The Path to Sunshine Cove Read online

  Jess had to agree.

  The next room they worked in after lunch turned out to contain a treasure trove, a big walk-in closet that was filled with clothing of every possible style and color. It was like something out of a vintage boutique.

  “For years, I’ve been throwing everything I don’t know what to do with in this closet,” Eleanor confessed.

  “These have some value. Vintage clothing in this kind of condition is always hot and I’m sure we could find a vintage clothing store maybe in one of the bigger communities that might take some on consignment.”

  Eleanor snorted and stuck on a particularly ugly yellow hat. “I remember my late mother-in-law wearing this to church on Sundays, without fail. She was quite a dragon, trust me. She didn’t want me to marry her precious Jack because my blood wasn’t nearly blue enough.”

  She looked at herself in the mirror. “All I see when I look at it is her frowning face at Sunday dinner, criticizing me for not using enough yeast in my rolls. I can’t believe anyone would want this ratty old thing.”

  “You may be surprised. It looks like something you might find on a Paris runway right now. I’m not an expert on fashion so I’ll leave that determination to my partner.”

  Yvette had a fantastic eye for design and fashion and they typically consulted together frequently. Jess would snap a picture of several of the items and send them to her to see if her instincts were right, that they carried resale value.

  They spent a few more hours going through the clothing, with Jess taking pictures here and there of things that caught her eye.

  She could tell Eleanor was tired, though the older woman refused to rest when Jess suggested it.

  “We’re almost done with this room. It will be so nice to say we have two rooms done.”

  “It would, but I need to stretch and I think Charlie needs to go out.”

  Eleanor shifted her attention to her cuddly little dog, who was staring at both of them from the doorway with an intent look.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I’ll take him out.”

  “Thank you. I believe I could do with a snack. And I just realized Sophie should be coming home on the school bus soon. She usually hangs out here in the afternoons until Nathaniel comes home from work.”

  How wonderful of Eleanor to be there for her granddaughter, Jess thought as she opened the door for the dog into the fenced area of the gardens.

  Charlie finished his business then ran back inside quickly. When they both returned to the kitchen, she found Eleanor setting out a snack of fruits, vegetables and cheeses.

  “This looks good.”

  “I didn’t eat much lunch and realized I was hungry. Help yourself.”

  She grabbed some grapes and a few cubes of what looked like a good Havarti and set them on one of the plates Eleanor pulled from the cupboard.

  “We’ve been so busy this morning that I really haven’t had time to ask you about yourself.”

  Jess tensed. She really didn’t like talking about her past. “Not much to tell,” she said. “I joined the army out of high school and then a friend and I started Transitions when we both got out.”

  “I know that much. I’m more interested in what you did before that. Where did you grow up?”

  She swallowed a grape then gave some of the glib narrative she had developed over the years. It was the truth, anyway.

  “Our father was in the military so we moved around a lot.”

  “You probably lived in some interesting places, didn’t you?”

  Years later, they all tended to run together in her memory. “We spent some time in Hawaii, Germany, England. All over the place.”

  “Would you say you consider any one of those home?” Eleanor pressed.

  “Tough question. I don’t know. I liked Monterey quite a bit.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Eleanor said with a laugh.

  “Cape Sanctuary reminds me of that area. The same dramatic coastline and scenery.”

  Eleanor nodded. “I’ve always thought so. The landscape here is a bit like the Monterey and Carmel area but without the crowds. The best of both worlds. Of course, we don’t have the same number of quality restaurants and art galleries but we do all right here.”

  Better than all right. Jess knew her sister loved it here. Rachel had stayed through high school, hadn’t she? Even when Jess had tried to convince her to move to Southern California with her.

  “Did you grow up in this area?” Jess asked. She was genuinely curious but was aware she also used the question as a diversionary tactic to keep Eleanor from probing too deeply into Jess’s own history.

  “No. I was raised in Europe and Asia, mostly. Like you, I don’t have any one place I could call home. My parents were both in the foreign service.”

  “That sounds exotic. I imagine you have fascinating stories.”

  “I was in boarding school, for the most part. It was rather lonely, if you want the truth. I went to Stanford for university and ended up meeting Jack my senior year. He was the assistant professor for an English class I was taking. He was seven years older than I was and we both knew it was a completely inappropriate relationship but we fell in love anyway. It was quite scandalous, as I’m sure you can imagine. It was his first university teaching job and he was so afraid we would be found out. Lots of clandestine meetings at my apartment, hotels off campus, that sort of thing.”

  Her dreamy expression gave Jess an odd feeling. Envy, she realized.

  Why? She didn’t want that kind of passion. Ever. Her mother had clearly demonstrated how disastrous it could be to love someone that completely.

  “Jack and I eloped the day after my college graduation,” Eleanor went on with a laugh. “It was the only way he could keep his job.”

  “Did he stay at Stanford?”

  “Another few years and then his mother died and his father grew ill and we decided to move back here to help him. He transferred and we’ve been here ever since. He commuted to Redding to teach there. It wasn’t quite Stanford, but it was the students he loved anyway.”

  Was Eleanor aware her whole expression softened whenever she talked about her husband? Jess found it charming.

  Before she could answer, she heard the front door open and a young voice call out. “Gram? Are you home?”

  “In the kitchen, my dear.”

  An instant later, a young teenage girl came in, maybe thirteen or fourteen. She had light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Jess knew instantly this must be Nate’s daughter, Sophie.

  The girl stopped short in the doorway. “Oh. I didn’t know you had company.”

  “This is my friend Jess Clayton. I told you about her. Jess, this is my granddaughter, Sophia.”

  “Sophie,” the girl said. She tilted her head, studying Jess with interest. “You’re the one who has that adorable trailer parked by the beach trail.”

  “Guilty.”

  “It’s so cute. Is it an antique?”

  “It’s a vintage Airstream from the 1990s but I’m not sure I would call it an antique exactly.”

  “I’ve seen them on Instagram. Did you restore it yourself?”

  “Most of it. It’s been a labor of love for the past few years.”

  “Can I see inside it sometime?”

  She blinked at the unexpected request. Not very many adolescent girls would be interested in a restored Airstream.

  “Sophie has an emerging interest in all things design,” Eleanor explained.

  “That’s terrific,” Jess said. “Good for you. I should tell you that while I did most of the physical work except what I had subcontractors help with, my friend Yvette made all the design choices. It would have been a disaster if I had tried to decorate it myself.”

  Sophie offered her a tentative smile. “I still want to see it sometime. If
you don’t mind.”

  “Why don’t we go now?” Eleanor suggested. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself.”

  “Can we?” Sophie asked.

  Jess felt guilty, thinking of all the work they still had to do here at Eleanor’s house, the rooms they hadn’t yet touched.

  On the other hand, Eleanor was paying for her time. If she wanted to take a break so her granddaughter could see a restored travel trailer, Jess didn’t know that it was her place to argue. Anyway, the Airstream was only twenty-four feet long. The tour only lasted about two minutes.

  “Sure. Let’s go.”

  She did love her little house, with its clever uses of space and the generous light pouring in through the windows encircling it. Eleanor and her granddaughter seemed enthralled with the cabinets and the bathroom wet room that gave her adequate space to shower.

  “It’s so cute. Seriously. The cutest tiny house I’ve ever seen. You really live here all the time?” Sophie asked.

  “Technically I keep an apartment outside LA but I usually only sleep there a few weeks out of the year. The rest of the time, this is home.”

  “That’s so awesome. Maybe I’ll buy one when I graduate from high school and travel around the US and Canada.”

  “After college, you mean?” Eleanor asked pointedly.

  Sophie shrugged. “Or before. Who knows?”

  “Your dad won’t be very happy with that idea,” Eleanor said with a laugh.

  “By then I’ll be eighteen and he won’t get any say in what I do,” the girl retorted.

  The defiance in her voice reminded Jess so painfully of her own stilted relationship with her father at this age. Jess’s father had earned her antagonism. Had Sophie’s?

  She didn’t know the man well enough to make a guess about that.

  “Are you really Rachel McBride’s sister?” Sophie asked as they were heading back to the house. “You don’t seem very much alike.”

  Yes, she had been hearing that for most of her life. Rachel had been sweet and kind, traits Jess could never claim.

  “Yes. Since the day she was born. I’m two years older.”

  “I follow her on Insta. Someday I want to have as many followers as she does.”

  She blinked at this information. It still took her by surprise to be reminded that Rachel had become a social media influencer, mixing images of her kids and her home with charming pictures of the landscape around Cape Sanctuary. Jess didn’t spend a lot of time on social media but she had found that following her sister was the best way to keep up with her nieces and nephew.

  “Rachel is quite a celebrity around here,” Eleanor added.

  “Not just around here,” Sophie said. “My friend Jaycee lives in Florida and her mom follows Rachel. She was excited that I live in the same town as her.”

  “I’m glad she found her niche,” Jess said.

  “She should feature your Airstream. Seriously, it’s so cute.”

  Jess wasn’t sure she liked the idea of all those prying eyes looking into her space.

  “Maybe,” she said in a noncommittal way.

  “Can I help you guys clean stuff out?” Sophie asked when they returned to the kitchen.

  “We’re mostly done for today. I’m only taking a few pictures of some clothes we found in one of the rooms to send to my partner. She’s better than I am at guessing value.”

  “You can help us, if you’d like. But don’t you have homework to do first?” Eleanor asked.

  Was the older woman looking pale again or was it only the difference in light after moving from the sunshine to the indoor lighting?

  “Not much. Half a math worksheet that I didn’t have enough time in class to finish. I’m caught up with everything else.”

  “You can certainly join us, then.”

  As they started toward the wing they had been working in, Eleanor stopped, resting her hand on the edge of a table in the hallway. “On second thought, I’m not feeling the best. Would you mind terribly if I stop for the day and take a nap?”

  Jess frowned, worried all over again about Eleanor’s health. “Am I wearing you out?”

  “It’s not your fault. I was ill a few weeks ago and I don’t quite have my strength back yet, I’m afraid.”

  “Want me to stay with you, Gram?” Sophie asked.

  “No. I’m fine. I’ll just take a snooze in my favorite chair with Charlie on my lap and be good as new in a half hour or so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Don’t you worry about me. Go take your pictures.” She kissed her granddaughter’s head and shooed them down the hall.

  “Is that unusual, for your grandmother to tire so easily?” she asked Sophie.

  The girl shrugged. “Yeah, she gets tired a little more often lately, maybe. Like she said, she was pretty sick a few weeks ago. She didn’t get out of bed for about three days. She hasn’t been herself since then.”

  Jess found it odd that Eleanor had been so energetic first thing that morning and then had tired as the day wore on. She seemed frail, somehow.

  Not her business, Jess reminded herself. She was supposed to be keeping a safe emotional distance from Eleanor, Sophie and everyone else here in Cape Sanctuary.

  Too bad she was having such a hard time remembering that.

  7

  Nate

  When Nate let himself into Whitaker House in the early evening, he expected to find his mother dozing in her easy chair in the TV room, a talk show on and her dog, Charlie, stretched out next to her, wedged into the smallest of spots, while Sophie did her homework or messaged friends nearby.

  Instead, the room was empty. So was the kitchen.

  He was about to call out when he heard female voices coming from the end of the hallway, in a seldom-used wing of the house.

  After a quick stop in the kitchen, he followed the sound. He couldn’t hear what they said, he could only pick up the low murmur of voices and a sound he hadn’t heard in a while, at least not shared with him. His daughter’s laughter.

  The sound hit him hard, as did the laugh he assumed must be coming from Jess Clayton. It was low and genuine and infinitely appealing.

  What had she said to make Sophie laugh? His daughter didn’t even know Jess. Why would she be so open and happy with a strange woman while treating her own father like some kind of pariah?

  He was half-tempted to go back the way he had come and leave them to their fun but then he heard his mother’s laughter join in and couldn’t resist seeing what had amused them all so much.

  The door to the room was open and he peeked in to find a startling sight. Jess sat on the bed while his mother was in a rocking chair in the room. Both of them were focused on Sophie, who was dressed in a fancy blue dress he didn’t recognize.

  “Well? How do I look?” she asked.

  “Smashing, darling,” his mother answered. “Like you stepped right off the cover of a 1920s copy of Vogue.”

  “It looks like it was made for you,” Jess Clayton added with a smile that made him catch his breath. She looked bright and vibrant and beautiful.

  Sophie giggled. “I should have one of those long cigarette holders to complete the look.”

  Eleanor laughed. “You won’t find that here amid these things. Your great-great-grandmother might have been a flapper once upon a time but she hated smoking with a passion. I only met her a few times before she died but I knew she thought it was a nasty habit fit for only floozies.”

  “Ouch,” Jess said.

  “I know. I had to hide my own cigarettes when I first met her after Jack brought me here to meet his parents.”

  That was news to Nate. He couldn’t resist chiming in. “I never knew you used to smoke.”

  All three females in the room looked at him with varying expressions. His mother looked startled but
pleased, Jess immediately took on a guarded expression and Sophie simply looked away, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him.

  “It was a long time ago.” His mother shrugged. “I only picked it up in college because all my friends were smoking. I quit shortly after I married your father.”

  What else didn’t he know about his mother?

  “Sorry to interrupt the fashion show. Looks like fun.”

  “Oh, it has been. We’ve found so many old treasures, haven’t we, girls? Things I had forgotten I still had. It’s been quite a day.”

  “I’m glad you were feeling better enough to join us, after all,” Jess said.

  Eleanor quickly changed the subject, making him wonder if she had been under the weather.

  “We made good progress today. Two rooms down, anyway.”

  “That’s great.”

  “At this rate, it won’t take us long at all to work our way through the house.”

  “May I keep this dress, Gram?” Sophie asked.

  “It’s yours if you want it. You can keep anything else you find, too.”

  “Keep in mind that our house isn’t as big as this one,” Nate pointed out.

  “I know that.”

  How did she manage to convey so much disgust with just a few words? She seemed to have perfected that tone over the past month.

  He sighed inwardly and forced a smile. “I happened to be driving past The Mandarin on my way home and decided Chinese takeout sounded good. Anybody interested?”

  “Ooh. Me!” Eleanor said.

  “Did you get orange chicken?” Sophie asked.

  “Yes. I know that’s your favorite. And kung pao and teriyaki chicken as well as beef with broccoli. Plus rice and their delicious chow mein.”

  “That sounds so good,” Eleanor said. “How did you know I was in the mood for Chinese?”

  “Lucky guess.” He gave Jess a smile, hoping she could take this as the olive branch he intended after his rudeness the day before. “I picked up enough to feed everybody here and about a dozen more people. You’re welcome to some, if you like Chinese.”

  She looked surprised at the invitation and he realized guiltily that he still hadn’t officially apologized for his boorish behavior.