Lavender Beach (18 page)

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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

BOOK: Lavender Beach
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“I’m guessing I haven’t experienced any of Scott’s merriment and joy yet,” Eastlyn quipped. “Considering his irritating habit of springing up during inappropriate times.”

“Or in the middle of the night. Those will cause a few gray hairs to pop up. I believe he’s in that category of spirits who’ve crossed over, yet choose to come back. No one knows why.”

“That’s fairly easy. He’s under the mistaken impression he’s helping people.

She leaned back in her chair, picked up her wine and studied Cooper’s face. “Has anyone ever told you that with all your theories you’d make a good teacher?”

He cracked a grin. “When I was younger Landon and Shelby encouraged me to pursue that as a career. But it meant being cooped up in a classroom all day. That’s not me.”

“No, it isn’t you. You’re at home in your store because it makes you happy being there. It’s a solitary environment.” When he sent her a curious look, she added, “There’s not a thing wrong with a solo workplace.”

“And you’re at home in the air,” Coop said matter-of-factly. “That could be construed as a solo endeavor.

“It could. It certainly applied to my dad.”

“Tell me about him.”

Cooper noticed the soft look that came into her eyes at the mention of her father.

“Dad didn’t settle down and get married until late in life. He was thirty-eight when he met my mom. Had my brother at forty, and me two years later at forty-two. There were times he wasn’t sure what to do with us. But after my mom got sick, it was up to him to see we got fed, had clean clothes, and went to bed at a decent hour. It was a difficult time for him. I’ve never seen a man more devastated at losing a mate. Even then, I knew how much he must’ve loved her.”

“Love like that doesn’t come along very often.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

To lighten the mood, he recited the latest gossip. “Drea tells me she’s getting serious about Zach Dennison, but she doesn’t think he feels the same way.”

“See, love is a tricky slope that causes heartache more often than not.”

When Cooper pushed back from the table indicating he was done with his meal, she couldn’t resist showing him that the newcomer had her own direct line to a measure of gossip. She told him about her conversation with Brent.

“What? I told you that stuff about the Edgecombes and their compound so you’d know more about the area and know which part of the county to stay out of, not so you’d go after the lowlifes still living there.”

She took a calming breath, prepared to butt heads with him.

“You need to realize that area for what it is—a dangerous place. Those people are merciless. They’ll do anything to keep their activities from becoming common knowledge. Anyone who cooks up crystal meth lives a ruthless life. Besides…”

She pushed her once-tasty barbeque around her plate, her appetite gone. “You’re overreacting. Offering to help doesn’t mean I’d go looking for trouble inside someone’s meth compound willy-nilly. I’m not stupid. There are other ways to do that effectively.”

He cut her a disbelieving glower. “Do you know what that bunch would do to you if they found you spying on them, on their own property? You just said you and Brent cooked up this scheme to go snooping around.”

“It wasn’t Brent’s idea. I’m the one who approached him about it.”

“I know you mean well, but not everyone who lives in that area has put out the welcome mat. They don’t appreciate unwanted visitors. You need to be aware that the Edgecombes’ place is less than two miles from that barn. You start working on that chopper and you might cross paths with them. That’s the reason I brought it up. If you’re planning to buy that thing, you’d obviously be hanging around the farm a lot.” Cooper ran a hand through his long hair. “I was trying to…”

“Protect me?” She laid a hand on his arm. “That’s sweet. I didn’t mean to snap at you. There’s no point in arguing about this or getting upset because Brent thought it was a stupid idea. He told me to drop it.”

Cooper’s eyebrows knitted together in a frown. He linked his fingers with hers squeezing her hand. He tugged her closer. His voice grew quiet. “It might’ve been a good idea if you’d thought to lead with that little nugget first. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”

On impulse, Cooper nipped her up out of her chair, moved in to close his mouth over hers. He teased and coaxed a smile out of her lips. With a playful tongue he worked on getting more, until finally she began to loosen her hold on the string of knots around her set jaw.

Her pulse quickened. Her belly quivered. Desire poked its way through the tangle of tension over the argument.

They slid into the kiss, as soft as velvet and satin, a slow meeting of lips laced with lust. When they finally broke apart, he took a measured breath. “Who knew this meal would be so special? It marks our first major disagreement.”

“Our first? Who knew a nerdy train store owner packed such a punch.”

“I’m just warming up. Besides, a geek has to start somewhere.”

 

 

After Cooper left
for home she cleaned up the dishes and got ready for bed. While brushing her teeth, Eastlyn began to wonder what was truly bothering her about the discussion at supper. She’d felt edgy all evening. It was more than sexual tension. Now as bedtime approached, she faced another night of going to sleep without having her crutch to help her nod off. Vicodin had been her prop for two years.

Indecision warred with her insides. Did she really want to go on the hook for an old helicopter?

Why did Cooper feel she needed a protector? She could take care of herself. But she’d kept quiet on that score. Had she simply talked him down to keep the argument from escalating?

Edgy, she felt it building up, the jitters coming. Nights like these were tougher than others.

“You’re scared and doubting yourself, afraid of trying new things.”

Eastlyn recognized the voice and turned to see Scott sitting on the windowsill.

“You’re either in or out,” Eastlyn snarled. “Which is it?”

The ghost didn’t hang around.

“Damn. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?”

She tried to get off to sleep but each time she tried to close her eyes Scott’s words kept coming back to her.

Was she scared of trying new things? Was she in the habit of doubting herself? She’d had plenty of self-confidence in the army. You couldn’t become a pilot without a heavy chunk of swagger.

But having to leave her dream behind along with the military life she’d planned in exchange for civilian life hadn’t been easy. With a life-altering disability there had been adjustments to make. She and her father had butted heads about it.

It was tough living with the fact that their last words had been so ugly.

 

 

 

Eleven

 

E
astlyn started her day on the road. She heading south out of town to Cleef’s farm as the sunrise tried to push its way through a May gray haze.

Making her way past rolling terrain that dropped its curves into fertile emerald hills, she wanted to get a second look at the Bell chopper. Alone. The plan was to watch the sun finish its climb in the morning sky, drink the coffee from the Thermos she’d brought along, and maybe, just maybe, see if she could dig that old bird out of the muck it had sat in for decades. In the process, maybe she’d rub off a few layers of rust.

As she drove, she realized now she should have kept the confab with Brent to herself. That was the tricky part about getting close to someone. At some point they always felt the need to tell you what you should do and how you should do it.

When would she learn that she was just too independent for a relationship to work the way it did with normal people?

Since her disability, a part of her understood how people might believe she was incapable of doing the same things others took for granted. But she had never considered that Cooper might be one of them.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t seen him in two days. Correction, she’d avoided him for two days.

“After all his talk about my military service, about how proud he was, it turns out Cooper’s just like all the rest,” she mumbled to herself as she made the turn toward San Sebastian.

“You know that isn’t true,” Scott pointed out from the passenger seat of the Bronco.

Eastlyn stomped on the brake. The Ford skidded onto the shoulder to an abrupt stop sending gravel pinging into the underbelly.

She turned in her seat and shot a deadly look at Scott. “What the hell? Why do you do that to people? Can’t a body have a conversation by themselves without you horning in? I could’ve wrecked the car. I could’ve rolled into the ditch. What’s the matter with you?”

Scott sent her a sideways glance. “Did you ever consider that maybe life as a civilian is what you were meant to do? Making plans is great and all. Everybody gets that you wanted a life in the army. It’s time to face facts. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you plan.”

“You know what? Cord and Cooper and Nick are right about you. You’re a know-it-all, an annoying worm that gets inside a person’s skin and won’t go away. Don’t you get it? Why are men so stubborn anyway? I wanted to make a life flying choppers. Now I can’t.” Eastlyn’s frustration bubbled to the surface and she hit the steering wheel with both fists. “I didn’t want to sit behind a desk! What about that is so difficult to understand? I want to fly again!”

“Who’s stopping you?” Scott shouted right back. “You have a chance to fly here. Try not to fuck it up this time.”

“Get out. Get out of my car! Now! You don’t know shit about me.”

“Oh, poor Captain Parker,” Scott drawled. “She got her leg blown off. In case you haven’t noticed, Eastlyn, I’m dead, as in not able to go on with the life
I’d
planned
with
the wife I loved and the daughter I never got to hold. I didn’t make it back. You did. Try doing something with your life instead of crawling into a bottle of pills or boo-hooing about what you don’t get to do. Try standing on your own two feet again. Yes, I said your
feet
. Be grateful you can walk. You’re able to live. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Where’s that pride you used to have?” With that final parting shot, Scott disappeared into thin air.

Once he was gone, a void hung in the air. The confined space started closing in on her. It took her several minutes to calm down enough so she could drive.

When she did manage to get back on the road, her hands started to shake. She rolled down the window to breathe in fresh air.

After another two miles of slow, careful driving, she recognized the rutted lane that led to the farmhouse. Pulling to a stop in front of the barn, she cut the engine, reached for the Thermos. With her hands still trembling, she pulled out the stopper, slopped coffee into the plastic cup.

She hated to admit it but Scott was right.

The day that had cost her a leg, her crew had come under attack. Despite her injury, she’d flown her team out of harm’s way. After getting hit, she’d had to listen to Moe Turner demand that she let him take over the stick. But she’d stuck it out. She’d stayed conscious long enough to orchestrate touch down at the hospital before passing out. It’s the last thing she remembered until waking up in post-op after surgery.

She’d survived.

Dazed at the memory, she leaned back in the seat sipping her coffee. She decided then and there she needed to stop letting the past rule the present. As Scott had pointed out, there were worse things than wearing a prosthetic.

If only she’d been able to square things with her dad before he’d died.

“Let it go,” Eastlyn muttered to herself as she ran a hand through her hair.

“What good does it do to keep blaming yourself for your father’s death? It was a car accident.” Scott’s voice echoed through the Bronco’s interior.

But when she looked over at the passenger seat it was empty.

Tears wanted to come but she fought them back. “Dad left the house that day angry with me. You were right before. We’d had an argument, an ugly one, two stubborn heads butting up against each other. He insisted I should let the army stick me behind a desk. ‘Think of the retirement you’re giving up, the pension. You’re crazy if you give up the military.’ That’s what he said to put a wedge between us,” Eastlyn said, remembering her dad’s stinging words. “It seems ridiculously insignificant now. I couldn’t see his point of view and he couldn’t see mine.”

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