Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel (26 page)

BOOK: Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel
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“Is the engine here? Did you double-check all the measurements before you ordered it?”

“Should have it by lunchtime, and, yes, I did.”

“Wonderful.” Ash smiled at Sully but got no response. “And the chain plate?”

“Coming in today, too.”

“Fabulous.” Ash looked around the dock, acutely aware of how uncomfortable Sully was with conversation. “Do you feel good about dropping the engine into place and mounting it? Would you like me to come by to help?”

“Nope. I’ve done a hundred of these.” Sully looked down at his feet. “So, are you planning on leaving tonight?”

“Uh, no, actually. There’s been a change of plans.”

He looked up. “Tomorrow, then?”

“No. I’ve decided to stay awhile.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure yet, but do you think she’s going to be ready to take out for a sea trial by late Thursday morning, weather permitting?”

Sully frowned. He scrunched his lips together in thought. “You can’t keep her in this slip for the long term, you know.”

“I understand, and I’ll be happy to compensate you for your inconvenience, but would you mind if we discussed all this in a few days?” Ash stepped onto the dock, shaking Sully’s oil-stained hand. “Thanks again for your excellent work.”

As he walked away from the marine yard, Ash felt Sully’s curious gaze on his back. He couldn’t blame the guy for staring. When he’d arrived on the island five days before, Ash had been an incompetent boat owner with deep pockets. Three days later he’d morphed into a nervous sailor who couldn’t leave fast enough. And today he was talking engine specs and his plans to stay indefinitely.

Though he had no personal experience with this sort of thing, he figured his behavior might be typical for a man who was falling in love.

Ash smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and headed into town. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a large crowd forming at the public dock, where it looked like yet another mermaid legend production was in progress. How many variations on the theme could there possibly be?

He slowed his pace enough to see that it was only a promotion for the adult theater troupe’s reenactment, starting soon in the museum. A real-life historic fishing boat served as the stage for the promo, but he noticed the costumes were from the parade, the props were from the children’s play, and some lines of dialogue were straight out of one of the brochures. The Bayberrian recycling ethic was exemplary.

He continued walking at a decent clip, aware that there was a lot on his agenda that day. He wanted to pay Hubie Krank a visit, but before that, he needed to pick up a couple bottles of wine from the liquor store—one for tomorrow night’s cookout with Rowan’s family and the other to share with Rowan during Thursday’s sail.

Ash felt a grin spreading across his face. He’d never taken a woman aboard the
Provenance.
It had never occurred to him that he might want to reveal that side of himself to a woman.

Rowan was different. He wanted her to love his classic sloop. He wanted Rowan to experience her comfortable, sweet ride, feel how firm she was at the heel, and sense what a delightful companion she could be out in the open sea.

After all, Rowan had shared her home and family with him, so it was only fair to reciprocate. Ash was immensely proud of the
Provenance.
She was the only family he had left.

It occurred to Ash that he needed her support. Maybe if he told Rowan the truth while they were out at sea, on the deck of the
Provenance
, Rowan would be more open to what he had to say. At least she couldn’t run away.

*   *   *

 

“I think he’s really great. Nat feels the same.”

Rowan sighed with relief into the cell phone, resuming her job buffing and sorting flatware in the dining room. “Thank you, Annie. I’m thrilled to hear you say that.” It was important that they both liked Ash, since Rowan couldn’t even imagine how awkward it would be if they didn’t. Annie and Nat were getting married soon, and though Rowan tried not to worry too much about the future, she desperately hoped that Ash would remain in her life.

“But you’re cool now with him being the Man Grab? I know it was shitty to find out the way you did. I felt bad that I didn’t give you a heads-up.”

Rowan opened the drawers to the old sideboard and put the flatware away. “I’ve gotten over my shock. I know I shouldn’t have flipped out the way I did, but honestly, I just couldn’t face the idea that Mona would come at me again the way she did with Frederick.”

“I understand.”

“Anyway, there’s nothing for you to feel bad about, Annie. You had no way of knowing Ash was the stupid Man Grab, but my
mother
sure as hell did.”

“I know you’re pissed at her.”

“Ugh.” Rowan slammed the drawer shut. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being suffocated by Mona—by this whole place.”

“I know, sweetie. But having Poseidon around has got to put a spring in your step on this fine summer morning. Am I right?”

Rowan laughed. “You’re right—it’s a lovely morning, but I’m not doing much springing, let me tell you. I’m so tired I can barely keep from falling over. Not that I’m complaining.
At all
.”

Annie giggled, then sighed. “Well, I have to say, you sound incredibly happy. I’m . . .” Annie paused. Rowan heard her sniff.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” Annie snapped. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m just so happy to see
you
happy! It’s been a really long time, and . . . Oh, Rowan! Nat has been such a blessing in my life, but all I’ve been able to think about the last eight months was that
you
should have the same sort of blessing. I’ve been praying for you to find happiness.”

It was Rowan’s turn to cry. She wiped her cheek with the back of her wrist. “I don’t know what I would have done without you these last couple years, Annie. Well, the last thirty years, really.”

“I feel the same.”

“I think maybe Ash is the one.” Rowan began to walk toward the kitchen, but lowered her voice so that Mellie and the maids wouldn’t hear her. Her interest in Ash might be public knowledge at this point, but she could at least try to keep her most private thoughts between her and Annie. “The more time I spend with him, the more I let my guard down and just let it happen; you know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“He’s so attentive and loving. He makes me laugh. I miss him when we’re not together. Oh—he wants to take me sailing Thursday if his boat is fixed.”

“That sounds fun. Nat and I are going to the Mermaid Ball Thursday night. Would you two be back in time to join us?”

Rowan laughed. “Dear God, Annie. I haven’t been to the ball in years!”

“But wouldn’t it be fun? The four of us?”

Rowan wasn’t sure how to answer Annie, since she suspected the ball wouldn’t be Ash’s idea of a good time. Costumes were required, and Ash had made it clear that he didn’t do costumes. So she’d have to give the situation some thought. “Maybe we’ll go. I have to talk to Ash first and see.”

She headed through the swinging door to the kitchen, where she knew Imelda was busy doing prep work for tomorrow’s breakfast. She looked up from the chopping block and smiled at Rowan.

“Tell Annie I miss her.”

“Mellie says she misses you.”

“I miss her, too! Find out if she’s coming to the cookout tomorrow night.”

Rowan relayed the inquiry, though she knew what the response would be—the same as it always was.

Mellie waved the knife around, shaking her head. “She knows I don’t do those sorts of things. I have to get up early.”

Rowan opened her mouth to answer.

“I heard her,” Annie said. “She’s so grumpy sometimes.”

Rowan chuckled.

Mellie resumed her chopping. “Remind Annie that we need to have her final fitting next week.”

Rowan spoke into the phone. “Did you hear that?”

“I know. I know. Mellie has saved my ass by making my dress. It’s going to be gorgeous. But—” She sucked air through her teeth. “Why did Nat and I pick September to get married? I can’t believe I suggested a date so soon after festival week! What was I thinking?”

Rowan smiled. “You were thinking it’s the perfect time, and you were right. The weather is cooler, but still nice. The ferry is still running the summer schedule. And tourist season is officially over, so we’ll have the Safe Haven and the beach completely to ourselves.”

“Oh. Right. It’s all coming back to me. I’m just dangerously close to freaking out over everything we’ve still got to do.”

“Tell her not to worry. Everything will get done.”

“Did you hear that?”

Annie laughed. “I did.”

“We’re here to help,” Rowan said, trying to reassure her friend. “It’ll all get done, and it will be beautiful. The reception food and the flowers will be finalized after festival week. The music is covered. Mellie’s got the dress. It will all pull together. And you, my dear, are going to be the most smokin’-hot bride this island has ever seen.”

“Yeah, okay.” Annie didn’t sound convinced. “I’d settle for looking calm and well rested.”

*   *   *

 

Ash knocked on the weathered door of Hubie Krank’s small cedar-shingled house. Then he knocked again, louder. After a few minutes, he realized the old man probably couldn’t hear the beating on his door, so he slipped around the side of the house to the backyard.

“Mr. Krank?”

Nothing. A bolt of alarm went through him—he hoped nothing had happened to the old fellow. Ash stepped over the weeds and clutter until he reached what was probably the kitchen door. He pounded as hard as he could. “Mr. Krank!”

“What’s all the fuss? Stop yelling! Stop banging!” The warped wooden door opened and Hubie’s shriveled little face appeared. He frowned, scanning Ash up and down. Eventually, there was a spark of recognition in his watery eyes. “Oh. It’s you. Has the Flynn girl got her claws in you yet?”

Ash had to smile. “As a matter of fact, she has.”


What
?”

“Yes!”

“Well, what do you want? Hurry up!”

He yelled, “Could we talk for a moment, Mr. Krank?” Ash realized he would need a lot of lung power if he were to make any headway in this interview.

Hubie looked doubtful. “Talk about what?”

“Your land.”

His eyes went wide and his crooked spine miraculously straightened. “Those damn Flynns! They sent you here to kill me off, didn’t they?”

Ash let out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I just came to talk about how much you want for your property.”

Hubie wrapped his knotted fingers around the edge of the door and eased it open a bit more. “You say you want to buy my land?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you rich?”

“Rich enough.”

“Come on in. Watch your step.”

Ash entered the old man’s house and was immediately startled by the disorder and decay. Of course he’d assumed the house was as ancient as its owner, but he hadn’t thought the appliances, electrical wiring, and furnishings would be of the Prohibition era as well. A quick sweep of the surroundings had Ash convinced that if he dug into the stacks of newspapers and magazines propped against the walls, he’d surely find headlines proclaiming the Apollo 11 moon landing, the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and the stock market crash of twenty-nine.

“Have a seat, young man.”

It took Ash a moment to figure out how he’d be able to comply with that request. He opted to remove a stack of pots and pans from a kitchen chair and set them on the floor nearby.

“Tea?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Krank.” He took his seat, not even wanting to imagine the state of perishable items in this house.

“Well, then? You want to buy my land? How much money do you have?”

Ash had reviewed his Jessop-Riley documents and found that Hubie owned about four and a half acres on the bluff. Initial contact was made with him thirteen months prior, and he’d accepted an offer of just over a half million, pending a zoning change. But that agreement, like all the others made with landowners along Haven Cove, had remained in limbo because the Flynns refused to sell. Ash’s new challenge would be to get landowners to accept slightly less money from Oceanaire, whose pockets weren’t as deep.

He smiled at the old guy. Ash had been in this position many times before, meeting face-to-face with property owners on many projects, but this was the first time he could say he had honorable intentions. Before, it was all just about profit. This time, he wanted to do what was right.

“How much do you think your land is worth, Mr. Krank?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Well, those Boston bloodsuckers offered me half what I want. So I’d say I need a cool mil or it’s not even worth my time discussing it.”

Ash nodded. “Hmm.” He pulled out his smartphone and made a note to himself. “And what about the other landowners on the cove? Do you have any idea how much everyone else wants for their piece?”

Hubie frowned at him. “Well, of course I do. We have these landowner meetings, you know, and that’s all we do is sit around and talk about how much money we want.”

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