Page 66 of The Seascape Between Us

I had plenty of the former—that was never a problem—but I'd need to come up with a plan for the latter.

June didn’t live in Oceanwind Square or even Saltwater Cove. She had a small cottage just outside of town. High up in the jagged hills, the small yellow and white clapboard bungalow was set back from the highway, the covered wrap-around porch offering a view of the ocean. Huge trees hemmed in the property from the back, with long grass and patches of wildflowers spilling over the rocky hillside—or they would have under normal circumstances.

Just like the rest of Saltwater Cove, June’s patch of land had felt the impact of the storm. Fallen trees and flattened grass and flowers, their petals stripped away from the wind, covered the ground, weighed down from the rain. June’s narrow, winding driveway was remarkably clear as I steered Daniel’s truck over the wet gravel. Maybe she’d already dragged away the heavy branches and sticks that now edged the drive.

I stopped in front of her house and climbed out of the truck. June was sitting in an old wicker rocker on the porch with a book on her lap. She looked up, and her brows knit together when she spotted me.

A small, shaggy mongrel napping next to her chair jumped to its feet and let out a string of high, rapid barks cutting through the quiet afternoon.

“Did Daniel send you?” she called out. “I told him I was fine when he checked in on me this morning.”

I smirked to myself and shook my head. He’d been panicking about the hotel, and he’d still found time to check in on June. He’d probably checked in on all the people he delivered to as well.

“No, he didn’t.” I raised my voice, trying to be heard over the dog while I followed the flagstone path to the short set of wood steps that led to the porch.

The sun beat down from a cloudless sky. Strong winds in the morning had blown out the last of the clouds lingering from the storm, leaving the sky clear and brilliant blue. As the day progressed, the wind died down, and now, the air was thick, hot and surprisingly still.

Sweat trickled down the middle of my back as I climbed the steps. The little dog kept barking but scrambled away to the other side of June’s chair.

“For the love of god,” she muttered impatiently. “Give it a rest, Charlie.”

If Charlie heard her, he gave no sign. If anything, his barking grew louder and faster.

“Sorry,” she said, hauling herself up off the chair. “That’s his stranger-danger bark.” She looped a finger under Charlie’s collar and guided him towards the house, opening the door and shoving him inside. Before the door swung closed, a gust of cool, air-conditioned air wafted out.

“Is your power back?” I asked, hoping the grid might have come back up on my drive over.

She shook her head. “Generator. I got one years ago. Power’s always sketchy out here, and it goes down all the time.”

I shifted uncomfortably under her perplexed stare. Since coming back to The Square, June had always intimidated me. She always looked at me as if she hadn’t quite decided if she liked me or not.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming out here,” I said carefully.

She smirked — “I don’t mind. I can’t figure out why you came.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Daniel and the hotel.”

She eyed me as if trying to work something out. It reminded me of the look Brody had given me the night before when I met him.

“How did the Seascape handle the storm?”

I reached for the back of my head and tangled my fingers in my hair. “Not great.”

“I’m guessing Daniel didn’t take it well, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said. “He's talking about selling.”

“Oh, don’t listen to him,” She waved her hand as if swatting away the possibility. “He doesn’t really mean it.”

“That’s the thing. This time, I think he does.”

“And you’re here because you want me to help change his mind?”

“He thinks it’s too late, and there’s too much damage to reopen. He thinks it’s over for the Seascape.”

“Is he right?”

I shook my head. “He loves that hotel, and I want to help him.”

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