Lavender Beach (21 page)

Thirteen

O
nce the county forensic team finished digging in the dirt, it was Eastlyn’s turn to get back to the plowing. It took two more days before she deemed the ground ready for planting. When that happened, she helped Isabella and Thane make at least four dozen calls to spread the word.

The next morning people began showing up at six a.m., so many volunteers that the mass arrival created a parking problem.

After Brent and Ethan solved that issue they realized two shifts were needed to accommodate all the troops willing to help. No one was turned away. Children of various ages were assigned to a grownup to act as helper. The kids, depending on their ages, either toted the seed bags or handled the scattering of seeds.

Sure the process could’ve been done a lot faster and far less labor intensive. But that had never been Isabella’s intent. The Lighthouse Project as folks around town now called it, was supposed to show kids and adults there was joy and personal satisfaction in the art of gardening.

“Your hard work’s finally paid off,” Thane noted as he came up to stand next to Eastlyn. “A job well done all around.”

Eastlyn surveyed all the workers in the field. “There was a time I thought your wife might be delusional. Whenever she went on about how many people she expected to show up, I had my doubts. Now, I see she that was the heart and soul of this project.”

“She believed in the townspeople every step of the way,” Thane said with pride. “I admit there were times I thought she might be exaggerating the extent of everyone’s participation.”

“I hear congrats are in order. Jonah’s been telling anyone who’s willing to listen that he’s getting a baby brother for Christmas.”

Thane took off his ball cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Oh geez, that boy is likely setting himself up for a big disappointment.”

From a few feet away Coop overheard the exchange. Standing at the back of a Plant Habitat delivery van, he added, “Think of it this way, Jonah’s simply playing the percentages.”

Coop slid a crate of tomato plants off the back, handed them off to Thane in assembly-line fashion. “There’s a fifty-fifty shot the boy’s right and he’ll be able to strut around telling everyone he’s the one who knew it from the start.”

Thane hefted the carton from Coop, handed it off to one of the volunteers waiting in line for another pallet of seedlings. “We’ll know for sure in a couple weeks, around the middle of June. That’s when Isabella goes in for the first sonogram.”

Dressed in a pair of overalls, hair pulled back in a ponytail, Shelby Jennings came up to them looking far younger than her fifty years. “When we finish the planting, all the volunteers have already decided we should stay put and have ourselves a cookout on the grounds to celebrate. Murphy and Nick went to round up as many barbeque grills as they could find.”

It warmed Eastlyn to be part of such camaraderie again. Since leaving the army, she’d missed that feeling of teamwork, that pulling together toward a single, common objective.

Right now, Isabella’s vision for the co-op was coming together nicely.

“So you’re saying the first shift will hang around till the second one gets done?” Coop asked, amazed at that kind of enthusiasm.

Shelby’s voice cracked with emotion. “Coop, you were away a long time. But the truth is, this place has a lot of good people in it who come together like nothing I’ve ever seen. Murph and Nick and Jordan turned this town around. So to answer your question, they’re all planning to chip in for the food and stay to make it a party.”

Landon came up, tossed in his two cents. “Plus, they don’t want this beautiful place overshadowed by death. The negative stamp Carl Knudsen tried to leave, they want it erased for good, replaced by a positive.”

That sounded like a plan to Eastlyn. “We could make a bonfire over near the edge of the cliff.”

Thane nodded. “Good idea. I’ll round up some of the kids and get them busy gathering firewood.”

For the next hour or so the first wave set up folding tables in a common area to use for the food. They unloaded lawn chairs and coolers packed with soft drinks and beer.

As soon as Nick and Murphy returned, the men fired up the grills. Because everyone had worked up an appetite and wanted their food fast, they kept the menu to meat that would cook quickly. They broke open packages of hot dogs for the kids, bratwurst and links for the grownups.

Margie and Max dished out buckets of old-fashioned potato salad while Fischer Robbins served up helpings of his pre-prepared macaroni and cheese.

When the work in the field began to wind down, Eastlyn stood back and watched the contented faces on the volunteers as they lined up to get their food. So much community spirit made her wonder how long it had been since she’d felt such satisfaction in a job well done.

The Lighthouse Project had come to an end—at least a good portion of it. Sure, Isabella planned to keep her on as an overseer, but how much time would the job really take to line up the volunteers needed to water and tend the place? No, she’d need to start looking for something else. She’d need to stretch every dollar from the garden center if she intended to buy that old chopper.

She was staring off into the horizon when Cooper walked up with his camera in hand. “What are you fretting about? Where were you just now? You didn’t even see me come up.”

Without answering him, her eyes immediately went to the camera. “I hope you don’t aim that thing at me.”

He took her chin in his hand, moved her head from side to side. “Why are you so camera shy? You of all people.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, why would such a beautiful woman object to having her picture taken?”

“You need glasses,” she grumbled as she moved away. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” She led him over to an area away from the others where she’d already decided this was her favorite spot.

She plopped down on the bench among the newly planted lavender seedlings, some already laden with fragrant buds.  “By July this spot will be blooming with fragrant buds.”

Instinctively, Cooper raised his lens and zoomed in on her. He started clicking off shots one after the other.

For those brief few minutes, he made her feel like a runway model. If only she’d been better dressed and wasn’t wearing tattered jeans and a top leftover from the nineties.

Cooper looked around and adjusted the lens again taking snapshots of the cliff and the surrounding landscape.

She watched him zero in on his target like a trained sniper. But instead of a weapon, he used the camera as a natural extension, capturing this one special moment in time, documenting the project like no one else had thought to do.

Eastlyn spread her arms out wide. “The train store owner slash photographer in his element.”

That brought him back to where he’d started. One more time, he aimed the lens at her sitting on the bench among the plentiful lavender. “What to know what I think? This is your element right here. That smile on your face says Pelican Pointe agrees with you.”

He sat down next to her, stretched out his long legs. “Drea tells me she plans a big kick off-to-summer bash at her place this Friday night. She’d hoped it would be her engagement party to Zach. My guess is she’s trying to put on a brave face after the split.”

“Really? Those two broke up? How long had they been dating?”

“About a year. I want you to go with me.”

How could she possibly get out of going to his sister’s first party after a bad breakup with her boyfriend? “Of course,” she heard herself say.

“Do me a favor.”

“Okay.”

“Do you own a dress?”

She tilted her head, considered his motives. “Is that a snotty way of saying you don’t like what I wear?”

“I’m saying I’d like to see you in a dress. There’s no need to be self-conscious about your prosthesis, none at all. You’re beautiful exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Except what I wear,” she pointed out in a huff.

“My motives are entirely selfish. I’d like to get you out of your clothes. There, I admitted it, honestly and without malice.”

She chewed her lip. “What you’re really saying is you want to see my leg.”

“Okay, that, too.”

She turned in his arms. “You think you’re ready but I guarantee you won’t be. No one is.”

“I’m fairly certain I’m ready to see all of you. It’s you who I haven’t convinced. You’re still not quite ready to trust me yet. I’ve made it clear I want to take you to bed, Eastlyn, and that’s a little hard to do if you’re constantly afraid I’ll somehow act differently the minute I see your prosthetic. And since I don’t intend to make love to you in the dark…”

“Ever? What do you have against the dark?”

“Not a thing. But when we make love for the first time I’ll want to explore every inch of you.”

“Cooper…”

When she tried to protest, he simply cut her off with a soft press of his lips to hers. It was as if they were the only two people who existed, right then and there, looking out to sea. At that moment, they shut out the hum of conversation behind them. All the people gathering to eat nearby didn’t exist. That left them alone to drop into the kiss. In their own world, nothing else mattered but the two of them.

A flock of squawky seagulls broke the moment. 

His eyes danced as he stood up and held out a hand to help her up. “Let’s go get something to eat before I strip your clothes off right here.”

“That would definitely headline Myrtle’s newsletter,” Eastlyn quipped.

“The woman’s smarter than that. Myrtle’s learned to utilize email. It’s faster than waiting for a newsletter to print.” He glanced up to where the grills were going. “The line’s thinned out quite a bit. You must be starving.”

Eastlyn got to her feet, ran a seductive finger down his throat. The gesture had nothing to do with food. “You know what? I just realized I’m a lot hungrier than I thought I was. You make me hungry, Cooper.”

His smile curved wide, showing a pair of dimples in his cheeks. “I knew I’d eventually beat down your resistance.”

Before they could make it over to the buffet of food, Cooper’s cell phone suddenly came to life on vibrate. Out of habit, he glanced down at the digital readout and set his jaw. His face became a mask of disappointment mired in anger.

Sliding the arrow to the right to take the call, he listened to what turned out to be a recording. But he put an end to the spiel before it had time to finish and crammed the device back into his jeans pocket. To reassure himself, he reached out to touch Eastlyn’s hand.

“Who was that?” she wanted to know.

“No one important.”

But Eastlyn wasn’t buying it. “Don’t give me that. You look like you could break someone in half without even trying. I know what frustration looks like.”

He shook his head, lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Some telemarketer who won’t take no for an answer.”

And with each step he did his best to push the rage he felt back where it belonged—deep into his past.

Fourteen

F
or Eastlyn, the luncheon at Promise Cove proved a true eye opener, a window into the female mindset that made up the town.

She’d been there only a few minutes when she scanned the dining room where most of the women in town gathered around Jordan’s long dining table. Young and old, women of all ages snatched up delicate little finger sandwiches from fancy trays lined with lacy paper doilies and drank tea poured from sterling silver pots.

Eastlyn had heard of such things but never once had she ever gone to an afternoon tea. She stood in the entryway in her bland gray pantsuit feeling about as frumpy as a Muppet while everyone else around her wore spring dresses in bright colors or stylish skirts and tops. Her drab wardrobe made her feel out of place and awkward.

“There’s plenty to eat and drink,” Jordan sang out in cheerful greeting, giving her reticent guest a little nudge toward the action.