haven’t been here that long.” Taking his aviator sunglasses from their clip on the visor, he put them on and started the engine. “You never know what other surprises we’ve got.”
In response she tilted her cute little nose in the air, but he’d witnessed enough courtroom drama to suspect her confident demeanor was mostly an act.
As he pulled away from the curb, he said, “I think you’ll find the folks around here aren’t like other people you’ve met. They’re proud of being unique.”
“Then we should get along well. I’m not like other people I’ve met, either.”
He slanted her a quick glance. “Are you trying to be a pain, or are you just naturally prickly?”
“Yes.”
Pointedly ignoring him, she slipped on a pair of big, Hollywood-style sunglasses. Cooper knew almost nothing about his passenger, but Nick had warned him that her latest bungle had turned Bree into a virtual leper. His old buddy was the only editor—print or online—with the guts to hire her. During their brief conversation, Cooper had noticed plenty of attitude, not to mention a good-sized chip on her shoulder.
Still, he couldn’t imagine what she might have done to warrant the blackballing she’d received. In his very first Sunday school class, he’d learned that everyone deserved to be forgiven if they truly regretted what they’d done. As he got older, his mother had told him more than once that the people who seemed to want it the least needed it the most.
It was possible that the sarcastic young woman beside him was one of those people.
From the corner of his eye he saw Bree slide her tablet from her messenger bag. When she tried to wake the screen, she groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“That won’t work out here, but there’s internet at the lighthouse, to keep track of the satellite weather reports. You should be able to connect to that.”
She eyed the distant beacon with no enthusiasm at all. “It’s kind of isolated out there. Us city girls are used to working where there’s things going on. There must be a café in town with an open connection.”
“Nope.”
Clearly horrified by the lack of technology in Holiday Harbor, she nudged her glasses down and scowled at him in the rearview mirror. “If you want people to come visit this place, you’ve got to bring it into the twenty-first century.”
“Don’t folks go on vacation to get away from all that?” Focused on the two-lane road that wound its way toward the ocean, he motioned to her tablet. “I mean, most days when I get home, I’m happy to turn it all off and go for a sail.”
“That’s nice for you, but for the rest of us, modern technology makes the world go ’round.”
Prickly and hard to please, he thought with a mental groan. Just what he needed. But she was his guest, and her impression of Holiday Harbor would undoubtedly affect the way she depicted the town to her readers. Keeping her happy was in everyone’s best interest. “I’ve got Wi-Fi at my office. You’re welcome to use it instead.”
“I just might take you up on that.”
“Anytime. It’s on Main Street, in the cream-colored building next to the gnome store.”
That got him a short, sarcastic laugh. “Of course it is.”
He’d finally had enough. But when he shot her a glare, it made no impression at all because she was staring in the other direction. He came dangerously close to giving her a piece of his mind, but decided to give her a break. She’d called herself a city girl, and the quaint fishing village must feel as alien to her as the face of the moon. He’d just have to show her how beautiful his hometown was.
For her article, of course. Intriguing as she might be under all that attitude, her personal opinion couldn’t possibly matter less to him.
“Here it is,” he announced as they crested the last rise and descended toward the water’s edge. “Last Chance Lighthouse.”
Chapter Two
Cooper stopped at the end of a dirt lane, putting the car in Park as Bree took out her camera and stood up for an unobstructed view. When she let out a dreamy sigh, he leaned back in his seat and smiled. Mission accomplished.
“This is amazing,” she breathed.
A driveway crisscrossed with ruts led out to the rocky point topped by the lighthouse. The breeze coming off the water came and went, whipping her ponytail around one second and dying off the next. Waves crashed against the outcropping of unforgiving rocks, which had taken down several ships before the warning beacon was finally built.
Seagulls circled overhead, calling out to each other as they glided through the air. Cooper watched Bree expertly single out one that appeared to be zooming in on something under the surf. Rapidly snapping frame after frame, she followed the bird as it dropped down and came out with a fish.
“It’s pretty,” she said, as if the description had just occurred to her. “In a salty-around-the-edges kind of way, y’know?”
“Yeah, I think so, too.”
“You almost expect to see the ghost of some old sea captain standing on the balcony, staring out to sea, looking for the ship he lost years ago.”
The fanciful image surprised him, mostly because with just a few words, she’d painted a picture in his mind he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. She had a real gift, he thought with a smile. He wondered if she knew how incredible she was. It was, he corrected himself quickly, relieved that he’d had the good sense not to be thinking out loud.
Craning her neck, she surveyed the area hopefully and then sighed. “You’re kidding. There’s nothing else out here.”
He’d come to terms with her less-than-flattering perspective of his home, so this time Cooper chuckled as he put the car in Drive and turned onto the lane. “The keeper’s widow, Mavis Freeman, runs a B and B for special guests. Very exclusive, like the finest hotels.”
He flashed Bree a grin and was pleased to hear her laugh. He congratulated himself on prying some levity out of the very intense young woman who’d landed in his town.
“Mavis doesn’t warm up to strangers right away,” he warned as they left the car and climbed a few stone steps worn down by decades of wind-driven sand. There was no doorbell or knocker, so he pulled the rope on the brass ship’s bell next to the bright red door. “Just be patient with her.”
Bree seemed so taken with the place, he wasn’t sure she’d heard him. He was about to caution her again when the door swung inward on creaky iron hinges.
Mavis squinted up at him. “Who’s there?”
“Where are your glasses?” Cooper demanded. “You know you’re supposed to wear them all the time.”
“Don’t need ’em when I’m crocheting.” Her cranky response told him she might have started out crocheting but had ended up napping. “You’ve got no business giving me orders,
