“ARE YOU SURE you want to be here?” Aubrey’s sister Nina asked her again. Both she and their younger sister, Camile, kept looking at her like she might tip over at any second.
“Yes, absolutely. I’m off duty, so I’ll take a nap later and be as good as new.” Aubrey studied one of the several lists she had attached to her clipboard. “We’ve got sixteen people signed up for this work party. I need to be here.”
The three sisters were standing in the basement of the First Methodist Church surrounded by boxes, bags and baskets full of snacks, toys and children’s books. The items were ready to be stuffed into Christmas stockings for handing out at A Visit With Santa. It would be the second event in the DeBolt Realty Crazy About a Coast Christmas competition.
Aubrey, along with the mayor, was co-chair of Pacific Cove’s Christmas Committee, which put them in charge of the town’s participation in the contest.
Eligible beach towns up and down the Pacific Northwest coast had signed up for the competition. Back in July, each interested town had applied for entrance by submitting a proposal for four tourist-and/or community-friendly holiday events to be held the first three weeks of December. The categories included food, entertainment and fun for the family.
“You’ve been awake for who knows how many hours, part of that time on a rescue in freezing cold water where you saved four people,” Camile said, crinkling her face skeptically. She tucked a blond, chin-length curl behind one ear and plopped a hand on one petite hip.
Aubrey often marveled at how her little sister had ended up so…well, little. In comparison to her and Nina, anyway, who were both just a few inches shy of six feet. And while Nina was thin and willowy like their mother, Aubrey was curvier but athletic like their dad. Camile was barely over five feet, with “bones like a bird,” their grandma liked to say.
“I helped save four people, along with my flight crew. Two flight crews actually,” Aubrey corrected. Being a rescue swimmer might be one of the toughest jobs in the Coast Guard, but there was no way she could do it without her crew. Yesterday’s rescue had gone smoothly. Aside from Eli being deployed to assist her, she was feeling good about it.
Upon returning to base, she’d tried not to glare at Eli as she’d discussed the rescue with her team. She’d learned that after being rolled by the wave and hit by debris, coupled with the amount of time both she and the survivor had been in the water, the crew’s concern had escalated. The decision had been made to send down another swimmer, in this case Eli. She understood, yet it troubled her just the same.
Because it was Eli. She couldn’t help but wonder how hard he had pushed for it.
Even though as kids they’d both been wild and adventurous, and often competitive with one another, he’d always had an overly cautious streak where she was concerned. Trying to protect her, help her, save her. She couldn’t stop wondering exactly what had happened on that helo.
She’d been tempted to ask Jay, but didn’t want to give away the fact that she and Eli had any kind of romantic past. It wasn’t relevant and she didn’t need to be ribbed about it. Or have anyone thinking she was receiving special treatment. Anxiety bubbled within her at the thought. She needed to put it out of her mind for now and focus on the task at hand.
“You’re going to take a nap? Right,” Nina drawled wryly. Nina had been living with her for almost a year now and knew that she didn’t do naps. Aubrey powered through fatigue, shaking it off like a beesting or a twisted ankle.
She couldn’t help but be touched by her sisters’ concern, but enough already. She lifted her arms and held them aloft. “You guys, please stop worrying. I promise it was no big deal. Just another day at the office. Did you count these books?”
Nina answered, “Yes, I’ve counted them several times. You love using that office line, don’t you?”
Aubrey shrugged a shoulder and grinned. “I do.” She couldn’t help it. She loved that her “office” was the ocean. She loved her job, too. She was proud of what she and her fellow Coasties accomplished on a daily basis.
“Okay, but I could have handled this work party, you know?”
“Of course I know that,” Aubrey said. And she could have. But Aubrey needed everything to be perfect. “What kind of an example would that be setting for the rest of the team if I bailed in this crucial time?”
Camile snorted. “The team? The Christmas committee is a team? Do you even know how much you sound like Dad right now?” Camile had only returned home from college a few days ago for winter break, so this was the first Christmas committee meeting she’d been able to attend.
She deepened her voice and added an uncanny impersonation of their father. “‘To expect commitment and one-hundred-percent effort from your team members, a good leader needs to be an example.’”
In tandem, she and Nina burst into laughter.
Aubrey couldn’t help but grin herself. “Thank you,” she said, even though they all knew it wasn’t really a compliment. The sisters disagreed on the effectiveness of their now-retired Coast Guard father’s parenting techniques as they’d been growing up. Aubrey had hung on his every word while doing her level best to emulate him. Nina had not. Camile had fallen somewhere in the middle.
Aubrey looked down at her clipboard. “How are we doing with the goodies?”
Nina flipped a page in her own notebook. “Two hundred and twenty-six Baggies—three pieces of saltwater taffy per bag for a total of six hundred and seventy-eight pieces. Two hundred and thirteen pouches of roasted almonds and three hundred string cheese sticks.”
“Perfect.”
“Ah, yes, almonds and cheese, those most traditional of holiday treats,” Camile drawled sarcastically. “Couldn’t we have scored some fudge or a frosted sugar cookie or something? You know that June, the owner of Bakery-by-the-Sea, is a friend of mine, right? She makes the prettiest cookies.”
“I know, and that’s a sweet offer. But we have plenty of candy with the taffy. Why not take the opportunity to show kids that healthy foods can be treats, too? Sandpiper Nut Roasters donated the almonds. Cove Aged Cheeses donated the cheese. And Salmon Crackers made the crackers’ whole-grain deliciousness. It’s good stuff. And tucked into these little stockings that Mom’s quilt club made? Not only are the kids going to love them, they’re going to be a hit with the contest judges—a super-high scorer.”
Each event would be attended by a member from DeBolt Realty’s judging panel. Input from attendees would be encouraged and factored into the final scoring, as well.
Events included everything from Christmas concerts and plays to fancy dinners and wine-and-cheese tastings—anything that would “generate a feeling of community and holiday enthusiasm.” Scores were based on creativity, attendance, execution and Christmas spirit.
“Whole-grain crackers?” Camile shot a horrified look at Nina. “Next thing you know, she’s going to be passing out those little boxes of raisins on Halloween. She’ll be that house…”
Nina reached out and placed a hand on Camile’s shoulder. With exaggerated solemnity she said, “Camile, honey, I hate to tell you this, but she’s already that house. I begged her, but… She passed out protein bars this year.”
“They were chocolate chip!” Aubrey protested. “Plenty of sugar in there to constitute a treat, but the protein and fiber mixed with the sugar helps to prevent that blood sugar crash that no parent wants their child to be subjected to.”
“Protein bars?” Camile pressed her fingers against her temples. “And her house didn’t get egged?”
“I’m sure it was only because everyone in the neighborhood knows she’s Coast Guard. Most of them also know she’s Captain Brian Wynn’s daughter.” She added a slow, sad head shake. “But I’m afraid that will only shield her for so long before—”
Aubrey rolled her eyes. “You are both hilarious. I will admit they weren’t that popular with the trick-or-treaters. Next year I’m thinking about fruit cups. Now, can we get back on track? Our volunteers should be showing up any minute now. I want to have everything ready so we can start stuffing these stockings. I need to win this thing.”
When Aubrey had heard about the competition, she’d pounced on the opportunity, teaming up with Mayor Jack Hobbes as co-chair. The mayor was on a quest to attract wealthy tourists as well as new property-tax-paying residents to Pacific Cove. Aubrey wanted Pacific Cove to win the community improvement money. The town council had agreed to a deal where the bulk of the prize money would go to a project that was dear to her heart, the refurbishment of Pacific Cove’s swimming pool. Their combined efforts would bring exposure to the town and its businesses and, if things went smoothly, would also save the pool in the process.
“So, who’s going to be your Santa?” Camile asked as she scooped up a box of taffy and set it off to one side. In addition to her position as co-chair, Aubrey had taken the lead on this fun-for-the-family event, “A Visit with Santa.”
“Pete Stahl has committed to doing it. Isn’t that perfect? He even looks like Santa.”
“He’s a great choice. And I do like the books,” Camile said, opening a cardboard box to reveal a collection of holiday titles for kids. “And the coupons for bowling at Fast Lanes and free admission to Saturday Swim at the pool. I can see what you’re trying to accomplish here. Not only is a visit with Santa family friendly, so are these activities.”
“Not to mention, she’s drawing attention to the plight of her pool,” Nina added.
“You guys can stop trying to appease me. I’m confident.”
“Isn’t she always?” Nina added, exchanging a smile with Camile.
Camile laughed. “I can see how jumping from helicopters and dangling from cables over sea cliffs might prepare a person for volunteer work here in Pacific Cove.”
Aubrey laughed even as a current of discomfort flooded through her at the reminder of what she was trying hard not to think about; Eli was back. She hadn’t even known that he was returning to Pacific Cove. Of course, she’d known two new transfers were arriving on some kind of special assignment, but she’d never heard their names, hadn’t bothered to find out because she’d learn them when she needed to and—
Camile’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “I’ve noticed there are several titles. Are we letting the kids choose what books they want? Or do they just get what they get?”
Good questions. And an even better distraction from the inevitable encounter with Eli.
* * *
AS ELI AND GALE jogged through the streets of Pacific Cove, or “The Cove” as locals often referred to it, Eli marveled at how little things had changed in the twelve years he’d been away. Mission Street was still the main thoroughfare through town, both sides lined with quaint shops selling sand toys, shells, snow globes, plastic pirate swords and other assorted beach trinkets. Colorful flags were waving outside Kassie’s Kites and the saltwater taffy pull was busy working in the window of the Wishing Well Candy and Fudge Shoppe.
He noticed that Salmon Crackers still smelled like the heavenly fresh-baked buns they served their sandwiches on. On the next block, he was thrilled to see Rascal’s Bookstore still in existence. There was a new coffee shop and the smell emanating from Beach Beans Coffee Roasters made his mouth water.
The first day of December and already Christmas lights and garland were strung on every single light pole in town. Shop windows were painted. Many displayed festive holiday scenes and/or gift ideas.
The end of Mission Street featured a large cul-de-sac with a gazebo overlooking the beach. It was a popular meeting spot and a place where community events often centered. They jogged up to the structure and stood off to one side for a quick breather. A large sign advertised that Santa would be visiting there this coming weekend.
They stood side by side for a moment, gazing out at the stunning view of the horizon. Eli closed his eyes for a few seconds and focused on the roar of the ocean—the unique sound that was Pacific Cove. In spite of everything he was facing here, he was glad to be back. So far in his career he’d lived near the beach in Connecticut, New Jersey, North Carolina and San Diego, California. He was positive that if someone blindfolded him and plopped him down on the shore at any of those locales, he’d able to identify each one.
But the Northwest coast was different to him and Pacific Cove was special. He and his father had moved every few years until Eli was twelve. That’s when they’d landed in Pacific Cove. His father had been lucky enough to score back-to-back assignments here and Eli considered it the closest thing to a hometown he’d ever had.
Connected to this place were a billion memories, most of them including or featuring Aubrey. They had spent so much time on this very stretch of beach. He’d kissed her right here once, at the bottom of the stairs, sheltered from passersby under the edge of the boardwalk.
He felt himself shifting from one foot to the other as a fresh bout of anxiety coursed through him. Clearly, she was upset by the fact that he’d gone into the water after her. She’d barely glanced his way as the team had discussed the events back at the base.
Lt. Cdr. Holmes had explained to Aubrey their fear that she’d been knocked silly by the piece of debris. They’d immediately deployed Eli in case she needed assistance. By the time he’d been lowered into the water, the rest of the crew could see she had the situation handled. The consensus had been that she’d executed her duties perfectly.
But the fact was he’d pushed for it. He hadn’t been able to handle the idea of Aubrey being in danger. He’d wondered if Gale had picked up on it. He’d been waiting for his friend to quiz him about it, could feel his questioning gaze on him now. Gale knew that he, Aubrey and Alex were friends, that they had grown up here together. But Eli hadn’t mentioned that, for a time, he and Aubrey had been more.
“Are you up for a few more miles?” he asked. A sudden urge came over him to run by his old house. “We still have another hour before we meet Danielle Cruz and her parents.” Their first official task of the day was to interview the survivors from yesterday’s rescue.
“Sure,” Gale agreed.
They took off running again, heading east toward the other end of Mission Street. Here it crossed the two-lane Coast Highway, bisecting the town—and its socioeconomics right along with it. The community’s wealthier residents lived in the upscale beachfront and ocean-view mansions. The more modest “middle class” homes began a few blocks from the beach and stretched up toward the highway. The less fortunate and view-deprived lived “across the highway.” It was funny because he and Alex and Aubrey hailed respectively from each of these locales. The St. Johns lived in the grandest of all the grand beachfront homes. The Wynn family enjoyed a comfortable existence in a well-kept bungalow right in the middle of town. And the Pelletiers had made their home “across the highway.”
They turned into the now nearly empty parking lot of the Starfish Charmer where Eli explained, “This establishment used to be the place in town to drink hard and not go home alone.”
Gale chuckled in understanding. They were crossing the lot when a familiar figure emerged from the tavern. Eli watched as the man stopped, shoved his phone into a pocket and raked his hands through his hair. Same gesture of frustration he’d employed since they’d first become friends in the sixth grade.
“Hey, that’s my buddy, Alex.”
Alex saw them, gave a hearty wave and headed in their direction. They stopped and Eli introduced the two men. He silently hoped these two guys, his best friends, would hit it off.
“Are you okay, buddy? You looked a little wound up when you came out of there.”
“Oh, yeah, um…town council business.” Alex looked around like he’d just realized where they were. “What are you doing hanging around in this part of town, anyway?”
Eli lifted his arms in a wide shrug. “What are you talking about? These are my old stomping grounds. I’m showing Gale around.”
Alex chuckled. “True enough.”
“I think the real question is what are you doing here, St. John? Pardon my political incorrectness, but this is slumming for you. I, on the other hand, used to enjoy a basket of clam strips here almost every Saturday night with my dad.”
He glanced toward the somewhat run-down establishment, annoyance again creasing his brow. “Polly Simmons has started yet another petition to shut this place down.”
“On what grounds?”
“She claims it’s unsanitary.” Twisting his face into a grimace, he pointed across the highway and asked, “You guys headed to your old neighborhood?”
“We are. Is it?”
Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll go with you for moral support because it’s going to break your heart, buddy. And, no, it’s not. I wouldn’t eat off the floor, but it’s nowhere near condemnable. Polly is irritated because Jaycie won’t sell the place. Jaycie keeps getting these obscene offers from developers, but she won’t even consider them. This further infuriates Polly because she is on the mayor’s bandwagon where this subject is concerned. Polly and the mayor and their cronies want to turn Pacific Cove into one of those upscale tourist traps full of—” he paused to add air quotes “—‘high-end boutiques and gourmet eateries.’”
He rubbed the back of his neck and then gestured at the Starfish Charmer. “What is wrong with this place the way it is? Once you lose that small-town feel? Bam, it’s gone forever. Am I right?”
He turned and motioned them forward. “Cool your heels, by the way. We’re walking. I couldn’t run across the street if a tiger was chasing me. Honest truth, I would literally lie down and take my chances with a tiger—that’s how out of shape I am.”
They all laughed and started walking.
“So, Gale, what do you think of our little town so far?”
“It’s great. I’m a small-town boy myself. It reminds me a lot of our little coastal towns back east in Connecticut.”
“But without the history or the New England–style charm?”
Gale grinned. “Well, a couple hundred years can make a big difference history-wise. Although, Astoria is pretty cool and you’ve got your own history with the fur trade and Lewis and Clark’s big adventures along the Columbia River. Plus, the old forts and the Native American culture. And all these spectacular lighthouses I’ve been reading about. Excited to check those out.”
“That’s true,” Alex said, a tinge of pride in his voice. After a thoughtful pause he asked, “How long do you think you guys will be here?”
Eli answered. “Uh, we’re not sure yet. As long as it takes us to make a thorough evaluation.”
“Of search-and-rescue training procedures?”
“Yep.”
“Air rescue or all operations?”
“We’re doing air, water and vertical surface. Someone else will be assigned to the boats, probably sometime this spring, from what I understand.” This wasn’t true, but luckily the powers that be had planned for this question and formulated the official answer they were to give if asked. Even though it was part of the job, it made him uncomfortable to have to lie to his old friend.
Alex nodded thoughtfully.
This would be the perfect opportunity to confide in Alex. He and Gale had been cautioned to proceed as if they didn’t trust anyone. The admiral knew Eli had roots here, yet he’d trusted him not to let those connections cloud his judgment. Eli and Gale had agreed that they’d discuss and be in accordance before they sought advice or help from anyone else, Coast Guard or civilian. There was also the fact that he could conceivably be putting his friend in danger by getting him involved. For the time being he would hold off.
As they walked and talked, Eli wondered how many hundreds of times he and Alex had covered this same path together. It was crazy how it suddenly seemed like they’d done so only yesterday.
The cozy gray-and-white saltbox he and his father had shared was gone now. They paused on the newly-poured sidewalk in front of a cardinal-red mailbox marking the address where it had once been. Memories tumbled through his brain like a slide show; his dad making him breakfast every single morning when he wasn’t on duty, playing on the rope swing he and his dad had hung from the limb of a huge spruce tree, his cat Willow greeting him when he got home from school…
“Man, we had some good times here,” Alex said. “Remember all the card games we used to play? Dang, Aubrey was good at that one where you have to get rid of all the cards in your pile. She has freakishly fast hands. Remember how we would cheat? We’d get frustrated and throw her cards so she’d have to scramble around for them while we would frantically try to catch up.” His deep belly laugh was contagious. “She’d get so mad, but she’d giggle at the same time. It’s been great having her back in town—and Nina, too. I love those Wynn girls.”
Eli chuckled in remembrance. He hadn’t had fun like that in a very long time.
“Speaking of rescues… That was kind of a scary one yesterday, huh?”
Of course Alex would know about it. He knew everything that happened in town. Plus, Aubrey and Alex were still close, just like he and Alex were. Unlike him, Alex was still friendly with the entire Wynn family.
“You heard, huh? Aubrey was great. They are lucky to have her.” Eli wasn’t about to give away how scared he’d been. He didn’t even want to admit that to himself.
“Yeah, I talked to Nina last night. I called Aubrey first thing this morning because I knew she had a Christmas meeting. She’s a little obsessed with this competition. The woman goes nonstop as it is. If she’s not on base or working out, she’s swimming or giving lessons at the pool or helping somebody with something—or worrying about someone. Nina is on the receiving end of that these days. You know about how Nina’s been living with her since her divorce?”
He knew, but only because Alex had told him months ago over the phone.
“She’s been through hell, and Aubrey’s been there for her every step of the way. Don’t get me wrong, she’s amazing, and I’m not begrudging her any of it…” His head fell to one side as if pondering. “Most of it, anyway. I just wish she’d take a little time for herself once in a while.”
Eli wasn’t surprised by any of this. She’d always exhibited that kind of compassion. He’d been drawn to it as well as her courage and unshakable drive. At times he’d been almost jealous of the phenomenal amount of energy she possessed. Even when they were teenagers, she’d been tough to keep up with. When she’d told him she wanted to be a rescue swimmer, he’d never once doubted her ability to achieve that goal.
“What’s a Christmas contest?” Gale asked.
“Oh, there’s this competition, sponsored by DeBolt Realty. Their goal is to find the beach town with the most Christmas spirit. They specialize in oceanfront property and they’re trying to expand their footprint here in the Pacific Northwest. Aubrey is co-chair of Pacific Cove’s effort, along with the mayor, Jack Hobbes. She really wants to win. I’m not super thrilled about the venture because, if she wins, the town gets included in a national advertising campaign. Don’t let them fool you. Not all publicity is good publicity. But I’m being supportive for Aubrey’s sake because also included is prize money, which she wants to use to spruce up the community’s pool. That part I’m on board with. We spent an awful lot of time in that pool when we were kids, especially Aubrey.”
Alex pointed at what used to be Eli’s yard. “Remember how we would get those whiffle ball games going in your yard? Your dad would always play when we needed to make the teams even. He was so cool. He made being a single dad look easy. How’s he doing?”
Tim Pelletier had been a great dad, caring for Eli in the best way he knew how and steadfastly making their house a home. Eli’s mom had taken off when Eli was only three months old, so his dad had been left to fulfill as much of the mom role as he could. In spite of his dad’s bouts of depression, his childhood had been great, right up through his teenage years.
But everything had changed soon after his high school graduation when his father had been transferred. Closing in on two three-year assignments, it had been time for him to move on. But not in this way. The new assignment, which he’d had no choice but to take, had essentially been a demotion for his father, marking the end of his career advancement. Depression had kicked in and he’d retired soon after.
The situation had been bad for Eli, too. He’d been left with no choice but to break up with Aubrey while a burning anger and hatred had born for the man who had caused it all—Brian Wynn. Aubrey’s father. Because how could Eli be with the girl whose father had ended his own dad’s career? How could he be with her and not tell her all of the things that weren’t his to tell, like why he’d really broken up with her and what her parents’ role had been in it all?
Eli realized Alex was waiting for an answer. “He’s good. Really good, actually. He’s thinking about flying up for Christmas.” After his retirement, his father had moved to Florida, bought a boat and become a sport fishing guide. After several rough years of adjustment, his dad finally seemed content. The last couple of years in particular he’d been especially busy and seemed to be flourishing.
“We should go fishing with him again. Man, that was a blast.” Three years ago, he and Alex had taken a trip to Florida to visit him.
“Alex caught a marlin that weighed in at—what was it?—four hundred and twelve pounds.”
“Four hundred and twelve point two pounds,” Alex answered, launching into his fish story.
Eli took the opportunity to study his old neighborhood. Alex was right. Unlike the west side, or “beach side” as they’d called the upscale part of town, this side of town had changed. Dramatically. A few years ago a developer had bought a huge chunk of land here, torn down the old houses and put up one of those cutesy subdivisions where the houses looked different and yet matched at the same time. It reminded Eli of a set of snap-together toys.
“Isn’t this a crying shame?” Alex asked a few minutes later. “It looks like a bunch of gingerbread houses have been smacked down in the middle of Candy Land. I did my level best to block approval of this project. But the developer…he’s got his shizzle together. I tell you what…”
Alex rambled on while Gale asked questions.
Amazingly, the giant spruce tree that had stood in their front yard was still there, sans swing, but Eli could see the scars where a succession of ropes had spent years relentlessly rubbing into the thick limb. He stared at it as Alex ranted on about the injustice of unfettered construction in their town.
He wondered how long he and Gale would be in Pacific Cove.
The real question was how long could he work so closely with Aubrey and yet keep the distance he knew he needed to maintain? And what about Brian Wynn? Alex had told him that since his retirement, Brian and his wife, Susannah, had been spending a few months of the year down south in Arizona. He’d also mentioned that they would be home for the holidays.
Avoiding him was completely unrealistic. Could he be around the man and not reveal the hatred he harbored for him? Did he even want to? Maybe a confrontation was the answer to this long-held animus. Eli knew his train of thought was nothing but a vicious, ugly circle with no end. Because the problem with this scenario was that Susannah was still Brian’s wife—and Aubrey was still their daughter.