Beach Rose Path, page 15
“How about a walk on the beach?” Fireworks will be starting soon," he said. It was probably a ridiculous thing to ask after the day Charlotte had probably had, but Duncan wasn’t ready for the day to end, and a romantic walk on the Maine beach on the Fourth of July would do them both good.
“I’d love it. Little Lovey loves her evening beach strolls. Just let me officially close up and then we can go.”
“Sounds perfect,” Duncan said. As if on cue, Little Lovey tumbled from his lap and headed toward the door.
“Don’t worry, Lovey, we’re going, we’re going,” Duncan laughed, watching Charlotte pull down the blinds and flip the sign on the door from open to closed.
“Yes, it does sound perfect,” she whispered, standing on her tip toes and quietly kissing Duncan.
“I can’t wait to hear all about your day,” she whispered. He wrapped his arms around Charlotte, and they headed toward the darkening beach, with the beam of the Sea Star Lighthouse, lighting the shore on Beach Rose Path.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Time flies when you’re having fun.
The words Tatiana spoke on the Fourth of July weekend echoed within Charlotte’s mind, when the bright flares of fireworks that showered from the sky that night were now replaced by lightly falling leaves the color of bright gold and light crimson.
Autumn arrived in Lobster Claw a bit earlier than it did in Boston, and Charlotte already noticed the beautiful sunsets made their appearance a bit earlier and the glorious sunrises dawned a smidge later.
Charlotte was watching one of those sunrises, sipping her coffee while Little Lovey pranced around near the shore. She was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs reserved for guests, but today, it was going to be her turn during this beautiful and peaceful part of the day, where the sun was breaking and the still warm breezes blew in from the ocean.
“Not too far, Lovey!” Charlotte commanded as Lovey scampered closer to the piping plover’s restricted area. She was now four months old and healthy as could be. She responded to Charlotte’s training extremely well—was still getting overexcited about rewards—and always listened when called. Lovey turned her yellow head toward Charlotte as if to say ‘Okay, Mom!’ and sprinted in the opposite direction, chasing the white caps on the lolling waves.
A sense of contentment settled over Charlotte like a comfortable old sweater. The Shop at Beach Rose Path was turning a profit this summer, and Charlotte’s days were filled with thinking of ways of bringing in business, new merchandise, and other ways to entice more customers to the shop. Even some year-round residents of Lobster Claw found it a place to have a cup of coffee, sit for a while and chat with tourists about how special a place Lobster Claw was.
Charlotte found wonderful friends in the Beach Block, and especially with Tatiana, and Ivy made an appearance a couple of times a week for a Lovey check in.
And then there was Duncan.
As busy as he was getting his own business off the ground and into the water, they were still able to see each other almost every evening, either walking to the Beach Block for some dessert at Take the Cake, or just sitting peacefully on the beach, watching Lovey frolic by the shore. Lovey adored Duncan, and Charlotte was beginning to feel the same. Anytime he was near, Charlotte felt her heart accelerate and her body tremble. The attraction she felt for him was strong, and she knew that he felt it too, catching him on several occasions just gazing at her, brushing up close if he happened to come into her busy store, and the strong squeeze of his arms around her. Charlotte knew she was being cautious, and she sensed that he was too, never going too far, but at the same time, Charlotte wished that he would be bold enough to go a little further.
And then what? she would think. Then, you’d be sorry that he did and that you relented. Things are fine the way they are now. It’s only been a summer, and summer romances never last.
That’s what Charlotte believed, anyway. When it came to affairs of the heart, summer wasn’t real. It was fleeting, dreamy, and enchanting, just like the long and leisurely walks on the beach while watching the majestic and colorful sunsets near the lighthouse. Charlotte was under the spell of a magical summer trance, and now with the turning of the leaves, the coolness of the evenings, and the shortness of the days, the spell was about to break, and she would be hurtled back into a cold reality.
On the other hand, Charlotte couldn’t ignore her growing feelings for Duncan. She knew she was falling in love with him, and although the chemistry between them was powerful, she got the sense that was something holding him back from taking that leap from like to love. True, Duncan had been engaged, and that he ended it because of his fiancée’s infidelity, but she still wanted to know more. Did he still love her? Was he ever planning on seeing her again?
Charlotte sighed. When she accepted Hamish’s proposal to start fresh in Lobster Claw, the last thing she was looking for was a romantic relationship. And here she was with not only the possibility of one, but a new dog, new friends, new business. She was crossing a threshold into a new life, with one foot over the threshold, but the other, still stubbornly fighting not to step onto the other side.
“Should I let him know how I feel?” she whispered, putting the cup to her lips and sipping the warm brew, hoping that an answer would be whispered from somewhere on this glorious morning.
“Silly girl,” she laughed as she rose from the chair. She heard the vibration of her phone and grabbed it with an enthusiastic greeting.
“Hamish! How wonderful to hear your voice!”
“Oh, yours, too, Char. How’ve ya been?”
“Oh, there’s so much, Hamish. So much. I wish I could just hop on a jet and fly to Scotland and have tea and scones and just chat.” Charlotte was beyond thrilled at hearing her old friend’s voice.
“Well, how about the other way around? That’s why I’m calling. I’m actually in Halifax now visiting with Rory and am planning to stop down to Lobster Claw for Labor Day weekend—would that work with you? Maybe you can put this old man to work in the store?”
“Hamish! Are you kidding? That would be wonderful! Oh, I’ve missed you so much, and you can meet everyone, and…”
Hamish laughed. “Sounds like a plan then, Char.” Hamish’s cheerfulness warmed Charlotte’s heart. She would actually be seeing Hamish in just a few days.
“I’ll text you the details, Char. Sure am looking forward to some tea and scones with my old friend.”
“Same here, Hamish. Yes, text me everything and I’ll see you soon!”
“See you soon. Going to play a few rounds with Rory now, so I’ll be signing off. Take care, Char.”
“Come on, Lovey,” Charlotte called, ready to tackle the day, and especially so now that Hamish Falconer would be paying her a visit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TWHACK
Hamish watched as the golf ball arched high in the clear Canadian sky. It let off a sound like steam releasing from a pressure cooker as it sailed through the air, then gracefully landed a hair from the 9th hole.
“You’ve still got it, Hame!” Rory Ruskin grabbed his golf bag as Hamish put his iron back into his bag, ready to make the trek down the green to the 9th hole.
“Aye, I do still love this sport,” he said, patting his old friend on the back.
“Say, you make that putt and we’ll call it a day. Let’s go to the clubhouse for a drink, how’s that?”
“Sounds perfect to me.” They reached the 9th hole and Hamish effortlessly putted the dimpled white ball straight into the hole. The two friends laughed, gathered their clubs and set on their way for their post-game drink.
“It’s been so great to see you, Hamish,” Rory said, ordering their favorite stout beers. The bartender presented Hamish and Rory with two large glasses filled with frothy coffee-colored beer with foam about two inches high. Hamish took a draught, delighted by the milky and rustic stout.
“Been great to see you as well, my friend. As much as I love being home, I do miss this side of the pond.”
The two friends drank their beer, and Rory order two more.
“So, you’re definitely headed down to Lobster Claw?” Rory asked sipping his beer.
Hamish slid his glass away on the shiny oak bar. Only Rory knew the truth.
“Aye, Rory, it’s time to put things to rights.”
“Things are right, Hamish. The best decisions were made at the time, I believe. I thought you did too.”
Hamish nodded his head in agreement.
“Yes, yes, it was the best decision for me and Hannah. But was it for Tatiana?”
“She agreed to all your terms, Hamish,” Rory said, looking his oldest friend right in the eye. “You should have no guilt about anything at all. None at all.”
Hamish took the last sip of his beer. “I never thought that by sending Charlotte to Lobster Claw that these old memories would be dredged up again. Never even gave it a thought that Tati was even still in Lobster Claw. I had tried so hard to forget all about her and then Charlotte told me about her and their friendship. No, I was the one who gained, and Tati was the one who suffered. Ever since I found out she was in Lobster Claw, I’ve barely thought of anything else. She probably won’t even want to see me, but I’ve got to try. I owe Charlotte an explanation as well. Here I am just appearing on her doorstep out of nowhere. It would seem a little suspicious to me if I were her.”
Hamish felt Rory’s reassuring hand squeeze his arm.
“In my book you owe nobody anything. Everything was legal and Tatiana made her choice.”
“You’re a good friend, Rory Ruskin. That you are. But no matter the outcome, I need to see her. Even though our years with Annabelle were few, well, there’d be no Annabelle without Tatiana.”
“You do what you feel is right, Hame. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you, Rory,” Hamish said, grateful for his old friend’s loyalty.
But as he was approaching his 75th birthday, Hamish knew he could no longer keep the past buried in his heart and in his soul. Would it do any good, righting old wrongs and opening old wounds? Wounds that cut so deep Hamish could still feel them decades later.
“I know people think that some things should stay in the past, but it has been tugging at me ever since Charlotte mentioned Tati and I can’t get her out of my head. I’ve had trouble sleeping, even eating, if you can believe that,” he laughed, as the bartender brought each man another glass of stout, “but I do think this is part of my past that needs to be revisited, and I think I might be the better for it.”
“You might feel better, but what about Tati? Do you think she’ll even see you?” Rory asked, wiping the foam from his chin with his sleeve.
“Aye, I’ve thought about that, too, Rory. It’s just a chance I’ll have to take.”
“Here’s to taking chances,” Rory said, holding up his glass for a toast.
“To taking chances,” Hamish said as the two friends clinked their glasses together, with Hamish, now, feeling more confident in his decision to see the woman from his past who had changed his life forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“So I finally get to meet the great and powerful Hamish Falconer,” Duncan said, pouring himself a cup of coffee in the shop. He stopped by the store as he was on his way to Boston to tie up the legal loose ends with his firm. He was selling his share to the other partners, and then he was off to meet with the realtor who sold his condo. His life in Boston was officially coming to a close, and his life in Lobster Claw was opening. He planned to reinvest his buy-out monies into his ferry business that was doing well, making deliveries and taking tourists up and down the Maine coast. He was thinking about potentially purchasing another boat, and he and Charlotte talked about the possibility of starting a sightseeing tour business with guests meeting at The Shop at Beach Rose Path. But those plans were still in the future. Duncan needed to deal with the here and now and he wanted it all done by the end of the day, so tomorrow could truly be the first day of the rest of his life. And that would hopefully include Charlotte.
“Oh, Duncan, you’ll just adore him, and I can’t wait for you to meet him. I know he’ll feel the same about you.”
It was an hour before opening, and Charlotte was scurrying about the store, ensuring there were enough coffee cups, napkins, and everything else she would need for the busy day head. Hamish would be arriving around 7 p.m. after the store closed and then they would finally catch up on the last few months.
“I hope he likes what I’ve done with the place,” Charlotte said, opening the back door to let Lovey out into the enclosed area in the back yard.
“He’ll more than love it, Charlotte,” Duncan said, pulling Charlotte by the arm and settling her on the couch.
He looked deeply into her shining golden-brown eyes, tiny lines forming every time she smiled, the dimples in each of her cheeks deepening. She always seemed to be glowing and positive, and he found her optimism rubbing off on him, which pleased him tremendously. He told Charlotte he was tying up the legal loose ends in Boston, but that wasn’t the only reason for his going. There was something else that he needed to do.
“I wish you didn’t have to go today,” she said, taking his hand and bringing it to her lips, her kiss making his own heart beat faster. “I’ll miss you.”
Her words touched him deeply and he leaned in and kissed her, the softness of her lips never failing to trigger shooting stars behind his closed eyes.
“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered. “But if I don’t pull myself away from you now, I’ll never leave,” he laughed, rising from the couch.
“Come on. Walk me to my truck,” he said, extending his hand. Charlotte slipped her hand into his and he squeezed it lovingly. He wrapped his arms around her as they walked out into the coolness of the early September Labor Day weekend.
“Drive carefully,” Charlotte whispered. Duncan felt her arms tightening around his chest and her soft lips again on his.
Duncan opened the door of the truck and hopped into the cab and started the engine. Lovey’s barking was then heard above the roar of the truck’s engine.
“Oh, hold on a sec, Duncan, she wants to say goodbye.” Charlotte ran into the yard, opened the gate, and Lovey dashed to the passenger side of the truck, where she was used to getting in.
Duncan leaned over and opened the door, the enthusiastic dog jumping into the passenger seat, lavishing him with her kisses.
“Okay, okay,” Duncan said laughing. He adored Little Lovey and loved nothing more than spending time with the dog as well as her mistress.
“C’mon, sweetie. Duncan needs to go. He’ll be back later.”
Little Lovey looked at Charlotte, gave Duncan one last kiss and hopped out of the truck. She sniffed around at the tires and then trotted into the back yard.
“Text me when you get there,” Charlotte said, kissing Duncan on the cheek.
“Will do.” He put the car in reverse and pulled out onto Sand Dollar Drive and toward the bright lights of the big city of Boston.
“Okay, then,” Charlotte said, making her way back to the house. She opened the gate to the yard where Lovey was lying on the grass, her paws furiously working on something.
“What do you have there, Lovey?” Charlotte asked, bending down to take what was an envelope from Lovey’s paws.
“Oh, this must have fallen out of Duncan’s truck when you hopped out. Don’t chew this.” She wiped a bit of slobber away and saw the envelope was addressed to Duncan. The penmanship was beautiful and flowery, and very feminine. Charlotte even thought she detected a hint of a scent, perhaps perfume? There was no return address, and the envelope was opened. A lilac-colored sheet of paper was folded inside of the envelope.
Don’t do it, Charlotte, she silently commanded herself. But she didn’t listen and found herself almost in a trance, slowly pulling the sheet of paper from the envelope. As she began to unfold the paper, the scent became stronger.
“It is perfume,” she whispered. It smelled expensive, a perfume that could only be bought in a high-end store in a big city.
The letter was written in the same delicate and beautiful script that was on the envelope. Charlotte allowed her eyes to read the letter.
Dunny,
I made a mistake. If I have to apologize to you for the rest of my life, if that is what it truly takes, then I will, if it means you would come back to me. I am not sure why I did what I did, but I can and will promise you that Eric never meant anything to me. You know how you are when you get wrapped up in a project—nothing in the world exists except for that. Not even me. It was at a low time in our relationship, and Eric gave to me what you did not. I am not blaming you for my terrible indiscretion, but I am human, I am a woman, and I needed you, but you were not there for me. I was angry and I did something terribly, terribly stupid. Please remember how amazing we were together in every aspect of our lives. Every. My heart, my soul, and my body aches for you, Dunny. Please come back to me.
Forever yours, and with all of my love. M.
Charlotte’s shaking hands turned over the envelope. It was postmarked August 27, Boston, MA a little more than a week ago.
He’s had this and he never said a word, Charlotte thought as she could feel the hot tears sting behind her eyes. And now he was on his way to Boston. Was he really tying up loose ends or was he going to see her?
Charlotte heard the soft whimper of Lovey, who had sidled close to her leg, knowing that her mistress was in some type of distress.
She crouched down beside her dog and hugged her tightly. She kissed the top of her soft head, thankful for Little Lovey’s caring presence.
“I’m okay, sweetie,” she said, rising back up and walking toward the house. She had work to do and Hamish was arriving this evening. Now was not the time for tears. She quickly relived the last few moments she had spent with Duncan and chastised herself for her own stupidity.
