Beach House for Rent (Beach House #4)

“It’s a shame we need a purpose just to have a nice time,” Flo admitted. “Sad state of affairs.”

“As long as we get her out,” Emmi said. “Okay, I’m taking her to Bowens Island for dinner tomorrow night. She and Brett used to go there all the time back when—well, you know.”

“That’s real nice, dear,” Flo said. “It’ll bring back pleasant memories for her. Next week I’ll take her to Middleton Place. She’s been yammering for years about wanting to go back to see the gardens.”

They looked at Heather expectantly.

“Cara told me she fell in love with Brett on Capers Island. It was their place. So Bo said he’d take us there in his boat.”

Emmi’s face softened. “Oh, what a good idea! Capers is so romantic. That was their first time out together, even before they started dating. Then later . . .” Emmi looked to the ceiling and laughed. “Unless, of course, you want to know where they really fell in love. You’d have to find Brett’s secret hammock.” She raised her brows knowingly. “It was where he took all his girlfriends, I heard. But I doubt even Cara could find it on her own. He was pretty closemouthed about that place.”

“Don’t listen to her. Capers is perfect,” Flo said with an amused roll of her eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if we should go on the ecotour boat,” said Heather. “I thought that might hit a bit too close to home.”

“Good decision,” Emmi said.

“The point is that we take her to places that have good memories of time she spent with Brett. And just get her outside.” Heather sighed. “It’s so strange for me to see Cara holed up inside when that person is usually me.”

“We won’t let that happen,” said Emmi, and raised her glass. “Here’s to the plan.”

“Wait a minute!” Heather exclaimed. “It’s bad luck to toast if I don’t have a glass.” She ran to the kitchen and returned with a glass of white wine. The three women clinked glasses.

“Starting without me!” Cara’s voice sang out as she entered the room.

Startled, the women swung around, each hoping Cara hadn’t heard their discussion. She was wearing her black shift dress again, and it hung like a sack on her skinny body. But her hair was washed and hung down to her shoulders in a thick, luxurious mass. Her dark eyes glittered at seeing her friends gathered together, the first sign of real life Heather had seen in her since she’d moved back into Primrose.

Emmi and Flo took turns hugging Cara and exclaiming how wonderful she looked. Heather took the moment to slip into the kitchen and pour a glass of white wine for Cara. Returning, she basked in the sight of the three women, heads bent toward one another, talking away. The love and attachment they shared was obvious.

When Heather had gone to Emmi and Flo’s house earlier in the week to ask for their help, the women had come on board with boundless enthusiasm. They’d sat on Flo’s back porch overlooking the ocean and sipped sweet tea while they came up with ideas.

It was then that Emmi had shared how Cara had been her rock during her heartbreaking divorce from her husband and the subsequent sale of her family beach house. Flo told the story of how Cara had saved her from having to sell her family home by arranging for Emmi to come in and buy it with the money from her divorce settlement. Flo stayed on as a roommate. Sharing the house had meant neither of them had to live alone or leave the beach where they both had spent their lives. The three women had been lifelong friends and had been through thick and thin together. Cara had always been there for them. And it was crystal clear to Heather that both Emmi and Flo would go to the moon and back for Cara.

Heather stepped forward and offered Cara a glass of wine, happy to see her more animated among her friends. Cara’s husky laugh was music to her ears. They pulled together to bring dinner to the table—Greek lamb, tabouli, and a green salad. They lit the candles, turned on music—Heather had selected Ingrid Michaelson for the evening—poured more wine, and settled in for some good old vintage girl talk.

It wasn’t long before they came to their favorite topic—sea turtles.

“It’s busy out there,” Emmi said with a gusty sigh. “We’re having one of our best seasons in ages, but we’re having a hard time keeping up. And that’s with a full team. Now you’re gone and I don’t know what we’ll do when Tee goes to Thailand next month. We’ll be down two team members just as the nests start to hatch.” She looked to Cara.

Cara looked down at her plate.

Flo picked up the baton. “Well, I’m getting too old to run around to multiple nests in the morning, and my eyesight isn’t good enough at night to help y’all much. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Mornings with the new nests and nights with the hatching nests. . . .” Flo shook her head. “Cara,” she said, looking Cara in the eyes. “I know it’s still soon after Brett’s passing, but coming outside to the beach, getting involved again—that’ll be good for you. Take your mind off your grief and give you something positive to do. Not to mention”—her blue eyes shone with appeal—“we really need you out there.”

Cara ran her hand through her hair, her face agonized. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Sure you are. And I’ll help. I’ll keep doing the paperwork until you say so. Does that make a difference?”

Cara looked up at her friends. “Tee’s leaving?”

Hearing her wavering, Emmi nodded vigorously. “For a month. And next to you, she’s our eagle eye for finding the eggs. Please, Cara. The turtle team needs you.”

“Oh, all right,” Cara said with a defeated laugh. “I can’t win against all of you.”

Emmi squealed and leaped from her chair to hug Cara. “Honey, don’t you know? Just by you saying yes, we all won.”





Chapter Twenty-One




IT FELT GOOD to be back on the turtle team. Walking the beaches every morning, searching for turtle tracks, answering calls from the volunteers who had found tracks themselves, all gave Cara’s life renewed purpose. At night when one of the nests hatched and more than a hundred tiny turtles emerged from the sand, flippers waving, tumbling one over the other as they poured out en masse in a race to the sea, she felt each one of the hatchlings was her baby. She’d shepherd the hatchlings until they met the surf, keeping them safe from predators. That was where her protection ended, where land ended and sea began. Once the hatchlings crossed that border, they entered a world where she could not follow.

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