Love, Unexpected
Love, Unexpected
Virginia McCullough
Moving to a new place isn’t easy…Until a neglected ship—and its owner—make her feel at homeAfter spying a boat in need of some TLC, single mom Andi Sterling strikes a deal with its owner, Zeke Donovan, who shares her passion for restoring old things. Uncovering the legendary ship’s secrets draws them closer. Is it too soon for Andi to open her heart to the chance to build new dreams?
Moving to a new place isn’t easy...
Until a neglected ship and its owner make her feel at home
After spying a boat in need of some TLC, single mom Andi Sterling strikes a deal with its owner, Zeke Donovan, who shares her passion for restoring old things. Uncovering the legendary ship’s secrets draws them closer. Is it too soon for Andi to open her heart to the chance to build new dreams?
After a childhood spent on Chicago’s sandy beaches, VIRGINIA McCULLOUGH moved to a rocky island in Maine, where she began writing magazine articles. She soon turned to coauthoring and ghostwriting nonfiction books, and eventually began listening to the fictional characters whispering in her ear. Today, when not writing stories, Virginia likes to wander the world.
To contact the author, please visit virginiamccullough.com (http://www.virginiamccullough.com), or find her on Twitter, @vemccullough (https://twitter.com/vemccullough), and Facebook, Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7 (http://www.Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7).
Also By Virginia McCullough (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
Girl in the Spotlight
Something to Treasure
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Love, Unexpected
Virginia McCullough
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08498-7
LOVE, UNEXPECTED
© 2018 Virginia McCullough
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Sitting across from him, Andi held her water bottle out to propose a toast.
“To Drifting Dreamer,” she said, tapping her bottle against Zeke’s. “I can’t stop thinking about what I may uncover about her next.”
Zeke threw his head back. “Oh, no. Now every day I’ll wonder if something new has turned up.”
“I’ll keep you guessing, section by section,” she said, cocking her head. “It’s tempting to start taking apart every inch of the boat. No telling what we’d find under the bunks.”
“But maybe it’s better to keep the suspense going,” he said, surprising himself.
Her expression changed. “Funny, isn’t it? A boat named Drifting Dreamer simply showed up here one day without fanfare or even much preparation.”
“So did you,” Zeke teased, his voice low and right on the edge of flirtatious.
Dear Reader (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67),
Welcome back to Two Moon Bay, a small town on Wisconsin’s Lake Michigan shore. In the third book in the series, several characters from Girl in the Spotlight and Something to Treasure are back and two have a story of their own. Love, Unexpected proves romance can tap us on the shoulder, even if we’ve closed our hearts to love.
Andi and Zeke find they share a passion for restoration and strike a deal to make the boat Drifting Dreamer beautiful again. Curious about the dreams behind the ship’s name, the two search for answers while they bring the vessel back to life. As they discover what can—and can’t—be restored, they confide their secrets and maybe even spin new dreams.
I hope you enjoy Andi and Zeke’s special summer in Love, Unexpected. You can visit me and add your name to my mailing list at virginiamccullough.com (http://www.virginiamccullough.com). Find me on Twitter, @vemccullough (https://twitter.com/vemccullough), and Facebook, Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7 (http://www.Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7).
To one more happy ending,
Virginia McCullough
For my two grown children, Laura & Adam—
to paraphrase Rat in The Wind in the Willows,
they’ve had some experience
“messing about in boats.”
Contents
Cover (#uc9e1d26b-3f0e-568f-9d16-0f368608462d)
Back Cover Text (#u321bc631-e2ac-5440-b397-9173bf563ee3)
About the Author (#u9226b344-39b1-5a8c-970b-f6b23c482c1d)
Booklist (#uf64127c5-6e8c-5220-ba70-e5a3ce78dc12)
Title Page (#u655e8a7a-3726-5223-b5c0-0420d9ffe01f)
Copyright (#u2b02df46-1fac-5180-85e9-9d3f96d6c807)
Introduction (#uc7929d9d-0667-55ee-ad28-8ce485bed158)
Dear Reader (#u4c66a2fd-4e7a-58ea-932d-6ef1d28069e0)
Dedication (#u32813236-f0a4-5773-9006-8b75fe59e057)
CHAPTER ONE (#u51eddc66-8772-5358-bc21-cd8b6ce89333)
CHAPTER TWO (#u63132ec5-9058-5587-bfc2-bb0b2391cae0)
CHAPTER THREE (#u2c6d711e-feef-55a9-a1ce-a948c6b84d33)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
ZEKE DONOVAN DIDN’T like his choices. He could simmer inside, or maybe stomp around the dock. Or he could let loose and holler at somebody. But as frustrated as he was, he knew perfectly well he wouldn’t do any of those things. He wasn’t the simmering, stomping, hollering type. Especially not when it came to his dad.
Planting a hand on his hip, Zeke filled his lungs and let the air out in a long sigh. On the few occasions in the last few years he’d been angry at his dad over mistakes or mix-ups, Zeke always ended up feeling guilty. Besides, anger didn’t solve anything. Today, like other days, he’d just have to figure out a way to clean up the mess Dad left behind.
Mess was a good word for the ancient motor yacht gently rocking at their Donovan Marine Supply dock in Two Moon Bay. By any standards, the boat was fifty feet of peeling varnish, not to mention the cracks in the wooden cabin house and rails. The sooner Zeke could find a way to get the eyesore off his hands—and off his dock—the better.
Early that morning, before they’d even flipped their sign from Closed to Open, Zeke learned Drifting Dreamer would be delivered to their dock in Two Moon Bay that day. Like a switch had flipped on inside his head, Dad suddenly remembered he’d inherited a yacht. The memory surfaced after a call from a lawyer’s office downstate in Kenosha confirmed the boat would arrive by noon. How this derelict motor yacht ended up settling a twenty-year-old debt was a question still waiting for an answer.
Zeke glanced at his dad and then studied the papers he held. “The original letter is dated in March, Dad.” He pointed to a date in the body of the letter. “There it is, right there at the end, the estimated delivery date in June. Today.”
Frowning, Art Donovan said, “I meant to tell you about that letter from the law firm. But I must have stuck it in the drawer in my nightstand.”
Out of sight, out of mind, Zeke thought. This shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. His dad often forgot day-to-day events, but typically remembered details of his dealings with a customer from years ago. Unfortunately, stashing the March letter in a drawer in his room was like him, too. Zeke worked with his dad every day, but at no time in these last few months had the letter from the law firm surfaced.
The letter was addressed to his dad, Arthur Donovan. The facts confirmed that a man named Terrance Smyth had died and bequeathed this very old, but classic yacht to his dad to settle that debt. Zeke slapped the sheaf of legal documents against his thigh. “Do you remember the guy who stiffed you, Dad?”
“You bet I remember him.” Art flapped his hand toward the boat. “I spent a couple of months trying to track him down to pay for the hardware I sold him to outfit his boat—about two grand worth of top-of-the-line stainless steel. I almost found him, but he disappeared again. I finally gave up. Wrote it off as a bad debt and moved on.”
Art shook his head and jabbed his finger in the air toward the run-down boat. “But it wasn’t this boat he was outfitting, not Drifting Dreamer. What I sold him was hardware for his fiberglass sailboat.”
None of that really mattered. “We might as well have a closer look.” Zeke stepped from the dock to the deck of Drifting Dreamer. He bounced a few times to test its strength before glancing over his shoulder and nodding to his dad. “Come on aboard. Seems sturdy enough to support us. At least it’s teak and probably cleans up pretty easily. The deck might be newer than everything else topside.”
From the aft deck, Zeke quickly scanned the boat from bow to stern. “Since you own this baby, such as she is, free and clear, we might as well see what we can salvage. Or...”
“Or what?” Art asked.
“Beats me.” Zeke grinned at his dad, his mood softening enough to bring back his sense of humor.
For the next few minutes, Zeke pushed away worrying thoughts of his dad’s odd memory lapses. Were they really happening more frequently, or did it only seem that way sometimes? Like now, when a fifty-foot boat showed up unannounced. The one bright spot was that unlike some of his dad’s other mistakes, this one wouldn’t hurt their marine supply business, except in lost time spent ridding themselves of the run-down yacht. But still, how could anyone, even a forgetful person like his dad, let an unexpected inheritance this substantial slip his mind?
Thinking back twenty years, Zeke had been away at college and had no memory of this bad debt. Dad obviously had handled it by himself, as he had everything connected with the family business.
“Hey, Zeke,” Art called from the wheelhouse, “Drifting Dreamer must have been a beauty in her day. Not everything’s old, either. She’s got electronics they didn’t make back in 1939.”
“I can see that,” Zeke said honestly, looking at the spec sheet. Even the diesel engine was only six years old and showed its good condition with a healthy hum when the two guys hired to deliver Drifting Dreamer had maneuvered between the pilings on the dock. Newer equipment aside, on closer inspection, the overall condition of the boat was every bit as sad as it appeared at first glance. The remaining traces of varnish on the mahogany trim and wheelhouse were only reminders of the yacht’s better days. Zeke grimaced at the sight of blackening wood and cracked joints and seams.
“All the hardware is bronze,” Zeke called, trying to insert a positive note. “That’s worth something.” If they scrapped the boat parts, they’d recoup the original two thousand dollars—with interest. Zeke gently kicked the toe of his shoe against the row of wooden bins under the rail of the aft deck. They rarely saw that high-quality mahogany anymore, except on the luxury custom boats very few people could afford.
When Zeke went into the main cabin, his dad was peering inside the oven of the newish stove, another item on the spec sheet that puzzled Zeke. Someone had a plan to bring back Drifting Dreamer. But who? Zeke shook off the question. It intrigued him, like a mystery, but it didn’t matter. He and his dad needed a new plan. Now.
To start, Zeke supposed they could ask Nelson White, their old friend who owned the marina and boatyard next door, to haul the boat out of the water, so they could begin salvaging whatever was valuable and get rid of the rest. But then he muttered, “A little sweat and sandpaper could help. To get her ready to sell, I mean. Maybe there’s life in the boat yet. We don’t need to junk her.”
His dad grinned and cupped his ear, acknowledging the groan of the pump that ran for a few seconds before coming to a halt with a clunk. “The bilge pump works.”
“See? Another selling point. Besides, we know for sure she’s seaworthy enough to make the trip from Kenosha.”
According to the paperwork, the nearly eighty-year-old yacht had been built in Duluth, Minnesota, and launched in 1939. It was a Bergstrom 50, a legendary design. That alone made her a classic, Zeke thought. From the attorney’s letter, Zeke learned Smyth bought the boat four years before he died. It had been sitting under a tarp in a boatyard, the victim of years of neglect.
He’d added a note in his will about it being better late than never to make restitution.
“Man, oh, man, you don’t have this much storage in your house,” Art called from the forward cabin.
“That big, huh?” Zeke was amused by his dad’s remark, even knowing it was his responsibility to resolve this result of a twenty-year-old problem. As a kid, he and his dad had been referred to as Art and his boy, Zeke. Even when he’d been almost thirty years old he was still Art’s boy. But over these last years, the situation reversed. Now people around town called them Zeke and his dad, Art. The shift was subtle at first, and really shouldn’t have mattered. But it did, mainly because Art had changed over the years, and Zeke had all but forced his dad to leave the apartment over their store and move into his house down the street.
“Must have cost a small fortune,” Art said as he came out of the cabin. “But there’s a lot of pride in this old yacht.”
Standing in the galley, Zeke agreed with his dad. It was built to be a showpiece and was made with the best materials available in the 1930s. In his mind’s eye, Zeke could take himself back to the day Drifting Dreamer was launched. The original owner, whoever it was, had chosen that name for a reason. Maybe a couple had her built, or it could have been a family. What kinds of dreams did they have mind?
“Kinda musty in here,” Art said, wrinkling his nose. “I can hardly smell anything anymore, but I got a whiff of old-boat odor. Maybe a little mildew mixed in. But it’s probably just the smell of a boat that’s been closed up too long.”
His train of thought interrupted, Zeke reached up and opened the porthole above the sink to let in a little fresh air on the sunny day.
“I suppose we better get back to the store,” Zeke said. “We won’t solve this problem today. But who knows? Someone might come along with money to burn and make you an offer, Dad.”
“Yep, and we left Teddy alone,” Art said, “not that the little mutt gets himself into too much trouble. I’ll take him for a walk.”
Zeke smiled at that characterization of the dog that had maneuvered his way through the back door of their store one day, plunked himself down and never left. In his pocket, Zeke’s phone signaled a text. As he read the screen, he got an immediate hit in his gut. He glanced at his dad, who was opening and closing storage lockers. But now they had another problem to solve. And right away.
“Uh, Dad, we really do need to get back.” He left out any mention of the customer’s problem. Well, a Donovan Marine Supply problem now. If he said anything about his dad mixing up an order for one of their best customers, he’d just upset him.
Zeke quickly scanned the shabby cabin one more time. Drifting Dreamer would have to wait.
* * *
WHENEVER ANDI STERLING’S mood needed a boost, a little aimless wandering usually did the trick. But that Friday night, even meandering along Two Moon Bay’s streets, Andi found her state of mind darkening as daylight faded into dusk.
She’d been in Two Moon Bay only a few days, but already she’d learned her way around the picture-book town. Ironically, despite not having a permanent place to live for herself and her daughter, Brooke, the town was beginning to feel like home. That evening, though, she deliberately avoided the shops and restaurants downtown and instead kept close to the waterfront parks and businesses.
Andi drew her hand across her brow, damp from the humid evening air. Since it was much too warm to let her long hair hang loose down her back, she tucked the stray wisps into the twist she’d fixed at the nape of her neck. “Stay put,” she murmured, mocking a tone of authority.
Since she knew almost no one in town, she could ramble around unnoticed, almost as if she was hiding. And in a way she was. For now, she craved privacy, even anonymity. She couldn’t say why that was true, but maybe it was because she had so many loose ends in her life and didn’t want to try to explain them.
Crossing the block-long park, the aroma of brats and burgers cooking on grills caught her attention. Couples and families were having old-fashioned cookouts around the clusters of wooden picnic tables and benches. The pleasant scents carried over to the party-like atmosphere of the Two Moon Bay Marina, a hot spot in late June. The breeze carried the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter, and a few boats were motoring out of the protected yacht basin and into the bay for a late-evening sail.
As Andi approached the well-lit docks, she spotted the tour boat with the almost whimsical name, Lucy Bee. Brooke had been on a trip on that boat with her stepmom, Lark, last summer. It amused Andi that Brooke was way more familiar with Two Moon Bay than she was thanks to her dad—Andi’s ex—living there.
A loud cheer drew Andi’s attention to a deck party on a large yacht, where a big-screen TV showed a baseball game. But then her eye was also drawn to a small runabout tied at the dock, where two teenage boys sat across from each other, phones in hand, so engrossed in video games or texting they were oblivious to what was going on around them.
Couples, parents, kids. Everywhere Andi looked she saw people busy having fun. But a few men and women weren’t too preoccupied to raise their hands in a sociable wave as she passed by. She was all smiles as she returned the greeting and kept walking as if she had somewhere to be.
Soon, Andi left the well-lit marina behind and reached an empty stretch of grass she knew led to a pair of docks belonging to the marine supply store. She and Brooke had ventured this way a couple times over the last few days, either on foot or on their bikes. They were usually taking the long route to the park or the Bean Grinder, where she and Brooke—and apparently all of Two Moon Bay—found their favorite coffee drinks and other treats.
A wave of nostalgia gently washed over her. Only recently had she fully accepted that the days when Brooke could be distracted with trips to the park or luscious cookies were fast disappearing. At ten years old, Brooke was growing up and asking hard questions. Like when was her mother going to get another job, and where were they going to live in their new town? At the moment, Andi didn’t have answers. No matter how hard she tried to keep up a cheerful and optimistic attitude about their move to Two Moon Bay, Andi still had regrets—and doubts—and they couldn’t help but spill over onto Brooke.
At least once a day, Brooke pointed out that she had no friends in Two Moon Bay. Andi gave her pat reassurances that she’d make new friends at riding camp and, later, in her new school. Brooke had already spent many weekends with her dad, who’d moved from Green Bay to Two Moon Bay late last summer. Miles and his new wife, Lark, had moved into a lakefront home. Her ex’s remarriage and move became the chief catalyst for Andi’s decision to relocate. For one thing, it would be so much easier to keep their shared custody agreement working smoothly—as it had for years. Those long drives involved in taking Brooke back and forth to each other’s houses in towns an hour away had grown old fast. Moving closer made a lot of sense, especially because Andi no longer had a job to anchor her in one place.
Andi pushed aside her job worries. Finding a place to live was a much bigger challenge. And she needed a house or an apartment right now. She and Brooke were staying in a cottage Lark owned and had lived in with her son, Evan. It was cozy and homey, but it was available for only another week, because Lark and Miles were expecting guests and were putting them up in the cottage.
Away from the lights and the party atmosphere of the marina now, Andi kept walking across the grass, alone with her bundles of mixed feelings. She ought to be grateful she could stay in Lark’s cottage. Well, she was grateful. But as much as she liked her ex’s new wife, Andi was embarrassed she needed to accept Lark’s offer.
At the moment, her daughter was spending an exciting weekend in Chicago with her dad and Lark, and Evan, Brooke’s stepbrother. For Brooke, the high point was the plan to ride the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. She’d been talking about it for weeks.
Suddenly, the humidity on the hot evening seemed to trap her, and she brushed her hand across the back of her neck. The ground was soft under her feet as she slipped deeper into the darkness and approached the quiet docks. An isolated spot, it was peaceful and set apart from the marina, where people were always coming and going.
The docks belonging to Donovan Marine Supply were usually empty. She’d seen only one boat tied up there and it was gone by the time she and Brooke had passed by again on the way back to the cottage.
Tonight was different, though. Something had changed. Even in the dim light, she saw what looked like a large boat tied up with a row of fenders hanging from the rail to protect the hull from bumping against the wooden dock. The boat was closed up, with no light coming from inside. But even in the yellowish glow coming from the low light mounted at the end of the dock, Andi saw that the boat was amazing.
An amazing wreck.
The boat in front of her was unlike any yacht or runabout she’d seen at the Two Moon Bay docks—or anywhere else. This boat was a pile of ruined varnish and cracked or missing wood. From what she could see the boat was dying from neglect. Andi almost laughed out loud. Those were the exact words she’d used when she’d first seen the house she and Miles bought right after they were married. That house was such a wreck the cracks in the plaster had looked like roads and highways on a map. Someone had painted over the original oak woodwork, and the kitchen would have made a great exhibit in a Depression-era museum. But the previous owner’s estate had installed a new roof and repaired the foundation. Andi had instinctively known the house had strong bones, but badly needed a face-lift to restore its glory.
Staring at the boat, Andi had a feeling the yacht was a lot like her old house. For sure, the fixer-upper boat’s to-do list would be as long as the dock itself. What a huge undertaking. Then why was her heart beating a little faster? She immediately dismissed her own surprising reaction. Did she really want to clutch a scraper in her hand and get to work? As a matter of fact, yes, it was an appealing idea. She didn’t know a lot about large motor yachts, but something in her longed to brighten up this floating mass of wood.
Andi started when her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she guessed it would be Brooke and hurried to answer.
“Hi, Mom.”
Better than cheery, Brooke sounded excited.
“Well, hello. Are you enjoying yourself in the big city?” Her mood lifted at the sound of her daughter’s voice.
“We’re at Navy Pier eating fudge ice cream,” Brooke said. “We rode the Ferris wheel, and it was great. And we went to the aquarium today. You should see the sharks—and the dolphins.”
“Sounds like fun.” She walked away from the dock, but before she got too far, she pivoted and took another look at the boat. Nothing in the marina was as isolated as that lone yacht.
“Wait, Mom. Dad wants to talk to you a minute.”
“Okay, put him on,” Andi said, taking a few more steps away from the boat.
“Hey, Andi,” Miles said, “any news?”
“About a roof over my head, you mean? And Brooke’s.” Andi winced at the sarcastic tone coming out of her mouth. Where had it come from? Frustration? Misplaced resentment? Miles didn’t mean anything negative by the question.
“Oops, sorry, Miles,” she said quickly. “Don’t mind me. I’m mad at myself. Somehow, this move didn’t go at all the way I planned it.”
“It will work out. And like I told you, you can stay in the cottage another week or so, and then move back in when our guests leave.”
Andi knew exactly what was coming next. If she still hadn’t found a place to live, she and Brooke were welcome to stay with Miles and Lark. They had plenty of space, and Brooke had her own room fixed up exactly as she wanted it. She spent almost half her time in Miles’s house, anyway. Andi would be welcome to the guest room. It was a generous offer. Andi knew that. Just like she knew she couldn’t bring herself to stay there.
“We talked about that, and you know how I feel, Miles. It would be too odd for Brooke. She’s used to going between my house and your house. It’s been her life since she was a toddler. She adjusted well to being with you and Lark and Evan. But stay in your house? I don’t think so.”
“You wouldn’t be here for long. Only until things settle in for you in Two Moon Bay, Andi. It would only be for a week or two.”
“Look, I’ll get vacation rentals a week or two at a time, or we’ll stay in one of the residential hotels,” she said, annoyed by the turn of the conversation. “It’s not the best solution, but it’s better than being with Brooke in the same house with you and Lark and her son.” Such a nightmarish solution. Andi would do almost anything to avoid it.
“You make it sound like a punishment for something,” Miles said, uncharacteristic resentment seeping into his voice. “You’re telling me you’d rather be alone with Brooke in a hotel than with her in my house.”
“Yes, Miles, that’s precisely what I’m saying.” She paused. “Give me a minute to spell this out for you.” It was hard to gather her thoughts with the background noise coming from Miles’s phone. Between a loud blues band, a mix of voices and the wind producing a static sound, it was nearly impossible to hear him. She kicked her voice up a notch. “I’m on my way back to the cottage now. Can we talk later? I’d like you to understand.”
“Okay, I’ll call you in an hour or so.”
With the call ended, Andi retraced her steps back across the grass and through the marina and down a few blocks of the waterfront street. She was soon unlocking the front door to Lark’s cottage on Night Beach Road. She fixed herself a plate of cheese and crackers and made short work of what she decided was dinner. Then she poured herself a glass of merlot and sat in the window seat to wait for Miles’s call.
Andi barely knew Lark, but it was easy to picture Brooke’s stepmom raising Evan in this cottage, working at her desk in front of this large picture window with its view of the lake. It was still Lark’s office, except when she and Miles had company staying here, like now. Then she worked in her office in their new house just down the street.
Andi thought about all the reasons she believed moving to Two Moon Bay was good for Brooke. But the logical, sound reasons for making such a major change only explained about 90 percent of her rationale. Andi hadn’t confided to anyone about the other reasons that pushed her toward her decision. It was hunger, she thought. She was hungry for something different in her life. After years of successfully managing a large medical practice, she’d been a casualty of a merger with a larger medical group. Luckily, she was a saver so she wasn’t living hand-to-mouth. She’d also accepted a few temp assignments over the last eighteen months and that helped cover her expenses. She had the luxury of holding out for a good professional opportunity.
When she’d first started her job search, a couple of medical practices had come looking for her, even coaxing her to agree to interviews, but they made such lowball offers she’d turned them down flat. She was determined to think bigger, not smaller. Or, what was stopping her from changing fields altogether, maybe taking off in a new direction?
Deciding to move to Two Moon Bay had been bound up in that exciting notion of a fresh start. All that work to renovate her house increased its value and the profit from its sale bought her more time to figure out what she wanted. The sale happened much faster than she or the Realtor had anticipated. The offer was well above the asking price, but in order to take advantage of it, she’d agreed to a closing date that allowed her almost no time to find a permanent rental.
Andi sipped her wine and stared at the narrow reflection of the new moon breaking through the haze over the lake. Where had her logical mind gone? None of these short-term problems would matter if she was judging her situation rationally. These were setbacks, minor at that, but they brought back long buried memories of other times she’d just as soon forget.
Like the air, the lake was still tonight. That sad old boat she’d seen was probably barely moving at the dock.
Odd that she would think of that boat. But there was something about it. But what?
Miles’s call broke into her thoughts.
“So?” he asked.
“So,” she said back, “here it is. You know I agreed to get out of the house in Green Bay without enough time to organize the move or find a rental, let alone buy a new place. I feel bad about that. Here I am, with my reputation as a hotshot manager, but I mismanaged this entire situation.”
“But I keep trying to tell you it’s okay,” he said with an impatient sigh. “We all know it’s temporary. We have room for you. This is about you, Andi, not me...or anyone else.”
Lark. He means it’s not about her. But Andi knew that. Using her thumb and index finger, she rubbed her forehead as if that action could produce the words that would help him understand. “I know this sounds overblown, but it feels chaotic, Miles,” she finally said. “On some level, not having a job or a house reminds me of the days after our divorce when I made so many mistakes.”
She was talking in code, as if not spelling it out would soften the blow. Who was she kidding? The blow was landing on her, not Miles. “I married Roger so fast, and it was such a disaster. The next year was a mess. You were the one who kept life stable for Brooke.”
“Oh, Andi, that was years ago,” Miles said softly. “I can’t believe you’re linking that old mistake with this situation. They’re entirely different. Anyone would have jumped at the offer you got for the house and figured out how to meet the terms later.”
Andi laughed. “You’re right, logically, that is. I guess this is stress talking. And Brooke was crabby about packing up so fast. That’s what brings up the same old feelings that I failed her—again. But I’d rather we move into a residential hotel until I find something. Better than having her mom staying with her dad and his new wife. A woman her dad knew long before he met her mom. It’s complicated, Miles.” Unintentionally, the volume of her voice had increased so she was almost hollering at him. “Sorry, Miles, I’m not mad at you.”
“I get it, but you’re being too hard on yourself. I’ve never criticized you as a mom. Never.”
Now he was getting mad. Another unintended consequence of the quandary she’d created.
“And one more thing. You’re taking Brooke’s bad moods way too seriously,” Miles said, his voice normal again. “Change is hard.”
Andi let out a long, weary sigh. “That’s true. But her riding camp starts soon. I’m hoping being around horses will improve her attitude.”
With a laugh in his voice, Miles said, “She’s told Evan all about her camp in great detail. That kid is so patient, and he’s only fourteen.”
“It’s worked out well for you. The move, I mean, and you and Lark.”
“Yes.” He paused. “I’m not trying to hurt you with this offer of a room in our house. Neither is Lark.”
His gentle tone triggered the growing fullness behind her eyes, but she wasn’t ready to let down her emotional barrier, not even with Miles. “True enough. But try to understand what’s behind my thinking. You and I get along well, and all that, and as much as I rooted for you and Lark, I simply can’t be under the same roof with you two.” She snickered. “That was blunt enough, I hope.”
“Handle it your way,” Miles said matter-of-factly. “I won’t bring it up again.”
She felt lighter. A burden was lifted, and suddenly a hotel suite didn’t seem so bad. She was tempted to tell Miles about other things going on with her, but she held back. They were friendly, but he wasn’t an intimate friend. Besides, she didn’t even know what was going on inside her, or why she was stirred up about change.
They ended the call and Andi immediately searched for local hotels that offered the kind of room she and Brooke would need. Of course, she thought, when the Sleepy Moon Inn came up. She’d seen it on the edge of downtown, only a few blocks away. She searched the site for vacancies, and when the information came up, she made a reservation and breathed a little easier.
Thinking about her exchange with Miles, she realized it was a good thing she hadn’t spontaneously confided her nagging wish for something different, a new direction. Wow. Those were the words she’d used years ago when she’d foolishly told him she wanted a divorce, claiming marriage—to anyone—wasn’t right for her and she needed another path.
Andi shivered inside, thinking of how ridiculous that sounded to her now.
Enough. Look ahead, not back. Her personal motto, particularly after her job ended.
Andi slipped out of her jeans and tank top and pulled her sleep shirt over her head. Going through her nightly routine helped put a stop to the useless journey into the worst part of her past. As she smoothed moisturizer across her cheeks, she struggled to recapture her excitement over the decision to move to Two Moon Bay. But the move itself was only one part of it.
She felt her old patterns shifting. Maybe it was because Brooke was growing up and needed her less. In any case, the changes weren’t limited to the mundane stuff, like finding an apartment or a predictable, if dull job in the same field. Except for a couple of huge mistakes, each involving a man, she’d lived cautiously, maybe too much so. She was always guarding against throwing her life—and Brooke’s—into disarray. Now she wanted more.
Andi fluffed the pillow and turned on her side. Closing her eyes, she decided that if she ended up in the hotel suite, she’d turn it into an adventure for herself and Brooke. She’d convince Brooke it was like camping out but without the bugs. Whoever built that run-down old boat she’d seen earlier must have wanted something out of the ordinary. So why shouldn’t she?
CHAPTER TWO (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
ZEKE STOOD BEHIND the counter and packed small orders, but kept one eye on his dad going through the routine of leashing Teddy and taking him out for a walk around the block. As always, Art opened the front door, then turned around and said, “Exercise for man and beast.”
“That’s right, Dad,” Zeke responded, as if on autopilot. Talk about a rut. Same walk, same quip every morning.
When the door closed behind the man and the beast, Zeke counted on fifteen minutes to catch up after yesterday’s glitch. He’d put over one hundred miles on his truck driving to exchange orders addressed to the wrong customers so that each package got to the right person. Fortunately, the people involved had done business with Donovan Marine Supply for years. Don’t worry, they’d said. They understood. But how could they? Zeke sometimes had trouble understanding what was happening to his dad.
Correcting these mistakes not only took time, but it also meant leaving Dad alone in the shop. Now, before he got too deep into handling the orders that had come in online overnight, Zeke hurried to the section his dad has stocked the day before. Familiar dread settled in his chest as he prepared himself to double-check the pricing and placement, and, if necessary, fix mistakes.
Crouching to look at the cost of the existing stock of various sizes of nylon line, Zeke matched them against the pricing on the new order. He let all the air out of his lungs and his breathing returned to normal. But that didn’t clear his conscience. No matter how well he prepared himself, he couldn’t fight off little stabs of guilt every time he did precisely what his dad had accused him of—going behind him to check his work.
Maybe he wouldn’t feel like such a sneak if his dad’s memory lapses, or more typically, loss of focus, occurred every day or even every week. But they didn’t. Most of the time, his dad’s work lived up to the standards their customers expected from Art Donovan, and that Art expected of Zeke. But even occasional glitches cost them money—and goodwill—all the same.
Zeke checked the last of the new stock of stainless deck hardware. Satisfied it was in good shape and priced correctly, he went back to orders on the computer.
Zeke’s mood lifted when he saw the orders for two anchor packages—anchor, chain and line. Not bad. They hadn’t even opened the door yet and they already had a substantial sale scheduled for customer pickup later that day. He moved on to the next order, this one for paint and varnish. That made him think of Drifting Dreamer. As he’d gone to sleep last night, the old yacht hung out in his thoughts. What had happened that turned such a classic boat into a wreck? One thing was sure—if they decided to sell fast and get it off their hands, the new owner was going to need a whole lot of both paint and varnish.
Or maybe he’d take on the job of giving that yacht a new life and recover the costs in the sale price. It was an appealing idea Zeke made himself shake off. He barely had time for the occasional building restoration job that came his way. Where would he find time to restore an old boat? He shouldn’t go down this road, anyway—the one where he saw the boat like she was a person with a brain and a heart and whose glory days were behind her.
Zeke heard the back screen-door hinges squeak, the signal his dad and Teddy were back.
“Hey, Zeke, there’s a lady down by the boat,” Art said, coming around the corner to the counter. “You know, that old yacht from yesterday.”
“Drifting Dreamer,Dad,” he said drily.“She’s the only boat we own.” Was there more to the story? “Uh, did she have a question or want something?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her. We have too much to do around here to stop and chat to a stranger. Even a good-looking one. The gal has some long hair.” Art let go of the leash and in a flash, Teddy turned and made a beeline for the back door.
“There goes the dog.” Zeke bit his tongue before he could snap at his dad, who hadn’t hooked the latch on the door to keep Teddy inside. “I’ll go get him.”
Teddy was out the door and headed for the dock, but Zeke managed to grab the leash off the grass and slow him down. “Hey, buddy, you can’t go out by yourself.” The dog pulled on the leash and led Zeke straight for the woman standing on the dock looking at the boat. He saw what his dad meant. Her dark hair fell more than halfway down her back.
“Okay, Teddy, we’ll stay out a little longer.” He let Teddy take him to the woman, who was tall and slender, and wore jeans and a red T-shirt. When she saw him coming, she lifted her sunglasses and perched them on her head. In her other hand, she held a giant-size Bean Grinder to-go cup.
“Good morning,” she called out, smiling. “I suppose I’m trespassing.”
He was tongue-tied. By a pretty smile and long legs. He raised his hand in protest. “Probably so, but we won’t call the sheriff, at least not yet.”
“I see. I have to prove myself first.” She held up the cup. “I’m armed only with the Bean Grinder’s morning mix.”
“In that case, we’ll...” Zeke watched Teddy sniffing the woman’s sneakers. “I was going to say we’ll call off the dogs, but, too late.”
She reached down and scratched Teddy behind his ears. “No problem. I’m not afraid of a curious dog. I was out walking last night and saw this boat, but it was dark so I couldn’t see much. Something made me walk over this morning to get a better look.”
“Well, you’re only our second visitor since the boat arrived yesterday morning.” He explained that Nelson White, the owner of the marina and boatyard next door, had also wandered down to see the new arrival. Zeke nodded to the boat. “Nelson probably thinks the Dreamer is an eyesore bringing down the neighborhood.”
Zeke pulled on Teddy’s leash to stop him from circling the visitor and wrapping the leash around her legs. “What do you think?” Why had he asked that? Just to keep her from walking away?
“Right now, I’m thinking your dog is using his nose to learn all about me and where I’ve been this morning.” Her smile grew bigger as she stared at Teddy.
“That’s no doubt true.” Zeke eagerly grabbed the chance to play along. He hadn’t had this much conversation with a stranger—a female stranger—in a long time. Well, except for customers. What else had he been missing? “His name is Teddy, by the way.”
“Theodore Donovan, I presume,” she said, deadpan, as she pointed to their giant sign mounted high enough on the building to be visible from the water. “Hmm, sounds like he should run for office.”
Zeke laughed from deep in his chest. “We never got as far as Theodore. He’s plain ol’ black-and-brown Teddy. And now he has a last name. We won’t tell him, or he’ll get a big head.”
She narrowed her eyes in amusement. “If Teddy is like most dogs I know, he’s probably spoiled rotten and already has a big head.”
Her dark blue eyes glanced down at Teddy and then to the side to take in Drifting Dreamer. But, he noted, she now seemed to be studying him. “I’m Zeke, and as it happens, my real last name is Donovan.”
He offered his free hand and she switched her coffee cup so she could grasp it. “I’m Andi Sterling. And I’m new in town.”
“I figured that out,” Zeke said. Her soft hand, extra warm from the coffee cup, gripped his.
“How so?”
No good reason, he thought, but that was no answer at all. “Because you don’t look familiar. Sometimes I think I’ve met most everyone around here at least once.”
“Well, now you know me, too. I’ve only been in Two Moon Bay for a few days.” Suddenly, her expression changed from lighthearted to serious.
“Were you curious about the boat?” He gestured to the stern. “Drifting Dreamer. The name mostly wore off with the other paint.” The hull once had been glossy black with the name painted on in bronze gold.
“You own the boat?” she asked, not looking at him but at the yacht.
“We do.” Seeing it through her eyes, he quickly added, “To make a long story short, we inherited it. Uh, as is.” That should explain its sorry state.
She turned her head to look directly at him. “Are you and your wife planning to keep it...her?”
Zeke waved her off. “Oh, no, I’m not married. I should have explained. My dad and I own the boat. Well, not exactly. It really belongs to him.” Zeke shook his head, frustrated by the way he tripped over his words, sounding like a goofy teenager. “If you can believe it, a guy who owed Dad money left it to him in his will. We haven’t decided what to do with it, but the guy settled, sort of, a twenty-year-old debt.”
“Twenty years? Wow. That’s an incredible story.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and took a sip of her coffee, showing no sign she was ready to leave.
Maybe the boat really did intrigue her. “Uh, would you like to go aboard and take a look inside?”
The bright smile was back. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” Her blue eyes flashed flirtatiously. “Curiosity is killing me.”
“Sorry, I’m just sort of shocked.”
She exaggerated a look of wide-eyed innocence. “You mean because the boat doesn’t look so good?”
Another laugh rose from deep inside. “No kidding.”
“Okay, confession time.” She gestured to the boat. “I don’t know the first thing about boats. But I’ve restored a house over a century old and badly maintained for at least thirty of those one-hundred-plus years. I know very well how old, neglected things can be brought back.”
She’d restored an old house? Hmm...intriguing. “Old and neglected. That about sums it up.” He stared at Drifting Dreamer for a few seconds. “You go on aboard. I’ll go get the key to open her up.”
She nodded and, after only a couple of seconds of hesitation, climbed from the dock to the deck.
Taking the dog with him, Zeke hurried back inside the store, and found his dad sealing up a carton. As he unhooked Teddy’s leash, he eyed the box with suspicion, memories of fixing yesterday’s order mix-up intruding into his otherwise pleasant thoughts. He’d have a look at the cartons later before they had a chance to go out. He opened the top desk drawer in the office and grabbed the keys. “Hey, Dad, the woman with the long hair? Her name is Andi and she’s curious about Drifting Dreamer. I thought I’d show her around.”
“That so? Maybe she wants to buy it?”
Zeke frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that, but she said she restored an old house. So, who knows? Maybe she won’t be able to resist the challenge.”
Art looked over his bifocals and frowned. “Don’t be long, son. We’ve got orders to fill.”
“Got it, Dad.” Zeke told Teddy to stay and let the screen door close. Teddy immediately started whining and Zeke stopped. “Andi’s right, buddy, you are spoiled.” Relenting, as Teddy surely knew he would, he said, “You stay close by. No running off.”
Teddy trotted to the boat, beating Zeke there. He wasted no time jumping from the dock to the deck.
“I bet Mr. Theodore follows you everywhere,” Andi joked.
“More or less,” Zeke said. “I think of him more as my dad’s dog, but we’re both responsible for keeping the little stray.”
“The dog apparently has good instincts.” She flashed a beaming smile that once again showed her pretty white teeth.
He opened the padlock to the cabin doors and went down the wooden companionway into the saloon, or what he thought of as the main cabin. Andi followed close behind.
“What do you think? First...no, second impressions.” He was aware that being aboard Drifting Dreamer wouldn’t do much to alter an initial impression. It would probably only make reality hit home harder.
“I think this boat has a past,” she said, following him into the center main saloon, “and I’d sure like to know what it is. Simple curiosity, I guess.”
A past? Had she read his mind? That question had turned over and over in his mind last night. It had kept him wide-awake and thinking hard. From the moment he’d secured the dock lines, he’d wondered what this boat had been up to during her better days. It was a mystery he wanted to solve.
“I get it. I’ve been asking myself that, too. Unfortunately, we know very little, except what the spec sheet told us. She was built in 1939 in Duluth at the Metzger Boat Works. Pretty famous builders, those Metzgers. The listed owner is C. Peterson. We think the boat has been in the Great Lakes since her launch, but we can’t say for sure. Somehow, she ended up in the hands of Terrance Smyth—he’s the guy who owed my dad money.”
Andi gestured around the all-mahogany interior. “Someone named her Drifting Dreamer for a reason.”
He’d thought of that, too. “Not that long ago, someone bought the diesel engine and new pumps and other gear, including a propane stove, so that person must have intended to do something with her. The galley is ready to go. And the boat is seaworthy. Made it up here from Kenosha, anyway.”
“Maybe the plan was to get her running and then fix her up,” Andi said. “Kind of like the way we lived in the house while I worked on it.”
We?Who did that include?
“I’m guessing the deterioration and damage started decades ago.”
Andi wrinkled her nose as she continued looking around.
“The stale smell of a closed-up boat.” He led the way to the large wheelhouse, where the engine controls, the compass set in its bronze housing, the old-fashioned depth sounder and the newer radar were in place and ready to go.
“His new frontier,” Zeke said, pointing to Teddy, who’d wasted no time in sniffing the corners and wagging his tail in excitement. “Now that the dog has discovered the boat has an inside, he’ll want to make it part of his regular rounds.”
They went back into the main cabin and she continued studying the boat with a dreamy look in her big, dark blue eyes.
“Some people still call these areas of a boat the saloon,” he said, standing in the middle of what was the boat’s equivalent of a combination kitchen-dining area and living room. “Although that term only applies to high-end yachts. So maybe main cabin is more like it.” He noted that she was deep in thought, her full lips pursed in concentration.
“This certainly was a high-end yacht,” Andi said. “You could seat eight or ten people around the table.” She moved inside the largest stateroom. “And this is almost like a regular bedroom.”
“So is the other cabin in the bow. It has two single bunks,” Zeke said. “I was surprised to find bunk cushions still packed in the canvas covers they were delivered in.”
“Whoever had this boat built must have had quite a vision,” she said, running her hand down the once smooth wood of the hanging locker. She tugged on the handle of one of the double doors and it broke free. “This is more like an antique armoire than an ordinary closet. It’s as big as some of the closets I’ve seen in older houses. All this mahogany in a house would boost the price a notch or two.”
Only yesterday, he’d seen mostly the boat’s decay, but now, watching her study the fixtures, assessing everything, possibilities started clicking through his brain. He knew a thing or two about restoring buildings, and that’s what fixing up this boat would be about. Restoration. Drifting Dreamer could be more than presentable. She could be a classic gem again.
“You’re right about the quality of workmanship, and about vision, too. I wish we had better records. I know one thing for certain. No one builds this kind of yacht on a whim—or on a shoestring. And back in the hard times of the 1930s, any boat builder would have been happy for the business.”
Andi nodded in agreement. “My grandpa talked endlessly about the Depression. Not much call for luxury yachts, I imagine, except for the very rich and very lucky. But Drifting Dreamer is a fantastic name.” Again, Andi ran her hand across the wood, this time one of the bulkheads. “Lots of black blotches in the wood under the peeling finish.”
Suddenly self-conscious about staring at her long, graceful fingers in constant motion, he cleared his throat. “We haven’t chewed over all the options yet, but my dad and I have to figure out what to do with her. We could sell off fixtures and bronze fittings. I know a woman who buys salvaged wood to make one-of-a-kind mirrors and picture frames. That would bring some money.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open. Pointing to the floor, she said, “You mean you’d dismantle this boat?”
Whoa, what a reaction. But it was one solution and he’d defend it. “Well, yes, scrapping her is one option. We have to be realistic. The pieces could be way more valuable than the whole boat intact.”
“Unbelievable.” Andi shook her head and pursed her lips in disgust.
She disapproved? This woman who didn’t know the first thing about him? He shouldn’t care, but he did. “Uh, that was our first thought. But then we figured since the hull seems sound there may be some life in her yet.”
Andi nodded. “I’ll bet there is.”
Zeke decided to throw out another option. “We could also sell her as is.” What if she was an interested buyer? He shouldn’t immediately assume she couldn’t or wouldn’t buy a yacht. Even a derelict boat. What did he know about her? He glanced at the teak cabin floor, dried out and gray, but still sturdy. “My dad would probably like that plan better.”
Silence. At the mention of his dad, his words took on an unexpected sadness and hung in the air. Meanwhile Teddy’s nails clicked on the floor as he scurried across the cabin and broke the silence. Zeke heard himself breathe.
“I have a question.” She abruptly faced him full-on. “What would you charge to rent this yacht to someone? For the summer, I mean.”
“Rent? You mean to someone who wanted to live on Drifting Dreamer?”
She extended her hand and flashed an isn’t-that-obvious? look. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
What was with the sharp tone? He supposed he’d annoyed her by not taking her question seriously, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Why do you ask?”
Leaning to the side, her gaze traveled up and down the largest cabin, taking it all in. “The essentials are here, Zeke. The stove has barely been used. The staterooms—cabins—could use a good cleanup.” Casting a pointed look his way, she rolled her eyes. “They clearly need more than that, but you know what I mean. People don’t build a fifty-foot boat they can’t live on for extended periods of time. As long as the plumbing and electrical systems work, she could be made livable in short order.”
Zeke leaned his weight against a bulkhead and crossed one foot over the other. Why would she ever consider moving aboard a boat that needed so much work? Or on a boat at all? Even one in tiptop shape. On the other hand, she’d said she restored an old house. At one time, restoration work was the focus of his life. That thought allowed him a little insight, maybe a hint into what made her tick. Behind those mysterious eyes. And the pretty smile. She’d sparked his curiosity before she’d spoken even one word.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Call me crazy, but what would prompt you to want to live on Drifting Dreamer?”
She stared at the floor. “It’s not so complicated, Zeke. I need a place to live.” She raised her head to look him in the eye. “Correction. My ten-year-old daughter and I need a place to live for the summer, and then when the tourist season is over, I’m sure I’ll be able to find a permanent place here in town. Right now, summer rentals are scarce in Two Moon Bay, and we’d end up moving every couple of weeks.”
A ten-year-old. A single mom and her daughter living on the boat? He was caught completely off guard. “Where are you staying now?”
She lifted her palms and let her head drop back. “I might have known you’d ask...”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Wait...why was he apologizing for asking a question anyone would?
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m just teasing. Of course you’d want to know.” She took her sunglasses off the top of her head and rearranged the white headband that held her hair off her face. “It’s complicated. At the moment, and for the next few days, I’m staying—are you ready for this?—at my ex-husband’s new wife’s cottage on Night Beach Road.”
“Ex-husband’s new wife’s cottage.” He pointed his finger downward with each word as if connecting the dots.
“We share custody of our daughter, Brooke, and at the moment, she’s in Chicago with her dad and Lark—that’s his new wife.” She grinned. “Newish wife.”
“Brooke? Lark?” he blurted. “Then Miles is your ex-husband?”
The muscles in her face relaxed, showing visible relief. “Why, yes. Do you know him—them?”
Zeke laughed. “Lark and Miles are friends of Dawn Larsen and Jerrod Waters, the guy who runs the diving trips out of the marina—they’re friends of mine. He has the tour boat, too. And I’ve met your little girl a couple of times.”
“Do you mean Lucy Bee? It’s docked at the marina?”
He nodded. “Matter of fact, Dawn and Jerrod have been married less than a year.”
“And Miles was at their wedding,” Andi said, chuckling. “Now I’m putting all the pieces together. Jerrod has a little girl, Carrie. Brooke has mentioned her.”
“Right.” Zeke led the way back to the deck. Teddy followed Andi and immediately flopped in a sunny corner and curled up, as if tuckered out from his tough morning of sniffing and endearing himself to his new friend.
“The dog has apparently heard all this before,” Andi quipped.
“Right. He knows most of the players in our conversation, so it’s very ho-hum to the family mutt.” He hadn’t joked around this much in a long time.
Way too long.
“For a minute there, I forgot that, of course, being on the waterfront you’d know Jerrod and Dawn and the rest of the crowd.”
Zeke pointed down the waterfront to Nelson’s marina, where Jerrod’s boats were tied up at the main dock. “Jerrod keeps his boats at the marina all summer. I got to know Miles at a couple of events at the yacht club.”
He turned the other way and pointed toward the glass-and-wood building down the shore. “That’s the yacht club, but it’s more than that now. They plan to have music on some weekends and they rent it out for weddings and parties.”
Andi absently looked beyond him to the water, as if suddenly distracted. “I’ve walked down that way a couple of times since I’ve been in town. Brooke has told me lots of stories about the people you mentioned.”
Zeke told Andi about what was supposed to have been a send-off party for Jerrod and his crew at the end of the season. “They were heading back south for the winter. But Jerrod and Carrie didn’t leave. Asking Dawn to marry him led to a big change of plans for Jerrod and his crew.”
Her laugh sounded a little forced when she said, “Such a chummy place. Brooke loves being here with her dad.”
Zeke couldn’t tell if her tone was wistful or resentful. Not an area he’d probe, in any case.
“We had to limit the time Brooke spent with him last year because of the distance. She was here for weekends, except when he was away doing one of his talks. But Miles and I both ate up way too much time on the road shuttling her back and forth.”
“And now you’ve moved here.” Given her connection to people he knew, Zeke was even more curious about her.
She ran her hand down the back of her head, subtly fidgeting with her hair. “Yes, I moved, but for various reasons, I ended up leaving in kind of a rush. Brooke and I have been here a week.”
Zeke listened as she added a few details about hunting for a new job, too.
“So, I got my big idea about living on your boat because I can’t stay at the cottage. Miles and Lark will have visitors from out of town staying there soon.”
In a shot, her expression had gone from lively to troubled. She idly patted the back of a deck chair. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I know this was kind of a wild idea.” She walked past him and stepped off the boat.
Now she was running off? “Wait a second, Andi. Where are you going?”
She put her sunglasses back on, but before her eyes disappeared behind them, he saw them change again. Now she looked upset, even sad. “I’ve taken up too much of your time.”
“Aren’t you going to wait for my answer?” Zeke had numbers running through his head, but they seemed meaningless. He’d never been a landlord before. If she wanted to live on the boat, what was to stop him from letting her? Well, given some time to think about it, he could probably come up with all kinds of good reasons why it was a bad idea. But he didn’t care. He and his dad could use a little life around the store.
“Answer?” Her sunglasses went back to the top of her head. She squinted in the bright sunlight.
“You asked what I’d charge.”
“Are you serious?”
“I was about to ask you that.” Some banter saved him from admitting he had no idea what kind of deal to make.
She folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head. “I was...am. But how do I know you won’t start salvaging all the valuable parts out from under me?”
He choked back a laugh at the teasing question. He didn’t want to scrap the boat, especially a finely built yacht like this one. “Seems the longer I’m on the boat, the more I like her. I bet she cleans up nice.”
“I’ve refinished my share of woodwork,” she said with a shrug. “It’s been a while, but I liked it. Loved it, actually. It was so satisfying to see the ugly transformed to beautiful again.”
She might be a stranger, but he understood a little about her already. Zeke pointed to the store. “As it happens, I have the tools and supplies you’d need to take on that job.”
“I just bet you do.” She patted a bronze fitting at the base of the canopy. “I’ll bet you have what I’d need to make this tarnished old bronze gleam in the sunshine.”
“Donovan Marine Supply at your service.”
She gave him a long look and stepped back aboard the boat. The air vibrated around him, like a low buzz. What? Zeke didn’t even believe in that sort of thing. Electricity in the air and all that. Except in a real thunderstorm. Or did he? As of this minute, maybe it wasn’t so impossible for the air to feel charged.
He cleared his throat to help him refocus. “We have power on the dock,” he said to bring himself back to practicalities, “so you wouldn’t have to run the engine to keep the refrigerator and lights on. And as you saw, the boat has a separate shower.”
She flashed an excited smile. “It’s got everything.”
“You can use the washing machines in the mudroom in the back of the store. The second floor is like an oversize storage shed now, but it used be an apartment. I grew up in that place above the store. My dad and I live in a house down the street.”
“Oh, so you live with your dad?”
“No, my dad lives with me.” He played that statement back in his mind, knowing how annoyed he’d sounded.
Her face registered frank surprise “Sorry...I guess.”
Zeke needed to explain, but that was complicated. Instead he waved her off. “Don’t mind me. Let’s get on with the arrangements.” Ideas were coming fast now. “How about a barter deal? You and Brooke live aboard Drifting Dreamer for the summer. You’ll make a start at getting the boat back in shape—cosmetically, anyway. I’ll keep you in supplies.” Grinning, he added, “And plenty of running water from Nelson’s dock.”
“You mean we could live here for free?”
“Of course, for free.” He paused. “Really? You thought I’d charge you?” He brushed his hand across peeling varnish on the cabin. “And I’ll certainly pay you for the hours you put in.”
“Pay me?”
“Well, yes. This is a big undertaking.” A new question came up. “I didn’t think to ask. Do you have a job now?”
“Nope. I thought I might look for something part-time. Maybe see if one of the shops needed extra help for the tourist season. Mostly, I’m concentrating on getting set up here in Two Moon Bay and making sure Brooke is adjusting and all that. But I’ll keep sending my résumé out as well, I suppose. The thing is...”
She stopped talking and with her forehead knitted in a deep frown, she stared off into space. He didn’t know how to finish her sentence, but apparently, neither did she. But this woman he barely knew was fired up to make a change. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind specifically, but somehow, he understood.
The sound of his cell phone interrupted his train of thought. He looked at the screen. His dad. Not a crisis, just a customer with questions. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”
She glanced at him with a faraway look in her eyes, as if the phone had startled her out of her private thoughts. “I won’t.”
He hurried off the boat, but Teddy stayed curled up out in the sun on the deck. Zeke smiled. That dog had found his second home. As he opened the door to the shop, he was still in a daze. From the looks of things, it wasn’t going to be the same old kind of summer.
* * *
THE LIST-MAKER SIDE of Andi was fully engaged. Almost too much so. Jobs swirled through her head looking for a place to land on her priority list, starting with happily canceling the reservation at the Sleepy Moon Inn. Minor decisions about what to pack and move aboard, and what to stash away in storage, were mixed up with the details of the gigantic job of making Drifting Dreamer livable in the next couple of days.
Ready to jump out of her skin, both excited and nervous, she warded off the questions coming from inside her about the wisdom of her decision. How could she explain the impulse to dive into a job like this? Until this surprise had come along this morning, she’d all but forgotten the buzz and tingle in her body that an unexpected stroke of luck could bring. It filled her with so much energy she had to do something to burn it off.
After downing half a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, Andi put her bike in the rack on the back of her car and drove south down Night Beach Road until it curved and merged with the county road that led to the beach at Sibley State Park, only a quarter mile away. The line of cars on the side road provided plenty of company on the perfect seventy-degree day. She walked her bike out of the parking lot and started pedaling at the start of the dirt bike path that wound through several miles of dense forest.
She inhaled deeply, nearly euphoric from the damp earthy scents filling her nostrils that were the opposite of the stale odor that had permeated the boat. Drifting Dreamer may have been closed up for decades. As Andi slowed her pace, her body buzzed from exertion, but she was also filled with the energy of hope. In her small way, she’d bring Drifting Dreamer to life, starting with airing the boat to banish the stale smell. She’d fling open the portholes. Right. She smiled at the image of herself flinging bronze portholes wherever. But she’d certainly open them as wide as she could. Her mind jumped ahead to the process of restoring the wood, the fixtures—everything. Like Zeke had said, he had the tools she’d need for each job.
Zeke. Now he was a puzzle. An appealing, attractive puzzle. And none of her business. But she couldn’t deny the unfamiliar feelings he’d brought up. The sense of fun, teasing, joking about Teddy. She’d had trouble keeping her eyes off of him. Even at five-ten, she’d had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye—light brown and very warm eyes. His full head of unruly dark blond hair suited him, somehow matched his casual jeans and the T-shirt with the store’s logo on it.
Their time together that morning had been interrupted by a call on his cell from his dad and Zeke has asked her to wait while he hurried off to help deal with a customer. When he’d come back, he’d brought an outdoor electrical cord and tested the interior lights and the fridge. They’d started a list of mundane items, like light bulbs and ice trays. Together, they’d motored to Nelson’s fuel dock and flushed the water tanks,and Zeke showed her how to fill them. He’d checked all of the equipment on the boat against the spec sheet. A couple of exhilarating hours flew by, not only because she saw proof that Drifting Dreamer would be a fun temporary home, but, with her imagination clicking along, she also saw the yacht’s potential to make a comeback. Kind of like an old band getting back together to relive the glory days. Grinning at her comparison, she realized she was eager to dive into the work.
Watching Zeke, listening to him explain the controls on the hot water heater, she’d wondered about his other work. Restoration, he’d said. That piqued her interest. And why had he drifted away from it? Her word, not his.
After about five miles on the deserted dirt path, the woods ended and the paved path set back from the beach started. The cooler air now carried the slightly fishy scent of the lake and the beach. She shared the trail with walkers and adults and kids zipping along on Rollerblades. A few brave souls, mostly kids, had waded into the cold water and squealed as they bounced up and down to keep warm. She watched a couple of adults scurry back to the warm sand.
Andi could have shouted with joy herself. She’d taken on a big job, but for a couple of months, she’d wake up every day and do something that didn’t involve a medical file, test result, patient inquiry, or insurance paper. Never had she imagined living on a motor yacht—in any condition.
By the time she stopped at a turnout to rest her legs before finishing the loop back to the parking lot, she’d burned off not only the nervous energy, but also any lingering self-doubt, too. Instead, she was filled with overwhelming confidence that she’d done the right thing. Rather than struggling to create a normal life for Brooke from a hotel suite, the summer with her little girl stretched long and sweet on the water.
From the minute she’d met Zeke, she was as curious about his dad as she was about him. For one thing, why had Zeke snapped at her over her question about living with his father? His only prickly moment. None of her business, of course, but Zeke had learned about Brooke and Miles. She might have known he’d already met them both, especially since Miles and Lark were part of the waterfront community in Two Moon Bay.
Did Zeke need to know about her second ex-husband? Of course not. Why had she even thought of it? No matter how much time had passed, whenever Roger came to mind, a heavy sensation settled into every muscle in her body. Those memories still had the power to make her feel bad about herself.
Andi walked her bike to an empty picnic table in the turnout and pulled her tablet out of her backpack. A few minutes later, she had a new document with to-do lists side by side on her screen, each with items under the headings Before and After, in reference to the move. It took no time at all to create a couple of long lists.
Done with her lists for the time being, Andi texted Miles, telling him she’d found a place. She added, Details later, want to surprise Brooke.
And what a fun surprise it was.
And mysterious, she thought, as she got on her bike and began pedaling back to the parking lot. But if Drifting Dreamer was a classic design and had been built in a well-known boatyard, there would have to be some record of her somewhere. A boat registry? Or boatyard records? It couldn’t hurt to do a little online research.
* * *
IT WAS LATE that night before Zeke had a chance to do even a quick search. And it was a fluke that a notice in a Duluth newspaper led to the first mention of the boat that was bobbing in the breeze at his dock. It seemed that someone named Charles Peterson had thrown a launch party in September of 1939 for Drifting Dreamer. He must not have had much time to use it that late in the year, not up in Lake Superior.
Zeke’s first thought was how many Charles Petersons probably lived in Minnesota in the 1930s.
“Well, we have one clue, Teddy,” Zeke said to the dog snoozing at his feet. “Are you impressed?” The dog opened one eye. Zeke laughed. He bet Andi would find this news quite intriguing. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
He sat back in the chair, staring at the man in the photo standing on the dock next to his boat. Now, almost eighty years later, a woman he didn’t know was moving onto a boat he’d never heard of forty-eight hours ago. It made him wonder what would happen next.
CHAPTER THREE (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
“JUST TELL ME where we’re going. Why can’t you let me in on your big secret?” Brooke asked in a crabby tone.
Andi was more than a little crabby herself. She frowned at her pouty little girl. “You’d think I was punishing you. I told you, this is a surprise.”
Andi shook her head. A surprise that showed every sign of landing with a thud. The rain had started in the middle of the night. It had let up a little in the last hour or so, but not much. It wasn’t the rain that bothered her. She’d put a couple of umbrellas in the car and they had rain jackets, although Brooke’s barely fit anymore. Andi had already added buying her a new one to her expanding list of things to do.
Brooke squirmed under her seat belt. “I wish my riding camp was starting today.”
“I know you do, sweetie, but it’s not much longer. Right after the Fourth of July. Then you’ll get to ride horses every day.”
When had Brooke started talking about horses and longing for one of her own? Maybe five years ago. She’d already named her horse-to-be. Magic was the first name she picked, and Magic it had stayed. Andi and Miles had agreed to wait until she was twelve before letting her have a horse of her own. By then she’d be old enough to take on the responsibilities of owning a horse, and could earn money doing chores to help pay the boarding fees at one of the nearby stables. Two more years.
“Just think, by the first day of your camp, we’ll be settled in our new place.”
“Did you find us a house like Dad’s?”
Andi shook her head. “Nope.” Naturally, Brooke would compare everything to Miles’s huge new house.
“Then it must be a cottage like Lark’s,” Brooke said confidently.
Keeping the spirit of surprise and intrigue going, Andi shook her head again.
“I know, I know,” Brooke said. “You rented a cool apartment above one of those stores downtown. Maybe on top of the bakery or the ice-cream shop.”
Great, that sounded appealing, even to Andi. “I’m thinking you’ll never guess. But it’s lots of fun.”
Brooke had come home last night full of stories about Sue, the dinosaur at the Field Museum of Natural History. And the bus ride to the zoo? The most exciting ride ever. Who knew public transportation could be so exotic? One day, Brooke announced, she would move to Chicago and live in a building and ride an elevator up to her apartment, where she could see the whole city from her huge windows. Andi hoped her daughter would have everything she dreamed of. It was a nice idea. Maybe that idea would stick, just like Brooke’s desire for a horse had lasted.
Lark’s cottage was only a few blocks from Donovan’s, Andi’s shorthand for Zeke’s store and docks. With Brooke sitting next to her with her forehead wrinkled in thought, only the slap of the windshield wipers broke the silence. Please, please don’t rain all day, she begged the gods of weather. Yesterday, she’d opened hatches and portholes to air out the boat and cut through the stale odor clinging to everything. She’d used her hand vacuum to clear away the first layer of dust and then wiped away the grime stuck on the woodwork in the staterooms. Then she’d finished up her workday by making up both bunks in the second stateroom, Brooke’s room. Satisfied she’d put the boat in suitable living conditions, she’d gone back to the cottage to wait for Miles to drop off Brooke.
Before leaving the cottage this morning, she encouraged Brooke to pack up a few of the wooden and ceramic horses in her collection, hoping the smile she sent Brooke’s way conveyed the air of fun mystery she intended. “There’s a perfect place for them in your new bedroom,” she’d said.
Andi was eager to share her excitement about restoring Drifting Dreamer. She’d explain to Brooke that the two of them would always remember the year they lived on a yacht all summer. It would be their special adventure. She’d tell her that even this run-down boat could be made beautiful again, just like she’d made their house in Green Bay beautiful. Not that Brooke could remember the months stretching to years of hard work that had made that happen.
Andi pulled into a parking place at the Bean Grinder and took Brooke inside with her to pick up coffee, a carton of milk and two blueberry muffins. “We’ll have our treat at our new table.” Or if the rain and wind let up, they could sit under the canopy at the deck table.
Brooke, distracted by all the pastries in the glass case, nodded but said nothing.
It was still drizzling when they parked at Donovan’s. “I’ll take the bag and coffee, you take the milk carton. Put up your hood and follow me.” She tried to keep her voice upbeat and light, but seeing the boat in the rain threatened her good mood, never mind Brooke’s impatience cutting into her positive attitude. Andi winced at the sorry sight of Drifting Dreamer. She didn’t look pretty under a clear sky, but in the rain, she was a real shipwreck.
When they reached the dock, Andi jolted, surprised to see Zeke appear on deck and lift his hand in a greeting. He was dry under the deck canopy.
“What’s going on?” Brooke asked.
“Well, this is Drifting Dreamer, our new home. Only for the summer.” Andi stepped aboard, looked behind her and pointed to the deck. “Just take one step and you’ll be aboard.” She nodded to Zeke. “I hear you’ve already met Zeke. He and his dad own the marine supply store and this dock, and now he owns this boat, too. I’m going to help him fix her up.”
Greeting her with a big smile, Zeke said, “Nice to see you again, Brooke. I met you at a party at the yacht club.”
Brooke stared at him, frowning.
Andi turned to Zeke and, keeping her voice low, asked, “Did something happen?”
“When the rain started in the night I got to thinking that I’d seen a couple of signs of leaking, so I came to check it out.”
Andi looked inside. Rolled-up towels were catching water landing on the counter. The source of the steady drip was a row of portholes on the port side. Buckets were catching water coming through cracks in the cabin roof and housing.
“Oh, no,” Andi muttered under her breath.
“I don’t want to live on a leaky old boat,” Brooke said with a quick shrug.
Andi laughed nervously. “I know it doesn’t look so good now, but it will. You’ll see.”
“We can get these leaks taken care of in no time. Before the boat was brought up here, she was covered up with a canvas tarp,” Zeke said with his focus on Brooke. “She’s been out of the water a long time. When that happens, the wood dries out and even the hull takes in water through the seams. But we’ll seal up everything. The place where you’re going to sleep is dry.”
“This isn’t the surprise I had in mind, Brooke.” Andi put her coffee and the bag on the deck table. “But, like Zeke says, the leaks can be fixed right away.” Desperate to sound bright and optimistic, she added, “I didn’t get to tell you the rest of the plan. This summer, I’m going to strip off all this old yellow varnish and sand the wood and make it gleam again. I can do this while we live here. We’ll even eat outside on the deck all the time. Like a picnic every day.”
Zeke nodded, his expression encouraging.
Brooke looked at the milk carton still in her hand. “I don’t care. I don’t want to eat outside. This isn’t a house.”
The rollout of her big surprise had gone so wrong, but Andi struggled to keep her voice steady, even firm, when she spoke. “That’s true, Brooke, but lots of people live on boats just like this. It’s a special kind of adventure. Some people live on motor yachts and sailboats and move from port to port, always exploring something new.”
“You have everything you need here,” Zeke said. “Even a shower and plenty of hot water. And your room has two bunks and a closet.”
“You can have a friend here to spend the night,” Andi said, flashing a grateful look to Zeke. She needed all the help she could get and was quickly running out of ideas. “Let’s go see the inside.”
“My friends are in Green Bay. Remember? We moved.” Her mouth tight, Brooke pivoted halfway around and stared off the stern into the distance. “There’s no one to invite.”
“There’s that little girl, Carrie.” Andi cast a hopeless look at Zeke, immediately regretting her suggestion. It had come to mind only because Carrie’s dad, Jerrod, ran diving trips, and Brooke knew the girl through Lark and her friends.
“Carrie’s six, Mom.”
“I know, I know. But you’ve mentioned her a few times. How nice she is. That’s all.” She turned to watch Zeke, who had gone inside the cabin and was making a show of checking the towels and buckets.
They’d reached an impasse. “We can talk this out later, Brooke. Come over to the table and have your snack.”
“Okay.” Brooke sat in the chair at the table. She yanked at her rain jacket and the snaps let go.
Good idea, Andi thought, as she slipped out of her jacket. They were dry under the canopy and the rain had tapered off to a drizzle, but humidity hung heavy in the air.
“You can take me to Dad’s,” Brooke said, lifting her chin a notch. “I’ll stay with him this summer.”
Her stomach dropped as she nearly shouted words of protest. But she held back her first negative response and closed her eyes. She would not overreact. She wouldn’t yell. But no way would Brooke spend her entire summer with her dad. Given Miles’s schedule, it was impossible, anyway.
She slid into a chair across from Brooke. “You know your dad has to go out of town to give his speeches and work with his clients, honey. He said he was flying out later today, in fact. His schedule isn’t going to change. Besides, your dad and I have always had our own time with you. Now that we’re living close by, it’s going to be even easier to make sure you see him when he’s in town.”
With her jaw set, Brooke said, “Lark won’t mind if I stay there all the time.”
“But I’ll mind, Brooke,” she blurted. She paused to let that sink in. She’d hold her ground. For herself, but also to head off problems with Brooke’s stepmom. Brooke had it wrong. Lark would mind. She had a son and a writing business to run. “This is a new experience for us, sweetie, just like your riding camp will be different and exciting. You need to give the boat a chance. I have a feeling you’ll like it.”
Brooke shook her head. “No, I won’t.” She took a big bite of her muffin and refused to meet Andi’s gaze.
Andi saw no choice but to ignore Brooke’s response. “Well, then, you finish up your muffin. I’ll show you the rest of the boat.” Andi picked up her coffee and muffin.
Going below, Zeke flashed a sympathetic look, prompting Andi to mouth the words, It will be okay.
“I hung around because I wanted to explain a few things about the leaks,” Zeke said, his voice conversational. “Fortunately, the staterooms are okay. It’s here in the galley and main saloon where the water’s coming in.”
Andi noted Zeke’s raised voice and his emphasis on saloon wasn’t lost on Brooke, whose face had taken on a look of curiosity.
Andi suppressed a smile. It would take a little more work to coax a question out of Brooke.
Keeping her voice casual, Andi led Zeke into Brooke’s stateroom and patted the shelf. “I was thinking the horse collection could go here.”
“Good place for it,” Zeke said agreeably.
“I plan to start the exterior work on good weather days, the cooler the better,” Andi said. “The rails can wait, but I can fill the cracks in the cabin house and start bringing that wood back. Both inside and out, I’ll take the doors off the lockers and work on them away from the boat. Easier that way.”
“Sounds good. There’s plenty of room in our workshop, which doubles as a storage shed, but I’ll get that cleaned out. We can store your supplies and tools there, too,” Zeke said. “You can start whenever you want.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brooke staring into the cabin, the unopened carton of milk still in her hand. Andi opened a heavy wooden door, exposing the empty shelves of the counter-size refrigerator. “If you don’t want your milk now, you can put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.”
“That’s a refrigerator?” Brooke asked.
Andi nodded.
“It’s kinda small.”
“The grocery store is right down the street. We’ll shop a little more often. That’s what people who live on boats do.”
“Back in the old days, boats like this didn’t have refrigerators,” Zeke said. “They used to put blocks of ice inside of lockers like this. They called them ice chests.”
Andi smiled at Zeke, noticing how his warm eyes communicated understanding. “Want to split my blueberry muffin?” she asked him. No harm in providing another subject to chat about.
“Uh, sure,” he said.
Andi picked up the muffin off the table and put it on top of the refrigerator before using her fingers to split it more or less in half. “Help yourself.”
“Nothing quite like a Bean Grinder muffin,” Zeke said, breaking off a chunk and popping it in his mouth. “My dad and I go there for something almost every day.”
“That place is one of the best things about living in Two Moon Bay.” She kept her hands busy and periodically glanced at Zeke, who continued playing along with her game of slowly introducing the different features of the boat, taking a side trip only to extol the Bean Grinder.
The sound of a dog barking in the background got Zeke’s attention. “Teddy,” he said, frowning. “My dad must have brought him down.” He went out to the deck.
Andi followed and laughed when she saw Teddy dash to the boat, dragging his leash. An older man, presumably Art, followed behind and tried to catch up to the fast dog. Zeke hurried off the boat and onto the dock and caught the dog by the collar in the grass. “Hey, Teddy, slow down.”
“Is that your dog?” Brooke called out.
“He is, and he gets excited when he sees kids.”
“Why?” Brooke went to the rail on the stern to watch the dog, the whole back half of him in motion, not just his wildly wagging tail.
Andi joined her, smiling to herself. Teddy the goodwill ambassador. Maybe he’d save the day. Her spirits soared when she noted the rain had completely stopped. The dripping below would stop, too.
“We don’t know why he’s drawn to kids, Brooke,” Zeke said, “but he’s always been that way.”
Was that true? Andi wondered. Or was Zeke saying that to get Brooke’s attention? Watching the dog jump around, obviously more excited than usual, she thought maybe Teddy really was a kids’ kind of dog.
“My dad and I figure he gets bored with us. He wants more active companions,” Zeke said, hanging on to the leash as Art got closer. “Right, Dad?”
“Yep. Teddy sort of wandered into our lives. Maybe he had kid friends in his puppyhood and now he wishes we had a girl like you around.” Art came closer to the stern. “I’m Art. You must be the one Teddy’s been waiting for. What’s your name?”
“Brooke.” She stared at the dog. He was still jumping and straining to get free. “Are you sure the dog—Teddy—likes kids?”
“Sit, Teddy, sit,” Zeke ordered. “He’s just all worked up now. He didn’t know company was coming today.”
Andi watched as the dog obeyed and sat, but his tail thumped on the dock. Seeing Teddy get this excited over Brooke, Andi couldn’t help but be a little apprehensive herself. Zeke was holding him back, though.
“He’ll settle down in a minute,” Zeke said, as if reading her mind.
Andi waved to Art. “I’m Andi. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet.”
Smiling, Art said, “It’s nice to see this place looking alive.” He elbowed Zeke. “It gets kind of dull around here with just the two of us.”
Andi could have planted a big kiss on Art’s cheek. In spite of herself, Brooke was focused on the dog and Art. Distractions, Andi thought. Maybe the initial knee-jerk negativity would soften.
“Mind if I come aboard and have a look around?” Art asked. “Zeke has had all the fun out here getting her ready for you. I’ve been so busy in the store I haven’t had but one quick peek inside.”
“Of course.” Andi swept her arm in a welcoming gesture. “Come aboard.”
Zeke stayed behind with the dog, and Brooke stood still and kept her eyes on Teddy, while Andi led Art into the cabin.
“Zeke is bringing me supplies to help fix the leaks,” she said. “Brooke and I will move aboard in a couple of days, and provided we don’t get more rain, I ought to be able to fill the cracks on the cabin top.”
Art nodded. “Zeke will get that done for you. Right away. We don’t want you and Brooke living with towels and buckets all over the place.” He opened some locker doors in the galley, nodded in approval and then looked into the bigger stateroom in the stern. “She was built to be a luxury yacht. That much is clear.”
Andi heard Teddy on the deck and Zeke’s voice warning him not to jump. “Sounds like Brooke and Teddy are being introduced.”
Art grinned. “He’s a good little critter all around. As soon as he showed up, I knew that unless his owners claimed him, ol’ Teddy would know he’d found himself a couple of suckers to give him a new home.”
“Oh, yeah, I can tell he’s been such a burden,” Andi teased.
Art’s brown eyes were full of fun. “Ah, you’re on to us already.”
Looking out to the deck, Andi could see Brooke had crouched down next to the sitting dog and was petting him, starting at the top of his head and running her hand all the way down his furry back. “You’re a cute dog, Teddy,” she said. “Lots of my friends in Green Bay have dogs, so I’m used to them. As long as they don’t jump on me.”
Zeke stood nearby keeping an eye on Brooke and Teddy. Art continued looking around—opened notched drawers, checked hinges and hardware on the lockers. Andi took her own inventory of all the hardware and wood she’d remove, repair and restore. The storage behind the curved seat at the table had sliding doors that dragged in their tracks when Art tried to open them.
“These can all be taken out,” Art said. “A little sanding will get ’em riding in the grooves.”
“That’s the plan,” she said, feeling lighter now that she was engaged in talking about her work plan—her strategy to make real progress. Maybe the worst was over? At least Brooke could see they wouldn’t be isolated on the waterfront. They’d even have a dog coming around to say hello.
With Zeke staying with him, Teddy came down into the cabin and began his rounds sniffing in the corners and disappearing into the cabin in the bow. Brooke’s room, Andi thought. Pretending she hadn’t noticed, Andi turned her attention to sliding some locker doors back and forth with Art to see what they’d need. She didn’t comment when Brooke followed Teddy.
Andi soon heard Brooke’s voice coming from the cabin. “What are you smelling, Teddy? Something good?”
Zeke caught her eye and they connected as if she’d known him for years. Art kept at his project of opening every one of the dozens of storage drawers and cabinets, exclaiming over the space.
“Zeke? Art?” Brooke called out. “Is it okay if Teddy sits on the bunk? He jumped up here.”
Zeke held out his hand to his dad to keep him from blurting an answer. Instead, he said, “It’s your cabin, Brooke. It’s up to you and your mom.”
“It’s fine with me,” Andi said.
“Okay,” Brooke called out. “You can stay, Teddy.”
Putting her palms flat on the dining table, Andi rested her weight on them and exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath for hours. Relieved at last, Andi picked up her coffee and pulled off a piece of the muffin, moist with blueberries. She could savor it now.
“It’s just like that dog to make himself at home,” Art said, chuckling. “Right, Zeke?”
Andi quickly ate her half of the muffin in silence, while Zeke checked the towels and Art poked around in the lockers.
Suddenly, Art smacked his hands together. “Uh-oh, I just remembered. I’ve got to get back and finish repacking up all that foul-weather gear that got dumped at our front door.”
Zeke spun around. “What? That shipment that came in yesterday was our new rain jackets and boots and pants.”
“Nah, it was the wrong kind,” Art said, swatting the air. “We’d never order the stuff that’s in those boxes.”
Zeke gave Andi a pointed look. “I’ll come with you, Dad. We can get it all sorted out.”
“Did you say rain gear?” Andi asked, hoping her instincts were right and she was following Zeke’s lead.
Nodding, Zeke said, “It’s a new brand we’re trying out. The first order arrived yesterday.”
“I was just thinking that Brooke needs a raincoat. For the summer. She outgrew her old one.”
“We have some in children’s sizes.” Zeke followed Art to the deck and off the boat.
“Why don’t I get Brooke and we’ll be right along,” Andi suggested. “We’ll bring Teddy with us.”
Although clearly distracted, Zeke said, “Okay, that’s good.”
Sensing something was going on between Art and Zeke she didn’t understand, Andi went back inside the cabin to get Brooke and the dog. Wow, in a split second, the atmosphere had changed. Or, more to the point, Zeke’s mood had changed. Worry had changed his eyes, darkened his expression. Over raincoats?
* * *
THE RACK ZEKE had cleared for the new rain gear stood empty. Only the old hanging display held the same brand of heavy—some called it stiff and uncomfortable—rain jackets and pants they’d sold for years. “There’s nothing wrong with the old foul-weather gear, Dad,” Zeke said, keeping his hand on top of the pile of new jackets, “but we need to offer the lighter-weight type. I’ve done the research. People like it. Not everyone needs to be dressed for a gale, not when they’re out for an afternoon in their runabout.”
Agitated, Art slapped the side of the box. “Did you see the price on those pieces? They might be lightweight, but that doesn’t make them any good. Could be just the opposite.”
Zeke made his case about quality and customers asking for the newer gear. “You and I talked about this before I put the order in.”
Such a small thing, but it was the kind of incident that triggered Zeke’s growing fear about his dad. They’d been over and over the need to update merchandise, including a line of upscale marine clothing perfect for the cold, damp Midwest days. “Remember what we talked about, Dad. It’s not only about what the customers need, it’s about what they want, what they ask for.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t remember ordering any of this,” Art said, his voice rising with every word. “Our regular rain gear has served this store and our customers for over fifty years.”
Back to where they started. If he didn’t stop it in its tracks, they’d repeat the whole circle of thought. He didn’t like strong-arming his dad about decisions affecting the store, but Zeke found himself forced into it more and more. The squeak of the screen door opening came as a relief. Andi and Brooke might distract Dad and put the brakes on the argument. Teddy came in so fast, he slid across the floor. “Well, Teddy, you’re having the best day ever,” Zeke said. Like I was...until now.
“We hear you have rain jackets here. Did we come to the right place?” Andi’s tone was so cheery it hurt. She was nobody’s fool. She’d read the situation well enough to know something wasn’t quite right.
He watched her study the piles of yellow raincoats. Maybe later, he’d have a chance to pull her aside and tell her what he’d uncovered about Drifting Dreamer. It wasn’t all that much, but it was something.
“We stick with the standard yellow,” Art said to Brooke. “Any other color and you’ll look like a landlubber.”
Brooke giggled. At times like this, when his dad was funny and entertaining, it seemed a shame he’d never had a grandchild to dote on. But the next minute, his dad’s face seemed to cloud over. Befuddled, he turned to Zeke. “So, what were you saying? You want me to box all this up?”
Zeke lifted a handful of folded jackets out of the carton. “Nope, we’re going to stack some and hang up the rest.” His arms loaded with jackets, Zeke went across the store and put them on a display table.
“I wish you’d told me about this order,” Art said, his tone accusatory and plaintive.
Forcing a reassuring, soothing tone of voice, Zeke said, “No big deal.” He turned to Andi, whose now solemn gaze was focused on his dad. Zeke’s chest was heavy with raw impatience. No excuses, no weaseling out of the reality that irritation with his dad had nearly gotten the better of him. And over a shipment of raincoats.
So often the what’s-next? question loomed in Zeke’s mind. His fears of what was ahead were a constant presence, part of being vigilant, always on guard. What if his dad had managed to pack that merchandise and send it back? When he played the question out, all the way to the end, he relaxed long enough to see it could have been written off as a simple mistake and quickly corrected. But what was happening to his dad wasn’t so easily fixed.
Since he’d brought Andi into their small world, he’d need to give her a heads-up. Regret lodged in his chest. Maybe he’d made a big mistake. Scrapping Drifting Dreamer would have been a whole lot easier.
Brooke’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where did Teddy go?”
“He’s probably flopped down in his bed next to the file cabinets,” Art said, grinning. “You probably tuckered him out. He’s not used to having a lively kid around.” Art pointed to the open door to the office. “Why don’t we go see what he’s up to?”
“Maybe he needs water or something,” Brooke said, following Art.
Andi smiled as she moved closer to the counter. “You should have seen Brooke just now. She caught a little of the excitement about living on the boat, discovering how many cubbyholes and shelves she has in her cabin.”
Zeke nodded, but then gestured around him. “Sorry I had to run off so fast, but real life intruded around here.”
“No problem,” Andi said, patting one of the boxes. “Since I’m already here, why don’t I help you finish unpacking this carton? You said it has the kids’ jackets? I can pick out the size for Brooke and let her try it on.”
Zeke responded forcefully. “You don’t need to do that.”
“But I want to.” She held his gaze, almost challenging him. “I insist.”
“Well, okay, follow me.” He carried the carton to the display table in their clothing section and explained the process of getting them displayed and ready to sell.
“Sounds straightforward enough. And I’m sure I’ll find a new jacket for Brooke.” She leaned toward him. “Is everything okay—with Art, I mean?”
Zeke shook his head, grateful for the opening handed to him. “Something’s off. It’s not your imagination. I’ll explain later when we’re alone. But Art’s fine most of the time.”
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Virginia McCullough
Moving to a new place isn’t easy…Until a neglected ship—and its owner—make her feel at homeAfter spying a boat in need of some TLC, single mom Andi Sterling strikes a deal with its owner, Zeke Donovan, who shares her passion for restoring old things. Uncovering the legendary ship’s secrets draws them closer. Is it too soon for Andi to open her heart to the chance to build new dreams?
Moving to a new place isn’t easy...
Until a neglected ship and its owner make her feel at home
After spying a boat in need of some TLC, single mom Andi Sterling strikes a deal with its owner, Zeke Donovan, who shares her passion for restoring old things. Uncovering the legendary ship’s secrets draws them closer. Is it too soon for Andi to open her heart to the chance to build new dreams?
After a childhood spent on Chicago’s sandy beaches, VIRGINIA McCULLOUGH moved to a rocky island in Maine, where she began writing magazine articles. She soon turned to coauthoring and ghostwriting nonfiction books, and eventually began listening to the fictional characters whispering in her ear. Today, when not writing stories, Virginia likes to wander the world.
To contact the author, please visit virginiamccullough.com (http://www.virginiamccullough.com), or find her on Twitter, @vemccullough (https://twitter.com/vemccullough), and Facebook, Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7 (http://www.Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7).
Also By Virginia McCullough (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
Girl in the Spotlight
Something to Treasure
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Love, Unexpected
Virginia McCullough
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08498-7
LOVE, UNEXPECTED
© 2018 Virginia McCullough
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Sitting across from him, Andi held her water bottle out to propose a toast.
“To Drifting Dreamer,” she said, tapping her bottle against Zeke’s. “I can’t stop thinking about what I may uncover about her next.”
Zeke threw his head back. “Oh, no. Now every day I’ll wonder if something new has turned up.”
“I’ll keep you guessing, section by section,” she said, cocking her head. “It’s tempting to start taking apart every inch of the boat. No telling what we’d find under the bunks.”
“But maybe it’s better to keep the suspense going,” he said, surprising himself.
Her expression changed. “Funny, isn’t it? A boat named Drifting Dreamer simply showed up here one day without fanfare or even much preparation.”
“So did you,” Zeke teased, his voice low and right on the edge of flirtatious.
Dear Reader (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67),
Welcome back to Two Moon Bay, a small town on Wisconsin’s Lake Michigan shore. In the third book in the series, several characters from Girl in the Spotlight and Something to Treasure are back and two have a story of their own. Love, Unexpected proves romance can tap us on the shoulder, even if we’ve closed our hearts to love.
Andi and Zeke find they share a passion for restoration and strike a deal to make the boat Drifting Dreamer beautiful again. Curious about the dreams behind the ship’s name, the two search for answers while they bring the vessel back to life. As they discover what can—and can’t—be restored, they confide their secrets and maybe even spin new dreams.
I hope you enjoy Andi and Zeke’s special summer in Love, Unexpected. You can visit me and add your name to my mailing list at virginiamccullough.com (http://www.virginiamccullough.com). Find me on Twitter, @vemccullough (https://twitter.com/vemccullough), and Facebook, Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7 (http://www.Facebook.com/virginia.mccullough.7).
To one more happy ending,
Virginia McCullough
For my two grown children, Laura & Adam—
to paraphrase Rat in The Wind in the Willows,
they’ve had some experience
“messing about in boats.”
Contents
Cover (#uc9e1d26b-3f0e-568f-9d16-0f368608462d)
Back Cover Text (#u321bc631-e2ac-5440-b397-9173bf563ee3)
About the Author (#u9226b344-39b1-5a8c-970b-f6b23c482c1d)
Booklist (#uf64127c5-6e8c-5220-ba70-e5a3ce78dc12)
Title Page (#u655e8a7a-3726-5223-b5c0-0420d9ffe01f)
Copyright (#u2b02df46-1fac-5180-85e9-9d3f96d6c807)
Introduction (#uc7929d9d-0667-55ee-ad28-8ce485bed158)
Dear Reader (#u4c66a2fd-4e7a-58ea-932d-6ef1d28069e0)
Dedication (#u32813236-f0a4-5773-9006-8b75fe59e057)
CHAPTER ONE (#u51eddc66-8772-5358-bc21-cd8b6ce89333)
CHAPTER TWO (#u63132ec5-9058-5587-bfc2-bb0b2391cae0)
CHAPTER THREE (#u2c6d711e-feef-55a9-a1ce-a948c6b84d33)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
ZEKE DONOVAN DIDN’T like his choices. He could simmer inside, or maybe stomp around the dock. Or he could let loose and holler at somebody. But as frustrated as he was, he knew perfectly well he wouldn’t do any of those things. He wasn’t the simmering, stomping, hollering type. Especially not when it came to his dad.
Planting a hand on his hip, Zeke filled his lungs and let the air out in a long sigh. On the few occasions in the last few years he’d been angry at his dad over mistakes or mix-ups, Zeke always ended up feeling guilty. Besides, anger didn’t solve anything. Today, like other days, he’d just have to figure out a way to clean up the mess Dad left behind.
Mess was a good word for the ancient motor yacht gently rocking at their Donovan Marine Supply dock in Two Moon Bay. By any standards, the boat was fifty feet of peeling varnish, not to mention the cracks in the wooden cabin house and rails. The sooner Zeke could find a way to get the eyesore off his hands—and off his dock—the better.
Early that morning, before they’d even flipped their sign from Closed to Open, Zeke learned Drifting Dreamer would be delivered to their dock in Two Moon Bay that day. Like a switch had flipped on inside his head, Dad suddenly remembered he’d inherited a yacht. The memory surfaced after a call from a lawyer’s office downstate in Kenosha confirmed the boat would arrive by noon. How this derelict motor yacht ended up settling a twenty-year-old debt was a question still waiting for an answer.
Zeke glanced at his dad and then studied the papers he held. “The original letter is dated in March, Dad.” He pointed to a date in the body of the letter. “There it is, right there at the end, the estimated delivery date in June. Today.”
Frowning, Art Donovan said, “I meant to tell you about that letter from the law firm. But I must have stuck it in the drawer in my nightstand.”
Out of sight, out of mind, Zeke thought. This shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. His dad often forgot day-to-day events, but typically remembered details of his dealings with a customer from years ago. Unfortunately, stashing the March letter in a drawer in his room was like him, too. Zeke worked with his dad every day, but at no time in these last few months had the letter from the law firm surfaced.
The letter was addressed to his dad, Arthur Donovan. The facts confirmed that a man named Terrance Smyth had died and bequeathed this very old, but classic yacht to his dad to settle that debt. Zeke slapped the sheaf of legal documents against his thigh. “Do you remember the guy who stiffed you, Dad?”
“You bet I remember him.” Art flapped his hand toward the boat. “I spent a couple of months trying to track him down to pay for the hardware I sold him to outfit his boat—about two grand worth of top-of-the-line stainless steel. I almost found him, but he disappeared again. I finally gave up. Wrote it off as a bad debt and moved on.”
Art shook his head and jabbed his finger in the air toward the run-down boat. “But it wasn’t this boat he was outfitting, not Drifting Dreamer. What I sold him was hardware for his fiberglass sailboat.”
None of that really mattered. “We might as well have a closer look.” Zeke stepped from the dock to the deck of Drifting Dreamer. He bounced a few times to test its strength before glancing over his shoulder and nodding to his dad. “Come on aboard. Seems sturdy enough to support us. At least it’s teak and probably cleans up pretty easily. The deck might be newer than everything else topside.”
From the aft deck, Zeke quickly scanned the boat from bow to stern. “Since you own this baby, such as she is, free and clear, we might as well see what we can salvage. Or...”
“Or what?” Art asked.
“Beats me.” Zeke grinned at his dad, his mood softening enough to bring back his sense of humor.
For the next few minutes, Zeke pushed away worrying thoughts of his dad’s odd memory lapses. Were they really happening more frequently, or did it only seem that way sometimes? Like now, when a fifty-foot boat showed up unannounced. The one bright spot was that unlike some of his dad’s other mistakes, this one wouldn’t hurt their marine supply business, except in lost time spent ridding themselves of the run-down yacht. But still, how could anyone, even a forgetful person like his dad, let an unexpected inheritance this substantial slip his mind?
Thinking back twenty years, Zeke had been away at college and had no memory of this bad debt. Dad obviously had handled it by himself, as he had everything connected with the family business.
“Hey, Zeke,” Art called from the wheelhouse, “Drifting Dreamer must have been a beauty in her day. Not everything’s old, either. She’s got electronics they didn’t make back in 1939.”
“I can see that,” Zeke said honestly, looking at the spec sheet. Even the diesel engine was only six years old and showed its good condition with a healthy hum when the two guys hired to deliver Drifting Dreamer had maneuvered between the pilings on the dock. Newer equipment aside, on closer inspection, the overall condition of the boat was every bit as sad as it appeared at first glance. The remaining traces of varnish on the mahogany trim and wheelhouse were only reminders of the yacht’s better days. Zeke grimaced at the sight of blackening wood and cracked joints and seams.
“All the hardware is bronze,” Zeke called, trying to insert a positive note. “That’s worth something.” If they scrapped the boat parts, they’d recoup the original two thousand dollars—with interest. Zeke gently kicked the toe of his shoe against the row of wooden bins under the rail of the aft deck. They rarely saw that high-quality mahogany anymore, except on the luxury custom boats very few people could afford.
When Zeke went into the main cabin, his dad was peering inside the oven of the newish stove, another item on the spec sheet that puzzled Zeke. Someone had a plan to bring back Drifting Dreamer. But who? Zeke shook off the question. It intrigued him, like a mystery, but it didn’t matter. He and his dad needed a new plan. Now.
To start, Zeke supposed they could ask Nelson White, their old friend who owned the marina and boatyard next door, to haul the boat out of the water, so they could begin salvaging whatever was valuable and get rid of the rest. But then he muttered, “A little sweat and sandpaper could help. To get her ready to sell, I mean. Maybe there’s life in the boat yet. We don’t need to junk her.”
His dad grinned and cupped his ear, acknowledging the groan of the pump that ran for a few seconds before coming to a halt with a clunk. “The bilge pump works.”
“See? Another selling point. Besides, we know for sure she’s seaworthy enough to make the trip from Kenosha.”
According to the paperwork, the nearly eighty-year-old yacht had been built in Duluth, Minnesota, and launched in 1939. It was a Bergstrom 50, a legendary design. That alone made her a classic, Zeke thought. From the attorney’s letter, Zeke learned Smyth bought the boat four years before he died. It had been sitting under a tarp in a boatyard, the victim of years of neglect.
He’d added a note in his will about it being better late than never to make restitution.
“Man, oh, man, you don’t have this much storage in your house,” Art called from the forward cabin.
“That big, huh?” Zeke was amused by his dad’s remark, even knowing it was his responsibility to resolve this result of a twenty-year-old problem. As a kid, he and his dad had been referred to as Art and his boy, Zeke. Even when he’d been almost thirty years old he was still Art’s boy. But over these last years, the situation reversed. Now people around town called them Zeke and his dad, Art. The shift was subtle at first, and really shouldn’t have mattered. But it did, mainly because Art had changed over the years, and Zeke had all but forced his dad to leave the apartment over their store and move into his house down the street.
“Must have cost a small fortune,” Art said as he came out of the cabin. “But there’s a lot of pride in this old yacht.”
Standing in the galley, Zeke agreed with his dad. It was built to be a showpiece and was made with the best materials available in the 1930s. In his mind’s eye, Zeke could take himself back to the day Drifting Dreamer was launched. The original owner, whoever it was, had chosen that name for a reason. Maybe a couple had her built, or it could have been a family. What kinds of dreams did they have mind?
“Kinda musty in here,” Art said, wrinkling his nose. “I can hardly smell anything anymore, but I got a whiff of old-boat odor. Maybe a little mildew mixed in. But it’s probably just the smell of a boat that’s been closed up too long.”
His train of thought interrupted, Zeke reached up and opened the porthole above the sink to let in a little fresh air on the sunny day.
“I suppose we better get back to the store,” Zeke said. “We won’t solve this problem today. But who knows? Someone might come along with money to burn and make you an offer, Dad.”
“Yep, and we left Teddy alone,” Art said, “not that the little mutt gets himself into too much trouble. I’ll take him for a walk.”
Zeke smiled at that characterization of the dog that had maneuvered his way through the back door of their store one day, plunked himself down and never left. In his pocket, Zeke’s phone signaled a text. As he read the screen, he got an immediate hit in his gut. He glanced at his dad, who was opening and closing storage lockers. But now they had another problem to solve. And right away.
“Uh, Dad, we really do need to get back.” He left out any mention of the customer’s problem. Well, a Donovan Marine Supply problem now. If he said anything about his dad mixing up an order for one of their best customers, he’d just upset him.
Zeke quickly scanned the shabby cabin one more time. Drifting Dreamer would have to wait.
* * *
WHENEVER ANDI STERLING’S mood needed a boost, a little aimless wandering usually did the trick. But that Friday night, even meandering along Two Moon Bay’s streets, Andi found her state of mind darkening as daylight faded into dusk.
She’d been in Two Moon Bay only a few days, but already she’d learned her way around the picture-book town. Ironically, despite not having a permanent place to live for herself and her daughter, Brooke, the town was beginning to feel like home. That evening, though, she deliberately avoided the shops and restaurants downtown and instead kept close to the waterfront parks and businesses.
Andi drew her hand across her brow, damp from the humid evening air. Since it was much too warm to let her long hair hang loose down her back, she tucked the stray wisps into the twist she’d fixed at the nape of her neck. “Stay put,” she murmured, mocking a tone of authority.
Since she knew almost no one in town, she could ramble around unnoticed, almost as if she was hiding. And in a way she was. For now, she craved privacy, even anonymity. She couldn’t say why that was true, but maybe it was because she had so many loose ends in her life and didn’t want to try to explain them.
Crossing the block-long park, the aroma of brats and burgers cooking on grills caught her attention. Couples and families were having old-fashioned cookouts around the clusters of wooden picnic tables and benches. The pleasant scents carried over to the party-like atmosphere of the Two Moon Bay Marina, a hot spot in late June. The breeze carried the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter, and a few boats were motoring out of the protected yacht basin and into the bay for a late-evening sail.
As Andi approached the well-lit docks, she spotted the tour boat with the almost whimsical name, Lucy Bee. Brooke had been on a trip on that boat with her stepmom, Lark, last summer. It amused Andi that Brooke was way more familiar with Two Moon Bay than she was thanks to her dad—Andi’s ex—living there.
A loud cheer drew Andi’s attention to a deck party on a large yacht, where a big-screen TV showed a baseball game. But then her eye was also drawn to a small runabout tied at the dock, where two teenage boys sat across from each other, phones in hand, so engrossed in video games or texting they were oblivious to what was going on around them.
Couples, parents, kids. Everywhere Andi looked she saw people busy having fun. But a few men and women weren’t too preoccupied to raise their hands in a sociable wave as she passed by. She was all smiles as she returned the greeting and kept walking as if she had somewhere to be.
Soon, Andi left the well-lit marina behind and reached an empty stretch of grass she knew led to a pair of docks belonging to the marine supply store. She and Brooke had ventured this way a couple times over the last few days, either on foot or on their bikes. They were usually taking the long route to the park or the Bean Grinder, where she and Brooke—and apparently all of Two Moon Bay—found their favorite coffee drinks and other treats.
A wave of nostalgia gently washed over her. Only recently had she fully accepted that the days when Brooke could be distracted with trips to the park or luscious cookies were fast disappearing. At ten years old, Brooke was growing up and asking hard questions. Like when was her mother going to get another job, and where were they going to live in their new town? At the moment, Andi didn’t have answers. No matter how hard she tried to keep up a cheerful and optimistic attitude about their move to Two Moon Bay, Andi still had regrets—and doubts—and they couldn’t help but spill over onto Brooke.
At least once a day, Brooke pointed out that she had no friends in Two Moon Bay. Andi gave her pat reassurances that she’d make new friends at riding camp and, later, in her new school. Brooke had already spent many weekends with her dad, who’d moved from Green Bay to Two Moon Bay late last summer. Miles and his new wife, Lark, had moved into a lakefront home. Her ex’s remarriage and move became the chief catalyst for Andi’s decision to relocate. For one thing, it would be so much easier to keep their shared custody agreement working smoothly—as it had for years. Those long drives involved in taking Brooke back and forth to each other’s houses in towns an hour away had grown old fast. Moving closer made a lot of sense, especially because Andi no longer had a job to anchor her in one place.
Andi pushed aside her job worries. Finding a place to live was a much bigger challenge. And she needed a house or an apartment right now. She and Brooke were staying in a cottage Lark owned and had lived in with her son, Evan. It was cozy and homey, but it was available for only another week, because Lark and Miles were expecting guests and were putting them up in the cottage.
Away from the lights and the party atmosphere of the marina now, Andi kept walking across the grass, alone with her bundles of mixed feelings. She ought to be grateful she could stay in Lark’s cottage. Well, she was grateful. But as much as she liked her ex’s new wife, Andi was embarrassed she needed to accept Lark’s offer.
At the moment, her daughter was spending an exciting weekend in Chicago with her dad and Lark, and Evan, Brooke’s stepbrother. For Brooke, the high point was the plan to ride the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. She’d been talking about it for weeks.
Suddenly, the humidity on the hot evening seemed to trap her, and she brushed her hand across the back of her neck. The ground was soft under her feet as she slipped deeper into the darkness and approached the quiet docks. An isolated spot, it was peaceful and set apart from the marina, where people were always coming and going.
The docks belonging to Donovan Marine Supply were usually empty. She’d seen only one boat tied up there and it was gone by the time she and Brooke had passed by again on the way back to the cottage.
Tonight was different, though. Something had changed. Even in the dim light, she saw what looked like a large boat tied up with a row of fenders hanging from the rail to protect the hull from bumping against the wooden dock. The boat was closed up, with no light coming from inside. But even in the yellowish glow coming from the low light mounted at the end of the dock, Andi saw that the boat was amazing.
An amazing wreck.
The boat in front of her was unlike any yacht or runabout she’d seen at the Two Moon Bay docks—or anywhere else. This boat was a pile of ruined varnish and cracked or missing wood. From what she could see the boat was dying from neglect. Andi almost laughed out loud. Those were the exact words she’d used when she’d first seen the house she and Miles bought right after they were married. That house was such a wreck the cracks in the plaster had looked like roads and highways on a map. Someone had painted over the original oak woodwork, and the kitchen would have made a great exhibit in a Depression-era museum. But the previous owner’s estate had installed a new roof and repaired the foundation. Andi had instinctively known the house had strong bones, but badly needed a face-lift to restore its glory.
Staring at the boat, Andi had a feeling the yacht was a lot like her old house. For sure, the fixer-upper boat’s to-do list would be as long as the dock itself. What a huge undertaking. Then why was her heart beating a little faster? She immediately dismissed her own surprising reaction. Did she really want to clutch a scraper in her hand and get to work? As a matter of fact, yes, it was an appealing idea. She didn’t know a lot about large motor yachts, but something in her longed to brighten up this floating mass of wood.
Andi started when her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she guessed it would be Brooke and hurried to answer.
“Hi, Mom.”
Better than cheery, Brooke sounded excited.
“Well, hello. Are you enjoying yourself in the big city?” Her mood lifted at the sound of her daughter’s voice.
“We’re at Navy Pier eating fudge ice cream,” Brooke said. “We rode the Ferris wheel, and it was great. And we went to the aquarium today. You should see the sharks—and the dolphins.”
“Sounds like fun.” She walked away from the dock, but before she got too far, she pivoted and took another look at the boat. Nothing in the marina was as isolated as that lone yacht.
“Wait, Mom. Dad wants to talk to you a minute.”
“Okay, put him on,” Andi said, taking a few more steps away from the boat.
“Hey, Andi,” Miles said, “any news?”
“About a roof over my head, you mean? And Brooke’s.” Andi winced at the sarcastic tone coming out of her mouth. Where had it come from? Frustration? Misplaced resentment? Miles didn’t mean anything negative by the question.
“Oops, sorry, Miles,” she said quickly. “Don’t mind me. I’m mad at myself. Somehow, this move didn’t go at all the way I planned it.”
“It will work out. And like I told you, you can stay in the cottage another week or so, and then move back in when our guests leave.”
Andi knew exactly what was coming next. If she still hadn’t found a place to live, she and Brooke were welcome to stay with Miles and Lark. They had plenty of space, and Brooke had her own room fixed up exactly as she wanted it. She spent almost half her time in Miles’s house, anyway. Andi would be welcome to the guest room. It was a generous offer. Andi knew that. Just like she knew she couldn’t bring herself to stay there.
“We talked about that, and you know how I feel, Miles. It would be too odd for Brooke. She’s used to going between my house and your house. It’s been her life since she was a toddler. She adjusted well to being with you and Lark and Evan. But stay in your house? I don’t think so.”
“You wouldn’t be here for long. Only until things settle in for you in Two Moon Bay, Andi. It would only be for a week or two.”
“Look, I’ll get vacation rentals a week or two at a time, or we’ll stay in one of the residential hotels,” she said, annoyed by the turn of the conversation. “It’s not the best solution, but it’s better than being with Brooke in the same house with you and Lark and her son.” Such a nightmarish solution. Andi would do almost anything to avoid it.
“You make it sound like a punishment for something,” Miles said, uncharacteristic resentment seeping into his voice. “You’re telling me you’d rather be alone with Brooke in a hotel than with her in my house.”
“Yes, Miles, that’s precisely what I’m saying.” She paused. “Give me a minute to spell this out for you.” It was hard to gather her thoughts with the background noise coming from Miles’s phone. Between a loud blues band, a mix of voices and the wind producing a static sound, it was nearly impossible to hear him. She kicked her voice up a notch. “I’m on my way back to the cottage now. Can we talk later? I’d like you to understand.”
“Okay, I’ll call you in an hour or so.”
With the call ended, Andi retraced her steps back across the grass and through the marina and down a few blocks of the waterfront street. She was soon unlocking the front door to Lark’s cottage on Night Beach Road. She fixed herself a plate of cheese and crackers and made short work of what she decided was dinner. Then she poured herself a glass of merlot and sat in the window seat to wait for Miles’s call.
Andi barely knew Lark, but it was easy to picture Brooke’s stepmom raising Evan in this cottage, working at her desk in front of this large picture window with its view of the lake. It was still Lark’s office, except when she and Miles had company staying here, like now. Then she worked in her office in their new house just down the street.
Andi thought about all the reasons she believed moving to Two Moon Bay was good for Brooke. But the logical, sound reasons for making such a major change only explained about 90 percent of her rationale. Andi hadn’t confided to anyone about the other reasons that pushed her toward her decision. It was hunger, she thought. She was hungry for something different in her life. After years of successfully managing a large medical practice, she’d been a casualty of a merger with a larger medical group. Luckily, she was a saver so she wasn’t living hand-to-mouth. She’d also accepted a few temp assignments over the last eighteen months and that helped cover her expenses. She had the luxury of holding out for a good professional opportunity.
When she’d first started her job search, a couple of medical practices had come looking for her, even coaxing her to agree to interviews, but they made such lowball offers she’d turned them down flat. She was determined to think bigger, not smaller. Or, what was stopping her from changing fields altogether, maybe taking off in a new direction?
Deciding to move to Two Moon Bay had been bound up in that exciting notion of a fresh start. All that work to renovate her house increased its value and the profit from its sale bought her more time to figure out what she wanted. The sale happened much faster than she or the Realtor had anticipated. The offer was well above the asking price, but in order to take advantage of it, she’d agreed to a closing date that allowed her almost no time to find a permanent rental.
Andi sipped her wine and stared at the narrow reflection of the new moon breaking through the haze over the lake. Where had her logical mind gone? None of these short-term problems would matter if she was judging her situation rationally. These were setbacks, minor at that, but they brought back long buried memories of other times she’d just as soon forget.
Like the air, the lake was still tonight. That sad old boat she’d seen was probably barely moving at the dock.
Odd that she would think of that boat. But there was something about it. But what?
Miles’s call broke into her thoughts.
“So?” he asked.
“So,” she said back, “here it is. You know I agreed to get out of the house in Green Bay without enough time to organize the move or find a rental, let alone buy a new place. I feel bad about that. Here I am, with my reputation as a hotshot manager, but I mismanaged this entire situation.”
“But I keep trying to tell you it’s okay,” he said with an impatient sigh. “We all know it’s temporary. We have room for you. This is about you, Andi, not me...or anyone else.”
Lark. He means it’s not about her. But Andi knew that. Using her thumb and index finger, she rubbed her forehead as if that action could produce the words that would help him understand. “I know this sounds overblown, but it feels chaotic, Miles,” she finally said. “On some level, not having a job or a house reminds me of the days after our divorce when I made so many mistakes.”
She was talking in code, as if not spelling it out would soften the blow. Who was she kidding? The blow was landing on her, not Miles. “I married Roger so fast, and it was such a disaster. The next year was a mess. You were the one who kept life stable for Brooke.”
“Oh, Andi, that was years ago,” Miles said softly. “I can’t believe you’re linking that old mistake with this situation. They’re entirely different. Anyone would have jumped at the offer you got for the house and figured out how to meet the terms later.”
Andi laughed. “You’re right, logically, that is. I guess this is stress talking. And Brooke was crabby about packing up so fast. That’s what brings up the same old feelings that I failed her—again. But I’d rather we move into a residential hotel until I find something. Better than having her mom staying with her dad and his new wife. A woman her dad knew long before he met her mom. It’s complicated, Miles.” Unintentionally, the volume of her voice had increased so she was almost hollering at him. “Sorry, Miles, I’m not mad at you.”
“I get it, but you’re being too hard on yourself. I’ve never criticized you as a mom. Never.”
Now he was getting mad. Another unintended consequence of the quandary she’d created.
“And one more thing. You’re taking Brooke’s bad moods way too seriously,” Miles said, his voice normal again. “Change is hard.”
Andi let out a long, weary sigh. “That’s true. But her riding camp starts soon. I’m hoping being around horses will improve her attitude.”
With a laugh in his voice, Miles said, “She’s told Evan all about her camp in great detail. That kid is so patient, and he’s only fourteen.”
“It’s worked out well for you. The move, I mean, and you and Lark.”
“Yes.” He paused. “I’m not trying to hurt you with this offer of a room in our house. Neither is Lark.”
His gentle tone triggered the growing fullness behind her eyes, but she wasn’t ready to let down her emotional barrier, not even with Miles. “True enough. But try to understand what’s behind my thinking. You and I get along well, and all that, and as much as I rooted for you and Lark, I simply can’t be under the same roof with you two.” She snickered. “That was blunt enough, I hope.”
“Handle it your way,” Miles said matter-of-factly. “I won’t bring it up again.”
She felt lighter. A burden was lifted, and suddenly a hotel suite didn’t seem so bad. She was tempted to tell Miles about other things going on with her, but she held back. They were friendly, but he wasn’t an intimate friend. Besides, she didn’t even know what was going on inside her, or why she was stirred up about change.
They ended the call and Andi immediately searched for local hotels that offered the kind of room she and Brooke would need. Of course, she thought, when the Sleepy Moon Inn came up. She’d seen it on the edge of downtown, only a few blocks away. She searched the site for vacancies, and when the information came up, she made a reservation and breathed a little easier.
Thinking about her exchange with Miles, she realized it was a good thing she hadn’t spontaneously confided her nagging wish for something different, a new direction. Wow. Those were the words she’d used years ago when she’d foolishly told him she wanted a divorce, claiming marriage—to anyone—wasn’t right for her and she needed another path.
Andi shivered inside, thinking of how ridiculous that sounded to her now.
Enough. Look ahead, not back. Her personal motto, particularly after her job ended.
Andi slipped out of her jeans and tank top and pulled her sleep shirt over her head. Going through her nightly routine helped put a stop to the useless journey into the worst part of her past. As she smoothed moisturizer across her cheeks, she struggled to recapture her excitement over the decision to move to Two Moon Bay. But the move itself was only one part of it.
She felt her old patterns shifting. Maybe it was because Brooke was growing up and needed her less. In any case, the changes weren’t limited to the mundane stuff, like finding an apartment or a predictable, if dull job in the same field. Except for a couple of huge mistakes, each involving a man, she’d lived cautiously, maybe too much so. She was always guarding against throwing her life—and Brooke’s—into disarray. Now she wanted more.
Andi fluffed the pillow and turned on her side. Closing her eyes, she decided that if she ended up in the hotel suite, she’d turn it into an adventure for herself and Brooke. She’d convince Brooke it was like camping out but without the bugs. Whoever built that run-down old boat she’d seen earlier must have wanted something out of the ordinary. So why shouldn’t she?
CHAPTER TWO (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
ZEKE STOOD BEHIND the counter and packed small orders, but kept one eye on his dad going through the routine of leashing Teddy and taking him out for a walk around the block. As always, Art opened the front door, then turned around and said, “Exercise for man and beast.”
“That’s right, Dad,” Zeke responded, as if on autopilot. Talk about a rut. Same walk, same quip every morning.
When the door closed behind the man and the beast, Zeke counted on fifteen minutes to catch up after yesterday’s glitch. He’d put over one hundred miles on his truck driving to exchange orders addressed to the wrong customers so that each package got to the right person. Fortunately, the people involved had done business with Donovan Marine Supply for years. Don’t worry, they’d said. They understood. But how could they? Zeke sometimes had trouble understanding what was happening to his dad.
Correcting these mistakes not only took time, but it also meant leaving Dad alone in the shop. Now, before he got too deep into handling the orders that had come in online overnight, Zeke hurried to the section his dad has stocked the day before. Familiar dread settled in his chest as he prepared himself to double-check the pricing and placement, and, if necessary, fix mistakes.
Crouching to look at the cost of the existing stock of various sizes of nylon line, Zeke matched them against the pricing on the new order. He let all the air out of his lungs and his breathing returned to normal. But that didn’t clear his conscience. No matter how well he prepared himself, he couldn’t fight off little stabs of guilt every time he did precisely what his dad had accused him of—going behind him to check his work.
Maybe he wouldn’t feel like such a sneak if his dad’s memory lapses, or more typically, loss of focus, occurred every day or even every week. But they didn’t. Most of the time, his dad’s work lived up to the standards their customers expected from Art Donovan, and that Art expected of Zeke. But even occasional glitches cost them money—and goodwill—all the same.
Zeke checked the last of the new stock of stainless deck hardware. Satisfied it was in good shape and priced correctly, he went back to orders on the computer.
Zeke’s mood lifted when he saw the orders for two anchor packages—anchor, chain and line. Not bad. They hadn’t even opened the door yet and they already had a substantial sale scheduled for customer pickup later that day. He moved on to the next order, this one for paint and varnish. That made him think of Drifting Dreamer. As he’d gone to sleep last night, the old yacht hung out in his thoughts. What had happened that turned such a classic boat into a wreck? One thing was sure—if they decided to sell fast and get it off their hands, the new owner was going to need a whole lot of both paint and varnish.
Or maybe he’d take on the job of giving that yacht a new life and recover the costs in the sale price. It was an appealing idea Zeke made himself shake off. He barely had time for the occasional building restoration job that came his way. Where would he find time to restore an old boat? He shouldn’t go down this road, anyway—the one where he saw the boat like she was a person with a brain and a heart and whose glory days were behind her.
Zeke heard the back screen-door hinges squeak, the signal his dad and Teddy were back.
“Hey, Zeke, there’s a lady down by the boat,” Art said, coming around the corner to the counter. “You know, that old yacht from yesterday.”
“Drifting Dreamer,Dad,” he said drily.“She’s the only boat we own.” Was there more to the story? “Uh, did she have a question or want something?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her. We have too much to do around here to stop and chat to a stranger. Even a good-looking one. The gal has some long hair.” Art let go of the leash and in a flash, Teddy turned and made a beeline for the back door.
“There goes the dog.” Zeke bit his tongue before he could snap at his dad, who hadn’t hooked the latch on the door to keep Teddy inside. “I’ll go get him.”
Teddy was out the door and headed for the dock, but Zeke managed to grab the leash off the grass and slow him down. “Hey, buddy, you can’t go out by yourself.” The dog pulled on the leash and led Zeke straight for the woman standing on the dock looking at the boat. He saw what his dad meant. Her dark hair fell more than halfway down her back.
“Okay, Teddy, we’ll stay out a little longer.” He let Teddy take him to the woman, who was tall and slender, and wore jeans and a red T-shirt. When she saw him coming, she lifted her sunglasses and perched them on her head. In her other hand, she held a giant-size Bean Grinder to-go cup.
“Good morning,” she called out, smiling. “I suppose I’m trespassing.”
He was tongue-tied. By a pretty smile and long legs. He raised his hand in protest. “Probably so, but we won’t call the sheriff, at least not yet.”
“I see. I have to prove myself first.” She held up the cup. “I’m armed only with the Bean Grinder’s morning mix.”
“In that case, we’ll...” Zeke watched Teddy sniffing the woman’s sneakers. “I was going to say we’ll call off the dogs, but, too late.”
She reached down and scratched Teddy behind his ears. “No problem. I’m not afraid of a curious dog. I was out walking last night and saw this boat, but it was dark so I couldn’t see much. Something made me walk over this morning to get a better look.”
“Well, you’re only our second visitor since the boat arrived yesterday morning.” He explained that Nelson White, the owner of the marina and boatyard next door, had also wandered down to see the new arrival. Zeke nodded to the boat. “Nelson probably thinks the Dreamer is an eyesore bringing down the neighborhood.”
Zeke pulled on Teddy’s leash to stop him from circling the visitor and wrapping the leash around her legs. “What do you think?” Why had he asked that? Just to keep her from walking away?
“Right now, I’m thinking your dog is using his nose to learn all about me and where I’ve been this morning.” Her smile grew bigger as she stared at Teddy.
“That’s no doubt true.” Zeke eagerly grabbed the chance to play along. He hadn’t had this much conversation with a stranger—a female stranger—in a long time. Well, except for customers. What else had he been missing? “His name is Teddy, by the way.”
“Theodore Donovan, I presume,” she said, deadpan, as she pointed to their giant sign mounted high enough on the building to be visible from the water. “Hmm, sounds like he should run for office.”
Zeke laughed from deep in his chest. “We never got as far as Theodore. He’s plain ol’ black-and-brown Teddy. And now he has a last name. We won’t tell him, or he’ll get a big head.”
She narrowed her eyes in amusement. “If Teddy is like most dogs I know, he’s probably spoiled rotten and already has a big head.”
Her dark blue eyes glanced down at Teddy and then to the side to take in Drifting Dreamer. But, he noted, she now seemed to be studying him. “I’m Zeke, and as it happens, my real last name is Donovan.”
He offered his free hand and she switched her coffee cup so she could grasp it. “I’m Andi Sterling. And I’m new in town.”
“I figured that out,” Zeke said. Her soft hand, extra warm from the coffee cup, gripped his.
“How so?”
No good reason, he thought, but that was no answer at all. “Because you don’t look familiar. Sometimes I think I’ve met most everyone around here at least once.”
“Well, now you know me, too. I’ve only been in Two Moon Bay for a few days.” Suddenly, her expression changed from lighthearted to serious.
“Were you curious about the boat?” He gestured to the stern. “Drifting Dreamer. The name mostly wore off with the other paint.” The hull once had been glossy black with the name painted on in bronze gold.
“You own the boat?” she asked, not looking at him but at the yacht.
“We do.” Seeing it through her eyes, he quickly added, “To make a long story short, we inherited it. Uh, as is.” That should explain its sorry state.
She turned her head to look directly at him. “Are you and your wife planning to keep it...her?”
Zeke waved her off. “Oh, no, I’m not married. I should have explained. My dad and I own the boat. Well, not exactly. It really belongs to him.” Zeke shook his head, frustrated by the way he tripped over his words, sounding like a goofy teenager. “If you can believe it, a guy who owed Dad money left it to him in his will. We haven’t decided what to do with it, but the guy settled, sort of, a twenty-year-old debt.”
“Twenty years? Wow. That’s an incredible story.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and took a sip of her coffee, showing no sign she was ready to leave.
Maybe the boat really did intrigue her. “Uh, would you like to go aboard and take a look inside?”
The bright smile was back. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” Her blue eyes flashed flirtatiously. “Curiosity is killing me.”
“Sorry, I’m just sort of shocked.”
She exaggerated a look of wide-eyed innocence. “You mean because the boat doesn’t look so good?”
Another laugh rose from deep inside. “No kidding.”
“Okay, confession time.” She gestured to the boat. “I don’t know the first thing about boats. But I’ve restored a house over a century old and badly maintained for at least thirty of those one-hundred-plus years. I know very well how old, neglected things can be brought back.”
She’d restored an old house? Hmm...intriguing. “Old and neglected. That about sums it up.” He stared at Drifting Dreamer for a few seconds. “You go on aboard. I’ll go get the key to open her up.”
She nodded and, after only a couple of seconds of hesitation, climbed from the dock to the deck.
Taking the dog with him, Zeke hurried back inside the store, and found his dad sealing up a carton. As he unhooked Teddy’s leash, he eyed the box with suspicion, memories of fixing yesterday’s order mix-up intruding into his otherwise pleasant thoughts. He’d have a look at the cartons later before they had a chance to go out. He opened the top desk drawer in the office and grabbed the keys. “Hey, Dad, the woman with the long hair? Her name is Andi and she’s curious about Drifting Dreamer. I thought I’d show her around.”
“That so? Maybe she wants to buy it?”
Zeke frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that, but she said she restored an old house. So, who knows? Maybe she won’t be able to resist the challenge.”
Art looked over his bifocals and frowned. “Don’t be long, son. We’ve got orders to fill.”
“Got it, Dad.” Zeke told Teddy to stay and let the screen door close. Teddy immediately started whining and Zeke stopped. “Andi’s right, buddy, you are spoiled.” Relenting, as Teddy surely knew he would, he said, “You stay close by. No running off.”
Teddy trotted to the boat, beating Zeke there. He wasted no time jumping from the dock to the deck.
“I bet Mr. Theodore follows you everywhere,” Andi joked.
“More or less,” Zeke said. “I think of him more as my dad’s dog, but we’re both responsible for keeping the little stray.”
“The dog apparently has good instincts.” She flashed a beaming smile that once again showed her pretty white teeth.
He opened the padlock to the cabin doors and went down the wooden companionway into the saloon, or what he thought of as the main cabin. Andi followed close behind.
“What do you think? First...no, second impressions.” He was aware that being aboard Drifting Dreamer wouldn’t do much to alter an initial impression. It would probably only make reality hit home harder.
“I think this boat has a past,” she said, following him into the center main saloon, “and I’d sure like to know what it is. Simple curiosity, I guess.”
A past? Had she read his mind? That question had turned over and over in his mind last night. It had kept him wide-awake and thinking hard. From the moment he’d secured the dock lines, he’d wondered what this boat had been up to during her better days. It was a mystery he wanted to solve.
“I get it. I’ve been asking myself that, too. Unfortunately, we know very little, except what the spec sheet told us. She was built in 1939 in Duluth at the Metzger Boat Works. Pretty famous builders, those Metzgers. The listed owner is C. Peterson. We think the boat has been in the Great Lakes since her launch, but we can’t say for sure. Somehow, she ended up in the hands of Terrance Smyth—he’s the guy who owed my dad money.”
Andi gestured around the all-mahogany interior. “Someone named her Drifting Dreamer for a reason.”
He’d thought of that, too. “Not that long ago, someone bought the diesel engine and new pumps and other gear, including a propane stove, so that person must have intended to do something with her. The galley is ready to go. And the boat is seaworthy. Made it up here from Kenosha, anyway.”
“Maybe the plan was to get her running and then fix her up,” Andi said. “Kind of like the way we lived in the house while I worked on it.”
We?Who did that include?
“I’m guessing the deterioration and damage started decades ago.”
Andi wrinkled her nose as she continued looking around.
“The stale smell of a closed-up boat.” He led the way to the large wheelhouse, where the engine controls, the compass set in its bronze housing, the old-fashioned depth sounder and the newer radar were in place and ready to go.
“His new frontier,” Zeke said, pointing to Teddy, who’d wasted no time in sniffing the corners and wagging his tail in excitement. “Now that the dog has discovered the boat has an inside, he’ll want to make it part of his regular rounds.”
They went back into the main cabin and she continued studying the boat with a dreamy look in her big, dark blue eyes.
“Some people still call these areas of a boat the saloon,” he said, standing in the middle of what was the boat’s equivalent of a combination kitchen-dining area and living room. “Although that term only applies to high-end yachts. So maybe main cabin is more like it.” He noted that she was deep in thought, her full lips pursed in concentration.
“This certainly was a high-end yacht,” Andi said. “You could seat eight or ten people around the table.” She moved inside the largest stateroom. “And this is almost like a regular bedroom.”
“So is the other cabin in the bow. It has two single bunks,” Zeke said. “I was surprised to find bunk cushions still packed in the canvas covers they were delivered in.”
“Whoever had this boat built must have had quite a vision,” she said, running her hand down the once smooth wood of the hanging locker. She tugged on the handle of one of the double doors and it broke free. “This is more like an antique armoire than an ordinary closet. It’s as big as some of the closets I’ve seen in older houses. All this mahogany in a house would boost the price a notch or two.”
Only yesterday, he’d seen mostly the boat’s decay, but now, watching her study the fixtures, assessing everything, possibilities started clicking through his brain. He knew a thing or two about restoring buildings, and that’s what fixing up this boat would be about. Restoration. Drifting Dreamer could be more than presentable. She could be a classic gem again.
“You’re right about the quality of workmanship, and about vision, too. I wish we had better records. I know one thing for certain. No one builds this kind of yacht on a whim—or on a shoestring. And back in the hard times of the 1930s, any boat builder would have been happy for the business.”
Andi nodded in agreement. “My grandpa talked endlessly about the Depression. Not much call for luxury yachts, I imagine, except for the very rich and very lucky. But Drifting Dreamer is a fantastic name.” Again, Andi ran her hand across the wood, this time one of the bulkheads. “Lots of black blotches in the wood under the peeling finish.”
Suddenly self-conscious about staring at her long, graceful fingers in constant motion, he cleared his throat. “We haven’t chewed over all the options yet, but my dad and I have to figure out what to do with her. We could sell off fixtures and bronze fittings. I know a woman who buys salvaged wood to make one-of-a-kind mirrors and picture frames. That would bring some money.”
Andi’s mouth dropped open. Pointing to the floor, she said, “You mean you’d dismantle this boat?”
Whoa, what a reaction. But it was one solution and he’d defend it. “Well, yes, scrapping her is one option. We have to be realistic. The pieces could be way more valuable than the whole boat intact.”
“Unbelievable.” Andi shook her head and pursed her lips in disgust.
She disapproved? This woman who didn’t know the first thing about him? He shouldn’t care, but he did. “Uh, that was our first thought. But then we figured since the hull seems sound there may be some life in her yet.”
Andi nodded. “I’ll bet there is.”
Zeke decided to throw out another option. “We could also sell her as is.” What if she was an interested buyer? He shouldn’t immediately assume she couldn’t or wouldn’t buy a yacht. Even a derelict boat. What did he know about her? He glanced at the teak cabin floor, dried out and gray, but still sturdy. “My dad would probably like that plan better.”
Silence. At the mention of his dad, his words took on an unexpected sadness and hung in the air. Meanwhile Teddy’s nails clicked on the floor as he scurried across the cabin and broke the silence. Zeke heard himself breathe.
“I have a question.” She abruptly faced him full-on. “What would you charge to rent this yacht to someone? For the summer, I mean.”
“Rent? You mean to someone who wanted to live on Drifting Dreamer?”
She extended her hand and flashed an isn’t-that-obvious? look. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
What was with the sharp tone? He supposed he’d annoyed her by not taking her question seriously, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Why do you ask?”
Leaning to the side, her gaze traveled up and down the largest cabin, taking it all in. “The essentials are here, Zeke. The stove has barely been used. The staterooms—cabins—could use a good cleanup.” Casting a pointed look his way, she rolled her eyes. “They clearly need more than that, but you know what I mean. People don’t build a fifty-foot boat they can’t live on for extended periods of time. As long as the plumbing and electrical systems work, she could be made livable in short order.”
Zeke leaned his weight against a bulkhead and crossed one foot over the other. Why would she ever consider moving aboard a boat that needed so much work? Or on a boat at all? Even one in tiptop shape. On the other hand, she’d said she restored an old house. At one time, restoration work was the focus of his life. That thought allowed him a little insight, maybe a hint into what made her tick. Behind those mysterious eyes. And the pretty smile. She’d sparked his curiosity before she’d spoken even one word.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Call me crazy, but what would prompt you to want to live on Drifting Dreamer?”
She stared at the floor. “It’s not so complicated, Zeke. I need a place to live.” She raised her head to look him in the eye. “Correction. My ten-year-old daughter and I need a place to live for the summer, and then when the tourist season is over, I’m sure I’ll be able to find a permanent place here in town. Right now, summer rentals are scarce in Two Moon Bay, and we’d end up moving every couple of weeks.”
A ten-year-old. A single mom and her daughter living on the boat? He was caught completely off guard. “Where are you staying now?”
She lifted her palms and let her head drop back. “I might have known you’d ask...”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Wait...why was he apologizing for asking a question anyone would?
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m just teasing. Of course you’d want to know.” She took her sunglasses off the top of her head and rearranged the white headband that held her hair off her face. “It’s complicated. At the moment, and for the next few days, I’m staying—are you ready for this?—at my ex-husband’s new wife’s cottage on Night Beach Road.”
“Ex-husband’s new wife’s cottage.” He pointed his finger downward with each word as if connecting the dots.
“We share custody of our daughter, Brooke, and at the moment, she’s in Chicago with her dad and Lark—that’s his new wife.” She grinned. “Newish wife.”
“Brooke? Lark?” he blurted. “Then Miles is your ex-husband?”
The muscles in her face relaxed, showing visible relief. “Why, yes. Do you know him—them?”
Zeke laughed. “Lark and Miles are friends of Dawn Larsen and Jerrod Waters, the guy who runs the diving trips out of the marina—they’re friends of mine. He has the tour boat, too. And I’ve met your little girl a couple of times.”
“Do you mean Lucy Bee? It’s docked at the marina?”
He nodded. “Matter of fact, Dawn and Jerrod have been married less than a year.”
“And Miles was at their wedding,” Andi said, chuckling. “Now I’m putting all the pieces together. Jerrod has a little girl, Carrie. Brooke has mentioned her.”
“Right.” Zeke led the way back to the deck. Teddy followed Andi and immediately flopped in a sunny corner and curled up, as if tuckered out from his tough morning of sniffing and endearing himself to his new friend.
“The dog has apparently heard all this before,” Andi quipped.
“Right. He knows most of the players in our conversation, so it’s very ho-hum to the family mutt.” He hadn’t joked around this much in a long time.
Way too long.
“For a minute there, I forgot that, of course, being on the waterfront you’d know Jerrod and Dawn and the rest of the crowd.”
Zeke pointed down the waterfront to Nelson’s marina, where Jerrod’s boats were tied up at the main dock. “Jerrod keeps his boats at the marina all summer. I got to know Miles at a couple of events at the yacht club.”
He turned the other way and pointed toward the glass-and-wood building down the shore. “That’s the yacht club, but it’s more than that now. They plan to have music on some weekends and they rent it out for weddings and parties.”
Andi absently looked beyond him to the water, as if suddenly distracted. “I’ve walked down that way a couple of times since I’ve been in town. Brooke has told me lots of stories about the people you mentioned.”
Zeke told Andi about what was supposed to have been a send-off party for Jerrod and his crew at the end of the season. “They were heading back south for the winter. But Jerrod and Carrie didn’t leave. Asking Dawn to marry him led to a big change of plans for Jerrod and his crew.”
Her laugh sounded a little forced when she said, “Such a chummy place. Brooke loves being here with her dad.”
Zeke couldn’t tell if her tone was wistful or resentful. Not an area he’d probe, in any case.
“We had to limit the time Brooke spent with him last year because of the distance. She was here for weekends, except when he was away doing one of his talks. But Miles and I both ate up way too much time on the road shuttling her back and forth.”
“And now you’ve moved here.” Given her connection to people he knew, Zeke was even more curious about her.
She ran her hand down the back of her head, subtly fidgeting with her hair. “Yes, I moved, but for various reasons, I ended up leaving in kind of a rush. Brooke and I have been here a week.”
Zeke listened as she added a few details about hunting for a new job, too.
“So, I got my big idea about living on your boat because I can’t stay at the cottage. Miles and Lark will have visitors from out of town staying there soon.”
In a shot, her expression had gone from lively to troubled. She idly patted the back of a deck chair. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I know this was kind of a wild idea.” She walked past him and stepped off the boat.
Now she was running off? “Wait a second, Andi. Where are you going?”
She put her sunglasses back on, but before her eyes disappeared behind them, he saw them change again. Now she looked upset, even sad. “I’ve taken up too much of your time.”
“Aren’t you going to wait for my answer?” Zeke had numbers running through his head, but they seemed meaningless. He’d never been a landlord before. If she wanted to live on the boat, what was to stop him from letting her? Well, given some time to think about it, he could probably come up with all kinds of good reasons why it was a bad idea. But he didn’t care. He and his dad could use a little life around the store.
“Answer?” Her sunglasses went back to the top of her head. She squinted in the bright sunlight.
“You asked what I’d charge.”
“Are you serious?”
“I was about to ask you that.” Some banter saved him from admitting he had no idea what kind of deal to make.
She folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head. “I was...am. But how do I know you won’t start salvaging all the valuable parts out from under me?”
He choked back a laugh at the teasing question. He didn’t want to scrap the boat, especially a finely built yacht like this one. “Seems the longer I’m on the boat, the more I like her. I bet she cleans up nice.”
“I’ve refinished my share of woodwork,” she said with a shrug. “It’s been a while, but I liked it. Loved it, actually. It was so satisfying to see the ugly transformed to beautiful again.”
She might be a stranger, but he understood a little about her already. Zeke pointed to the store. “As it happens, I have the tools and supplies you’d need to take on that job.”
“I just bet you do.” She patted a bronze fitting at the base of the canopy. “I’ll bet you have what I’d need to make this tarnished old bronze gleam in the sunshine.”
“Donovan Marine Supply at your service.”
She gave him a long look and stepped back aboard the boat. The air vibrated around him, like a low buzz. What? Zeke didn’t even believe in that sort of thing. Electricity in the air and all that. Except in a real thunderstorm. Or did he? As of this minute, maybe it wasn’t so impossible for the air to feel charged.
He cleared his throat to help him refocus. “We have power on the dock,” he said to bring himself back to practicalities, “so you wouldn’t have to run the engine to keep the refrigerator and lights on. And as you saw, the boat has a separate shower.”
She flashed an excited smile. “It’s got everything.”
“You can use the washing machines in the mudroom in the back of the store. The second floor is like an oversize storage shed now, but it used be an apartment. I grew up in that place above the store. My dad and I live in a house down the street.”
“Oh, so you live with your dad?”
“No, my dad lives with me.” He played that statement back in his mind, knowing how annoyed he’d sounded.
Her face registered frank surprise “Sorry...I guess.”
Zeke needed to explain, but that was complicated. Instead he waved her off. “Don’t mind me. Let’s get on with the arrangements.” Ideas were coming fast now. “How about a barter deal? You and Brooke live aboard Drifting Dreamer for the summer. You’ll make a start at getting the boat back in shape—cosmetically, anyway. I’ll keep you in supplies.” Grinning, he added, “And plenty of running water from Nelson’s dock.”
“You mean we could live here for free?”
“Of course, for free.” He paused. “Really? You thought I’d charge you?” He brushed his hand across peeling varnish on the cabin. “And I’ll certainly pay you for the hours you put in.”
“Pay me?”
“Well, yes. This is a big undertaking.” A new question came up. “I didn’t think to ask. Do you have a job now?”
“Nope. I thought I might look for something part-time. Maybe see if one of the shops needed extra help for the tourist season. Mostly, I’m concentrating on getting set up here in Two Moon Bay and making sure Brooke is adjusting and all that. But I’ll keep sending my résumé out as well, I suppose. The thing is...”
She stopped talking and with her forehead knitted in a deep frown, she stared off into space. He didn’t know how to finish her sentence, but apparently, neither did she. But this woman he barely knew was fired up to make a change. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind specifically, but somehow, he understood.
The sound of his cell phone interrupted his train of thought. He looked at the screen. His dad. Not a crisis, just a customer with questions. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”
She glanced at him with a faraway look in her eyes, as if the phone had startled her out of her private thoughts. “I won’t.”
He hurried off the boat, but Teddy stayed curled up out in the sun on the deck. Zeke smiled. That dog had found his second home. As he opened the door to the shop, he was still in a daze. From the looks of things, it wasn’t going to be the same old kind of summer.
* * *
THE LIST-MAKER SIDE of Andi was fully engaged. Almost too much so. Jobs swirled through her head looking for a place to land on her priority list, starting with happily canceling the reservation at the Sleepy Moon Inn. Minor decisions about what to pack and move aboard, and what to stash away in storage, were mixed up with the details of the gigantic job of making Drifting Dreamer livable in the next couple of days.
Ready to jump out of her skin, both excited and nervous, she warded off the questions coming from inside her about the wisdom of her decision. How could she explain the impulse to dive into a job like this? Until this surprise had come along this morning, she’d all but forgotten the buzz and tingle in her body that an unexpected stroke of luck could bring. It filled her with so much energy she had to do something to burn it off.
After downing half a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, Andi put her bike in the rack on the back of her car and drove south down Night Beach Road until it curved and merged with the county road that led to the beach at Sibley State Park, only a quarter mile away. The line of cars on the side road provided plenty of company on the perfect seventy-degree day. She walked her bike out of the parking lot and started pedaling at the start of the dirt bike path that wound through several miles of dense forest.
She inhaled deeply, nearly euphoric from the damp earthy scents filling her nostrils that were the opposite of the stale odor that had permeated the boat. Drifting Dreamer may have been closed up for decades. As Andi slowed her pace, her body buzzed from exertion, but she was also filled with the energy of hope. In her small way, she’d bring Drifting Dreamer to life, starting with airing the boat to banish the stale smell. She’d fling open the portholes. Right. She smiled at the image of herself flinging bronze portholes wherever. But she’d certainly open them as wide as she could. Her mind jumped ahead to the process of restoring the wood, the fixtures—everything. Like Zeke had said, he had the tools she’d need for each job.
Zeke. Now he was a puzzle. An appealing, attractive puzzle. And none of her business. But she couldn’t deny the unfamiliar feelings he’d brought up. The sense of fun, teasing, joking about Teddy. She’d had trouble keeping her eyes off of him. Even at five-ten, she’d had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye—light brown and very warm eyes. His full head of unruly dark blond hair suited him, somehow matched his casual jeans and the T-shirt with the store’s logo on it.
Their time together that morning had been interrupted by a call on his cell from his dad and Zeke has asked her to wait while he hurried off to help deal with a customer. When he’d come back, he’d brought an outdoor electrical cord and tested the interior lights and the fridge. They’d started a list of mundane items, like light bulbs and ice trays. Together, they’d motored to Nelson’s fuel dock and flushed the water tanks,and Zeke showed her how to fill them. He’d checked all of the equipment on the boat against the spec sheet. A couple of exhilarating hours flew by, not only because she saw proof that Drifting Dreamer would be a fun temporary home, but, with her imagination clicking along, she also saw the yacht’s potential to make a comeback. Kind of like an old band getting back together to relive the glory days. Grinning at her comparison, she realized she was eager to dive into the work.
Watching Zeke, listening to him explain the controls on the hot water heater, she’d wondered about his other work. Restoration, he’d said. That piqued her interest. And why had he drifted away from it? Her word, not his.
After about five miles on the deserted dirt path, the woods ended and the paved path set back from the beach started. The cooler air now carried the slightly fishy scent of the lake and the beach. She shared the trail with walkers and adults and kids zipping along on Rollerblades. A few brave souls, mostly kids, had waded into the cold water and squealed as they bounced up and down to keep warm. She watched a couple of adults scurry back to the warm sand.
Andi could have shouted with joy herself. She’d taken on a big job, but for a couple of months, she’d wake up every day and do something that didn’t involve a medical file, test result, patient inquiry, or insurance paper. Never had she imagined living on a motor yacht—in any condition.
By the time she stopped at a turnout to rest her legs before finishing the loop back to the parking lot, she’d burned off not only the nervous energy, but also any lingering self-doubt, too. Instead, she was filled with overwhelming confidence that she’d done the right thing. Rather than struggling to create a normal life for Brooke from a hotel suite, the summer with her little girl stretched long and sweet on the water.
From the minute she’d met Zeke, she was as curious about his dad as she was about him. For one thing, why had Zeke snapped at her over her question about living with his father? His only prickly moment. None of her business, of course, but Zeke had learned about Brooke and Miles. She might have known he’d already met them both, especially since Miles and Lark were part of the waterfront community in Two Moon Bay.
Did Zeke need to know about her second ex-husband? Of course not. Why had she even thought of it? No matter how much time had passed, whenever Roger came to mind, a heavy sensation settled into every muscle in her body. Those memories still had the power to make her feel bad about herself.
Andi walked her bike to an empty picnic table in the turnout and pulled her tablet out of her backpack. A few minutes later, she had a new document with to-do lists side by side on her screen, each with items under the headings Before and After, in reference to the move. It took no time at all to create a couple of long lists.
Done with her lists for the time being, Andi texted Miles, telling him she’d found a place. She added, Details later, want to surprise Brooke.
And what a fun surprise it was.
And mysterious, she thought, as she got on her bike and began pedaling back to the parking lot. But if Drifting Dreamer was a classic design and had been built in a well-known boatyard, there would have to be some record of her somewhere. A boat registry? Or boatyard records? It couldn’t hurt to do a little online research.
* * *
IT WAS LATE that night before Zeke had a chance to do even a quick search. And it was a fluke that a notice in a Duluth newspaper led to the first mention of the boat that was bobbing in the breeze at his dock. It seemed that someone named Charles Peterson had thrown a launch party in September of 1939 for Drifting Dreamer. He must not have had much time to use it that late in the year, not up in Lake Superior.
Zeke’s first thought was how many Charles Petersons probably lived in Minnesota in the 1930s.
“Well, we have one clue, Teddy,” Zeke said to the dog snoozing at his feet. “Are you impressed?” The dog opened one eye. Zeke laughed. He bet Andi would find this news quite intriguing. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
He sat back in the chair, staring at the man in the photo standing on the dock next to his boat. Now, almost eighty years later, a woman he didn’t know was moving onto a boat he’d never heard of forty-eight hours ago. It made him wonder what would happen next.
CHAPTER THREE (#u3e785a17-5d53-5827-b5f2-6a7a86340a67)
“JUST TELL ME where we’re going. Why can’t you let me in on your big secret?” Brooke asked in a crabby tone.
Andi was more than a little crabby herself. She frowned at her pouty little girl. “You’d think I was punishing you. I told you, this is a surprise.”
Andi shook her head. A surprise that showed every sign of landing with a thud. The rain had started in the middle of the night. It had let up a little in the last hour or so, but not much. It wasn’t the rain that bothered her. She’d put a couple of umbrellas in the car and they had rain jackets, although Brooke’s barely fit anymore. Andi had already added buying her a new one to her expanding list of things to do.
Brooke squirmed under her seat belt. “I wish my riding camp was starting today.”
“I know you do, sweetie, but it’s not much longer. Right after the Fourth of July. Then you’ll get to ride horses every day.”
When had Brooke started talking about horses and longing for one of her own? Maybe five years ago. She’d already named her horse-to-be. Magic was the first name she picked, and Magic it had stayed. Andi and Miles had agreed to wait until she was twelve before letting her have a horse of her own. By then she’d be old enough to take on the responsibilities of owning a horse, and could earn money doing chores to help pay the boarding fees at one of the nearby stables. Two more years.
“Just think, by the first day of your camp, we’ll be settled in our new place.”
“Did you find us a house like Dad’s?”
Andi shook her head. “Nope.” Naturally, Brooke would compare everything to Miles’s huge new house.
“Then it must be a cottage like Lark’s,” Brooke said confidently.
Keeping the spirit of surprise and intrigue going, Andi shook her head again.
“I know, I know,” Brooke said. “You rented a cool apartment above one of those stores downtown. Maybe on top of the bakery or the ice-cream shop.”
Great, that sounded appealing, even to Andi. “I’m thinking you’ll never guess. But it’s lots of fun.”
Brooke had come home last night full of stories about Sue, the dinosaur at the Field Museum of Natural History. And the bus ride to the zoo? The most exciting ride ever. Who knew public transportation could be so exotic? One day, Brooke announced, she would move to Chicago and live in a building and ride an elevator up to her apartment, where she could see the whole city from her huge windows. Andi hoped her daughter would have everything she dreamed of. It was a nice idea. Maybe that idea would stick, just like Brooke’s desire for a horse had lasted.
Lark’s cottage was only a few blocks from Donovan’s, Andi’s shorthand for Zeke’s store and docks. With Brooke sitting next to her with her forehead wrinkled in thought, only the slap of the windshield wipers broke the silence. Please, please don’t rain all day, she begged the gods of weather. Yesterday, she’d opened hatches and portholes to air out the boat and cut through the stale odor clinging to everything. She’d used her hand vacuum to clear away the first layer of dust and then wiped away the grime stuck on the woodwork in the staterooms. Then she’d finished up her workday by making up both bunks in the second stateroom, Brooke’s room. Satisfied she’d put the boat in suitable living conditions, she’d gone back to the cottage to wait for Miles to drop off Brooke.
Before leaving the cottage this morning, she encouraged Brooke to pack up a few of the wooden and ceramic horses in her collection, hoping the smile she sent Brooke’s way conveyed the air of fun mystery she intended. “There’s a perfect place for them in your new bedroom,” she’d said.
Andi was eager to share her excitement about restoring Drifting Dreamer. She’d explain to Brooke that the two of them would always remember the year they lived on a yacht all summer. It would be their special adventure. She’d tell her that even this run-down boat could be made beautiful again, just like she’d made their house in Green Bay beautiful. Not that Brooke could remember the months stretching to years of hard work that had made that happen.
Andi pulled into a parking place at the Bean Grinder and took Brooke inside with her to pick up coffee, a carton of milk and two blueberry muffins. “We’ll have our treat at our new table.” Or if the rain and wind let up, they could sit under the canopy at the deck table.
Brooke, distracted by all the pastries in the glass case, nodded but said nothing.
It was still drizzling when they parked at Donovan’s. “I’ll take the bag and coffee, you take the milk carton. Put up your hood and follow me.” She tried to keep her voice upbeat and light, but seeing the boat in the rain threatened her good mood, never mind Brooke’s impatience cutting into her positive attitude. Andi winced at the sorry sight of Drifting Dreamer. She didn’t look pretty under a clear sky, but in the rain, she was a real shipwreck.
When they reached the dock, Andi jolted, surprised to see Zeke appear on deck and lift his hand in a greeting. He was dry under the deck canopy.
“What’s going on?” Brooke asked.
“Well, this is Drifting Dreamer, our new home. Only for the summer.” Andi stepped aboard, looked behind her and pointed to the deck. “Just take one step and you’ll be aboard.” She nodded to Zeke. “I hear you’ve already met Zeke. He and his dad own the marine supply store and this dock, and now he owns this boat, too. I’m going to help him fix her up.”
Greeting her with a big smile, Zeke said, “Nice to see you again, Brooke. I met you at a party at the yacht club.”
Brooke stared at him, frowning.
Andi turned to Zeke and, keeping her voice low, asked, “Did something happen?”
“When the rain started in the night I got to thinking that I’d seen a couple of signs of leaking, so I came to check it out.”
Andi looked inside. Rolled-up towels were catching water landing on the counter. The source of the steady drip was a row of portholes on the port side. Buckets were catching water coming through cracks in the cabin roof and housing.
“Oh, no,” Andi muttered under her breath.
“I don’t want to live on a leaky old boat,” Brooke said with a quick shrug.
Andi laughed nervously. “I know it doesn’t look so good now, but it will. You’ll see.”
“We can get these leaks taken care of in no time. Before the boat was brought up here, she was covered up with a canvas tarp,” Zeke said with his focus on Brooke. “She’s been out of the water a long time. When that happens, the wood dries out and even the hull takes in water through the seams. But we’ll seal up everything. The place where you’re going to sleep is dry.”
“This isn’t the surprise I had in mind, Brooke.” Andi put her coffee and the bag on the deck table. “But, like Zeke says, the leaks can be fixed right away.” Desperate to sound bright and optimistic, she added, “I didn’t get to tell you the rest of the plan. This summer, I’m going to strip off all this old yellow varnish and sand the wood and make it gleam again. I can do this while we live here. We’ll even eat outside on the deck all the time. Like a picnic every day.”
Zeke nodded, his expression encouraging.
Brooke looked at the milk carton still in her hand. “I don’t care. I don’t want to eat outside. This isn’t a house.”
The rollout of her big surprise had gone so wrong, but Andi struggled to keep her voice steady, even firm, when she spoke. “That’s true, Brooke, but lots of people live on boats just like this. It’s a special kind of adventure. Some people live on motor yachts and sailboats and move from port to port, always exploring something new.”
“You have everything you need here,” Zeke said. “Even a shower and plenty of hot water. And your room has two bunks and a closet.”
“You can have a friend here to spend the night,” Andi said, flashing a grateful look to Zeke. She needed all the help she could get and was quickly running out of ideas. “Let’s go see the inside.”
“My friends are in Green Bay. Remember? We moved.” Her mouth tight, Brooke pivoted halfway around and stared off the stern into the distance. “There’s no one to invite.”
“There’s that little girl, Carrie.” Andi cast a hopeless look at Zeke, immediately regretting her suggestion. It had come to mind only because Carrie’s dad, Jerrod, ran diving trips, and Brooke knew the girl through Lark and her friends.
“Carrie’s six, Mom.”
“I know, I know. But you’ve mentioned her a few times. How nice she is. That’s all.” She turned to watch Zeke, who had gone inside the cabin and was making a show of checking the towels and buckets.
They’d reached an impasse. “We can talk this out later, Brooke. Come over to the table and have your snack.”
“Okay.” Brooke sat in the chair at the table. She yanked at her rain jacket and the snaps let go.
Good idea, Andi thought, as she slipped out of her jacket. They were dry under the canopy and the rain had tapered off to a drizzle, but humidity hung heavy in the air.
“You can take me to Dad’s,” Brooke said, lifting her chin a notch. “I’ll stay with him this summer.”
Her stomach dropped as she nearly shouted words of protest. But she held back her first negative response and closed her eyes. She would not overreact. She wouldn’t yell. But no way would Brooke spend her entire summer with her dad. Given Miles’s schedule, it was impossible, anyway.
She slid into a chair across from Brooke. “You know your dad has to go out of town to give his speeches and work with his clients, honey. He said he was flying out later today, in fact. His schedule isn’t going to change. Besides, your dad and I have always had our own time with you. Now that we’re living close by, it’s going to be even easier to make sure you see him when he’s in town.”
With her jaw set, Brooke said, “Lark won’t mind if I stay there all the time.”
“But I’ll mind, Brooke,” she blurted. She paused to let that sink in. She’d hold her ground. For herself, but also to head off problems with Brooke’s stepmom. Brooke had it wrong. Lark would mind. She had a son and a writing business to run. “This is a new experience for us, sweetie, just like your riding camp will be different and exciting. You need to give the boat a chance. I have a feeling you’ll like it.”
Brooke shook her head. “No, I won’t.” She took a big bite of her muffin and refused to meet Andi’s gaze.
Andi saw no choice but to ignore Brooke’s response. “Well, then, you finish up your muffin. I’ll show you the rest of the boat.” Andi picked up her coffee and muffin.
Going below, Zeke flashed a sympathetic look, prompting Andi to mouth the words, It will be okay.
“I hung around because I wanted to explain a few things about the leaks,” Zeke said, his voice conversational. “Fortunately, the staterooms are okay. It’s here in the galley and main saloon where the water’s coming in.”
Andi noted Zeke’s raised voice and his emphasis on saloon wasn’t lost on Brooke, whose face had taken on a look of curiosity.
Andi suppressed a smile. It would take a little more work to coax a question out of Brooke.
Keeping her voice casual, Andi led Zeke into Brooke’s stateroom and patted the shelf. “I was thinking the horse collection could go here.”
“Good place for it,” Zeke said agreeably.
“I plan to start the exterior work on good weather days, the cooler the better,” Andi said. “The rails can wait, but I can fill the cracks in the cabin house and start bringing that wood back. Both inside and out, I’ll take the doors off the lockers and work on them away from the boat. Easier that way.”
“Sounds good. There’s plenty of room in our workshop, which doubles as a storage shed, but I’ll get that cleaned out. We can store your supplies and tools there, too,” Zeke said. “You can start whenever you want.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brooke staring into the cabin, the unopened carton of milk still in her hand. Andi opened a heavy wooden door, exposing the empty shelves of the counter-size refrigerator. “If you don’t want your milk now, you can put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.”
“That’s a refrigerator?” Brooke asked.
Andi nodded.
“It’s kinda small.”
“The grocery store is right down the street. We’ll shop a little more often. That’s what people who live on boats do.”
“Back in the old days, boats like this didn’t have refrigerators,” Zeke said. “They used to put blocks of ice inside of lockers like this. They called them ice chests.”
Andi smiled at Zeke, noticing how his warm eyes communicated understanding. “Want to split my blueberry muffin?” she asked him. No harm in providing another subject to chat about.
“Uh, sure,” he said.
Andi picked up the muffin off the table and put it on top of the refrigerator before using her fingers to split it more or less in half. “Help yourself.”
“Nothing quite like a Bean Grinder muffin,” Zeke said, breaking off a chunk and popping it in his mouth. “My dad and I go there for something almost every day.”
“That place is one of the best things about living in Two Moon Bay.” She kept her hands busy and periodically glanced at Zeke, who continued playing along with her game of slowly introducing the different features of the boat, taking a side trip only to extol the Bean Grinder.
The sound of a dog barking in the background got Zeke’s attention. “Teddy,” he said, frowning. “My dad must have brought him down.” He went out to the deck.
Andi followed and laughed when she saw Teddy dash to the boat, dragging his leash. An older man, presumably Art, followed behind and tried to catch up to the fast dog. Zeke hurried off the boat and onto the dock and caught the dog by the collar in the grass. “Hey, Teddy, slow down.”
“Is that your dog?” Brooke called out.
“He is, and he gets excited when he sees kids.”
“Why?” Brooke went to the rail on the stern to watch the dog, the whole back half of him in motion, not just his wildly wagging tail.
Andi joined her, smiling to herself. Teddy the goodwill ambassador. Maybe he’d save the day. Her spirits soared when she noted the rain had completely stopped. The dripping below would stop, too.
“We don’t know why he’s drawn to kids, Brooke,” Zeke said, “but he’s always been that way.”
Was that true? Andi wondered. Or was Zeke saying that to get Brooke’s attention? Watching the dog jump around, obviously more excited than usual, she thought maybe Teddy really was a kids’ kind of dog.
“My dad and I figure he gets bored with us. He wants more active companions,” Zeke said, hanging on to the leash as Art got closer. “Right, Dad?”
“Yep. Teddy sort of wandered into our lives. Maybe he had kid friends in his puppyhood and now he wishes we had a girl like you around.” Art came closer to the stern. “I’m Art. You must be the one Teddy’s been waiting for. What’s your name?”
“Brooke.” She stared at the dog. He was still jumping and straining to get free. “Are you sure the dog—Teddy—likes kids?”
“Sit, Teddy, sit,” Zeke ordered. “He’s just all worked up now. He didn’t know company was coming today.”
Andi watched as the dog obeyed and sat, but his tail thumped on the dock. Seeing Teddy get this excited over Brooke, Andi couldn’t help but be a little apprehensive herself. Zeke was holding him back, though.
“He’ll settle down in a minute,” Zeke said, as if reading her mind.
Andi waved to Art. “I’m Andi. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet.”
Smiling, Art said, “It’s nice to see this place looking alive.” He elbowed Zeke. “It gets kind of dull around here with just the two of us.”
Andi could have planted a big kiss on Art’s cheek. In spite of herself, Brooke was focused on the dog and Art. Distractions, Andi thought. Maybe the initial knee-jerk negativity would soften.
“Mind if I come aboard and have a look around?” Art asked. “Zeke has had all the fun out here getting her ready for you. I’ve been so busy in the store I haven’t had but one quick peek inside.”
“Of course.” Andi swept her arm in a welcoming gesture. “Come aboard.”
Zeke stayed behind with the dog, and Brooke stood still and kept her eyes on Teddy, while Andi led Art into the cabin.
“Zeke is bringing me supplies to help fix the leaks,” she said. “Brooke and I will move aboard in a couple of days, and provided we don’t get more rain, I ought to be able to fill the cracks on the cabin top.”
Art nodded. “Zeke will get that done for you. Right away. We don’t want you and Brooke living with towels and buckets all over the place.” He opened some locker doors in the galley, nodded in approval and then looked into the bigger stateroom in the stern. “She was built to be a luxury yacht. That much is clear.”
Andi heard Teddy on the deck and Zeke’s voice warning him not to jump. “Sounds like Brooke and Teddy are being introduced.”
Art grinned. “He’s a good little critter all around. As soon as he showed up, I knew that unless his owners claimed him, ol’ Teddy would know he’d found himself a couple of suckers to give him a new home.”
“Oh, yeah, I can tell he’s been such a burden,” Andi teased.
Art’s brown eyes were full of fun. “Ah, you’re on to us already.”
Looking out to the deck, Andi could see Brooke had crouched down next to the sitting dog and was petting him, starting at the top of his head and running her hand all the way down his furry back. “You’re a cute dog, Teddy,” she said. “Lots of my friends in Green Bay have dogs, so I’m used to them. As long as they don’t jump on me.”
Zeke stood nearby keeping an eye on Brooke and Teddy. Art continued looking around—opened notched drawers, checked hinges and hardware on the lockers. Andi took her own inventory of all the hardware and wood she’d remove, repair and restore. The storage behind the curved seat at the table had sliding doors that dragged in their tracks when Art tried to open them.
“These can all be taken out,” Art said. “A little sanding will get ’em riding in the grooves.”
“That’s the plan,” she said, feeling lighter now that she was engaged in talking about her work plan—her strategy to make real progress. Maybe the worst was over? At least Brooke could see they wouldn’t be isolated on the waterfront. They’d even have a dog coming around to say hello.
With Zeke staying with him, Teddy came down into the cabin and began his rounds sniffing in the corners and disappearing into the cabin in the bow. Brooke’s room, Andi thought. Pretending she hadn’t noticed, Andi turned her attention to sliding some locker doors back and forth with Art to see what they’d need. She didn’t comment when Brooke followed Teddy.
Andi soon heard Brooke’s voice coming from the cabin. “What are you smelling, Teddy? Something good?”
Zeke caught her eye and they connected as if she’d known him for years. Art kept at his project of opening every one of the dozens of storage drawers and cabinets, exclaiming over the space.
“Zeke? Art?” Brooke called out. “Is it okay if Teddy sits on the bunk? He jumped up here.”
Zeke held out his hand to his dad to keep him from blurting an answer. Instead, he said, “It’s your cabin, Brooke. It’s up to you and your mom.”
“It’s fine with me,” Andi said.
“Okay,” Brooke called out. “You can stay, Teddy.”
Putting her palms flat on the dining table, Andi rested her weight on them and exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath for hours. Relieved at last, Andi picked up her coffee and pulled off a piece of the muffin, moist with blueberries. She could savor it now.
“It’s just like that dog to make himself at home,” Art said, chuckling. “Right, Zeke?”
Andi quickly ate her half of the muffin in silence, while Zeke checked the towels and Art poked around in the lockers.
Suddenly, Art smacked his hands together. “Uh-oh, I just remembered. I’ve got to get back and finish repacking up all that foul-weather gear that got dumped at our front door.”
Zeke spun around. “What? That shipment that came in yesterday was our new rain jackets and boots and pants.”
“Nah, it was the wrong kind,” Art said, swatting the air. “We’d never order the stuff that’s in those boxes.”
Zeke gave Andi a pointed look. “I’ll come with you, Dad. We can get it all sorted out.”
“Did you say rain gear?” Andi asked, hoping her instincts were right and she was following Zeke’s lead.
Nodding, Zeke said, “It’s a new brand we’re trying out. The first order arrived yesterday.”
“I was just thinking that Brooke needs a raincoat. For the summer. She outgrew her old one.”
“We have some in children’s sizes.” Zeke followed Art to the deck and off the boat.
“Why don’t I get Brooke and we’ll be right along,” Andi suggested. “We’ll bring Teddy with us.”
Although clearly distracted, Zeke said, “Okay, that’s good.”
Sensing something was going on between Art and Zeke she didn’t understand, Andi went back inside the cabin to get Brooke and the dog. Wow, in a split second, the atmosphere had changed. Or, more to the point, Zeke’s mood had changed. Worry had changed his eyes, darkened his expression. Over raincoats?
* * *
THE RACK ZEKE had cleared for the new rain gear stood empty. Only the old hanging display held the same brand of heavy—some called it stiff and uncomfortable—rain jackets and pants they’d sold for years. “There’s nothing wrong with the old foul-weather gear, Dad,” Zeke said, keeping his hand on top of the pile of new jackets, “but we need to offer the lighter-weight type. I’ve done the research. People like it. Not everyone needs to be dressed for a gale, not when they’re out for an afternoon in their runabout.”
Agitated, Art slapped the side of the box. “Did you see the price on those pieces? They might be lightweight, but that doesn’t make them any good. Could be just the opposite.”
Zeke made his case about quality and customers asking for the newer gear. “You and I talked about this before I put the order in.”
Such a small thing, but it was the kind of incident that triggered Zeke’s growing fear about his dad. They’d been over and over the need to update merchandise, including a line of upscale marine clothing perfect for the cold, damp Midwest days. “Remember what we talked about, Dad. It’s not only about what the customers need, it’s about what they want, what they ask for.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t remember ordering any of this,” Art said, his voice rising with every word. “Our regular rain gear has served this store and our customers for over fifty years.”
Back to where they started. If he didn’t stop it in its tracks, they’d repeat the whole circle of thought. He didn’t like strong-arming his dad about decisions affecting the store, but Zeke found himself forced into it more and more. The squeak of the screen door opening came as a relief. Andi and Brooke might distract Dad and put the brakes on the argument. Teddy came in so fast, he slid across the floor. “Well, Teddy, you’re having the best day ever,” Zeke said. Like I was...until now.
“We hear you have rain jackets here. Did we come to the right place?” Andi’s tone was so cheery it hurt. She was nobody’s fool. She’d read the situation well enough to know something wasn’t quite right.
He watched her study the piles of yellow raincoats. Maybe later, he’d have a chance to pull her aside and tell her what he’d uncovered about Drifting Dreamer. It wasn’t all that much, but it was something.
“We stick with the standard yellow,” Art said to Brooke. “Any other color and you’ll look like a landlubber.”
Brooke giggled. At times like this, when his dad was funny and entertaining, it seemed a shame he’d never had a grandchild to dote on. But the next minute, his dad’s face seemed to cloud over. Befuddled, he turned to Zeke. “So, what were you saying? You want me to box all this up?”
Zeke lifted a handful of folded jackets out of the carton. “Nope, we’re going to stack some and hang up the rest.” His arms loaded with jackets, Zeke went across the store and put them on a display table.
“I wish you’d told me about this order,” Art said, his tone accusatory and plaintive.
Forcing a reassuring, soothing tone of voice, Zeke said, “No big deal.” He turned to Andi, whose now solemn gaze was focused on his dad. Zeke’s chest was heavy with raw impatience. No excuses, no weaseling out of the reality that irritation with his dad had nearly gotten the better of him. And over a shipment of raincoats.
So often the what’s-next? question loomed in Zeke’s mind. His fears of what was ahead were a constant presence, part of being vigilant, always on guard. What if his dad had managed to pack that merchandise and send it back? When he played the question out, all the way to the end, he relaxed long enough to see it could have been written off as a simple mistake and quickly corrected. But what was happening to his dad wasn’t so easily fixed.
Since he’d brought Andi into their small world, he’d need to give her a heads-up. Regret lodged in his chest. Maybe he’d made a big mistake. Scrapping Drifting Dreamer would have been a whole lot easier.
Brooke’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where did Teddy go?”
“He’s probably flopped down in his bed next to the file cabinets,” Art said, grinning. “You probably tuckered him out. He’s not used to having a lively kid around.” Art pointed to the open door to the office. “Why don’t we go see what he’s up to?”
“Maybe he needs water or something,” Brooke said, following Art.
Andi smiled as she moved closer to the counter. “You should have seen Brooke just now. She caught a little of the excitement about living on the boat, discovering how many cubbyholes and shelves she has in her cabin.”
Zeke nodded, but then gestured around him. “Sorry I had to run off so fast, but real life intruded around here.”
“No problem,” Andi said, patting one of the boxes. “Since I’m already here, why don’t I help you finish unpacking this carton? You said it has the kids’ jackets? I can pick out the size for Brooke and let her try it on.”
Zeke responded forcefully. “You don’t need to do that.”
“But I want to.” She held his gaze, almost challenging him. “I insist.”
“Well, okay, follow me.” He carried the carton to the display table in their clothing section and explained the process of getting them displayed and ready to sell.
“Sounds straightforward enough. And I’m sure I’ll find a new jacket for Brooke.” She leaned toward him. “Is everything okay—with Art, I mean?”
Zeke shook his head, grateful for the opening handed to him. “Something’s off. It’s not your imagination. I’ll explain later when we’re alone. But Art’s fine most of the time.”
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Virginia McCullough
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Moving to a new place isn’t easy…Until a neglected ship—and its owner—make her feel at homeAfter spying a boat in need of some TLC, single mom Andi Sterling strikes a deal with its owner, Zeke Donovan, who shares her passion for restoring old things. Uncovering the legendary ship’s secrets draws them closer. Is it too soon for Andi to open her heart to the chance to build new dreams?