Against The Tide

“Is everything okay? We were getting worried.”

Rocky came bounding over to him, and Garret leaned down to stroke his smooth coat. “Hey, there, buddy. Did you keep Megan safe?”

“He was an excellent guard,” Megan said as she joined him. She frowned at the Jeep. “Is this my dad’s?”

“Yeah.” He pointed to the slit in the roof. “Someone broke into my shop...and they broke into Rory’s Jeep, too.” He pulled out his phone. “I was just about to call someone about it.”

“911 again?”

“Nah, I’ll just call Michael this time. Put it on his radar.”

As he explained to the lieutenant about the break-in, Megan bent down to look inside the Jeep. She gathered up the scattered papers, stacking the vehicle manual, insurance information and registration together. With a deep sigh, she held them to her chest and then, almost reverently, she slid them back into the glove compartment. Garret knew she was in pain over the loss of her dad, but it would be hard for her to deal with her grief if this madness continued. He knew she was strong, but he wondered how much she could take.

He finished his conversation with Michael, slipping his phone back into his pocket, just as Megan stood up from straightening the Jeep. She looked at him with an uneasy expression. “I just don’t understand it, Garret. Something is going on here. But what is it? And why?”

“I have some ideas.” Garret glanced at his watch. “Maybe we can discuss it over breakfast. I’m starved. How about you?”

She nodded. “I’m hungry, too.”

“Well, I’ve been told I make a pretty mean omelet,” he said as he led her out of the shop, sliding the door closed. “Care to give it a try?”

“Sounds good to me.”

As they walked over to his cabin, he noticed that she’d changed into jeans, a plaid shirt and a sturdy-looking pair of walking boots. She looked much less like a city girl now. More suited to Cape Perpetua. And she looked pretty, too. She looked like the kind of girl he’d dreamed of meeting someday. Although he’d dreamed of different circumstances.

“Welcome,” he said as he opened the door to the largest cabin, the one that had belonged to his grandparents.

“Wow, this is nice,” she said as she went inside.

“Thanks. My grandma had some renovations made, back in the nineties. There are some things I’d still like to change, but I’ve been focusing my efforts—and budget—on the fishing cabins, instead.”

“For fishing cabins, they seem pretty nice.” She went over to the big picture window that faced the river. “Wow, what a view.”

“Yeah, I like it. Feel free to look around while I start on breakfast.”

She went to the oversize fireplace. “I love these river stones.” She ran her hand over the wood mantel, without mentioning the dust he knew was there. His housekeeping skills weren’t the greatest.

“Let’s see.” He opened the fridge, looking to see what kind of options he might have to fill an omelet. “I’ve got mushrooms and spinach and onions and cheese and—”

“Those all sound good,” she said with enthusiasm.

“Okay.” He started setting the ingredients out on the counter by the stove.

“Need any help?”

“Do you like coffee?”

“Love it.”

“Know how to make it?”

“I think I can figure it out,” she said with a trace of sarcasm as she went over to where the coffeemaker was next to the sink, making herself busy.