Love In Catalina Cove. Brenda Jackson

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Love In Catalina Cove - Brenda Jackson

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man the land the mansion sat on for his loyalty.

      Vashti couldn’t imagine anyone tearing it down to build anything else here and in a way she understood the town for trying to block it from happening. A part of her knew her aunt would probably not want it to happen either.

      She quickly pushed that thought from her mind. The structure no longer belonged to her aunt. It was hers to do whatever she wanted with and she wanted to sell it. Even if she entertained the thought of keeping it, she didn’t have the money it would take to bring the inn back to the grandiose place it had once been. Besides, her life was in New York now. Convincing the zoning board to remove their restrictions was her top priority and what the buyer decided to do with it was no concern of hers. But still...

      She remembered the good times she used to have here. Shelby by the Sea had once been her lifeline. When she and her parents hadn’t seen eye to eye during her pregnancy, it had been her home. Aunt Shelby had always been her champion. Someone who’d understood her when her parents had not. And this inn had given her an escape when she had needed it most.

      And she’d never forget that the property adjacent to the inn was where her child had been conceived. At sixteen she was convinced she was in love and the thought of sneaking around behind her parents’ backs seemed like no big deal at the time. It had been first love. Innocent love. Until one day during a picnic in the marshes by the sea, at what they thought of as their private place, things had gotten out of hand, passion had overtaken good sense and neither of them had been prepared for it. Nor had they been prepared for how their lives had changed afterward.

      Pushing those memories to the back of her mind, she opened the door to get out of the car. Even with the For Sale sign posted near the street, it was hard to tell the inn was vacant. It had that open-for-business look. Vashti glanced at the huge wooden front door, expecting it to swing open and for her aunt to step out, directly into the sunlight with a huge smile on her face and a welcoming glint in her eyes. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. Shelby Riggs was no longer here.

      She glanced down at the ground a moment, feeling her aunt’s absence more deeply now than when she’d gotten the call from her parents that her aunt had died. It had been a shock since Vashti had just spoken with her the night before. It was their usual routine to talk to each other every Saturday night and the topics of conversation were to be anything other than the cove. That was why Vashti hadn’t known about the town’s new sheriff or that Kaegan had returned home. So they discussed other things like fashion, her work, the inn, movies and when they would take their next trip together.

      Vashti missed those calls. Now more than ever she appreciated the times she and her aunt had managed to spend together over the years. It was sad that she and her mother had never developed that same closeness. It was as if after getting pregnant her mother couldn’t stand being around her at times. She knew she had let her parents down, had caused them embarrassment in town, but she hadn’t expected them to blame her for everything. Her father had wanted the name of the boy who had gotten her pregnant, and when she’d refused to give it to him all hell had broken loose in the Alcindor household. That’s when they began making plans for her, although she hadn’t agreed with any of them. Nothing she said would change their minds. Even Aunt Shelby tried reasoning with them and offered to take care of the baby while she finished school. But her parents didn’t want to hear anything. She had agreed to go to the unwed home, but she never signed any papers to give her child up for adoption. Her baby had been born a few weeks early and due to complications at birth, her son hadn’t lived.

      Lifting her head up, Vashti looked into the sky as the sound of the gulf filled her ears. The sky was a beautiful blue and the few clouds she could see appeared a snowy white. A part of her believed at that moment her aunt was looking down at her smiling. Or was she? Did Aunt Shelby have anything to smile about knowing Vashti had decided to let someone destroy the home that had meant so much to her?

      Vashti bristled at the thought, reminding herself that at no time had her aunt asked her to not sell the place. But still, there was that niggling thought that wouldn’t let her be now that she was here. Was it something her aunt just assumed she wouldn’t do?

      She rubbed a hand down her face, hating she’d begun second-guessing her decision. Especially when ten million dollars were at stake. That was the only reason she had returned to the cove and no matter what, she must not forget it. Nothing else would have brought her back here.

      Turning, she moved toward the steps, taking them two at a time like she’d always done. Bryce had given her the code to the Realtor lockbox and within seconds she was opening the door to go inside. Although the house had been closed up for a while, the scent of gardenias was in the air. It was a good smell and one she remembered. It came from all the gardenia bushes planted around the side of the house. Magnolias were another of her aunt’s favorite flowering trees and you would catch their scent when you walked in the backyard toward the gazebo.

      Vashti stepped from the foyer into the living room parlor and glanced around. All the furniture was covered. Now that she knew if the Barnes Group did buy the inn they would tear it down, she hoped they planned to sell all the furnishings. Most of it was costly and were original pieces.

      “Stay focused,” she told herself after seeing how run-down the place looked. Paint was peeling off the walls and there were brown stains on the ceiling that indicated some type of water damage. The inn had been vacant for about six months. At least it hadn’t been vandalized or anything and she was grateful for that. She headed for the stairs, deciding to check out the kitchen and dining room later. “Whatever the developer decides to do is not your business. Remain detached from this place,” she muttered to herself.

      When she reached the landing to the second floor everything looked the same. Like downstairs, paint was peeling off the walls and she noticed a number of items needed to be placed on a “to be repaired” list. In addition to the bedrooms downstairs, there were ten bedrooms on the second floor, five on the third floor, and two huge studio-sized bedrooms on the fourth. The majority of the bedrooms faced the cove and provided a panoramic view of the gulf. From there you could see the boardwalk that led to the beach. She recalled when that boardwalk had been constructed with steps that led down the marshy path to the cove. In the evening lanterns were timed to come on at dusk to light the path. Vashti remembered how she would sit on those boardwalk steps for hours to stare out at the gulf.

      She took the stairs down to the living room. Too many feelings were crushing down on her, but she refused to give in to emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with.

      Squaring her shoulders, instead of moving toward the front door, she turned toward her aunt’s bedroom. She stopped in the doorway and drew in a deep breath. The room didn’t smell of gardenias but of vanilla, her aunt’s favorite scent. Vashti was convinced the aroma had seeped through the floors and walls. Inhaling it now reminded her so much of her aunt and so many cherished memories.

      She’d always loved her aunt’s bedroom with the massive bed and complementing furnishing. The triple windows provided a beautiful view of a number of oak trees covered in Spanish moss. There was also the gazebo where many weddings had been held over the years. With the gulf as a backdrop, it was the perfect place for such celebrations. Leaving her aunt’s room she saw the guestroom that had been Vashti’s. Same furnishings, same decor and noted repairs needed.

      She glanced at the trophy rack her aunt had bought to hold all the trophies Vashti had received in baton twirling. There were a number of them for all the years she’d aced the competitions and had once even gone on to win the national championship before finishing high school. Funny, she hadn’t twirled a baton in years. She knew somewhere in this room she would find her baton.

      Vashti smiled when she saw it hanging on a rack on the wall. She was not surprised her aunt had kept it and her trophies. When

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