California Homecoming (Crimson Romance) Read online

  Once grace had been said, Sarah asked about Elizabeth’s boyfriend. “So when is Marcos coming to California again?”

  Her mother blushed. “In a few weeks.” She glanced toward the kitchen. Daisy sat expectantly in the archway. With an exasperated sigh Elizabeth said, “All right. You can come in.”

  Daisy walked to Sarah and lay down at her feet.

  “Marcos says he’s going to teach me to prune vines,” Elizabeth said and shook her head. “I can’t even imagine it.”

  “Well,” Sarah said, “you knew when he bought a vineyard last year that he was going to get you involved. Pretend it’s gardening.” She grinned at her mother.

  “Uh-huh. So how does the inn look? Will you have enough money to spruce it up? When do you plan on opening?”

  “If I’m careful the money from Daddy’s trust fund should last. The kitchen needs work. I’m still not sure if I should hire a chef or do the work myself.” If Rick had been true to his word, she wouldn’t need to worry about a chef.

  Her mother wrinkled her nose. “Given the way you make breakfast, I think you should find some help, or take a lot of lessons.”

  Sarah stuck her tongue out at her mother. “I could hire you. These raviolis are amazing.”

  “Not me. Remember I’m going to be pruning.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So, when do you think you’ll be able to open?” Elizabeth asked again.

  “I’d love to open for Valentine’s Day, but that’s not happening. The kitchen has to be brought up to code, even if all I’m serving is breakfast.” Among fifty million other things. “Maybe by April or May? The weekenders should start coming from the valley around then, shouldn’t they?”

  “Yes, that’s when they start showing up at the day spa. What do you need to do at the inn other than the kitchen? Do you have a plan?”

  Get the inn open before I give birth. Without answering her mother, Sarah took another cheese-filled pasta pocket and savored the tastes. Her mother really was a master chef. Probably why she’d never tried to compete. Elizabeth did everything so perfectly — perfect homemaker, mother, wife.

  How could you have done what you did, Daddy?

  Sarah put her hand on her tummy. Rick hadn’t turned out any better. At least her dad had stuck around when Elizabeth became pregnant.

  She glanced at Elizabeth who appeared lost in thought, a bemused smile on her face that brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. It was good to see her mother in love. Although she’d never figured her mother would have taken up with a casual acquaintance from Italy, Marcos made Elizabeth happy.

  “I haven’t got a real plan yet. Today was a bit crazy,” Sarah said. The pain she’d experienced earlier still concerned her. Was it anything to worry about or was it simply the stress of the day — the closing, the dog … and the man.

  Damn. He’d been good looking. She pushed the thought from her mind and calculated how many weeks she had left in the first trimester. Women were supposed to get a surge of energy their second trimester. If she tapped into that energy, she’d have the inn open by spring. That would give her a few months before the baby’s birth to work out the kinks and find someone she trusted to help her the first few months after the baby was born.

  Finding that person was going to be the most difficult task.

  “When do you see the doctor again?” Her mother asked.

  “Next week. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t see her until next month, but because of your history, she wants to see me a little more often in the beginning.”

  “You can’t be too careful.” Elizabeth frowned. “I wish Rick — ”

  “Stop, mother,” Sarah interrupted, a warning tone in her voice. “It’s over.”

  How was she going to make it through eight more months of her mother’s anxiety and pressure?

  “These ravioli are the best, Mom. Sure I can’t talk you into creating a supply for the inn? Please?” Sarah turned on the wheedling voice she’d always used as a child when she really wanted something.

  “I suppose I could be persuaded.” Elizabeth’s smile returned.

  Good to know some things still worked.

  • • •

  Sarah got to the inn early the next morning. When she opened the door, Daisy trotted in and lay down in the front sitting room. Carting in her bag of supplies, Sarah closed the door behind her.

  I’m going to have to get a dog bed, or at least a rug.

  She tugged a yellow lined pad from the Grenaldi’s Market bag and wrote down “Rugs.” Then she started her walk around the rest of the inn. Daisy lunged to her feet and followed.

  An hour later, she’d made it to the kitchen and her list was five pages long. How was she ever going to get this done by springtime? She glanced through the broad kitchen window to the garden beyond.

  At least it appeared to be a garden. The realtor had told her there was a view of the ocean, but Sarah was skeptical.

  When her mother and Marcos where done with the vineyard, they could start here.

  Her shoulders went limp. This was insane. The only way the inn was going to work was if she found a magic wand or a winning lottery ticket. Waiting for a knight in shining armor wasn’t going to work.

  Unless Hunter Evans came back. Her face heated. She had to stop thinking about the good-looking soldier. She was pregnant. About to be a mother. She had to be more … more … sedate.

  Ugh.

  Her cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket to answer.

  “Hi, it’s Mandy,” the caller cheerfully announced.

  “Mandy?” The name seemed familiar, but Sarah couldn’t place it.

  “I’m sorry!” Mandy laughed. “I know your mom and Annie. I work at the Costanoa Grill.”

  Mandy came into memory. About four inches taller than Sarah, red-brown hair with a purple streak.

  “What can I do for you?” Please don’t be trying to sell me anything.

  “Your mom called me.”

  Uh-oh.

  “She said you could use some help in the kitchen. All my life that’s all I wanted to do … be a chef, that is. They won’t give me a chance here because they’ve got me pegged as a waitress and I thought since your mom said it was okay to call, I would. Sorry your boyfriend dumped you. Oh, shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

  Great. A babble-mouthed airhead in her kitchen. Not what she needed. She dug up her professional voice. “I’m sorry, Mandy, but I’m not ready to hire a chef. I’m sorry my mother jumped the gun. I’ll let her know when I’m ready and she can tell you. Have a — ”

  “At least let me show you what I can do. I can stop by before work this afternoon and help you decide how to equip the kitchen. You need to know that now, don’t you? Besides, I’ve always wanted to see that house. I’ll see you around four, okay? Bye.”

  The phone clicked off.

  Sarah put the phone back in her pocket and rubbed her temples. Maybe she was being too hasty. She was going to need some help at some point.

  Sighing, she slumped into a chair.

  Surely, she could learn to accept another person into her life as long as she didn’t depend totally on them. People were never there when you really needed them. Her father and Rick had proved that.

  She forced herself out of the chair and headed upstairs.

  By four, Sarah’s body ached from cleaning the main upstairs bathroom. The notes of what she needed for an upgrade in that single bathroom had increased to a full page. Would she have to hire a plumber? Plumbers were expensive. Maybe she could trade to get what she needed — someone who needed a place to stay to help around the place. Someone like … Hunter.

  Bad idea. I can be my own plumber!

  Then an image of herself, eight months pregnant, crawling under the sink to fix a leak came into her mind and she cracked up. That’s probably a bad idea, too.

  The doorbell rang and she trudged down the stairs, calling out, “Just a minute!”

  Daisy sat in the entryway and
watched carefully as Sarah opened the door.

  Mandy stood there with a large grin on her face. “Thanks for seeing me today. You must be busy. Oh gosh, look at you.” She started laughing.

  “What?” Sarah asked. Heat flushed her skin.

  “Your face!” Mandy exclaimed between giggles. “Don’t you have a mirror?”

  “Well, yes … but I haven’t used it lately.”

  “Let me help.” Mandy took a tissue from her purse and reached up to Sarah’s face.

  Sarah stepped back. “That’s okay. I’ll wash up in the kitchen. Want a cup of tea?” Much as she wanted to, it didn’t feel right to send Mandy away without at least letting her see the place. Sarah led the way to the kitchen.

  “It’s wonderful! There’s so much you could do with this place! And what a beautiful dog!”

  Daisy’s tail thumped on the floor.

  Mandy opened and closed cupboards as Sarah washed her face in the kitchen sink. “I hope you don’t mind,” Mandy sang out. “I want to get a good idea of what you need. These cupboards could use a do-over.”

  The grime came off in Sarah’s hands. So could I. Good thing Mandy was the only person who had shown up at her door. If Hunter had come back …

  Her skin was hot under her fingertips.

  “Now then.” Sarah dried her face with a kitchen towel. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Oh, I can’t stay long. Got to be at work in … ” Mandy checked her watch. “Oh, gosh, thirty minutes. I’m always late. Not that I’d be late as your chef. It’s too important to me. Have you talked to the county yet about what’s required?”

  “I started to see what it said online and got confused.”

  Mandy nodded her head. “Yep. Bureaucrats never make anything simple, but I can help you with that.”

  “I can’t afford to pay you.”

  Mandy plunked into a chair. “You don’t need to pay me! All I want is a reference when I’m done. It’s learning for me, too. I got my degree at a community college in New Jersey. Regulations are totally different in California and I’ve got to learn them. Let me do this for you.”

  “I shouldn’t — ”

  “Good. That’s settled. I’ll talk to the manager at the grill, and the health inspector, and safety, and my friend I know at the county commissioner’s office, and — ”

  Sarah laughed, her chest relaxing with the release of air.

  “What? Are you saying I talk too much?” Mandy joined her in the laughter.

  It’s good to have someone to laugh with.

  “Are you going to do catering?” Mandy asked. “You know, special parties, weddings? This would be a great place for a wedding. I’ll have to tell Annie.”

  “Oh, no — please don’t let Annie know there’s the possibility of events. I do not want to start with the wedding of my mother’s best friend.”

  “A lot of pressure.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you know your mother will mention it.”

  “How about we keep this between us?” Sarah asked.

  “Pinky promise?”

  Sarah laughed again and crossed her pinkie finger with Mandy’s, her mood lifting even further.

  Once she relaxed, the urge to lay her head on the table and sleep took over. Surely, it was nap time. She propped her head on her hands.

  “You must be exhausted,” Mandy said. She put her hand on Sarah’s. “Something tells me you could use a friend about now. Well, so could I. I’ve never found any in Costanoa. No time, and I never felt I fit in — being from New Jersey and all.” Mandy sighed.

  “Thanks,” Sarah said and realized she really did appreciate the offer. Other than her mother, she didn’t have many girlfriends either. Most of her high school friends were off at college, while she … Tears started to fall. Damn. Pregnancy was playing hell with her emotions.

  Mandy stood, crossed to Sarah and wrapped her arms around her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  But Sarah did. As Rick had pointed out, she was responsible and she could take care of the baby by herself. Unless she wanted to abort it. Then he’d stick around.

  Not going there.

  Sarah stiffened her spine and patted Mandy’s hand. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks.”

  Mandy let go. “Sure.”

  Sarah swallowed hard. “What do you think I need? For the kitchen, I mean.”

  “An industrial refrigerator, of course. Six-burner gas stove. Have you got a plumber?”

  “Not yet.” She put her face back in her hands. It was all too much.

  Mandy glanced at her watch. “Oh my god — now I’m really going to be late. I’ll call you after I talk to everyone. I can’t wait to get started!”

  She gave Sarah a quick hug and darted from the kitchen.

  Sarah stared at her list. If Hunter came back today and offered to buy the place, she’d definitely take him up on it. What had she been thinking?

  She stood, took up her list, and went into the front room. If Mandy was going to handle the kitchen, she may as well work on the rest of the house.

  Daisy followed and plopped in what was becoming her normal spot.

  Sarah knelt beside the dog and buried her face in the fur. I wish I could go to sleep for hours and hours and forget all this.

  And she did.

  Chapter 3

  After a discouraging day of job hunting, Hunter started his Thursday morning by pounding down the compacted beach sand of Rio del Mar. As he ran, he scanned the ocean cliffs for trouble. He ignored people’s curious stares at his prosthesis, but kept an eye out for any sudden moves.

  Today’s run wasn’t the same as dashing down the beach as a kid, but he was thankful technology had gotten to a point where he could be almost good as new on the outside. Whenever he stopped by the Veteran’s Hall, the old, bearded Vietnam vets in wheelchairs saddened him. How might their lives have been different if they could have walked?

  Was his life going to turn to be out any different from theirs in spite of his physical ability?

  He increased his pace, wet sand flying behind him.

  The salt-laden air filled his lungs, cleansing them further from the stale smells of hospitals and rehab facilities.

  He watched a seagull lift in flight, soaring against the wind in takeoff. Hunter longed to have that ultimate freedom, but running was as close as he was going to get.

  It would have to do.

  A few surfers off in the distance caught his eye. Unfortunately, he’d never be able to do that again. He’d been learning to surf in junior high school. Only in Santa Cruz could you get gym credits for surfing.

  At least he was in laid-back Santa Cruz. He’d dreamed of the beach town ever since his father had yanked the family out of the city when Hunter was fourteen. He’d never forgiven his father for the change.

  A sudden movement made him shy. Hunter’s adrenalin surged and he automatically reached for a weapon, before his therapy kicked in. He forced himself to examine his surroundings. Tiny clusters of snowy plovers played tag with the waves, a pelican dove beak-first into the waves, and a pair of dolphins crested the waves.

  His breathing slowed and he eased his pace. His muscles ached and he tired more easily than he had before the injury. The doctors had told him his physical abilities would improve over time.

  That’s how he tried to think of it — a simple injury. Just an accident that had cost more than he’d ever wanted to give.

  Right.

  Sweating, he reached the parking lot. Even in mid-January, the California coast could generate some heat. Today was the second in a string of perfect days the weatherman promised.

  Perfect except that Hunter had to figure out how to live. His mother wanted him to come home so she could baby him. The VA wanted him to go to job training.

  All Hunter wanted to do was get back to construction work. But construction work was hard enough to find if you had all your limbs. Hiring bosses took one look at him and shook their heads.


  So much for supporting veterans.

  Hunter toweled off, glanced at his watch, and got into the car. Just enough time to change before he went to see Joe. If Joe didn’t have something for him to do, Hunter would be stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life.

  He needed a job of some kind to get back to the living — and maybe go out on a date.

  He smiled as he pulled onto the highway, the image of a pixie-faced, chestnut haired girl clear in his mind.

  God he had it bad.

  • • •

  Hunter pulled up in front of the tiny bungalow a few blocks from Pleasure Point.

  The gate squeaked as he opened it and a pink plastic tricycle barricaded the middle of the sidewalk. He grinned as he walked through the obstacle course. Joe’s one-track mind had never had room for straightening up. His wife Mary wasn’t much better. Concentrating on her kids’ happiness was more important, she’d always claimed.

  He knocked on the peeling gray door and a preteen girl in purple pajamas immediately opened it.

  His best friend’s daughter launched herself at him.

  “Hunter!” she yelled.

  He hugged her small body close and set her down on the floor. She ran toward the back of the house yelling, “Hunter’s here! Hunter’s here!”

  Mary entered the room, dish towel in her hand. “He’s around back.”

  “Still dealing with the surfing bug?”

  Mary shrugged and smiled. “It came with the man. I’d rather he be out there building surfboards than in the bar.”

  Or in the Middle East.

  She didn’t have to say it. Joe had survived a tour of duty before Mary had convinced him the family needed him more than the military.

  “Cup of coffee?” Mary asked.

  “Got a pot on?” When she nodded, he said, “Sure,” and followed her to the bright yellow kitchen in the back of the house.

  “Were you able to get the house?” Mary asked.

  “No, someone bought it a few hours before I got there. She says she’s going to make it an inn.”

  “She?” Mary handed him a chipped cup of brew.

  Hunter smiled. “Yeah. Cute little shrimp of a girl who looks like she’s ready for anything.”

  Mary laughed. “Took more than a passing interest in her, did you?”