She turned back to Andrew. “What do you think? Would you be willing to be our first featured author?”
He tried to do his part to support indie bookstores but right now he had enough on his plate. “I don’t want to commit to anything at this point, while my life is so chaotic.”
“Fair enough. I’ll talk to you again when Stormhaven is renovated, shall I?”
“Sure.”
Andrew forced a polite smile, but inwardly he was already looking for an escape route. The last thing he wanted was to be further entangled with this bookstore or its owners. He had come to Oregon seeking solitude and a fresh start, not to be roped into local events or forced interactions. Yet as he glanced between Rosie and Emma, he realized with a sinking feeling that avoiding them entirely might prove impossible.
Rosie owned both the bookstore and the construction company working on Stormhaven. Her daughter seemed eager to involve him in their plans. Andrew found himself trapped in a web of small-town connections he hadn’t anticipated.
As he returned to help his kids make their final selections, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the peaceful life he had hoped to find here was already more complicated than he had bargained for.
He would need to find a way to maintain his distance without burning bridges—a delicate balance he wasn’t sure he was prepared to strike.
Chapter Five
Rosie
Even after nearly thirty years in Oregon, Rosie still sometimes found it hard to believe she actually lived here in this beautiful place by the ocean.
It seemed even more unbelievable that she was currently walking in this serene setting with her own beloved granddaughter.
Rosie sighed with contentment while a giggling Olive skipped ahead of her, sunlight glinting on her auburn curls and Dottie’s leash gripped tightly in her fingers.
Olive and Emma had been in Wood Briar for over a week and Rosie felt as if she had been holding her breath that entire time, bracing for disaster. She finally was beginning to relax and almost believe they might be able to make this work.
She still weighed every word she said to her daughter, afraid she might say the wrong thing and dredge up all the previous conflicts between them again. She sensed Emma was being as careful around her. So far, they seemed to be managing together in the same house better than Rosie had dreamed possible.
This was the payoff. Walking along her favorite beach with Olive on a sunny afternoon in early June while the ocean murmured beside them.
“Look, Grandma. A crab!” Olive exclaimed, her features lighting up with glee.
Rosie suspected there were thousands of them on the beach, but she wasn’t about to tell this precious child her discovery wasn’t particularly unique.
“Look at that. You found one. That is a mole crab.”
“It looks like a potato with little squiggly legs.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what it looks like.”
She didn’t want this moment to end. When her daughter had asked her if she might be available to watch Olive that afternoon while Emma had a staff meeting, Rosie had been quick to rearrange her schedule, even when her own plate had been full.
As usual, her week had been a hectic one, filled with meetings and jobsite visits. She had barely spent a moment with either of them and Rosie relished this chance to be still and simply listen to the sound of the gulls, the music of the surf and her granddaughter’s giggles.
Rosie would be spending all evening with Olive and tucking her into bed later, the most time she had spent with her granddaughter at a stretch since Emma and Olive moved in.
She hoped the fact that her daughter had asked for her help indicated Emma was beginning to settle in and feel more comfortable.
She suspected her daughter had big plans for making changes at the bookstore, though Emma hadn’t talked much about them to her. Rosie could only hope she would share her ideas when she was ready.
During the years Sylvia had run the bookstore, Rosie worked hard to step away and not micromanage all the day-to-day operations of the bookstore she loved. The whole situation felt different now, with Emma at the helm.
“Can we find more crabs?” Olive asked eagerly.
Rosie considered, shifting her gaze to the edge of the beach, where the rocks presented the perfect place for tide pooling, especially now, at low tide.
How much time had she, Gary and Emma spent at thisvery same beach, perusing the tide pools for anemones, starfish, crabs?