A beach house beginning, p.1
A Beach House Beginning, page 1
Praise for RaeAnne Thayne
“Seamless, graceful, gritty and big-hearted as only RaeAnne Thayne can do. I couldn’t put it down.”
—Kristan Higgins, #1 New York Times bestselling author, on 15 Summers Later
“RaeAnne Thayne will capture your heart with her beautiful, touching stories.”
—Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Virgin River series
“[Thayne’s] books are wonderfully romantic, feel-good reads that end with me sighing over the last pages.”
—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
Dear Reader,
What an honor it is to be part of Harlequin’s 75th anniversary celebration. No other publisher has so consistently been focused on stories of people opening their hearts to love, despite all the many obstacles they may face. For decades, Harlequin has been gracing bookshelves around the world with enchanting stories filled with swoon-worthy heroes and captivating heroines. I’m delighted to play a small part in remembering all the things that make Harlequin books so special—the promise of love, the thrill of unexpected twists and the satisfaction of happily-ever-after.
The anniversary celebration seemed a perfect chance for me to finish off my Women of Brambleberry House series. Through the six books in the series, I have come to adore this rambling old house by the seashore. Returning to it feels like coming home for me and I hope my readers feel the same. I have loved revisiting old friends and making new ones!
Thank you for being part of this incredible journey, and here’s to many more years of shared stories, cherished moments and the enduring power of love.
All my very best,
RaeAnne
A Beach House Beginning
New York Times Bestselling Author
RaeAnne Thayne
FREE STORY BY MICHELLE LINDO-RICE
Table of Contents
A Beach House Beginning by RaeAnne Thayne
A Beauty in the Beast by Michelle Lindo-Rice
Excerpt from A Murderer Among Us by Heather Graham
A Beach House Beginning
RaeAnne Thayne
New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where she lives with her family. Her books have won numerous honors, including six RITA® Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and Career Achievement and Romance Pioneer Awards from RT Book Reviews. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at raeannethayne.com.
Also by RaeAnne Thayne
The Cafe at Beach End
All Is Bright
Summer at the Cape
Sleigh Bells Ring
The Path to Sunshine Cove
Christmas at Holiday House
The Sea Glass Cottage
Coming Home for Christmas
The Cliff House
Season of Wonder
A Beach House Beginning
Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To all the hundreds of people at Harlequin who work with such passion and heart to get our books into the hands of our amazing readers. Thank you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
A Q&A with RaeAnne Thayne
Chapter One
“Jenna? Are you still there?”
Jenna Haynes slowly lowered herself to one of the kitchen chairs of her apartment on the second floor of Brambleberry House. Her cell phone nearly slipped from fingers that suddenly trembled.
“I...yes. I’m here.” Her voice sounded hollow, thready.
“I know this must be coming as a shock to you.” Angela Terry, the prosecuting attorney who had worked on the Oregon part of her case, spoke in a low, calming voice. “Believe me, we were all stunned, too. I never expected this. I’m sorry to call you so early but I wanted to reach out to you as soon as we heard the news.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Seriously, what a shock. It’s so hard to believe, when Barker was only halfway through his sentence. Who expects a guy in the prime of his life to go to sleep in his cell one night and never wake up? You know what they say. Karma drives a big bus and she knows everybody’s address.”
Jenna didn’t know how to answer, still trying to process the stunning news that the man she had feared for three years was truly gone.
On the heels of her shock came an overwhelming relief. A man was dead. She couldn’t forget that. Still, the man had made her life a nightmare for a long time.
“You’re...you’re positive he’s dead?”
“The warden called me to confirm it himself, as soon as the medical examiner determined it was from natural causes. An aneurysm.”
“An aneurysm? Seriously?”
“That’s what the warden said. Who knows, Barker might have had a brain anomaly all along. What else would cause a decorated police officer to go off the rails like he did and spend years stalking, threatening and finally attacking you and others?”
Jenna fought down an instinctive shiver as the terrifying events of two years earlier crawled out from the lockbox of memories where she tried to store them for safekeeping.
Dead. The boogeyman who had haunted her nightmares for so long was gone.
She still couldn’t quite believe it, even hearing it from a woman she trusted and admired, a woman who had fought hard to make sure Aaron Barker would remain behind bars for the maximum allowable sentence, which had been entirely too short a time as far as Jenna was concerned.
Jenna didn’t know how she was supposed to feel, now that she knew he couldn’t get out in a few years to pick up where he left off.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”
The concern in her voice warmed Jenna. Angela had been an unending source of calm and comfort, even during the most stressful of times during the trial.
“No. I’m glad you called. I appreciate it.”
Slowly, her brain seemed to reengage and she remembered the polite niceties she owed this woman who had fought with such fierce determination for her.
“You didn’t wake me,” she assured Angela. “I have school this morning.”
“Oh good. I was hoping I didn’t catch you while you were sleeping in on your first day of summer vacation or something.”
“One more week for that,” Jenna answered. “I’m just fixing breakfast for Addie.”
“How is my little buddy? Tell her we need to get together soon for a Mario Kart rematch. No way can I let a seven-year-old get the better of me.”
“Eight. She turned eight last month.”
“Already? Dang. I can’t believe I missed her birthday. I’ll have to send her something.”
“You don’t have to do that, Angela. You’ve done so much already for us. I can never thank you enough for everything. I mean that.”
“Well, we still need to get together and catch up. It’s been too long.”
“Yes. I would love that. I’ll only be working part-time at the gift shop this summer so my schedule is much more flexible than during the school year.”
“We’ll do it. We can have Rosa join us. I’ll set up a text string and we can work out details.”
“Thank you for telling me about Aaron.”
“I know you had been worrying about his possible release next year,” the other woman said, her voice gentle. “I hope that knowing he can’t ever bother you again goes a little way toward taking a weight off your heart.”
“It does. I can’t even tell you how much.”
They spoke for a few more moments before ending the call with promises to make plans later in the summer.
Jenna set her phone on the table slowly, released a heavy sigh and then covered her face with her hands.
Dead.
She didn’t quite know how to react.
Since the arrest and conviction eighteen months ago of the man who had tormented her for years, she had been bracing herself for the moment when he might be released, when she might have to pick up her daughter again and flee.
She had hated the idea of it.
Brambleberry House, this beautiful rambling beach house on the dramatic coastline of northern Oregon, had become a haven for them. She had finally begun to rebuild her life here, to feel safe again and...happy.
Lurking at the edge of her consciousness, though, like the dark, far-off blur of an impending storm, was the grim realization that someday she might have to leave everything once more and start again somewhere else.
Now she didn’t have to.
She wiped away tears she hadn’t even realized were coursing down her cheeks.
He was gone. They were free.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
She t urned to find her daughter in the doorway, wearing shorts, a ruffled T-shirt and a frown.
Jenna gave a laugh and reached for Addie, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything is terrific. Really terrific.”
Her perceptive child wasn’t fooled. She eased away, narrowing her gaze. “What’s going on?”
Jenna didn’t want to talk about Aaron Barker. She didn’t want Addie to have to think about the man who had threatened them both, who had completely upended their lives simply because he couldn’t have what he wanted.
“Nothing.” She gave a reassuring smile. “I’m just happy, that’s all. It’s a beautiful day, school will be out next week and summer is right around the corner. Now hurry and finish your breakfast so we can get to school. I could use your help carrying the cupcakes for my class.”
Addie still didn’t look convinced. Sometimes she seemed far too wise for her eight years on the earth. Apparently she decided not to push the matter.
“Can I have one of the cupcakes? You said I could when we were frosting them last night.”
The cupcakes were a treat for her class, a reward for everyone meeting their reading goals for the year.
Jenna pointed to the counter, at a covered container near the microwave. “I’ve got two there for us. I was going to save them for dessert later tonight after dinner, but I suddenly feel like celebrating. Let’s have a cupcake.”
Addie’s eyes widened with shock and then delight. She reached for the container and pulled out one of the chocolate cupcakes, biting into it quickly as if afraid Jenna would change her mind.
“You still have to eat your egg bites and your cantaloupe,” Jenna warned.
“I don’t care. Cupcakes for breakfast is the best idea ever.”
She couldn’t disagree, Jenna thought as she finished hers, as well as her own healthier breakfast. Still, the call was at the forefront of her thoughts as she hurried through the rest of her preparations for the school day.
Twenty minutes later, she juggled her laptop bag, a box of cupcakes and a stack of math papers she had graded the evening before.
She couldn’t help humming a song as she walked out of her apartment, Addie right behind her.
A man stood on the landing outside her apartment, hand on the banister. He was big, dark, muscular, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a motorcycle helmet under his arm.
For one ridiculous moment, her heart skipped a beat, as it always did when she saw her new upstairs neighbor. Her song died and she immediately felt foolish.
“Morning,” he said, voice gruff.
“Um. Hi.”
“You’ve got your arms full. Can I help you carry something?”
“No. I’ve got it,” she said, her voice more clipped than she intended.
His eyes darkened slightly at her abrupt tone. Something flickered in his expression, something hard and dangerous, but he merely nodded and gestured for them to go ahead of him down the stairs.
Did he guess she was afraid of him? Jenna had tried to hide it, but she strongly suspected she hadn’t been very successful.
“Come on, Addie.”
Her daughter, who seemed to have none of Jenna’s instinctive fear of big, tough, ruthless-looking men with more ink than charm, smiled and waved at him.
“Bye, Mr. Calhoun. I hope you have a happy day.”
He looked nonplussed. “Thanks. Same to you.”
Jenna led their little procession down the central staircase of Brambleberry House, which featured private entrances to the three apartments, one on each floor.
As she hurried outside, she couldn’t help wondering again what Rosa Galvez Townsend had been thinking to rent the space to this man.
She had heard the rumors about Wes Calhoun. He had a daughter who attended her school, and while Brielle was a grade older and wasn’t in Jenna’s class, the girl’s teacher was one of Jenna’s closest friends.
Teachers gossip as much as, if not more than, other populations. As soon as Wes Calhoun rode into town on his motorcycle, leather jacket, tattoos and all, Jenna had learned he was an ex-con only released a few months earlier from prison in the Chicago area.
Learning he would be her new upstairs neighbor had been unsettling and upsetting.
Rosa—who functioned as landlady for her aunt Anna and Anna’s friend Sage, owners of the house—assured her he was a friend of Wyatt, Rosa’s husband, and perfectly harmless. He had been wrongfully convicted three years earlier and had been completely cleared, his record expunged.
That didn’t set her mind at ease. At all. She would have found the man intimidating even if she hadn’t known he was only a few months out of prison.
She hurried Addie to her small SUV, loaded the cupcakes into the cargo area and made sure Addie was safely belted into the back.
As she slid behind the wheel, Jenna watched Wes climb onto his sleek, black, death trap of a motorcycle parked beside her and fasten his helmet.
While he started up the bike, he didn’t go anywhere, just waited, boots on the driveway. He was waiting for her, she realized.
Aware of his gaze on her, steely and unflinching, she turned the key in the ignition.
Instead of purring to life, the car only gave an ominous click.
She tried it a second time, with the same results, then a third.
No. Oh no. This wasn’t happening. She was already running late.
Normally she and Addie could ride bikes the mile and a half to the school, but not when she had two dozen cupcakes to deliver!
Hoping against hope, she tried it a few more times, with the same futile click.
“What’s wrong?” Addie asked.
“I’m not sure. The car isn’t starting, for some reason.”
A sudden knock at her window made her jump. Without power, she couldn’t lower the window, so she opened the door a crack.
“Having trouble?” Wes Calhoun looked at her with concern.
She wanted to tell him no, that she was a strong, independent woman who could handle her own problems. But what she knew about cars could probably fit inside one spark plug. If cars even had spark plugs anymore, which she suspected they didn’t.
“You could say that. It won’t start. I’m not getting anything but clicks.”
“Sounds like it might be your battery. Do you know how old it is?”
“No. I bought the car used two years ago. It was three years old then. I have no idea how old the battery is. I do know I haven’t replaced it.”
“Pop the hood and I’ll take a look at it.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can call road service.”
He gave her a long look. “You seemed in a hurry this morning. Do you have time to wait for road service? If it’s your battery, I can give you a jump and get you on the road in only a few minutes.”
She glanced at her watch. The phone call with Angela had thrown off her whole morning schedule. She was already going to be late, without adding in a potentially long wait for road service.
“Thank you. I would appreciate a jump, if you don’t mind. Can you jump a car with a motorcycle, though?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried. I was talking about my truck.”
He had an old blue pickup truck, she knew. He drove that on the frequent days of rain along the Oregon Coast.
“Right.”
“Let’s take a look first under the hood. Can you pop it for me?”
She fumbled beneath the steering wheel to find the right lever that would release the hood, then climbed out just as Wes was taking off his leather jacket and setting it on the seat of his motorcycle.
The plain black T-shirt he wore underneath showed off muscular biceps and the tattoos that adorned them.
As he bent over the engine, worn jeans hugging his behind, his T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing a few inches of his muscular back. Her stomach tingled and Jenna swallowed and looked away, appalled at herself for having an instinctive reaction to a man who left her so jumpy.
“Yep. Looks like you need a new battery. I’ll give you a quick jump so you can make it to work. If you want, I can pick up another battery and put it in for you this evening.”
