Read Online Beside a Dreamswept Sea by Vicki Hinze - Free Book Online
Authors: Vicki Hinze
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to admit, but until she’d seen Bryce catch that silly frog, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed. That too felt good. She toed her cosmetic case away from the blue bed comforter near the floor, noting a new scratch near the handle. These days, feeling good was nothing short of a miracle for her. And miracles she fully intended to appreciate.
She looked over to the dresser at the French phone. Maybe here she could find courage and, if Seascape had yet another spare miracle within its walls, those pieces of herself Gregory had slowly stolen from her.
“Here’s your purse, Cally.” The muddy Jeremy passed her handbag.
It was a little worse for the wear, dirt-streaked on the backside. “Thanks.” Caline smiled. Where the endearing-sounding Cally had come from, she didn’t know. But she liked it, too. Grandma Freemont used to call her Cally. She’d died too long ago for Caline to remember that firsthand, but finding the reminder of someone who had loved her unconditionally pleasant, Caline Tate decided that here at Seascape she’d do her best to become Cally again. To find Cally’s dreams.
A flood of warmth flowed through her. Nice. Very nice, but odd. The room was a little on the chilly side. “Thanks for helping me, Jeremy.”
“You’re welcome.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked the toe of his sneaker against the rug. His shoelace dragged on the floor.
Suzie, doelike with her large brown eyes, just stared at Cally, to the point that she was half tempted to check the mirror, as much as she hated mirrors, to see if something spotted her face. She studied Suzie’s eyes. No, she wasn’t staring at Cally’s face, but at her carnation. Wasn’t she?
To be certain, Cally took off her hat and unpinned the flower. “Would you like to have this, Suzie?”
“No! Please don’t take it off. Please.”
Why was the child so upset? What had Cally done wrong? “Okay, I won’t,” she hurriedly added. She couldn’t keep her hat on forever, but this seemed important to Suzie and, having wanted a child of her own for so long, Cally wanted to see the girl’s eyes shining with happiness again, as they had been downstairs when she’d been dancing with the postman. Not as they were now, clouded with worry. “Where should I put the flower, do you think?”
“On your shirt.” Suzie pointed to Cally’s lapel.
“Blouse, sweetheart.” Cally dumped her purse on the floor beside the bed, and caught a whiff of her narcissus-scented perfume and Jeremy’s little-boy, earthy scent. It was a pleasing blend. “Guys wear shirts, girls wear blouses.”
Suzie nodded. “Blouse, then.”
Caline glanced at the bed. The blue coverlet looked plush and comfortable. The whole house reeked of comfort. She was going to like it here. And she had the eeriest feeling that something important, something special, would happen to her in this house.
Probably stemmed from all that nonsense Lucy Baker had babbled about the legend of Collin and Cecelia Freeport’s love being so strong it had defied death and still lingered within Seascape’s walls. According to Lucy, Cecelia had been a healer, and Cally admitted that she did feel different here. But how could the love of a couple who’d died shower those here now with the blessings of love and peace as Lucy had claimed? Maybe she was just a romantic at heart. It couldn’t happen, of course. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if even a part of that were true?
Jeremy shrugged. “Put the flower in your pocket, Cally.”
She grinned. “I think we’d be safer with Suzie’s suggestion this time, Jeremy.” The flower in one hand, the pin in the other, Cally frowned down at her blouse. “I always stick myself doing this.”
Bryce hobbled into the room, then deposited her case on the floor near the closet door. “Let me help.”
Cally’s heart took a little dip. He’d changed into a fresh white shirt, navy slacks, and a different but still
She looked over to the dresser at the French phone. Maybe here she could find courage and, if Seascape had yet another spare miracle within its walls, those pieces of herself Gregory had slowly stolen from her.
“Here’s your purse, Cally.” The muddy Jeremy passed her handbag.
It was a little worse for the wear, dirt-streaked on the backside. “Thanks.” Caline smiled. Where the endearing-sounding Cally had come from, she didn’t know. But she liked it, too. Grandma Freemont used to call her Cally. She’d died too long ago for Caline to remember that firsthand, but finding the reminder of someone who had loved her unconditionally pleasant, Caline Tate decided that here at Seascape she’d do her best to become Cally again. To find Cally’s dreams.
A flood of warmth flowed through her. Nice. Very nice, but odd. The room was a little on the chilly side. “Thanks for helping me, Jeremy.”
“You’re welcome.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked the toe of his sneaker against the rug. His shoelace dragged on the floor.
Suzie, doelike with her large brown eyes, just stared at Cally, to the point that she was half tempted to check the mirror, as much as she hated mirrors, to see if something spotted her face. She studied Suzie’s eyes. No, she wasn’t staring at Cally’s face, but at her carnation. Wasn’t she?
To be certain, Cally took off her hat and unpinned the flower. “Would you like to have this, Suzie?”
“No! Please don’t take it off. Please.”
Why was the child so upset? What had Cally done wrong? “Okay, I won’t,” she hurriedly added. She couldn’t keep her hat on forever, but this seemed important to Suzie and, having wanted a child of her own for so long, Cally wanted to see the girl’s eyes shining with happiness again, as they had been downstairs when she’d been dancing with the postman. Not as they were now, clouded with worry. “Where should I put the flower, do you think?”
“On your shirt.” Suzie pointed to Cally’s lapel.
“Blouse, sweetheart.” Cally dumped her purse on the floor beside the bed, and caught a whiff of her narcissus-scented perfume and Jeremy’s little-boy, earthy scent. It was a pleasing blend. “Guys wear shirts, girls wear blouses.”
Suzie nodded. “Blouse, then.”
Caline glanced at the bed. The blue coverlet looked plush and comfortable. The whole house reeked of comfort. She was going to like it here. And she had the eeriest feeling that something important, something special, would happen to her in this house.
Probably stemmed from all that nonsense Lucy Baker had babbled about the legend of Collin and Cecelia Freeport’s love being so strong it had defied death and still lingered within Seascape’s walls. According to Lucy, Cecelia had been a healer, and Cally admitted that she did feel different here. But how could the love of a couple who’d died shower those here now with the blessings of love and peace as Lucy had claimed? Maybe she was just a romantic at heart. It couldn’t happen, of course. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if even a part of that were true?
Jeremy shrugged. “Put the flower in your pocket, Cally.”
She grinned. “I think we’d be safer with Suzie’s suggestion this time, Jeremy.” The flower in one hand, the pin in the other, Cally frowned down at her blouse. “I always stick myself doing this.”
Bryce hobbled into the room, then deposited her case on the floor near the closet door. “Let me help.”
Cally’s heart took a little dip. He’d changed into a fresh white shirt, navy slacks, and a different but still
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