Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) Page 15

The inn’s projected bottom line now even looked better than before the horrifying wedding cancellation. Morgan had to wonder why she’d never thought of discounting rooms before and could only chalk it up to a bad combo of grief, false hope, and tunnel vision.

  Then again, she was a teacher, not an innkeeper or marketing expert.

  Though Ryan’s room wasn’t producing revenue, his work around the B&B was worth more than any rate she might have charged. And despite the ongoing temptation of having him close by, it was wonderful to have him around. He made her feel, well, grounded for lack of a better term, and Sabrina had told her that Ryan made her feel safe.

  Unfortunately, that was going to change sooner than she’d hoped.

  “Ryan’s still sticking around at least through Labor Day, isn’t he?” Sabrina asked.

  Morgan poured a cup of coffee and stirred in some cream. “Yes, but he’ll be moving out of here soon.”

  His mother had just let him know that a friend of hers was spending the month of August on the West Coast and that Ryan was welcome to use her house. Morgan could hardly blame him for wanting a place where he’d have more space and privacy.

  Sabrina grimaced. “Can’t you get him to change his mind? I’m getting used to having him around. Who knew such a hotshot could cook so well?”

  The way Sabrina had finally warmed up to Ryan had been a revelation. She never made it easy for anyone—least of all men—to get close to her. But Ryan had managed to slowly breach her defenses. He’d made a point of working with her in the kitchen almost every day, most often deferring to her skills and saying he was eager to learn from her. The true turning point might have been the July Fourth social, when he’d danced with Sabrina more than anyone else. While most island men steered clear of Morgan’s prickly sister, Ryan had made her feel like the belle of the ball.

  Watching his kindness to her baby sister, Morgan had fallen for him even harder than before.

  “Maybe you should tell him you want him to stay,” she said to Sabrina, leaning her elbows onto the island counter, “since you two are getting so tight. I’ve already made it clear that he’s more than welcome to keep his room as long as he wants.”

  Sabrina nodded, looking determined. “I will, then. He makes me feel like . . .” She stopped, searching for words.

  “Like what?” Morgan prompted gently.

  “Well, I guess he makes me feel like everything might turn out all right here after all.”

  Morgan’s throat went a little tight. “I know what you mean, sweetie.”

  He’d done so much for them, not only reroofing the entire house but also with a dozen other repairs to the house and annex. Even though she kept asking him to give her the bills for the materials, Morgan strongly suspected he was tossing them in the trash.

  That, of course, made her feel loads of guilt, exacerbated by the lack of time he spent kayaking. He squeezed in short trips on most days, but it was clearly not what he’d expected. The guy had come home to relax and explore the islands, not bust his ass fixing the never-ending stream of little problems that kept cropping up at Golden Sunset.

  So she’d been pleased today when Ryan told her he intended to paddle all the way to Bailey Island and back. He’d be bone-tired by the time he finished such a long trip, so she and Sabrina had decided to surprise him with his favorite dish, spaghetti and meatballs.

  When Morgan’s cell phone rang, she glanced down at the call display. Holly’s home number. Surprised that her friend wasn’t at her Boston marketing firm at this hour on a workday, she snatched up the phone. “What’s wrong?”

  Holly’s gentle laugh reassured her. “Calm down, sweetie. Boy, I thought I was the one needing a tranquilizer.”

  Morgan slumped against the counter. Man, her nerves were totally strung. “Seriously, are you all right? You never call from home at this hour. Hell, you’re hardly ever at home, what with that crazy-ass job of yours.”

  Holly breathed a little sigh. “I’m okay. Well, sort of anyway.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well, I was out for a run along the Charles yesterday when my left foot went out from under me. I can’t even describe the pain, Morgan. It felt like something inside there was ripping in half.”

  “Oh crap,” Morgan groaned.

  “To make a long story short, an MRI showed I’d ruptured my peroneus brevis tendon. It’s the one that allows you to flex your foot. Not a smart thing to snap, huh?”

  “I’m so sorry. They can fix that surgically, can’t they?” Morgan recalled that Roy Mayo had undergone an operation for a ruptured tendon in his foot a few years back. He’d suffered through a miserable convalescence but was as good as new now.

  “Yes, it’s a relatively simple procedure. You’re supposedly in and out of the hospital in a few hours. I go under the knife the day after tomorrow.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty fast.”

  “I’m very lucky that the orthopedic surgeon was able to schedule it so quickly.”

  Though her good friend sounded remarkably calm, Morgan couldn’t help wondering how Holly would manage on her own during a long recuperation. It made Morgan wish she had the whole summer off as she had in the past. She’d have moved in with Holly until her friend was healed and fully mobile.

  “You’ll need someone to help you out for a few days,” she said, her mind jumping ahead to the practicalities. “I’ll drive down tomorrow.” Sabrina could handle the inn for a little while, especially since Ryan would be around to share the load.

  “No, no. Thank you, darling, we’ve got it covered. Aunt Florence is coming tomorrow night, and the next day she’ll drive me up to Seashell Bay to convalesce. The surgeon tells me I absolutely have to keep my weight off my foot for four weeks, so I’ll be with you guys for most of the summer. That’s at least one good thing to come out of this stupid accident.”

  Ordinarily, Morgan would have been over the moon to have her lifelong friend come home for that length of time. But she simply couldn’t imagine how Holly’s elderly aunts, who’d raised her after their niece had been orphaned, would manage the amount of assistance Holly would need. “Are you sure Florence and Beatrice are going to be physically up to that? Aren’t you going to need more, uh, robust help?”

  Holly hesitated for a moment. “I do worry about that a little, especially for the first week or two while I’m getting used to crutches.” She gave a mirthless little laugh. “I was wondering how I’d manage the stairs up to my bedroom, but Aunt Florence said they’d get somebody to clear out the dining room and set up a bed for me down there.”

  She’d be sleeping in the dining room? That was a crappy solution. “Look, Holly, you should let me help you instead. I’ll take you to and from the hospital, and then we’ll drive up to Portland when you’re ready. You can have my room at the B&B, and I’ll take one of the guest rooms upstairs. Remember, we’ve got a wheelchair ramp too.”

  When Holly started to protest, Morgan talked right over her. “You’ll be in a wheelchair sometimes, right? Because crutches are awkward and exhausting. And by the way, I’m not taking no for an answer, so get that out of your stubborn head right now.”

  “Oh, all right,” Holly said with a sigh. “You’re truly the best, Morgan, but please don’t think the reason I called was to ask you to do this.”

  “Of course not. It’ll just make it easier on everybody, especially your dear aunts.”

  “Everybody except you,” Holly said. “You don’t exactly need another burden. Not with what you’ve already got on your plate.”

  “Holly Tyler, I’m more likely to sprout a pair of wings and fly across the Atlantic than I am to ever think of you as a burden,” Morgan said firmly.

  “What if you need that guest room? And I will pay you, by the way.”

  While the inn was indeed fully booked for one week—around the Blueberry Festival—Ryan would be gone by then. “No, you won’t, and it’s not a problem. I’ll even try to add a few touches to my bedroom to make it
as girlie as yours,” she said.

  Holly laughed. “That’s impossible unless you paint the whole thing pink. Now, just out of curiosity, is Ryan still there?”

  “For the moment, but he’s going to spend August at a house that one of his mother’s friends is letting him use.”

  “And how’s it been going with him lately anyway? Or should I be minding my own business?”

  The last time they’d talked, Morgan had filled Holly in on the gist of what had happened the day she and Ryan paddled to Peaks Island. “It’s fine, but let’s just say that being around him remains a challenge. Like every hour of every day.”

  “Details, girlfriend. I need details. I’m totally bored with being an invalid already.”

  “Relax, you’ll have plenty of time to interrogate me after tomorrow.”

  “True enough,” Holly said. “I can’t wait to see you and Lily again. Being able to spend a month with the people I love most in the world is almost worth rupturing a tendon.”

  “I’m glad you said almost or I’d have to drive you straight to the psychiatric hospital after surgery.” Holly was pretty much a workaholic.

  Her friend laughed. “I guess I’d better call Aunt Florence now and let her know she’s off the hook. I hope Sabrina doesn’t mind me crashing at your place. You’ll tell me if she has any problem with it, right?”

  “She’ll be fine. Sabrina loves you like a sister.”

  “I love her too, and I can’t wait to see both of you. And Ryan too.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m leaving town,” Morgan said.

  “Okay. Love you lots,” Holly said and disconnected.

  Sabrina’s eyes were wide when Morgan turned around. Clearly, her sister had heard everything. “You’re okay with all that, right?” Morgan said.

  Sabrina shrugged. “It’s no big deal for you to go to Boston. Not as long as Ryan’s here with me.”

  At Mackerel Cove, Ryan beached his kayak. He popped open the forward hatch and pulled out a clean Red Sox T-shirt so he could look half-assed presentable at the restaurant. By stopping here, he could walk the length of the small island to Cook’s Lobster House for lunch.

  He started off at a quick pace along the narrow road. There wasn’t a lot to see—just a smattering of modest houses and the little motel with the miniature lighthouse out front that had survived since his last trip here. He had so much energy he could easily have run all the way to the restaurant and back. Since starting work at the B&B, he’d felt better physically every day—and mentally too. Helping Morgan and Sabrina had given him a different kind of purpose this summer. Kayaking, working out, and lazing around like he’d planned would’ve had a certain purpose too, but taking care of business at Golden Sunset made him feel like he was doing something important.

  The work had been hard at times, and reroofing the B&B in blazing heat had been a bitch in particular. Yet it brought its own set of rewards, like the camaraderie he’d shared with Aiden and Roy as they worked and joked around on breaks. Like the joy in little Christian’s eyes every time Ryan took the awkward, enthusiastic kid out for a kayak lesson.

  But hands down the biggest reward came from Morgan. She’d thanked him about a million times, even for the most minor things, and had flatly credited him with saving the inn with his idea about last-minute bookings. Sabrina had grown closer to him too, which really surprised him. She’d even told him a few days ago that she sometimes wished he could stay forever.

  Which was, of course, a completely crazy idea.

  Still, moving out of the B&B wasn’t going to be easy, because part of him wanted to stay with Morgan for the rest of the summer or maybe even longer. He loved coming downstairs every morning and seeing her in the kitchen or puttering around outside, usually in a tight little tee and cute pair of shorts that showcased her long, gorgeous legs. She always greeted him with a sweet smile and a quip that seemed to start the day off on the right foot.

  The truth was he loved seeing her at any time of day, though it was murder to have to be so careful with her. Ryan wanted her as much as ever, but he’d meant it when he said the ball was in her court. Unfortunately, it looked like she intended to keep that ball carefully tucked away, at least for now.

  So it was probably a good thing that his mom’s friend was letting him use her house for a month. And maybe it was time to focus a lot harder on what he was going to do with his life instead of getting so comfortable in Morgan Merrifield’s cozy little world. At this point, it was probably better for both of them if he moved out of Golden Sunset and generally moved along.

  After all, he would be leaving the island once the summer ended. Then life would get back to normal—which meant he’d see Morgan, his family, and his friends only once a year.

  He shrugged off the discomfort that came with that thought, picking up his pace. As he neared Cook’s Lobster House, he gazed across to the picturesque little harbor and bridge. The blue of the Atlantic, gently rolling in the distance, made him stop and suck in some deep breaths of fresh sea breeze. Lobster boats were everywhere in sight, both moored in the harbor and sailing on the open sea past the granite slabs of the Cribstone Bridge. It was living art that he’d seen a hundred times, serene and beautiful. And for some reason today, it stopped him dead in his tracks.

  Man, I’m really going to miss this.

  The realization hit him like a thunderbolt, mentally rocking him back on his heels. He’d always enjoyed coming home to Maine a few days every year and, yes, he loved the place. But he’d never really missed it when he was away. It was great knowing that places like Seashell Bay could still exist in the world, but he’d never had any desire to live in them. Sleepy little towns just weren’t for him.

  Now, though, the prospect of coming back for only a handful of days a year no longer seemed nearly enough.

  A gray-bearded lobster fisherman in Grundéns waved at him from the stern of his moored boat. Ryan grinned and gave the old guy a wave and a thumbs-up. Everybody waved or said hello when you passed on the road or at sea, no matter if you were an islander or a CFA. It couldn’t help but make you feel pretty good, even if a lot else might be wrong.

  In the past, every time Ryan had boarded the ferry to the mainland after a visit home, he couldn’t help feeling a sense that he was making his escape from a life that he feared would bore the hell out of him. He’d always needed his world to be bigger than a little island in Casco Bay or even a city like Portland. But now, this part of the world was starting to feel more like a refuge than a prison, someplace he really might want to be someday.

  And Ryan’s instinct told him that the unexpected feeling started and ended with Morgan.

  Chapter 15

  Her face flushed with the effort, Morgan maneuvered Holly’s wheelchair across the gangway and up the concrete ramp from the ferry to the dock. Ryan’s body tensed as he suppressed his urge to elbow his way through the teeming crowd to help her. People were coming off the jammed boat in a solid wave, many of them towing suitcases or carts, so he had to shift out of the heavy stream and wait.

  Though Morgan had been gone less than forty-eight hours, Ryan had missed her. The B&B had felt weird without her. And over a beer on the patio late last evening, Sabrina had confessed tearfully that she couldn’t even imagine her sister going back to Pickle River after all this time, and that just the thought made her sick. That hadn’t squared with what Morgan had said about her sister feeling more hopeful, but Ryan had taken Sabrina’s words to heart. He couldn’t blame her, because a lot of things felt up in the air to him too.

  “Hey there, soldier,” Holly called out as Morgan wheeled her through the throng. “It’s awesome to see you again, though these wouldn’t have been my preferred circumstances.”

  Ryan leaned down and gave Holly a warm hug. She looked as gorgeous and put together as always, but her gaze revealed both pain and fatigue from yesterday’s operation.

  He glanced down at the blue cast covering her left leg from bel
ow her knee to her toes. “Some people will do just about anything to get a few weeks off work.”

  “Jerkwad,” Holly shot back with a grin. “Just because I’m in Seashell Bay doesn’t mean I can’t work. Ever heard of the Internet?”

  “Yeah, word about it reached the island yesterday. Us rubes here in Seashell Bay hear it’s really something.” He leaned past Holly and gave Morgan a quick hug. It was one-sided and perfunctory since she didn’t let go of the wheelchair. “You put the bags in cargo?”

  “Of course. Holly doesn’t travel light,” Morgan said. “Ever.”

  Holly glanced back over her shoulder, smiling at Morgan. “Well, certainly not when I’ll be staying this long.” Then she looked at Ryan. “How wonderful is this woman anyway? I ask you, how many other people would turn over their bedroom to a friend for weeks?”

  “She’s special all right,” Ryan said, smiling at Morgan. He hadn’t been surprised that she was bringing Holly back here to recuperate. Morgan had always been like that, generous almost to a fault.

  Morgan laughed. “Oh, stop it, you two. I’m not doing anything special. Islanders always take care of each other, or don’t you fancy-pants mainlanders remember?”

  “Mainlanders?” Holly said with a smile. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, dear heart?”

  When Morgan’s gaze went flat, Ryan figured she was thinking about her teaching career up on the mainland.

  She seemed to shrug it off. “There’s the luggage now,” she said brightly as deckhands wheeled several polyethylene-wrapped carts off the boat. “I’ll grab it.”

  “Hold on,” Ryan said. “Just show me which ones are Holly’s.”

  “Take your time,” Holly said. “I’m perfectly happy just sitting here and enjoying the sun and the lovely sea air. In Boston, I sometimes forget what it’s like.”

  “Yeah, nothing beats the combination of stinky bait and diesel fuel down here by the dock.” Ryan grinned at Holly before following Morgan to the cargo carts.

  “You can grab those two.” Morgan pointed to a matched set of hard-shell suitcases in some plaid pattern. “I’ll get the other one.” She reached into the cart and pulled up a stuffed garment bag. “Oh, and we can’t forget the crutches.”