Page 3 of Where Sea Meets Sky

The pictures of the town were darling. She clicked through picture after picture of charming residential streets, a quaint and bustling Main Street lined with old buildings, and beaches where people were talking and laughing. There was a restaurant that she saw come up a few times, The Lighthouse Grill, which looked friendly and inviting.

She was quickly enchanted with the obvious charm of Rosewood Beach. It was clearly a place of community and intentional living—so different from her rushed, isolated life in the city.

It’s totally different from here, she thought, staring at a picture of the sunset seen from a bakery called Seaside Sweets.And yet, something totally different seems to be exactly what I need.

She looked around her apartment. It was clean, elegant, and functional, but it had never felt like a home to her. She asked herself if she had any real reason to stay in Boston.

She knew in another moment that the answer was no. She took a deep breath and made the crazy decision to take a leap of faith and start a new life.

She stood up, suddenly feeling jittery with excitement. She began to pace around her apartment, thinking through the logistics of her new plan.

She had plenty of savings. Enough to last her almost a full year if she lived frugally. And she felt sure that she would figure out some other form of employment long before that. Besides, figuring out another form of employment was clearly somethingshe needed to do. Her mental and physical health were not being taken care of as long as she was working her current job. She needed a change.

She smiled, thinking of how difficult it had been for her to make a decision about how to present her case yesterday. She wasn’t having any difficulty in deciding to start her life afresh.

She put in an order for Chinese food, and then went over to her desk, which was placed by a window overlooking the city. She took out her planner and turned to the next day. “Buy groceries,” she wrote. Then she turned to that day and took a deep breath. On the empty lines she wrote, “Send in resignation.”

For a moment, she felt a surge of apprehension and she wondered if she was making the right decision. Then she shook her head. She was going to do it now, before she lost her nerve. She went back to her computer and hurriedly typed out a thoughtful, well-structured letter of resignation. She wanted to finish it before her dinner arrived, so that she could sit and watch a movie and eat it in peace.

Half an hour later, her letter was finished. She read it over one more time, feeling a strange sense of peace and calm. She took a deep breath and sent it.

“There,” she murmured. “Now I have to change my life.”

At that moment, her apartment buzzer went off, signaling her that her food had arrived. Grinning, she stood up and went to open the door.

CHAPTER TWO

Ryan McCormick drove along the coast toward Rosewood Beach with a slight smile on his face. He was blasting James Taylor as loudly as if it were rock music, and he had the windows of his truck down even though it was cold in the early spring weather. To his right, the ocean glittered in the sunlight, and he thought to himself that he couldn’t wait to get out on the water in a boat or a jet-ski.

Not that he’d had a particularly fun summer the year before—or the year before that. He’d been working hard, going from one construction job to the next. He’d kept telling himself it was temporary, and he was just trying to get ahead in his new role as project manager for the Hartford-based construction firm he worked for. But even after it was clear he was doing a fantastic job and could take a little more time off, he’d kept working almost all the time.

It didn’t help that his job often took him away from home. Occasionally, he needed to go to Hartford, but most of his office work could be done remotely. However, as a project manager, he was often traveling from state to state, occasionally for weeks at a time.

I wonder if I like that,he thought, frowning a little at the thought.I wonder if part of me is trying to stay away.

Although he loved his family, Ryan had mixed feelings about them. His father, Judd McCormick, had started a local brewery years ago, and it was his pride and joy. Well, mostly pride. Judd acted as though making a profit from his business was the only thing worth focusing on. Ryan was the only one of Judd’s three sons who hadn’t gone into the family business. He had wanted to forge his own path, and not get caught up in his father and brothers’ sometimes narrow-minded ways.

He shook his head, trying not to think negative thoughts about his father and brothers. He loved them, and they were his family. He’d come home to see them, hadn’t he? He had to be back in Colorado in another few days at the site he’d just spent the last two weeks at, but instead of climbing some rocks and exploring the mountains, he’d decided to come back home to spend some time with his family.

He turned down the music as he reached the outskirts of Rosewood Beach. It was around noon on Sunday, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone who was trying to have a peaceful afternoon in the quiet Connecticut town. He let out a large yawn as he turned his truck toward the McCormick Brewery, which was located on the edge of town near the highway. His flight that morning hadn’t been terribly early, but flying always made him sleepy. He was always glad to get back to his truck, which he paid to have kept in the airport parking lot while he was away.

He reached the brewery and parked out front. The sleek, modern building glinted faintly in the sunlight and he smiled when he saw it. He had many fond memories of being a little kid, running through the hallways when he wasn’t supposed to. It had been especially fun when the place was still under construction.

He stepped inside, and the first sound that met his ears was of two voices raised in argument. He sighed, recognizing the voices as belonging to his brothers, Seth and Brady.

He made his way into the bar area of the brewery, where there were several metal tables set along the large windows. Seth and Brady were sitting together at one of them, squabbling as they usually did. Their argument wasn’t particularly heated, although it was clear they were both passionate about their opinions. The two of them were usually finding some reason for starting an argument, almost as if squabbling with each other was their favorite sport.

Ryan stepped up to their table with a grin. “Now what on earth could you two have to fight about this early in the day? It’s barely noon.”

“Ryan!” Seth and Brady both leapt up and tackled Ryan in a group hug.

“We missed you, squirt,” Brady said, ruffling Ryan’s dark brown hair.

At six one and muscular, “squirt” was hardly an accurate nickname for Ryan. But Brady and Seth had been calling him that ever since they were all kids, and Ryan didn’t mind. “Squirt” had been one of the nicer nicknames bestowed upon him by his boisterous, rough-housing older brothers.

“Thanks, I missed you too.” Ryan grinned. “How are things at the brewery?”

Seth shrugged. “I’d say they’re good. Dad hadn’t been particularly happy, but our numbers haven’t gone down or anything like that. I think he’s kind of stressed out about this food menu he’s trying to keep up.”

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