Page 1 of California Dreaming

Chapter One

Archer Davenport gazed out at the beach below the town of Carmel-by-the-Sea and took a deep breath of the salt-tinged sea air. The waves were often huge, crashing into the shore, but today the water lapped gently on the sand. He didn’t have much time in town, and he craved a walk on the beach before he had to leave his favorite place on earth and head back to Hollywood.

He pulled off his shoes and socks, rolled up the cuffs of his jeans, and let his toes squish into the soft, golden sand, just the way he had for more than thirty of his thirty-four years. He loved Carmel, loved it more than anything he could think of, except for his family. Coming home for his dad’s sixty-fourth birthday party had given him the excuse he needed to get away from filming in LA for a couple of days.

Arch was at the point in his acting career where he could pick and choose his roles. At present, he was having the time of his life remaking a famous buddy Western with his real-life friend Smith Sullivan. Smith was playing the older, wiser gentleman train robber, while Arch was playing the younger, devil-may-care character who ran headfirst into danger and worried about the consequences later. Apart from the Western garb and the steam trains, it wasn’t so different from their relationship in real life.

He grinned, watching the dogs running free on one of the few truly dog-friendly beaches in the US. Somehow, without it being explicitly said, all of the dog owners made sure to pick up after their dogs and also knew to bring only friendly dogs that wouldn’t get into fights. Before Arch’s career had taken off, he used to love to come down to the beach to walk the family dog, Buster, and soak in the joy of watching dogs running with their ears flapping in the wind and their tails wagging as they met other dogs.

He knew a few of the people on the beach by sight and took the time to say quick hellos. In most places around the world, he needed to wear a ball cap and sunglasses so that he wasn’t constantly bombarded by requests for selfies. He was beyond grateful for his fans and knew it was the price he paid to be one of the hottest actors in Hollywood. But sometimes he just wanted to walk on the beach in peace. One of the best things about Carmel-by-the-Sea was that there were so many celebrities here—the legendary Clint Eastwood had been mayor for nearly a decade—and the town culture was to leave famous people alone. Amazingly, even the tourists mostly picked up that basic courtesy.

Just then, he heard the click of a smartphone camera and knew someone had caught on to his identity, but apart from that snatched photograph, he was left in peace. At least until a shaggy white dog spotted him, ran up fresh from the sea, and shook itself, depositing a spray of sandy seawater all over Arch. Then the dog dropped a slobbery red ball at his feet and barked an instruction for Arch to throw it.

Obeying the dog’s command, he picked up the ball and lobbed it into the edge of the surf. As the dog went careening after it, Arch kept walking, giving a cheerful wave to its owner.

Coming toward him was a sprightly older lady with a cast on her arm. He had known Margaret Percy all his life. She owned one of the historic fairy-tale cottages built by Hugh Comstock that was a couple of blocks back from the beach. Margaret was one of Arch’s favorite people in Carmel. In her early eighties, she was always off on some adventure or another. There might be a large age difference between them, but deep down they recognized each other as kindred souls.

They were both daredevils.

Margaret was walking with a much younger woman. A woman who made him feel like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs just from looking at her.

Arch mingled with celebrities every day. He worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world, all of whom had makeup, hair, costume, and lighting designers to enhance their looks. But all of those famous women left him cold. Whereas this one, with her blue jeans and navy hoodie, her dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, had something about her that drew him. She hadn’t done a thing to enhance her looks—in fact, the only thing on her face even close to makeup was a little gloss on her full lips. Her eyes were big and blue and framed by dark, spiky lashes.

And he couldn’t stop staring.

When she turned her gaze on him, he saw the moment that she recognized him, because her eyes widened ever so slightly. A moment later, however, she seemed to realize she was staring and looked toward the ocean.

“Margaret,” he said, turning his attention back to his friend. “Sorry to see you in a cast. Don’t tell me you were performing with Cirque du Soleil again?”

Margaret chuckled, the laughter of a woman who clearly made it a point to enjoy every second of her life. “Don’t give me ideas. That’s something I’ve never done. At least, not yet. No, this is nothing so exciting. I was dancing the tango in Buenos Aires and tripped over my own high heels. Broke my arm.”

“Ouch,” he said. And then, “Although I’m pretty sure dancing the tango in Buenos Aires counts as something exciting.” Though they had been walking in opposite directions, he turned around to walk with them.

“I take it you’re back from Hollywood to celebrate your father’s birthday?”

He laughed. “Was it the balloons, the massive sign hanging across the front of the house, or the sixty-four pink plastic flamingos on the lawn that gave it away?”

“Subtle is something you Davenports certainly aren’t,” Margaret agreed with a chuckle. “In any case, I was very pleased to get an invitation to the party. I’m looking forward to tonight.” Then she turned to her companion. “What am I thinking? I should have introduced the two of you right away. Archer Davenport, this is Tessa Taylor.”

Compelled to touch her hand and feel her skin against his, he offered his for a handshake. She hesitated just a moment and then clasped his outstretched hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. Despite the fact that she was fine-boned and slender, he could see at a glance that she took good care of herself.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Tessa,” he said. “And call me Arch. That’s what my friends and family usually call me.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Arch,” she replied. Then she took her hand back, and the three of them continued walking along the beach.

Margaret was so busy telling him about her trip to Argentina that she barely looked where she was going. He was worried that she’d break the other arm, but before he could steer her around a rock protruding from the sand, Tessa did it. He didn’t think Margaret had even noticed how deftly Tessa had intervened.

“How are you managing with your broken arm?” He couldn’t do much to help because he had to head back to Los Angeles after the birthday party, but he could make sure at least one of his brothers or sisters or parents dropped by Margaret’s on a regular basis to check on her.

“Actually,” she replied, “I’m being very well looked after.” She glanced at her companion with real affection. “I honestly don’t know what I’ll do without Tessa. She’s taken such good care of me.”

He’d vaguely recalled Margaret talking about a granddaughter who lived in the east somewhere, so he asked Tessa, “Are you the granddaughter I’ve heard so much about?”

Margaret shook her head, but before she could answer, the young woman spoke up for herself. “I’m Margaret’s caregiver.”

The way she said it made it clear that she expected him to think less of her for having a job so many financial tiers down from his own. Instead, he was filled with gratitude that she had clearly earned Margaret’s affection. It was easy to see that a real bond of friendship had developed between the two women. Which was particularly impressive given that Margaret could be extremely feisty, especially if anybody tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do.

As though reading his thoughts, Margaret said, “And don’t think I’ve been an easy patient. I don’t like being an invalid. I don’t want to do my exercises, and the things Tessa won’t let me do would make anybody crazy.” She reached out with her good arm and slipped it around Tessa’s back. “But she’s a wonderful cook, excellent company, and bright as can be. I don’t know what I’ll do without her once I’m well enough for her to move on.”

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