Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(54)
Author: Irene Hannon

 

“Glad you like it. All the other drinks are exceptional too. You’ll have to come again.”

 

Charley kept the conversation centered on general chitchat after that, and by the time they parted in front of The Perfect Blend fifteen minutes later, the tension in Jon’s shoulders had eased.

 

This unexpected social engagement hadn’t been too bad. None of the four Hope Harbor residents who’d seen his scars had overreacted.

 

On the other hand, they weren’t typical either. If Zach really did have a female barista with triple-pierced ears and spiky, rainbow-hued hair, as Kyle had mentioned once, a scar-faced man would be nothing more than a blip on his radar. And clerics were no doubt schooled to mask their shock. Otherwise, no one would seek their counsel. As for his host today, Charley had been Charley. Kind, empathetic, and always accepting.

 

Meaning the coffee shop excursion hadn’t been the best test of going public with his appearance.

 

It was, nevertheless, encouraging.

 

For if those four could so quickly get past his looks and proceed to more important matters, maybe others could too.

 

Whether a woman—Ashley in particular—could make the quantum leap from acceptance to attraction, however, remained to be seen.

 

But in a town with the name of Hope Harbor, perhaps anything was possible.

 

 

 

 

 

19

 

 

This was a disaster.

 

From her spot on the puddle-dotted terrace, Ashley stared over the Edgecliff grounds as dawn transitioned to day under a leaden sky.

 

The gazebo was undamaged, despite the high winds that must have raged last night, as was the open-sided white tent adjacent to it, where refreshments would be served later today at the open house. But a huge section of one of the large spruce trees had splintered off and crashed into the chairs that had been arranged in rows by the gazebo to simulate a wedding setup. Those that hadn’t been crushed or buried under needle-bedecked boughs were strewn about. And smaller branches littered the lawn Jon’s crew had manicured yesterday.

 

Dare she look in front of the house?

 

“Oh my.”

 

As Rose spoke behind her, Ashley’s throat tightened. After all the stresses of the past week, after all the work she’d put into the open house, this was too much.

 

“I knew rain was predicted last night, but I didn’t hear anything about high winds.” Somehow she choked out the words. “And how could a tree that was supposed to act as a windbreak break instead?”

 

“The wind can be capricious on the coast, and the storm was bad. Much worse than usual for July.” Rose touched her arm. “Is there any other damage?”

 

“I don’t know. This is as far as I got.”

 

“Let’s cut through the house and check the front.”

 

Rose walked over to the back door, unlocked it, and disarmed the security system before Ashley could get her feet in gear.

 

The other woman was already halfway to the foyer when Ashley entered, and she hurried to catch up, steeling herself as Rose twisted the knob and opened the front door.

 

It wasn’t good.

 

Two of the new hanging ferns had fallen, spewing potting soil across the pristine porch. Another large branch had blown into the circle drive, blocking it. Tree debris littered the lawn, freshly planted center garden, and new gravel parking lot.

 

Ashley grasped the edge of the door to steady herself as she surveyed the damage. “How could I have slept through all this?”

 

“You’ve been running around nonstop for weeks and working late into the night, if the light burning in the carriage house at all hours is any indication. Exhausted people eventually cave.”

 

“I wasn’t supposed to cave until after the open house.” Panic clawed at her windpipe, cutting off her air supply. “How am I supposed to clean all this up before the caterer gets here in five hours?” She tried to focus, to put together a mental to-do list, but her brain had become sludge.

 

“You may want to call the caterer first. I imagine they have more chairs.”

 

Ashley turned away from the scene of devastation, pulling out her cell as she lurched toward the kitchen. “More chairs are the least of my problem. The beautiful grounds are one of our biggest selling points, and they look like a tornado has—”

 

“Ashley.”

 

She halted and swiveled back. “What?”

 

“I believe your knight in shining armor may be arriving. Not on a white charger, but in a white truck.”

 

What?

 

She hurtled back to the door.

 

Jon’s Silverado was trundling down the drive, an open trailer attached.

 

“Why would he be here at this hour on a Saturday?”

 

“You’ll have to ask him.” Rose withdrew into the house. “I think I’ll brew a pot of coffee. I expect we’ll all need an energy boost to get us through the next few hours.”

 

The truck stopped on the far edge of the circle drive, and Ashley pushed through the door. As she clattered down the steps, Jon slid out of the driver’s seat and pulled a chain saw from the trailer. He was already striding toward the gazebo area when she called out to him.

 

He swung back as she trotted over.

 

“What are you doing here?” She stopped a few feet from him.

 

One of his eyebrows rose. “Good morning to you too.”

 

Heat bloomed on her cheeks. “Sorry. Good morning. Why are you here?”

 

“Have chain saw, will travel.” He tipped up the blade and wiggled it.

 

“But it’s Saturday. Most people sleep in. And how did you know about this?” She swept a hand over the carnage.

 

“I swung by an hour ago. I figured there’d be a few issues, and I had a feeling you’d be freaking out.”

 

God bless this man!

 

“That about nails it. But I wasn’t up as early as you. My panic is of more recent vintage. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep through the storm, like I did.”

 

“That’s not an option if you have a dog who hates bad weather and howls with the wind. She was very vocal last night.”

 

Meaning he likely hadn’t had much sleep.

 

“Listen, you must be tired. I can’t ask you to—”