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He’d named it Seahorse after he purchased the five-hundred-acre piece of property just south of the Central Coast village of Cambria. It was one of a few such parcels still remaining in the State of California. Shortly after the closing, he’d commissioned an architect to design and build the house I stayed in now. The only thing remaining from the previous owners was a barn. That, my brother had renovated, then brought in the horses he’d otherwise kept at my parents’ estate in Napa.
There was nothing like being on horseback with the salty air in your face, no one else crowding the beach, and the sound of waves crashing as you rode beside them. The freedom I felt each time I mounted a horse was like nothing I’d experienced anywhere but here.
I checked the time, wishing it was later than eight, so I could ring Sam and invite her to breakfast as an apology for showing up last night. If I called now, though, she’d be angrier than she had been when she let me in an hour after midnight.
Even when I pulled my car out of the garage here at Seahorse and drove the mile to her place, I knew I should turn around and let her rest. Especially since it was one of the two nights she had off each week. I couldn’t, though. If I had, I would’ve gone mad with my inability to sleep.
Instead, the din of the mindless movie I wasn’t watching, coupled with her soft snores and her purring cat, lulled me into the deepest sleep I’d had since I learned my mother died. In fact, the only time I’d slept more than a couple of hours was when I was at Sam’s place.
One of these days, I knew she’d turn me away. Maybe I’d show up and she’d tell me she already had an overnight guest. Not that she’d had one in the last year; of that, I was certain. It was only after she gave in to my unwillingness to allow her a moment’s peace that she confessed it had been longer than that since she last had a boyfriend.
Her saying it was none of my business hadn’t deterred me. Whenever she said it, I reminded her I was her best friend; therefore, the only person permitted to ask such questions. Each time, she’d point out I wasn’t her best friend; Addy was. “But you’re mine,” I’d utter in response.
Her other point, namely why I would want to stay in her one-room flat when I could be here at Seahorse or in the guesthouse I lived in at my parents’ Napa estate, usually ended in an argument. The worst was the time I’d offered to get her a bigger place. I’d gone so far as to say I’d buy her a house. It took ten days of groveling after that error in judgment just to get Sam to speak to me again.
It was different since my mum died. And yes, I was an arsehole for taking advantage of the fact I knew she’d not turn me away.
I lay in the sand, looking up at the sunless, cloud-filled sky. “I miss you, Mum,” I said out loud, my eyes filling with tears like they always did when I thought about her, talked about her, talked to her. She’d been my rock, the voice I heard in my head, the one person—other than my father—I knew would always love me, no matter the shenanigans I pulled.
I reached for my mobile when it vibrated. I’d blocked everyone from calling me, with the exception of my father and Sam, so I knew it had to be my dad since she would never be up this early unless hell froze over. Which, apparently, it had.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I answered.
“Ugh. Where are you?”
“Sitting on the sand. Where are you?”
“Ha, ha. Still in bed, but no longer asleep.”
“Why aren’t you?” I asked.
“Someone knocked on my door at seven this morning.”
At first, I thought she was going to say one. “It wasn’t me this time.”
“Yes, Beau, I’m aware of that.”
“So, um, who was it?”
“A courier. That’s why I’m calling. I don’t know what to make of the package he delivered.”
“What is it?”
“Something legal.”
“Would you like me to take a look at it?”
I could almost hear her eyes rolling.
“Sorry, obviously. So, I was waiting until a bit later to invite you to breakfast. Shall I pick you up?”
“I could meet you,” she offered.
I shuddered every time I thought about Sam driving the clunker she considered adequate transportation. “How much time do you need?”
“I just got out of the shower, so whenever you’re ready. Where do you want to meet?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” I ended the call before Sam could argue further, went inside, and took a quick shower myself.
