Sanctuary Cove Read online

  “How long are you staying?”

  “I’m leaving New Year’s Eve. I promised the kids I’d be back in time to bring in the new year with them.” Extending her arms, Deborah hugged Mabel.

  She left the Muffin Corner, stopping again at the vacant store on Moss Alley that was soon to be the new home of The Parlor bookstore.

  Chapter Two

  Asa Monroe was sitting at a bistro table outside of the Muffin Corner sipping his coffee when he saw the woman with the infectious smile walk out and head in the opposite direction. Her smile was like a ray of sunshine, spreading over her face and lighting up her eyes. And that body… Asa couldn’t take his gaze off of her. She was the first woman to intrigue him since his arrival in Sanctuary Cove. As soon as she disappeared from his line of vision, he got up and walked back into the pastry shop, curiosity getting the best of him.

  “Can I help you with something else?” Mabel Kelly asked when he dropped the empty cup into a plastic-lined wastebasket, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “The lady that was just in here… I—”

  “You must be talking about Mrs. Robinson?”

  Asa nodded. Mabel referring to her as Mrs. Robinson meant that she was married, even though he’d noticed she hadn’t worn a ring. “This is the first time I’ve seen her. I was wondering if she lives here.”

  “Deborah,” she paused, amusement crossing her features, “just told me that she’s moving to the Cove permanently come the first of the year. She and I were what kids nowadays call BFFs. I used to count down the days when school was out for her to come from Charleston to stay on the Cove with her grandmother. And once the summer was over and school started we would cry like we were never going to see each other again.”

  “Did you ever stop crying?” Asa joked.

  Throwing back her head, Mabel laughed. “The year we turned twelve we decided we were too old to cry and stopped.”

  “Did you stay in touch after summer vacation ended?” Asa didn’t know why he continued to question Mabel about Deborah Robinson, because after all she was a married woman.

  Mabel nodded. “We designed our own greeting cards with peel-off stickers and mailed them to each other.”

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I’m one of seven, so with six other kids in the house the phone was always busy, unlike today when kids have their own cell phones.”

  The tinkling of the wind chime preempted Asa from asking another question. He smiled at Mabel. “Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Turning on his heel, he nodded to Eddie Wilkes, editor of the Sanctuary Chronicle, the island’s biweekly newspaper.

  Rather than return to the bench outside, he headed in the direction of the beach. His routine since his arrival on the island had become predictable. After lunch he came to the Muffin Corner for coffee, then spent the next hour strolling along the beach. This was nothing like his demanding lifestyle in Dover, Delaware. Sanctuary Cove had no fast food restaurants, malls, department stores, traffic jams, or even street lights. Life was slow, laidback and stress-free.

  When he’d come to Cavanaugh Island nearly two months ago, Asa wasn’t certain what he’d been looking for until he’d checked into the Cove Inn. What he needed was peace. Staring out the window of his suite he saw palmetto trees, a stretch of beach, and the ocean—a landscape so different from the one in the Dover suburb where he’d lived and practiced medicine. Even the air smelled different.

  The hardest thing for Asa to get used to was the quiet. As soon as the sun set it was as if Sanctuary Cove went to sleep. Even those who sat on the benches at the town square talked quietly to each other, as if they didn’t want disturb the stillness of the evening. He’d heard sounds that were completely foreign to his ears, and when he’d asked someone about roaring noises he was told they came from the alligators in a nearby swamp.

  A friend had accused him of running away when he’d closed his medical practice and sold his house. What his friend didn’t understand was that he couldn’t stay there any longer, not with the memories of his family haunting him relentlessly. It was as if he could still hear his son’s childish laughter through the halls, or his wife’s knocking on his home office door to tell him dinner was ready. The only time they hadn’t sat down to eat as a family was the one night a week when he offered evening hours. A shudder worked its way through Asa, and he shook his head trying to cleanse his mind of the past.

  November made it a year since he’d lost his wife and son in a horrific automobile accident, when the car she’d been driving skidded off an icy road. A year in which he’d become a widower and a nomad, traveling from state to state, city to city while awaiting approval of his application to Doctors Without Borders.

  Sanctuary Cove had become just that—a sanctuary—because it was here that he’d discovered the peace that had eluded him since that fateful day when he’d lost the two people he loved most.

  Reaching into her handbag, Deborah took out the key to the vacant storefront that had been mailed to her along with the executed lease. She unlocked the front door, leaving it open, and flipped a wall switch. Track lighting cast a warm glow over the empty space with walls painted a soft, calming pistachio green.

  She had lost track of the number of times she’d been inside the gift shop, and when she’d spoken to the agent handling the property she knew unequivocally that she wanted to rent the store. She’d met with the agent in Charleston, signed the necessary documents, and written checks to cover the rent for the first and last month of a two-year lease. She figured she’d know within two years if the bookstore would be a success. If not, she would go out of business and apply for a teaching position at the local school.

  Deborah felt a shiver of excitement as she envisioned shelves stacked with books, tables, chairs, loveseats, and floor and table lamps that would reflect the bookstore’s name. There was enough space for the concert piano that had once belonged to her maternal grandmother, and for cozy reading corners.

  A door at the back led to a staircase. Deborah counted nine steps before she stood on a landing that opened out to a studio-type apartment. An antique iron bed, sans mattress, occupied one corner, a sofa and matching chair filled another; there was an efficiency kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, and sink. A table with two chairs made up the dining area, and when she opened a door she discovered a small bathroom. She touched a wall switch and light from a floor lamp cast a soft glow over the dust-covered floor. Two grimy windows faced Main Street and another two overlooked Moss Alley. The walls were off-white and like those on the first floor appeared as if they had been recently painted.

  She opened one more door to a flight of stairs that led down to the rear of the store. The apartment needed a good cleaning, but with a new mattress for the bed and a wardrobe to store clothes it would be in move-in condition should she decide to rent out the space. Closing that door, she walked to the other entrance, leaving the imprint of her shoes in the dust as she descended the staircase to the first floor. Stepping outside, she locked her new bookstore and walked back to Jack’s Fish House.

  About twenty minutes later, Deborah unlocked the door to her house, shouldering it open as she cradled a large paper sack to her chest. Something told her that Luvina had added to her takeout order. The buildup of heat inside the two-story, three-bedroom house was overwhelming. Placing the bags on a table in the narrow entryway, she began opening the windows on the first floor. One window in the dining room resisted her efforts before she remembered it was the one Louis had promised to repair.

  She raced up the staircase and opened windows in the bedrooms. An ocean breeze filtered through the screens, gently lifting the sheers; within minutes the scent of salt water had dispelled the slightly musty smell. Five weeks. It’d been five weeks since she’d prepared a meal in the kitchen or slept in the queen-sized bed, but so much had changed in that time that it could have been five years.

  Blowing out her breath, she retraced her steps to put away the food she�
��d ordered from Jack’s. She was right. Luvina had added containers of shrimp, nut and apple, and potato salads.

  There was also a Styrofoam container with fried chicken and Jack’s celebrated poppin’ fried shrimp.

  “Thank you, Miss Vina,” she whispered. It was obvious Luvina wasn’t going to let her go hungry.

  Deborah opened the refrigerator, storing the containers. Boxes of baking soda had kept it fresh smelling, although she’d also emptied it of all foodstuffs before leaving after the Thanksgiving weekend. The refrigerator had been left running because they’d planned to return to spend Christmas and the school recess on the island.

  She mentally outlined what she needed to do, but first things first. She called Barbara to check on her children, and was told they had gone bowling with Barbara’s son and daughter. Deborah hung up, not wanting to appear an anxious, clinging mother.

  As soon as she ended the call, her cell phone rang. Deborah smiled when she recognized the number on the display. It was the real-estate broker handling the sale of her home. “Hi, Sherilee. Please give me some good news.”

  “I have very good news. A young couple with twin boys met your asking price. Believe it or not, I’m sitting here staring at a bank check for the full amount.”

  “What!”

  “You heard me.”

  “What did they do? Rob a bank?”

  “Close,” Sherilee crooned. “Her father owns a bank. He wanted her to buy some monstrosity with double-digit rooms, but she’d grown up in what amounts to a mansion and she didn’t want that for her children.”

  Deborah’s smile was dazzling. “Good for her and good for me.” Her house hadn’t been on the market two weeks and she had a buyer. That also meant she had to pack up eighteen years of memories. She also had to pack up her store and make arrangements to have the books and shelves transported to Sanctuary Cove. “When do you think we’ll close?”

  “I’m hoping it will happen within two weeks.”

  “Whether it happens or not, I’m still moving.”

  “I understand why you’re doing it, Deborah,” Sherilee said sadly before continuing. “On a happier note, I also have some more good news. I just handled the sale of a house that belonged to an eighty-eight-year-old woman. Her great-grandchildren found a couple of boxes of old books in a closet, some dating back to the thirties and forties. I immediately thought of you. They were going to throw them out, but I managed to salvage them. They’re here in my cubicle if you want them.”

  Deborah could hardly contain her excitement. “Sherilee, I love you for looking out for me.”

  “Come on, Deborah. We go way back, and I know you’d do the same for me.”

  “You know I would,” she said with complete sincerity. Deborah and Sherilee had been roommates at Bennington College. Both were southern girls away from home for the first time, and during their second year they began a friendship that had lasted two decades.

  “When are you coming back to Charleston?”

  “I’d planned to return New Year’s Eve, but it looks like I’m coming back sooner. I have to arrange to have the house and bookstore packed up.”

  “What are you going to do with your furniture?” Sherilee asked.

  “I’m going to take mostly personal items like china, silver, crystal, and a few chairs for the bookstore, and donate the rest. I’ll red tag everything I’m taking to the Cove, so if there is something you want feel free to take it.”

  “I have a former client who lost practically everything in a house fire. Would you mind if I picked up some things for her?” Sherilee asked. “What makes things so difficult is that she just went through a very nasty divorce and her ex won’t give her one penny above what he pays for child support.”

  The house on the Cove was fully furnished; she’d had the plumbing and wiring updated and had replaced all the floors two years ago. The refrigerator, washer, and dryer were less than a year old and only one window in the dining room needed repair.

  “As soon as I get back and inventory the house she can come over and pick out what she needs.”

  “God bless you, Deborah.”

  Again a rush of tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “He has, Sherilee. I’ll call you when I get back to Charleston.” She ended the call before breaking down completely.

  During the moments when she didn’t wallow in self-pity, Deborah realized although she’d lost her husband she was grateful she still had her children. Her own mother had miscarried three times before she was able to carry to term, resulting in Deborah’s birth. Pearl Williams had tried again to have another child, but when she miscarried a fourth time she opted for a hysterectomy.

  Bringing her legs up, Deborah rested her feet on the edge of the chair, buried her head on her knees, and cried. She cried for what was and would never be again. She cried until she was spent, then got up and went into the half-bath off the kitchen to splash cold water on her face. No more crying, no more self-pity. She had to be strong for herself and her children. They were depending on her to take care of them and she would. It was something she’d promised the first time she’d held her son and daughter in her arms.

  Later, lying in bed, Deborah’s mind continued to wander, making her restless. Rolling over onto her belly she closed her eyes, willing sleep to claim her tired mind and exhausted body. She counted slowly, reaching one hundred sixty-three, and she was still wide awake. After tossing and turning restlessly, she got out of bed and went downstairs to make a cup of hot chocolate. The warm liquid managed to relax her enough that when she got back into bed she fell asleep within minutes of her head touching the pillow.

  “What are you doing, Barbara?” Deborah asked when she was practically pushed out the door. She’d gotten up early to make the trip to Charleston and pick up the kids from Barbara’s house, but barely had a chance to ring the bell before Barbara’s front door flew open.

  “Keep your voice down. We have to talk—at your house. Please.”

  She’d never known her friend to plead for anything, and there was a look in her eyes that indicated something was wrong. “Okay.”

  Moments later, Deborah sat opposite Barbara on matching loveseats in her family room. “You want me to tell your husband that I’m inviting you and your children to Sanctuary Cove for New Year’s Eve?”

  Barbara nodded, a wealth of salt-and-pepper twists moving around her round face with the motion. The registered nurse had begun graying at nineteen and now at forty was almost completely gray. “My numbskull of a husband is talking about hosting an open house get-together at our place. And, you know who he wants to invite?”

  Deborah rolled her eyes upward. “Don’t tell me some of the high school teachers?”

  “Exactly. I don’t know what Terrell was thinking about. He knows I’d invited you to spend the holiday with us.”

  Clasping her hands between her denim-covered knees, Deborah leaned forward. Terrell Nash was a guidance counselor and assistant football coach at the same school where Louis had taught math. “It’s not the end of the world, Barbara. I can stay home.”

  “No!”

  “Yes!”

  “I’m not going to let you stay home by yourself. It’s too soon.”

  “Too soon for what? And what are you afraid of, Barbara? That I’m going to become unhinged and harm myself because this will be the first New Year’s Eve in twenty years that I’ll spend alone?” Biting her lip, Barbara nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

  “There’s no way I’m going to suck up to a bunch of fake-ass people because they just happen to work with my husband. I’ve been trying to change his mind. The only consolation is he still hasn’t called anyone to invite them to drop in for drinks and hors d’oeuvres.”

  “Not dealing with Louis’s former colleagues is my choice. It shouldn’t be yours.”

  “I made it mine, Deborah, when some of them got in my face because I’d defended Louis. And now my husband wa
nts to invite these hypocrites into my home. What the hell is he thinking?” Barbara enunciated each word. “And you know how my kids love going to Sanctuary Cove.”

  Deborah stared at her friend. If she’d had a sister she would’ve wanted her to be Barbara Nash. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if her neighbor hadn’t run interference for her when members of the press camped outside her door, seeking photographs of her and her children once the girl whom Louis was allegedly involved with had revealed she was pregnant. Barbara had called her police officer brother, who had threatened the media with trespassing if they didn’t leave Deborah’s property. And it was Barbara who fed Whitney and Crystal when Deborah couldn’t get out of bed, and Barbara who had been with her when she went to the morgue to identify Louis’s body.

  “Okay. I’m officially inviting you and your family to Sanctuary Cove for the New Year’s weekend. We’ll take my car and Whitney’s. That way you won’t have to pay the outrageous parking permit fee.”

  Barbara’s light brown eyes sparkled like newly minted copper pennies, and a smile spread across her tawny brown face. “I’ve already shopped for food, so I’ll pack up everything in cooler chests and bring it along.”

  “Do you think Terrell will go along with this?”

  “All he has to hear is ‘Sanctuary Cove’ and he’s in the car ready to go.”

  Deborah nodded. It was Wednesday and it’d been two days since she’d spoken to Sherilee. She would’ve spent the week on the Cove, but had decided to come back to Charleston earlier than Friday to start packing up the house. “We’ll leave Friday morning after noon.”

  Deborah sat staring at the photos on the fireplace mantle after she heard the door close behind her neighbor. The house was eerily silent without Crystal and Whitney. Whenever they were home the refrigerator door opened and closed like an accordion, music spilled out from ear buds and clatter filled the kitchen, since they preferred doing their homework at the dining table instead of at the desks in their bedrooms. The instant Deborah announced dinner was ready the books would disappear and together they’d wash up and set the table.