Page 27 of Wilde Sanctuary

He took a deep breath of the salty air to steady his nerves and headed down the street in search of caffeine. His cousins liked to joke that he was a bear without his morning brew, but they were all just as bad.

He had just reached Wilde Buns when he saw the elderly Mrs. Trombley cross the road towards him. Her white hair was streaked with bright pink and purple, contrasting with the huge green reading glasses that were perched on her head when not being worn. She might be in her eighties, but she was oneof the fittest people Rhett knew, riding her bicycle everywhere she went. She taught yoga and belly dancing at the town’s community center and did tarot readings from the shop she ran in town, where she sold crystals and locally made candles.

“Morning, Mrs. Trombley,” he said. “Everything all set for today?” He opened the bakery door for her.

Her eyes twinkled. “Of course. Anything for love,” she laughed, patting him on the shoulder as she stepped inside. “I know she’ll be good for you. I saw it in the cards. It’s not right for such a fine specimen of manhood to be all alone,” she said, before turning to survey the baked goods in the glass display cabinet.

He met the eyes of Joe, who co-owned Wilde Buns with his husband Pierre, both of them trying not to laugh at her description of Rhett. “Hey Rhett. What can I get you?”

“Coffee and one of those,” he pointed at a savory pastry in the cabinet.

“No problem.”

While he waited for his order, Rhett stared out the window. For days he’d been making plans, putting things in place, calling in favors owed and gaining new ones. All for today. If his gamble didn’t pay off, then he didn’t know what he’d do, but at least he could say he’d laid it all on the line.

“Here you are, Rhett,” Joe said, sliding a large to-go coffee cup and a paper bag across the counter.

With a nod and a wave of thanks, Rhett headed over to the table where Logan was already sitting. Leg jiggling with nerves, he took a sip of the hot coffee and sighed.

Cassie joined them a few minutes later, bringing her own coffee and pastry to chatter with Logan—her brother— about a litter of puppies she’d delivered earlier that morning. Slowly, the tables around Rhett filled until everyone had assembled.

“Alright everyone, thank you for coming,” Rhett said, standing to get their attention. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and chuckled. “This is not something I’ve ever done before?—”

“I should hope not,” muttered Mrs. Trombley.

Rhett ignored her. “—So I really appreciate the help.” He looked around at his neighbors, friends, and family. For a long time he’d felt a little like an interloper in Cape Wilde, being adopted into the town but never part of it. Somewhere along the way that had changed, and all these people had volunteered to help him.

With their help, he’d show Charlie just how much he loved her, how much he loved this town, and how much he wanted her to stay.

A chorus of voices greeted him, and Rhett lifted a hand to be heard. “Alright, so let’s get started.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and ran his finger down the list.

“Mrs. Trombley, you’re up first.”

“Card reading and tea and scones,” she replied. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Rhett smiled. “Cassie?”

“Puppies are go!” There were a few chuckles at that.

“Good.”

And so it went, one after another, the people of Cape Wilde went over their role in Charlie’s treasure hunt. Until there was only one left.

“And finally me,” he said, smiling. He folded the paper up and put it in his pocket once more.

Hopefully, this would be a day Charlie remembered for all the right reasons.

Chapter Fourteen

Charlie

The morning Charlie arrived in Cape Wilde for the second time was cool, but sunny. She drove straight to Wilde Outdoor Adventures, surprised to find the doors locked and nobody there. On the front door a single red rose was taped with a note.

Charlie looked around, but there was nobody about to ask. Fingers shaking, she reached for the note. Turning it over, she saw her name printed in a bold, masculine print.

Rhett’s handwriting.

She smiled, smoothing her hand over the paper before opening the note.

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