The Women of Bayberry Cove

Jamie chuckled. “A few times. Your point’s well taken.”

“So where are the women now?”

“You just missed Vicki. She drove into Bayberry Cove to meet Louise at the Kettle. She stayed at a motel in Morgan City last night, but she’s determined to find a place in town to rent for a couple of months so she can just sort of kick back.”

Wes pictured the Bayberry Cove Kettle at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning. The restaurant would be packed, and he had no doubt who in the crowd would be the center of attention.

LOUISE TURNED ONTO Main Street and looked at the digital clock on her dashboard. Already ten minutes late, she reluctantly slowed to a frustrating, but law-abiding, thirty-five miles an hour and scanned the street for available parking. She settled for a spot two blocks away from the Bayberry Cove Kettle, got out of her car and walked briskly to the entrance.

She threaded her way through the crowded restaurant to where her friend was seated. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, hanging her purse over the back of the chair and sitting down.

“Don’t apologize. I only got here five minutes ago. I took my time, since I remembered it was you I was meeting.”

“Funny.” A pleasant-looking waitress came to the table. “What’s good here?” Louise asked Vicki.

“Everything’s great, isn’t that right, Bobbi Lee?” Vicki said.

Louise gave Vicki a knowing look. So this well-rounded waitress in the red-checkered dress was the notorious Bobbi Lee Blanchard she’d heard so much about, the woman who’d lusted after Jamie Malone for years.

“Not a bad choice on the whole menu,” Bobbi confirmed.

“In that case,” Louise said, “I’ll have two eggs over light, hash browns, wheat toast and a side of bacon. And, of course, coffee—large.”

Vicki ordered scrambled eggs and an English muffin and waited until Bobbi Lee had gone to place the order before she said, “What happened to yogurt and fresh fruit?”

Louise shrugged. “I’m in the country now. Fresh air makes me hungry.” She pointed to Vicki’s bulging belly. “It could be worse. Look what it did to you.”

They chatted about Vicki’s store in Fort Lauderdale, her new house, the wood carvings Jamie was sending to a Boston gallery for a summer showing. “Enough about my life,” Vicki said when they’d finished their meal and were sipping coffee. “Be honest, Lulu. How are you going to stay in Bayberry Cove for two months? You’re going to die of boredom.”

“No, I won’t. I like this town. It’s cute and cozy. With the exception of Wesley Fletcher, the people seem nice. I’ll find things to do. Maybe I’ll help you shop for baby stuff.”

Vicki’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You? Baby shopping? One trip to Infants ’R Us in Morgan City and you’ll be begging for mercy.”

Louise nodded. “Maybe. But I’d like to give the town a try—if I can find a place to stay. I’m not driving nearly twenty miles each way to the motel.”

Vicki set her mug on the table. “Sorry things didn’t work out for Buttercup Cottage. And even sorrier that Wes gave you such a hard time. I’ve never met him, but Jamie’s always told me what a super guy he is.”

Louise arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Believe me, Vic, there are things about him that definitely fall into the super category.”

“Ah…so what Bobbi Lee just told me is true. Commander Fletcher is a hunk.”

Louise smiled. “Close enough. He’s way too clean-cut for my taste, but with a little roughing up, he could be the mountain man of my dreams.”

“Somehow I can’t see a career navy guy turning into Grizzly Adams.”

Louise was about to respond when Bobbi Lee returned. “Can I get you anything else, ladies?”

Louise grabbed the check just as a customer approached the table demanding Bobbi’s attention.

“Hi, Earnest,” she said. “You want the usual?”

“That’ll be fine, Bobbi Lee. Just wrap it up and I’ll take it back upstairs to my apartment. I’ve got a whole day’s worth of bookkeeping ahead of me.”

Louise stared at the man’s balding pate as he walked behind Bobbi Lee toward the counter. “Vicki, did you hear what that man said?”

Vicki tucked a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. “Something about a take-out order.”

“Right. An order he can take up to his apartment.” She pointed to the ceiling. “His apartment upstairs.”

Vicki was clearly baffled. “So?”

“This street is lined with two-story buildings. There must be living quarters on the second floor of most of them. All I have to do is find one that’s empty.”

“What are you going to do?” Vicki asked. “Check every building on the street?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you like me to help? I promised Jamie I’d work with him on his exhibit today, but he’ll understand.”

“No. Go on home to that gorgeous husband of yours. I’ll wait and pay the check.” As Vicki stood to leave, Louise looked out the window to the park across the street and grinned. “I won’t need your help anyway, Vic. I know just who to ask.”

WES WAS LUCKY. He pulled into a parking place right in front of the Bayberry Cove Kettle just after a customer backed out. Glancing around at the spots nearest him, he confirmed the absence of a black BMW and couldn’t decide if he felt relief or disappointment.

He opened the door to the restaurant, and Louise breezed through it wearing a midthigh sundress splashed with sunflowers and held up with inch-wide shoulder straps. A flurry of gastric activity began in Wes’s stomach that made him forget his earlier cravings for pancakes and bacon.

She stopped in front of him and locked her mesmerizing pale lavender eyes with his. A shock of recognition—no doubt as profound as Wes’s own—shimmered in her gaze for mere seconds before mutating to an amused familiarity. Nothing seemed to faze this woman for long.

“Well, well, Commander.” She placed a fist on her hip and gave him a self-assured grin. “You clean up pretty darn well.”

His fingers twitched at his side. He resisted the ridiculous urge to salute. He literally was a commander, but he didn’t feel in charge of this encounter. “Good morning, Louise,” he said, reassured by the commanding tone of his voice, at least.

“You look refreshed, Wesley,” she said. “I assume you slept well in your seaside retreat.”

“Very well, thank you.” That was a lie. The window air conditioner in the master bedroom had cranked and hissed in competition with the twenty-year-old compressor in the refrigerator. But outdated appliances weren’t all that had kept him awake most of the night. He was staring at the main reason for his restlessness. “And you?”

“Like a top,” she said. “The motel you so generously recommended had all the amenities of, well…a motel.” She flipped a shimmering column of black hair over her shoulder. “But you’ll be glad to know that I may have solved the problem of my living quarters.”

“Oh?”

She raised her eyes to scan the tops of the buildings on Main Street. “I can’t imagine that there isn’t a room to let above one of these Bayberry Cove establishments. I can be quite comfortable here in the middle of everything that goes on in your little town.”

“That is an interesting solution, Louise. I’m sure you’ll find the nightlife in town quite stimulating. Have you checked with any of the shopkeepers yet about vacancies?”

“I don’t need to go door-to-door,” she answered smartly. “I’ve already made one friend in Bayberry Cove who will be helpful.” She pointed to the park across the street, where an old man sat on a bench.

Wes smiled when he recognized the familiar figure who had occupied that particular bench for most of the last five years.

“He was kind enough to give me directions to Pintail Point yesterday,” Louise continued. “I’m sure he’ll help me find a vacancy. I’ll bet he sees everything from that vantage point. And I’ll bet he knows everyone in town.”