Page 4 of Sugar Plum Serenade

CHAPTER 2

Olive opened her eyes much too early on the morning of her second day in retail. She tried to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t happening. This was an unexpected and new situation for her, temporarily living in a new place and taking over the boutique for a couple of weeks. The thoughts that came with all that kept her awake. She’d never done well with change. And yet that’s what life was, apparently. Constant change.

There were always things to do before she unlocked the boutique door at ten. Cleaning, organizing, a little paperwork. But no matter how much work was waiting for her, no matter how early she’d awakened in the strange bed, there was no reason to get to Dawn’s Radiance two hours ahead of time.

She crawled out of bed, stumbled to the kitchen, and made a single cup of coffee. The house had come fully furnished and included a small coffee maker that took pods. Not her favorite method of preparation, but it would do. With caffeine kicking in she pulled on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and headed out, locking the door behind her. It was a little brisk, but the cool air felt good. Invigorating.

As she walked past Tuck’s house, she couldn’t help but glance in that direction. All was quiet, as if the house and everyone and everything in it slept. It didn’t seem to be his style, not at all. She would’ve pictured him in an efficient apartment, or a modern house, or a small cottage. This house… it was kind of magnificent. It had been built for a family. Did he have one she didn’t know about? A wife, kids, holidays and birthdays celebrated with style. But as far as she knew, Tuck was alone. Unattached.

His truck, a fairly new gray monstrosity, was parked in the driveway. He worked at night, kept hours that suited his business, so he was probably sleeping soundly. Alone?

A weird sensation swept over her, sending a chill down her spine. Not her business. She didn’t care.

The other houses she passed before she turned toward the beach all sported Christmas decorations. Some were small and tasteful. A wreath. A little bit of festive garland on a banister. Others had gone all out with lights and inflatable Santas and snowmen. One of the Santas had lost some air and sagged a bit.

The walk from her turn at the end of the street to the beach was relatively short. If she was going to live near the water she might as well take advantage of it. This wasn’t good weather for swimming or sunbathing, but the gulf was magnificent no matter what time of the year it was.

Olive took off her shoes and left them behind to walk toward the water, enjoying the feel of cool sand between her toes, the sound of the waves, the scent of salt water. The sun was barely up; the soft light was perfect, a gentle welcome to a new day.

She’d been overthinking the situation she found herself in. Yes, everything was different this year, but she could make this a good day even if it was getting close to Christmas. She could make all the days during her stay in Seawolf Beach good ones, if she adjusted her thinking a little. If she could just let go.

One of these days she was going to have to leave her distaste of the holiday behind. She knew it, told herself that every year. And yet on some winter days she wallowed and threw herself a pity party. Why? Wallowing wasn’t good for anyone.

She had the beach and the magnificent view before her to herself, until a runner approached at a slow, steady pace. No shirt in this weather. And shorts! Movement probably kept him warm enough, but to her he looked cold. As he drew closer, she recognized Coltrane Hart. He looked serious, focused… and he wasn’t talking to air this morning, as he so often did.

Colt smiled and slowed as he approached. When he wasn’t acting weird, he was pretty appealing. Handsome, with a runner’s body and a nice smile. It was hard to focus on that when he was fully dressed and talking to himself.

“How’s everything with the house?” he asked as he came to a stop a few feet away.

“Great,” she said. “I love it.”

“Good. If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call.”

“Thanks.” She’d be more likely to contact his fiancée if she needed anything, but still, the offer was nice. “Anna doesn’t run with you?”

“Anna isn’t a morning person.” Colt smiled, and his affection shone through. His love was evident in the way he said Anna, and in the warm gleam in his eyes.

It had been a long time, but she didn’t think Stefan had ever looked this way when he said her name. So why the hell did she still think about him, at all?

“Dawn told me about your engagement a while back,” she said. “When’s the wedding?”

“Spring.” He looked out at the water. “Probably right here, or close by. I’d be happy to get married today, anywhere, any time, but Anna’s mom wants a real wedding for her daughter. That’s not too much to ask, I guess.”

He had to be getting cold, since he’d stopped running. Besides, talking about weddings made her itchy. “I need to head back and get ready for work. Enjoy your run. Tell Anna I said hello.”

“Sure thing.” Colt waved again and jogged on. Olive turned away and walked through the sand, back toward her shoes and home. Home for the moment, anyway. She might have to adjust her opinions about the record store owner/landlord. This morning he’d seemed perfectly normal.

She almost laughed at herself. What was normal?

Tuck knewColt Hart pretty well. It was a small town; they were both members of the Seawolf Beach Business Owners’ Association; they had mutual friends. For a short while they’d been neighbors, after Tuck had bought the Jasmine Street house and before Colt had decided to rent out the small blue house next door. Even then, their work hours had been so different they rarely saw one another. Colt didn’t get out much, so he wasn’t a regular at The Magnolia. Tuck didn’t own a record player, so he hadn’t been inside Hart’s Vinyl Depot for years. Last time he was here, he’d stopped in for coffee. That had been years ago, not long after he’d moved back to town.

The record store was busy for a Tuesday, as was much of downtown Seawolf Beach. It was nice that so many shopped locally, and that vacationers took advantage of the uniqueness of the town’s shops and restaurants. Come January all business would be slow. At least, that was usually the case. March would bring a change. With a warmup in the weather, the tourists came.

As he had last time, Tuck stopped by for the coffee before an afternoon of his own Christmas shopping. A high school kid, Benny, manned the coffee bar. It wasn’t yet four o’clock, so it was possible Benny had come straight to the depot after school, getting in a few extra work hours to earn money for the holidays. Since it was a cool 62 degrees outside, several people had the same idea. Coffee. Not for the first time, Tuck thanked his lucky stars that Uncle Houston hadn’t left him a business anywhere north of Mississippi. He wasn’t sure his thin blood could take it.

Tuck had no family, not since his uncle’s death. He could live anywhere. Sell The Magnolia, pack up, get out of town. He’d thought about it more than once, but this was home. He’d tried to deny that for a few years, but Seawolf Beach was in his blood, thin as it was.

Helen Sommers manned the counter, greeting and taking care of a steady stream of customers thrilled with their finds. Music from another era played over the speakers. The song currently playing was too old for Tuck to identify, but it was nice enough if you liked that kind of thing.