AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Exactly."
I wait for Carlinya to expand on her statement, but she doesn't. "I don't understand."
She shrugs. "It's a small town. Folks support their own. And the mayor's son owns the shop next to yours. The Bait Bucket."
"I assume that's some sort of fishing shop?"
"Yep."
I shake my head in confusion. "But why is that a problem? My business won't compete with his."
Carlinya dissolves into a fit of laughter. "No, I wouldn't think so," she wheezes. Wiping tears from her eyes, she apologizes. "I haven't laughed that hard in ages. Just the thought of those smelly, old fishermen in a women's clothing store…"
"But if that's not the issue, what is?"
She takes a big drink of her tea. "He had plans for Hildy's Hut. Wanted it for his own business."
"I see."
I do…and the picture isn’t pretty.
I'm moving to a town full of people who don't want me there—and I’ll be trapped with them at high tide.Fabulous.
Chapter 5
Tuck
AsIclimbthewooden ramp over the dunes, my tackle bag bounces on my hip. In one hand, I carry a fishing pole. In the other, a thermos of coffee.
When I reach the top of the dune, the sun is rising out of the Atlantic, an orange globe of light floating on the water. It's surreal.
Not for the first time, I wish I was a morning person. Alas, I am not.But there’s no denying the beauty of that sunrise.
Stopping at the bottom of the dune to kick off my shoes, I take another sip of coffee before sinking my toes into the cool sand. At the water's edge, Bishop casts a line. Hardly a day goes by that my friend doesn't start his day by fishing at dawn.
He has four fishing pole holders planted in the sand at intervals, with two lines already in the water. He walks back to me with a third pole in his hands and drops it into the third holder.Make that three lines in the water.
"Where's the fourth pole?" I ask.
He grins. "You're holding it."
"You put that one out for me?"
"Always do, on the off chance you'll show up. You do, once a decade or so."
I look at him skeptically. "Once a decade or so? Doesn't seem worth the trouble of hauling it to the beach every day."
He chuckles. "You got me. It's notonlyfor you. Anyone who shows up is welcome to use it. Jared uses it a couple times a month. And once in a blue moon, your sister does."
I groan. All my loved ones are morning people, even my seventeen-year-old nephew, Jared. "What about my mother? Does she use it too?"
He ignores me. Everyone knows the mayor doesn't fish.
"Did you happen to bring me a chair, too?"
He gestures toward his cart. "In there."
I pull out a chair and set it up beside his. Then I walk to the water’s edge to cast my line. The cool water licks at my calves as I whip the rod back for the cast. It arcs high into the air before landing exactly where I intended.
