The Beach House Read Online Free Page A

to get where I’m going.”
    “Yes, you do,” her mother replied with a teasing glint in her eye. “You always do.”
    Looking at the house as she climbed the porch steps, Cara saw further signs of the house’s age. It was worse than she’d first suspected. The back porch was sagging, the border shrubs were a jungle of overgrowth, a shutter was missing and in spots the paint had peeled clear to the wood. “The old place looks like it could use some work.”
    “This poor old house…It takes a lot of abuse from the weather. Always it’s nip and tuck, nip and tuck.”
    “It’s a lot for you to do alone. Doesn’t Palmer help you keep things up?”
    “Palmer? Well, he tries, but the main house keeps him pretty busy with its own list of chores. And then there’s the business. And his family.” Her brows knit and her lips tightened, a sign she was holding words back. “He has his own troubles. I get along well enough on my own. Oh, look at my primroses,” she exclaimed, pointing at a nearby clump. “Aren’t they beautiful this year?” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “Can you catch their lemony scent?”
    Cara couldn’t decide if her mother had adroitly changed the subject or was just easily distracted. But she could feel the miles she’d driven that day weigh as heavily as the suitcase hanging from her arm and the last thing she wanted to do was stand in the enveloping darkness and smell the flowers.
    “I’m bushed. I’d really love to drop this load and have something cold and wet and alcoholic, if you’ve got it.”
    “How’s a gin and tonic sound?”
    Cara almost purred.
    They passed through the screened porch, cluttered with old rattan furniture, a mildewed canvas beach bag loaded with miscellaneous beach supplies and assorted rusted garden tools. Lovie paused, resting her hand against the wall as she slipped her feet from her sand-crusted running shoes. Cara noticed with a start that there was a small, pale space on her mother’s ring finger where a band of gold and a large, Tiffany-cut diamond had rested for forty-two years.
    “Mama, where’s your wedding ring?”
    Flustered, her mother looked down at her hand, then began swatting the sand from her skirt. “Oh, that big ol’ thing? I took it off after your father died. I only wore it to please him. I never much liked wearing it. It got in the way and was such a bother here at the beach. I expect I’ll leave it to Cooper to give to his bride someday.”
    Cooper was Palmer’s young son, and true to form, her mother was doting on the only male to carry on the proud Rutledge name.
    “Scrape your feet, hear? I’ll never get used to the amount of sand that gets tracked into the house.”
    Cara obliged. “What were you doing on the beach so late?”
    “Why, we’ve already had two turtle nests!”
    Cara’s eyes glittered with both amusement and resignation. “I thought you looked for tracks in the morning.”
    “We do. I just wanted to check that everything was in order. You know me. I’m always a little excited when the season starts.” Her face scrunched in distress. “I didn’t move this nest and I’m not sure if I shouldn’t have. Ordinarily I would have. It’s a bit low on the tideline.” She tsked and shook her head. “The Department of Natural Resources is quite strict these days and doesn’t want the nests moved unless it’s urgent. Oh, I don’t know….” she fretted. “If the tide comes in high, the nest could be ruined. Maybe I should have moved it.”
    “Mama, you made your decision. It’s done. Let it lie.” In Cara’s job she made a thousand decisions a day and never understood how some people could waffle back and forth. But she knew it wasn’t just the indecision that annoyed her. It was the turtles. It was always the turtles. From May till October, every year for as far back as she could remember, her mother’s life had revolved around the loggerheads. And so, by default, had hers and Palmer’s.
    “I