Cottage by the Sea

She moved into the kitchen to search out something for dinner, and again her attention went to the small collection from Keaton. Other than a few shattered seashells when she’d walked along the beach, Annie had never come across the kind of treasures that Keaton routinely gave her. She’d searched, but often her thoughts were wrapped around memories of her family instead. She found comfort in the wind buffeting against her, flinging her hair about her face. She’d felt closer to the family she’d lost with the sound of the surf humming in her ears, whispering memories of happier times and shared joys. The grief didn’t seem quite as heavy.

  Annie’s musings were interrupted by a quiet knock against her front door. She stood to answer, intuitively knowing it was Keaton. He found no need to announce himself with brash clamor. He was a quiet man, strong and solid. An immediate smile settled over her when she saw him standing on the other side of the door. He wore his work clothes, paint-smeared overalls and work boots. It was clear he’d come directly from a job site.

  “Keaton,” she said, more than pleased to see him. “Come in!”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t stay.”

  She hid her disappointment. “I found the starfish. I love it. Thank you, as always.”

  He grinned. It usually took him a while to work his way up to a real conversation. Annie was patient. He’d loop more than two or three words together when he was ready.

  “I have another gift.”

  “Did you leave it on the porch?” Annie had seen only the one.

  “I have it with me.” Reaching into the bib of his overalls, he scooped up a tiny gray-and-white kitten that was little more than a ball of fur.

  “A kitten?” she asked incredulously. She’d never owned one. Her family had always been dog people. Annie and Mike had grown up with a series of small dogs they’d loved as fiercely as any member of the family. The closest she’d been to a cat was when Mellie’s cat would peer out the window at her.

  Keaton kissed the top of the small creature’s head. “This is a special one.” He handed her the kitten and his eyes held hers looking for her reaction. “He’s deaf and Mellie thinks he’s only four to five weeks old by his size.”

  “Deaf,” she repeated, bringing the ball of fur close to her body and gently petting his soft fur.

  “Preston found him on the side of the road, discarded like garbage.”

  “No,” she cried, appalled that anyone would do anything so cruel and unfeeling.

  “The shelter is full, and he was looking for a good home.”

  “And, naturally, you took him.” Caring for defenseless animals was one of the reasons she was so strongly attracted to Keaton.

  “I got him for you. He belongs with you.”

  “Oh? And why is that?” She couldn’t help being curious.

  He looked away. “Because you are willing to accept those who are less than perfect. You have a good heart…and I thought that maybe you needed this kitten as much as he needs you.”

  He must have read the question in her eyes, because he continued.

  “I’ve seen you on the beach, Annie,” he said, his voice gentle. “I know you carry a heavy pain. Your eyes speak of loss.”

  “I…”

  “It’s all right. You don’t need to tell me who broke your heart. I thought giving you this kitten to love would help.”

  She blinked up at him as the moisture unexpectedly filled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered and held the kitten gently below her chin. “I’ll give him a good home.”

  “I know you will. When he’s asleep, blow on his face,” Keaton instructed, running his index finger over the kitten’s head, gently petting him as he slept in Annie’s arms.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “To let him know you’re there.”

  “Okay.” Her mind was working fast. She’d need to get all the things required for a cat, and not just any cat, but this special little guy. Thankfully, she had milk in the refrigerator. First thing Monday she’d make an appointment with the vet’s office and have him checked out. She hoped to learn if the cat’s deafness had been caused by an injury or if it was genetic.

  “You don’t need to worry about caring for him. Just give him food and water and plenty of love and the two of you will be fine.”

  It was spooky the way he could read her mind.

  “Remember, he needs you,” Keaton said, looking more serious than she could ever remember him looking before.

  It was almost as if he was telling Annie that he needed her, too, and how important she had become to him.

  “I won’t forget,” she said, and kissed the top of the kitten’s head in the same way he had.

  Keaton wrapped his arms around her and then, to her disappointment, quickly released her. “I don’t want to get paint on you.”

  “I don’t care if you do or not,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him.

  It didn’t take much for them to become fully involved in kissing. She felt his reluctance as he broke contact. “I need to go.”

  “Okay.”

  Still he hesitated. “You picked out a name for him?”

  Mulling over a short list that immediately came to mind, she hit upon one she felt would be perfect. “Ringo.”

  “Ringo,” he repeated.

  “Yes, I want Lennon and Ringo to be friends.”

  “Good name.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  He retreated, his eyes holding hers. She read his regret. “I really hate to go.”

  Not nearly as much as she hated seeing him leave.

  “I have to work,” he explained.

  “Another time, then.” Annie remained in the doorway and watched Keaton walk away. When he was out of sight, she closed the door. Not more than a minute passed before her phone rang. Annie smiled when she saw that the caller was Mellie.

  “Did he give you that deaf cat?” she blurted out.

  “Yup.” Annie set Ringo down next to her on the sofa. The kitten curled up in a minuscule ball, content to be close to her side.

  “You keeping it?”

  “Yup. Named him Ringo.”

  “Ringo,” Mellie repeated, acting like the name was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.

  “I think it’s cute.”

  “You two are starting to get on my nerves,” Mellie muttered.

  “Why’s that?” She wouldn’t dare to guess. From everything Mellie had said, Annie had always been a thorn in her side.

  “Never mind.”

  “No, please, I want to know.”

  Mellie huffed. “It’s like the two of you are characters in a romance novel. Kissing and staring at each other with stars in your eyes.”

  “You read romances?” Annie asked, refusing to take offense at her comments.

  The question went unanswered. Then, “You want to make something of it?”

  “I read them, too, on occasion,” Annie confessed, enjoying the way Mellie had bristled as if she was ready to defend to the death her choice in reading material.

  “You?” she questioned, doubtfully.

  “I have a few here that I’d be happy to share,” Annie said.

  “If you want, I’ll take them off your hands.”

  This was exactly the in that Annie had been waiting for. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be happy to bring them over. We can have tea the way I mentioned a while back.”

  Mellie answered with a snicker. “I’m not that desperate.”

  Annie grinned. “Mellie, please, you’re hurting my feelings.”

  Her almost-friend made a grumbling sound and cut off the call, but not before Annie heard what she could only believe was a chuckle.

  CHAPTER 16

  Sunday morning, when Annie woke, Ringo was asleep on th
e pillow next to her. He was adorable, and her heart melted as she gently blew in his face, afraid if she petted him it would startle the kitten. This had been Keaton’s suggestion, and it seemed to work well. Ringo opened his eyes and stretched his legs and meowed in a small voice, telling her that he was hungry. That was how Annie interpreted it, anyway. Carrying him into the kitchen, she set a bowl of milk on the floor. Ringo immediately started lapping it up.

  “I’m heading to church,” she said, knowing that even if Ringo could hear, he wouldn’t understand a word of what she said. “I’ll stop off at the store on the way home.” She had a short grocery list, plus items she would need to properly care for Ringo. He hadn’t been with her even twenty-four hours and already he felt like a part of her. She suspected it was because Keaton had given her the kitten. She continued with her monologue. “Candi is stopping by and we’re going to lunch later.”

  Ringo stared up at her before chasing after a dust ball. Annie laughed as she watched him and knew she was going to enjoy having a pet. She mulled over how Keaton had sensed the comfort this tiny kitten would give her. It was obvious that he needed her. But then he’d added that she needed him, too. Although Keaton knew nothing about the tragedy—no one in Oceanside did—he had intuitively understood that she carried a searing pain within her soul.

  Finishing the milk, the kitten looked up at her lovingly. She found a box and placed a folded fleece blanket in it and set him inside, hoping he would be content until she returned.

  “Be good while I’m away,” she whispered, and she gently petted his back with her index finger. He was incredibly small and fragile, and in many ways, so was she. She hesitated, looking down on this tiny creature, and felt a tug in her heart. She was going to love this kitten.

  She left the house and headed around the side of the cottage to where she’d parked her SUV. Because she usually walked to the clinic, she rarely drove the vehicle, as everything she needed was within walking distance. At some point, she planned on buying a bicycle.

  Right away she noticed something was wrong. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

  All four of her tires had been slashed.

  “No,” she breathed, cupping her hand over her mouth. No one needed to tell her who was responsible. Annie knew.

  Carl Hoffert.

  He’d warned her that there was a price to pay for interfering, for contacting the authorities about him, for causing him the humiliation of undergoing an interview with a former classmate of his.

  Bunching her fists at her sides, Annie closed her eyes to hold back an angry outburst. On the inside, she was stomping her foot and screaming in frustration. Annie refused to give Carl Hoffert the satisfaction of losing her temper.

  Unable to attend church without a car, she returned to the house and reached for Ringo, knowing that holding him would help her relax. She’d wait until later to walk to the store. The shopping area was less than a mile away.

  Going online, she found a tire shop, but because it was Sunday, she wouldn’t be able to contact them until Monday morning. The frustration was maddening.

  To deal with her irritation, she decided to clean house, scrubbing at every available surface with a vengeance until she was panting with exhaustion. She worked for more than an hour, sweat beading her forehead. Her tank top was sticking to her body. A scarf held back her hair. She was convinced she looked utterly pitiful when a loud knock came from her front door. Her heart leapt, afraid it might be Carl. Squaring her shoulders, she was determined not to show him any fear.

  Only it wasn’t Carl. It was Keaton. His eyes were like fire, anger burning as he shouted a demand.

  “Who?” In his fury, he had trouble getting out any more than a single word. He’d seen her tires.

  “Come inside.” She reached for his hand and led him into the cottage.

  “Who?” he demanded again, louder this time, his massive fists clenched at his sides.

  “Keaton, please, sit down.” The last thing she wanted was for him to take matters into his own hands.

  “No,” he insisted, shaking his head. Annie had reacted the same way when she’d first seen her ruined tires. All he needed was a few minutes to calm himself and then she’d explain.

  “I brought this on myself,” she said, expelling a sigh.

  At her words, he whirled around and faced her. “Don’t believe that. Tell me who.”

  She took in a deep breath, hoping that would calm her, and him, too. “I can’t say for sure, but I have my suspicions.”

  Keaton continued to pace her small living room, growing more agitated by the minute.

  “Getting angry isn’t going to help the situation. Besides, I’m upset enough for the both of us.”

  He rammed his fingers through his hair and clenched his jaw. “Tell me.”

  “Would you like some coffee to settle your nerves?” she asked instead. She’d never seen Keaton angry before, and it was something to behold. He was terrifying. If she didn’t already know and trust him, seeing his red face and clenched fists as he loomed over her would have stopped her heart. She could only imagine how someone who didn’t know him would feel, seeing him this enraged.

  “No coffee. Talk to me,” he insisted.

  From time spent with Keaton, Annie had noticed when he became frustrated or emotional, he spoke in incomplete sentences. His words were jerky and disconnected, almost as if he had trouble forming a coherent thought.

  “How did you know about my tires?” she asked. Despite his refusal, she poured him a mug of coffee.

  “Saw them…when I brought Mellie’s groceries. Who?” he demanded again, leaving the hot coffee on the counter untouched.

  Putting him off clearly wasn’t working. “My guess is that it was Carl Hoffert.”

  His face became inquisitive, as though he found it inconceivable that she would have anything to do with the man. “You know Carl?”

  She braced her hands against the kitchen counter that separated them. “By default.” Because of privacy laws, she couldn’t mention the situation with Logan’s broken arm. “I heard his wife cleans houses and I wanted to hire her. I had a run-in with her husband.” As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t give him any other information.

  “What do you mean by a run-in?” His look was skeptical. “What happened?” he demanded.

  “He doesn’t take too kindly to uninvited company, I found out.”

  “I know Carl. He has a temper. I’m not letting him anywhere near you.” Keaton abruptly headed for the door, nearly throwing it off its hinges in his rush to leave.

  “Keaton,” she said forcefully, compelling him to look at her. She went to him and grabbed hold of his arm, her eyes pleading with him. “Don’t. Please.”

  He hesitated. “There’s more. You’re not telling me everything.”

  “I can’t.”

  “He…He…threatened you?” Keaton struggled to get the words out.

  Afraid of what he might do, Annie wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him with all her strength, hoping to waylay him before he did something foolish. Keaton remained as stiff as an oak tree for several moments before he released a ragged sigh and hugged her back.

  “I won’t…have you hurt.”

  “I’m fine. Yes, the tires are an inconvenience and an expense. I was angry when I saw them, too, but it isn’t the end of the world.” Compared to other losses she’d experienced, four slashed tires were barely a blip on the map of life.

  “I should never have gone to the house, so the blame is on me. I didn’t take his threats seriously, but I probably should have. It’s fine now. He took it out on the tires; the worst is over.”

  Annie could feel Keaton’s anger easing as his body relaxed. “He should pay,” he muttered.

  “I’m convinced he will eventually.” She’d done what she could. Her
hope was that Teresa would take the position as housekeeper, even against her husband’s wishes. That would give Annie the chance to talk to the other woman about her situation. Perhaps then Teresa would find the courage to leave him.

  Keaton wasn’t willing to drop it. “Not good enough.”

  “No, please. If you have any feelings for me, then don’t take matters into your own hands. No good will come of that.”

  His frown darkened.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish. Promise me,” she repeated.

  He stubbornly refused, until she pressed the side of her head against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady in her ear, calming her. Gradually his arms came around her and he pressed his lips against the top of her head, holding her close with a tenderness that left her feeling cherished.

  Although Annie didn’t dare admit it, she loved the quick way in which Keaton had come to her defense. She’d never had anyone do that—well, other than her father, who had been as fiercely protective of her as Keaton was. Certainly no man she’d ever dated. Not that she’d been in situations like this before. This was new territory.

  Keaton’s phone hummed in his pocket, indicating that he had a call. He’d apparently put it on vibrate.

  Reluctantly, Annie broke away from him. He reached for his phone, read the screen, and let the call go to voicemail. Within seconds her phone rang.

  “It’s Mellie,” he explained. “Ignore it.”

  She did as he asked. “I imagine she wants her groceries.”

  Cupping the sides of Annie’s face with his large hands, Keaton exhaled deeply, not wanting to leave her. “Probably,” he agreed.

  Annie wondered if Mellie had seen the damage done to her car. Progress had been made in their up-and-down relationship. The woman wasn’t going to win any congeniality awards. But Annie was willing to overlook her landlord’s gruffness in the hope of eventually becoming friends. If she could manage that, then at the end of her lease perhaps Mellie would be willing to let her renew for another year.

  “I think Mellie might be warming up to me,” she proudly told Keaton.

  “Oh?” Keaton grinned, believing there wasn’t anyone her smile couldn’t win over.