Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(9)
Author: Irene Hannon
“Empty, though. Love and laughter would bring it alive again.” Charley began assembling the tacos.
Ashley squinted at him.
How much did he know about the purpose of her visit? She’d told no one except her mother and Eric Nash, and it wasn’t likely Rose had talked about their potential partnership with anyone other than her lawyer.
“I’m sure there was love and laughter there in days gone by.”
“Without a doubt.” Charley added a dollop of sauce to each taco, then started wrapping them in white paper. “I expect Rose would like to see that again. There’s been too much sadness at Edgecliff.”
“I agree. But she loves the place anyway. She says she has fond memories of childhood vacations spent there.”
Well, shoot.
So much for being circumspect.
“Happy memories are a treasure that make hard days easier to bear. And they help keep bitterness at bay. Rose is an inspiring illustration of that. I admire her great capacity to find quiet joy amid trials and tribulations.”
Ashley gave the taco chef a slow blink.
How well did he know the woman? Near as she’d been able to discern from the references Rose had provided and the research she’d done, the sole occupant of Edgecliff wasn’t close to anyone now living.
“Would you like a bottle of water to go with your tacos?” Charley slipped the three packets into a brown paper bag.
“Yes. Thanks.”
He added the beverage and slid the bag across the counter. “Enjoy.”
“How much do I owe you?” Ashley opened her purse, still trying to wrap her mind around Charley’s familiarity with Rose.
“First taco order for newcomers is on the house.”
He was giving her a free lunch?
Frowning, she waved a hand toward the family group that had claimed a bench by the wharf. Clearly tourists, based on the Cardinals baseball T-shirt one of the younger boys wore. “Do you give free tacos to every first-time customer?”
“A newcomer is different than a customer.” Charley began lowering the window. “Break time. Visit the lighthouse if you have a few minutes. Wonderful view from up there. And please tell Rose I said hello.”
The window clicked shut.
For several seconds, Ashley remained by the shuttered taco truck, fingers crimped around the top of the paper bag.
That had been a strange encounter.
Then again, this trip had been filled with strange encounters.
An unsociable, chain-saw-wielding man at the gates of Edgecliff.
A reclusive owner who’d greeted her in turn-of-the-century attire.
Now a taco-making artist who knew an awful lot about a woman and an estate that, for most people, were shrouded in mystery.
Eric Nash had been the only normal person she’d met.
The aroma emanating from the bag tickled her nose, and Ashley wandered down the wharf. Claimed a bench. Twisted the cap on her water and pulled one of the wrapped bundles from the bag.
If Mom were here, she’d be uncomfortable with the whole setup. Anything that couldn’t be explained with charts, graphs, tables, or diagrams was anathema to Jessica Scott.
In general, it would bother her to some degree too.
So why wasn’t she more disconcerted? Nervous, even?
She unwrapped the taco as two seagulls fluttered down to the pavement beside her. Broke off a piece of fish and tossed it to one of the birds, who pecked it in half and pushed a portion toward his companion.
Sweet—and endearing.
Like Rose.
The woman’s willingness to look to the future, and her desire to create a legacy of joy and love despite all the tragedy that had darkened her life, were touching.
Ashley poked a loose piece of red onion back into her taco and spread a generous paper napkin on her lap.
As for Charley . . . the man was intriguing. Somehow he’d managed to get to know Rose. Yet it wasn’t hard to figure out how he’d infiltrated the older woman’s defenses. There was a quality about him that encouraged trust and confidences, and the quiet peace radiating from him was calming. Like a refuge in the midst of a storm.
The chain-saw-wielding guy? Different story. While he’d exhibited no ill intent during their encounter, there had been an off-putting, almost furtive quality in his manner. As if he had something to hide and couldn’t get away fast enough. There’d been no redeeming qualities about their brief meeting.
Nevertheless, it was hard not to feel a bit sorry for the man. Someone that unsociable must have been hurt somewhere along the way. Like the abused pup she and Dad had found years ago, who’d nipped at them and refused to let them get close for weeks until they proved they weren’t going to hurt him.
An odd analogy to come up with for a stranger, but it somehow felt apt.
Ashley bit into her taco, and as the tangy sauce, spicy seasoning, subtle sweetness of the onion, and savory grilled fish sent her taste buds into nirvana, she closed her eyes.
Eric Nash hadn’t been kidding.
These tacos were heaven.
In fact, this serene little town with its interesting characters, beautiful setting, and sense of possibilities, also had a certain utopian appeal.
So once she finished her lunch, she’d call Eric’s wife and the Greenscape company he’d mentioned and set up appointments to have them look Edgecliff over and give her their assessment and estimates.
Then she’d say a few prayers and hope whatever numbers came back didn’t nix the deal.
Because unless the maintenance records from Rose’s lawyer indicated a pattern of major problems and expensive repairs, she was pretty certain Hope Harbor was about to become her new home.
David was calling.
Of course.
The surprise was that it had taken him this long.
Lips bowing, Rose took a sip of her tea, set the cup down, and pressed the talk button on her cell. “Good morning, David.”
“Hello, Rose. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all. I’m having my afternoon tea on the terrace. It’s a beautiful day at Edgecliff.”