Authors: Mariah Stewart
The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge (200 page)
“Of course it is. All of Steffie’s ice creams are amazing. But sure,” the dark-haired woman said. “I’m always up for a new flavor. What’s this one called?”
“I don’t have a name for it yet.”
Before the shop owner could disappear into the back, Ellie said, “Excuse me, but I haven’t paid for my ice cream.”
“In one second.” She continued on her way into the back room, then a moment later returned with a small dish and spoon like the ones she’d given Ellie, and handed it to her friend. “I’m sorry,” she apologized
to Ellie. “I totally lose my head when Vanessa brings Poppy to see me.”
“Totally understandable,” Ellie assured her.
The bell rang again, and a stack of white boxes appeared a second before Brooke did.
“Let me help you with those.” Vanessa was out of her seat in a flash to grab the top box before it toppled off the pile.
“Thanks, Ness. I wanted to drop off what I have available now because for the rest of the week, I’ll be baking nonstop for Sunday, and I’m not sure if I’ll …” Brooke turned to close the door behind her and at the same time, saw Ellie. “Oh, Hey! Ellie! Good to see you again.”
The two other women turned to look questioningly at Ellie.
“Hi, Brooke. Nice to see you, too.”
Brooke turned to the other two women. “Have you met Ellie?”
“Not officially.” The shopkeeper stepped around from the back of the counter and extended a hand in Ellie’s direction, which necessitated Ellie’s putting down the spoon and meeting the tall blonde halfway. “I’m Steffie MacGregor. The pretty mama of the world’s most adorable girl is Vanessa Shields.”
“Ellie, nice to meet you.” Vanessa put down the boxes. “Any friend of Brooke’s, and all that.”
“Ellie just moved to St. Dennis,” Brooke went on to explain. “She bought Lilly Cavanaugh’s house and is fixing it up.”
“I didn’t know it was for sale. I love that house.” Steffie’s eyes lit up. “You’re so lucky!”
“It is a great house,” Ellie admitted.
“Which house is that?” Vanessa placed the white box on the counter.
“You know. The one I told you about. The one where the light keeper used to live out on Bay View Road.”
“The house the pirates tried to burn?” Vanessa asked.
Ellie laughed. “That’s the second time today someone mentioned pirates.”
“Pirates were a real problem on the Chesapeake in the 1700s, definitely not a laughing matter back then,” Brooke told her. “Even Blackbeard sailed the Bay.”
“Are you going to tell me that Blackbeard tried to burn my house down?”
“No, it wasn’t Blackbeard. It was that other one …” Steffie frowned. “Brooke, what was her name?”
“Her?” Ellie’s eyebrows rose.
Brooke nodded. “A woman who dressed like a man. Anne—no one really knows what her real last name was, but she called herself André Bonfille. She’d drop anchor out there in the harbor and she and some of her men would row to shore in small boats, terrorize the town until they were run out. They rarely actually hurt anyone, but they’d round up a bunch of the townspeople and then ransom them back to their families. Every few years they’d be back. No one knew this pirate was a woman until she was hanged down in North Carolina. But you’ll hear all about it on Sunday.” Brooke placed the rest of the boxes on the counter next to the cash register. “First Families Day.”
“Grace mentioned it,” Ellie told her.
“Oh, if you’re new in town, you have to come,” Vanessa said. “It’s so fun. The first year I was here, my brother made me go, even though I was thinking what a bore it would all be. But it was fun and I learned a lot. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Vanessa’s brother is Gabriel Beck, the chief of police here in town,” Steffie told Ellie.
“Oh, Chief Beck.” Ellie recalled the polite officer who knocked on her door the second night she was there. “We’ve met.”
“I’ve gone every year for as long as I can remember,” Steffie was saying, “and I wouldn’t miss it, either.”
“Me, too,” Brooke said. “Even after I moved away, I came back every year for First Families Day. It’s a little hokey small-townish, but we love it anyway.”
“I’ll try to make it.”
“You need a ticket for the dinner,” Steffie told her. “I have extras. You’re welcome to one. More, if you have someone you’d like to bring.”
“Thanks, Steffie, but Grace mentioned she was saving one for me.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see you on Sunday. Great. Look for us when you get to the square, okay? We all hang out together, so you should join us, unless you have other friends to go with.”
Ellie shook her head. “No other friends. And if I can make it, I’ll definitely look for you.”
“Great. We’ll probably be toward the right side of the square, toward the corner where Jesse’s law office is. You know where that is, right? Violet Finneran always has coffee on in the morning and sandwiches
later in the day. Brooke is bringing cupcakes, so we can sneak in and grab a snack.”
“Sounds like fun.” Ellie nodded noncommittally and ate the last bit of ice cream. She stood and pitched the cardboard bowl and plastic spoon into the trash receptacle near the door. She wanted out before the questions became more personal. “I’ll put it on the calendar.”
“Oh, do. I know there’s someone who’ll be happy if you show up,” Brooke teased.
Ellie tilted her head and asked, “What?”
“Jesse told me that Cam O’Connor thinks you’re hot.” Brooke grinned.
Ellie felt a flush creep up her neck to her hairline.
“Cam’s hot,” Steffie said. “Always has been.”
“Stop it. You’re married,” Vanessa admonished.
“He is what he is. Marriage has not made me blind, nor has it erased my memory,” Steffie replied.
Vanessa rolled her eyes and lifted her baby from the confines of the stroller. “Cam’s hotness aside, join us on Sunday. We’ll watch for you.”
“Thanks for the invitation.” Ellie turned to Brooke. “Great seeing you again.”
“See you.” Brooke went to the counter and Steffie met her there.
“Hey, Ellie, you should try one of Brooke’s cupcakes before you go,” Steffie called to her.
“I have a personal stash at home, thanks to Brooke. Best I ever tasted.” Ellie smiled and opened the door to leave, the bell tinkling overhead.
“I dropped off a few yesterday,” Ellie heard Brooke say as she closed the door behind her. “You know, a welcome to St. Dennis …”
Ellie walked to the edge of the wooden boardwalk that ran from Scoop to the marina. She mentally debated whether to take the time to walk its length or to go back to the house and polish silver. Because the sun was so warm and the afternoon so inviting, she continued past the boats, past the brown cedar-sided building that housed Captain Walt’s, home of the best seafood on the Eastern Shore, according to its sign, and all the way to the marina. Gulls circled overhead, scolding one another for who knew what infraction, and the air smelled faintly of salt and gasoline. She stood at the end of the dock, looking across the Bay, thinking she hadn’t realized how broad it was, how dark its waters. She watched the whitecaps, blown at a slight diagonal by the rising winds, and wondered what had brought those first settlers to this place, what they had found when they got here, and what hardships they’d faced in order to stay.
She thought of the pirates, and tried to imagine them coming up around the cove to drop anchor before they came ashore. How the people who lived in town must have shuddered when they saw the sails of those big ships billowing across the Bay.
For the first time that day, she began to consider the possibility of showing up on First Families Day after all, just for the hell of it.
Diary
Well, I was certainly right about something changing in our world but I couldn’t have guessed what was coming! After all these years, Lynley Sebastian’s little girl has come home
.
Of course, she’s not a little girl anymore, and she has no idea that I know who she is. Why she’s calling herself Ellie Ryder, I can only guess that she fears that the sins of her father—and there have been many—have followed her and would cause folks to judge her in his light. She forgets that it’s her mother whom St. Dennis remembers, not that scoundrel her mother married. I hope that in time she discovers that we all remember her dear mother with much affection
.
I recognized her the minute I laid eyes on her
.
She’s fixing up Lilly’s house—plans to sell it, she says. I don’t know how Lilly or Lynley would feel about that. I think Lynley had hoped that one day her girl would find the same peace here that she herself found, the peace that kept bringing her back year after year. I do hope the girl gives us a chance. She’s clearly a child who needs a place to belong
.
I remember how Lynley would come back to relax—never with the husband, though, and only rarely would she bring the girl. She was Ellis then, not Ellie, but what’s in a
name? Lynley stopped bringing her when she was maybe three or four
.
Back in those days, Lynley was still a celebrity. Sometimes she and Lilly would bring the girl to the inn for afternoon tea, and more often than not, Lucy and I would join them
.
There are photographs somewhere—I should look
.
Lynley Sebastian was a lovely woman—a very good woman who never forgot where she came from. From what I can see, in spite of all the terrible things her father has put her through, Ellis—Ellie—has rolled up her sleeves and set to work to do what needs to be done. I believe Lynley would be proud of the woman her daughter has become
.
Grace
E
llie turned on the faucet to fill the pot with water for her morning coffee when movement in the yard caught her eye. She leaned closer to the window and saw a man in a blue and brown flannel shirt ministering to one of the bird feeders. His shoulders were broad and the untucked shirttails hung over the back of his jeans in a nice curve. It was hard not to admire the view.
The thought occurred to her that she’d never seen her ex-fiancé, Henry, in a flannel shirt, doubted that he owned one. If he did, it surely wouldn’t be faded and worn like the one that fit Cameron’s frame so well. Henry’s flannel—should he ever have owned one—would have come from some high-end store and would have been pressed within an inch of its life so that not a wrinkle or fold showed. The colors would not have been faded because he’d wear it once—if he wore it at all—and it would have been tucked into neatly pressed khakis.
Of course, these days, Henry’s wardrobe consisted of orange jumpsuits, so the point of her mental meandering was pretty much moot.
Cameron turned to pick up the large bag of birdseed that he’d placed on the ground and hoisted it in one hand.
Real men, she decided then and there, wore well-worn flannel, and they never tucked it into their jeans.
Real men like Cameron, who, word had it, thought Ellie was pretty hot.
Likewise, my friend. Likewise …
Ellie hastily filled the coffeepot’s basket with fresh grounds and turned on the stove. Grabbing a sweater from a wall hook near the back door, she tossed it over her shoulders before stepping outside and leaning on the porch railing, which swayed in response.