Tidewater Summer: Driftwood Bay, #2

By Teri Blake

USA Today Bestselling author Teri Blake brings you a sweet story of healing from separation.

Karla Maples searches for a solid rock when her world is turned upside down.

Her husband of fifteen years walked out the door. Worse, he's living with a woman who looks just like her and is much younger. Her children are acting up and her bank account has hit rock bottom. Karla needs to think of a way to support her family, but what skills does a homemaker have?

When Sawyer, a rep from a building corporation, stops by to buy her house she puts him to work helping her instead. If he can buy her house and turn it into a bed and breakfast, why can't she?

Her husband is furious that the attempt to buy the house out from under her fell through, but he's still manipulating the kids. Sawyer looks at the situation from the outside and can see all the damage, but what can he do to help it?

As Karla is about to give up, her sisters arrive to help, but they have secrets of their own. With everyone in upheaval, none of them are willing to share their burdens with each other. Until help from a most unexpected place turns the tables for Karla, but leaves one of her sisters with deep hurt.

In this quaint town, where family comes first, neighbors look out for each other, and old wounds run deep, four sisters try to forge a new business and figure out who they are as a group again. But will time run out before the eviction notice comes?

Can Karla find her voice?

You'll adore this sister saga, because their struggle rings true for so many. You just might find your own strength as they look for their own.

Get it now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inked in Faith Publications
• Release date: May 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393677208

Book preview

Chapter One

After a month of ignoring the existence of her kitchen, Karla Maples was only now feeling at home there again. Empty pots that had once held ingredients sat scattered around her. A trickle of perspiration dripped down her forehead as she mixed muffin batter to the perfect state. Just blended, not broken, so very opposite from her own life.

She wiped her brow with her sleeve as her daughter Maisy stopped short on her way out the front door.

Maisy sighed heavily and gave Karla a pinched glare. Mom, you’re baking again… She rolled her eyes. Keeping busy won’t bring him back, you know.

As sage as a fourteen-going-on-twenty-year-old could sound, Karla had to correct her. Rob had moved out a month before, telling her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t returning. She was now getting to the place where she didn’t want him to, even if he came to his senses.

Somewhere along the line, he’d gotten the impression he was her pet. Not the case, but she couldn’t convince him of the truth now. The only thing keeping them talking were the two teens who shared their DNA, though lately her daughter seemed to wish otherwise.

I’m testing a new muffin recipe. She opened the oven and slid the pan in, which also helped her avoid another eye roll she could feel tingling on the back of her neck like a bee sting.

Why? We don’t even like muffins. Maisy popped in one earbud, her new warning that she was about to tune out her mother with whatever noise she could find.

Because of the bed-and—

Don’t say it. Don’t, Maisy interrupted. I don’t want to hear the words ‘bed’ and ‘breakfast’ in the same sentence ever again. Maybe Dad was right. Maisy veered off course and stomped toward her room. You never think of anyone but yourself, she tossed the words over her shoulder and slammed the door.

Between the new earbuds, the new phone, the new apps on that phone, and the back talk, Maisy had received and learned a lot when she stayed with her father every few days. Her younger brother, Davin, had the same new phone, games, and other things, but he seemed hesitant to choose a side in this battle.

Karla cleaned up the mess around her when the doorbell rang. Karla checked her clock. Only three minutes until her muffins would need to come out. Whoever was at the door couldn’t keep her any longer or she might accost them with a few choice words. No one used the bell anyway except for the vacuum cleaner salesman and the representatives of various religions who came to call.

The bell rang again just as she reached the door. One second. She tried to meter her response to sound less agitated than she was. No one important came visiting in the middle of the day in early summer. That they would ring twice like they were important made her want to swing open the door like a queen in her castle and tell them to be gone. She had far too much work to do to get her bed-and-breakfast ready to waste time on needless chatting.

Another bead of sweat rolled down her back and she hoped she didn’t look as grubby as she felt. Rob had left her with all the bills, making air conditioning a luxury. The windows were open to make it tolerable in the house, not only giving a pleasant breeze off the ocean, but a delightful view of the man at the front door.

He wore fitted slacks in the way that the twenty-somethings did, but his slightly peppered dark hair made him look at least ten years older. A slight shadow at his jaw accentuated handsome lips. He filled out his fitted long-sleeved tee well.

As soon as she opened the door, he hit her with a smile that pegged him as a vacuum cleaner salesman. Mrs. Maples, I’m glad to have found you at home. He held out his hand. Sawyer Donovan, Donovan Land Management.

No sooner had she extended her hand, she pulled it back. Land management? Not … vacuums? What in the world would he want with her?

His handsome face faltered for a moment as his hand remained suspended in air, waiting for her to finish the handshake. Yes, didn’t my associate call and tell you I would stop by? Rob said he would.

Call…? Rob? It couldn’t be her Rob. He wouldn’t be working with a land management company. He’d call a realtor. Had she received any call about the house? Not that she’d heard. Her phone had been incredibly quiet since her neighbors and only friends, Quin and Paxton, had left on a late honeymoon last week. He was a hospice nurse and couldn’t get time off immediately following their wedding.

I don’t understand. She resisted the urge to look at her watch.

Rob demanded they sell the oceanside home, but he’d made no specific date she needed to decide by. The house was worth a fortune to him, but she’d been the one who’d wanted it. She was the one with childhood memories in that same house, from vacations she’d taken with her family. It had been a bed-and-breakfast then, too.

He opened his mouth and reached for a legal-sized portfolio under his arm.

It’s not for sale. She reached for the door.

Karla…! I mean, Mrs. Maples. Can we talk about this? I’ve come up with an offer I don’t think you can refuse. He tried to smile again, but it was no more than a subtle shift of his lips.

Her glare had to be working. She saw the desperation on his face.

Watch me. She shoved the door as he slipped his foot to block it.

Was he here to bust into her house? She thought of any item she could use to protect herself, and nothing but her cast iron skillet came to mind. What are you doing? I think you should just leave. My answer is no. I have plans for this house. It’s going to be a bed-and-breakfast. There isn’t anything you can say to convince me otherwise. Even if her daughter didn’t want to hear about her plans anymore.

What harm is there in looking at my proposal? I’ve come up with an idea that should leave you a very wealthy woman. You could buy another house, somewhere off the crowded beach…

The buzzer on her oven went off. I need to go. I don’t have time to talk to you now.

I could come in. He gestured to the door.

Had Rob paid this man to be so persistent, or did he just smell blood in the water?

I don’t want to look at your proposal. I don’t just let strangers in my house.

He grinned. You might have trouble making this into a rental if you won’t let strangers in.

At least he had a better comeback than her teen. Fine. Show me your proposal, but it won’t do you any good. I’m not selling. She turned, then rushed to the kitchen, but the scent of burning pomegranate reached her first and she groaned. She’d misjudged her guess on how long they’d take to bake. They had been so expensive and getting the filling just so had taken an hour.

She yanked the oven open as a plume of smoke caught her full in the face. She reached for the hot pad on the counter without taking her eyes off the damage. The muffins were dark brown and flat, burned, and ugly. Not again… Food had always been her peace. Cooking helped her escape her life and provided for her family. What in the world was she doing wrong?

Tears scorched the sides of her eyes and she swallowed them back as she yanked the pan from the oven. The edge of the pan bit into her palm, sending a shooting pain through her hand. Karla swallowed a yelp as Sawyer grabbed a kitchen towel and took the pan from her.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you. He set the pan on the cooling rack she’d set up beforehand.

It’s not you. It’s just … Everything. Nothing had been enough to make her cry since Rob left. She had to be the strong one. Nothing went right, and she dealt with all that the world threw at her. Until her muffins burned. Rob had been her identity. She was a wife and mother, baker, and homemaker. Now she was failing at everything as she tried to add owner of a bed-and-breakfast to the mix.

Can I see the burn? Sawyer held out his hand without grabbing at her.

She instinctively clutched her burned hand to her chest. Sawyer was a stranger. He wasn’t even a nurse like her neighbor Paxton. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Do you always turn away help? Gentle dark brown eyes searched hers.

She’d always had help before. Rob had cared once, long ago. He’d bandaged her cuts and kissed her until they didn’t hurt anymore. Until he hadn’t. Because some other woman had told him Karla didn’t appreciate him. Because some other woman offered her hand to kiss and bandage. He’d needed that and she’d shunned it so she could bandage her children’s wounds and be strong.

Does it hurt that bad? He guided her to the sink and turned on the cold water, testing it himself but leaving it up to her to put her hand under the stream.

Yes, she mumbled as she thrust her hand into the water. Why couldn’t this guy just leave? She needed time. Time to perfect her recipes. Time to get the right permits. Time to fix all the rooms. Time to move to Rosewood House so she could open the Tidewater Inn Bed and Breakfast. Time to forget Rob and all the reasons she used to love him.

Better? He was a man of few words, so far. At least she could appreciate that about him.

When she nodded, he turned off the water and blotted her hand dry with the kitchen towel she’d left on the counter. The deep pink mark across her palm throbbed with even the lightest touch.

Thanks. There was nothing else to say. She wouldn’t let Sawyer think he could simply waltz into her house and make her go away with the wave of an offer. She was stronger than that.

If it blisters, you should bandage it. Try to keep the blister whole for as long as you can. If it breaks, that’s how infection gets in. I burned my hand on a woodstove last winter. That’s what they told me. He stepped away from her as he spoke, giving her space.

He sounded far too much like Rob, always telling her what she must do and why, even if Rob didn’t seem to remember that he had told her all those things anymore. She’d lacked that push from Rob the last few months. Her own ideas had always been there, but when he told her the same plan, as if it were his own, she’d taken that as proof the idea was a good one. Now she had to rely on herself.

Sawyer slid out a chair just a few inches for her, more as a welcome to sit than a show of long-gone manners. He seated himself in Rob’s chair and waited for her. She reminded herself that he wouldn’t know that particular seat was Rob’s.

She didn’t move, waiting for the awkward feeling to pass. He would only be there for a few minutes anyway, then he would leave her to get back to what was important. Since he’d helped with her hand, she’d give him one minute to say what he came to. Then she would escort him to the door.

Mrs. Maples, can I show my offer to you? he said as he patted the large folder sitting on the table.

Listening was optional. No, she had to listen to competently tell him she wasn’t interested. With a heaviness she couldn’t understand, she sat. Fine, show me.

He smiled, but it didn’t last as he opened the thick packet and turned it to face her. We are prepared to offer you a third over market value for your property.

I’m sure Rob would love that. Was that bitterness in her voice? Every instinct in her told her to hold on to the house, but the offer was good.

So Rob did call? he asked, not meeting her eyes.

Not your Rob. My husband … Soon to be ex-husband. Her mind made a mental check mark at the first time she’d been able to say the words aloud. She didn’t even crumple to the floor as she’d expected.

His brow furrowed slightly, then he focused on his papers. I’m sorry. Sawyer shuffled the stack in his hand but didn’t move the offer lying between them.

It’s… What could she say? That it was normal? It was, but that didn’t make it any easier. More than half her acquaintances had gone through a divorce or separation, but each of their situations seemed so different from hers and she’d already grown tired of the, when I was in your shoes talks.

Well, I can’t imagine you’ll want to strap yourself to a house full of memories. Sawyer tugged a pen from his folder and clicked it loudly.

The bad things were minor compared to the good. You’d imagine wrong. This house is full of memories of my children. Full of memories of my childhood. I’m sorry. Nothing you can offer me would be enough. She slid the paper back toward him.

But—

But nothing. I think you’ve come to the end of your welcome, Mr. Donovan. She hated rudeness. All her life, she’d gone out of her way to treat people with respect. Sawyer’s persistence was a thorn in her already weak side.

His lips pinched as he gathered all the sheets neatly back into his leather folder. If things change, here’s my card. He set it in the middle of the table. If you’re going through a divorce soon, you may not have an option to sell. The judge could determine you must. If that becomes the case, call me first.

He waited, as if hoping for confirmation she would do just that, but she couldn’t even give him the courtesy. She would fight for two things: equal time with their children and her house. Rob had already taken both of their cars and some of their furniture. He’d taken most of the money from their joint bank account, leaving her with only her savings, though that was in the same account. She didn’t have one of her own yet. At least she’d thought far enough ahead to save something.

I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan—

This time he interrupted her. Sawyer.

Fine, I’m sorry, Sawyer. I don’t plan to allow myself to be in that position. He can’t make me sell until the one-year mark of our separation is up. We can’t file for divorce until then. Have a nice day.

He took the hint and headed for the door. As he opened it, he glanced back at her. Remember to keep it covered and clean if it blisters.

Right. She glanced at the red wound. How could she cover that and still bake, and paint, and scrub?

He jogged down her front steps to a sedan that was only a year or so old. The outside of his car was clean and shiny, fitting in perfectly within the neighborhood. Understated wealth and ease meshed well with the wide beach on the opposite side of the road and the row of expensive beach homes.

He fit this world. She was finding herself to be more of a square peg the longer Rob was gone. He’d worked hard and provided a good life for them. They’d paid off the house but maintaining it wouldn’t be cheap. The Tidewater had to open soon.

A small blue car slowed down as it drove past, and her neighbor, Quin, waved from the passenger window. A little of Karla’s worry washed away at the sight. At least now she’d have someone to talk to outside of her cranky teenaged daughter.

Karla waved in return and sucked in a harsh breath as the breeze blasted her fresh burn. When would life ever be normal again?

Chapter Two

Karla cradled her forehead in one hand as she clutched the phone to her ear with the other. You want to take the kids to Maui for two whole weeks? She bit her tongue to keep from saying what her heart desperately wanted to. No, he could not take her babies across the ocean, far away.

That’s a long time for them to be gone. And she wasn’t so sure about Rob’s new live-in girlfriend treating them well enough to be alone with them that long. A few days a week somewhere within driving distance was one thing. Getting on a flight and flying hours away was another.

You know I’ll take care of them. I’m a good dad. You get the kids more often than I do, so I want to take them on a trip. They probably think I don’t care anymore. I don’t want them to feel that way.

He was a good father. He’d been a good husband too. And when he treated her like he used to, like that moment, she wanted to give him whatever he asked for just so he might come back.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see it. That’s not true. You’ve been showering them with all sorts of things that I can’t give them and telling Maisy things you shouldn’t. Like little taunting things that Maisy took as truth. That was the Rob she had to refuse. Not the rare, nice Rob.

He let off a short burst of laughter. "Like you don’t talk candidly with her about me. Come on, Karla. I know better than that."

Karla. He’d started calling her that about four months before he left. Not sweety, not honey, not anything he’d always used before. He’d switched back to Karla, just like everyone else. She bit her lip and forced her foggy mind back into the conversation.

Apparently, he didn’t know better. She didn’t talk about Rob at all. That wasn’t fair to the kids. They hadn’t asked for this split and pitting them one parent against the other would only make them feel bad.

You’d be wrong. I’ve said nothing about you I wouldn’t say to your face, never asked them where you live, never asked about your girlfriend… I only know about her because she’s constantly making comments in the background when you call. Just like she was now. The nasally voice mocked everything Karla said.

I’d be wrong? His voice tensed. Just like always, you don’t even consider anyone else before you open your mouth. You probably don’t even think about what you say. He paused and she heard him moving around. A door closed. I’m taking them to Maui. You can fight it if you want, but there isn’t any structured settlement yet with the kids. You don’t have a leg to stand on to keep them from me. The kids are as much mine as yours.

And they couldn’t even begin the court process for another eleven months. Not until the kids finished with school next year. A year that would be full of custody issues if Rob kept taking them whenever he felt like it. How could she fight him without fighting him?

"I don’t want to argue, Rob. Can’t we come to some