Page 3 of Lost Love Cove
The house behind him creaked, tired boards settling like an old man’s sigh. It was exactly why he had bought it: the boneswere strong but worn down. He liked the idea of rebuilding something. He liked it even more because it gave him something to do with his hands.
Yesterday’s interruption lingered in his mind more than he cared to admit. The neighbor. Lori’s friend, the one she had mentioned, would be staying in her house for the summer. He couldn’t recall if Lori had ever told him her name, and if she had, it hadn’t stuck in his mind. He’d been in the middle of tearing down the porch boards when Lori stopped by to say her goodbyes.
What he did remember was the way the woman had crossed the yard, shoulders squared, eyes flashing, her voice carrying that clipped authority of someone accustomed to being listened to. Most folks in Sunset Keys greeted you with a wave or a smile, but she was different. Even without knowing she was new in town, he would have recognized it in an instant, in the way she came at him like someone used to giving orders. Yet beneath all that steel, he’d caught a fleeting glimpse of weariness in her eyes, a shadow that softened the hard lines she tried to hold. It was the kind of look that made him wonder what she had been through before arriving here.
He set his mug aside, rolled his sleeves up, and turned to the sawhorses. Wood and nails were better company than thoughts. He measured a cut and set the saw to the line. The rasping whine of the blade split the still morning air. A gull startled off the roof, wings flashing white as it caught the wind.
He half expected her to storm across the yard again, ready to chew him out for the noise. Glancing toward Lori’s house, he noted the car still parked in the drive, but the windows remained still, and the porch was empty. A strange twinge ofdisappointment caught him off guard, and he brushed it aside, setting his focus back on the work.
About half an hour later, the sound of voices drifted up from the cove. He straightened, setting the saw down, and turned to see the neighbor with a young girl at her side, about Cody’s age. They looked like they had come back from a walk along the beach, sand clinging to their shoes and laughter floating easily between them. The woman’s sharp eyes flicked his way, and they exchanged a reluctant nod. The young girl, though, lifted her hand in a cheerful wave, her smile bright and unguarded, making him smile and wave back.
By the time the sun cleared the tops of the palms, the quiet of the cove had given way to motion as the world woke. A noise from inside his house made him pause and turn to see his ten-year-old grandson, Cody, burst through the front door with Muttley, his huge four-year-old shaggy Great Dane/Old English Sheepdog cross.
“Hey, Grampy.” Cody rushed toward him, skidding to a stop with Muttley following suit.
“Morning, kid,” Matt greeted him with a warm smile. “Where are the two of you off to?”
“We thought we’d come help you,” Cody offered.
“Mmm,” Matt contemplated his offer. “You know what you can do for me?”
“What?” Cody said eagerly.
“Ask your mother to take a new neighbor one of her freshly baked cherry pies as a welcome to the neighborhood,” Matt told him.
“Someone’s moved into Lori and Luna’s house?” Cody looked at him in surprise.
“Yup,” Matt nodded. “And one of our new neighbors is about your age.”
“Really?” Cody’s eyes rounded in excitement. “Do you think they’d want to play with me?”
“Why not,” Matt said with a shrug. “I saw the young girl with… I think it was her grandmother?” His brow crinkled as he guessed that his new neighbor would be around Lori’s age, as Lori had called the woman coming to stay her best friend.
“I’ll go speak to Mom,” Cody said, already spinning on his heels and heading back to the house.
Matt gave a soft laugh as he watched Muttley lumber after Cody. His smile faded as the memories pressed in — three years since Tom Decker, his late son-in-law, had been killed in the line of duty. The image that haunted him most was Alisha clutching Tom’s folded flag at the funeral, Cody staring at his small dress shoes, not yet able to understand why officers were saluting an empty space where his father should have been.
Matt gave himself a mental shake to clear the memory. It had been eleven months after Sherri’s passing, and losing Tom so soon after had nearly undone them all. Alisha had never left his house except to close hers and Tom’s, and since then she’d poured her love into raising Cody and burying herself in her work at Harvard.
Needing a change of scenery, Matt had found this house in Sunset Keys, a place he and Sherri had visited before Alisha was born. They had loved it so much they returned year after year, and Sherri especially had loved the cove.
Lost Love Cove was meant to be a mystical place where the broken-hearted came to heal. The legend told of a young woman who lost her one true love at sea and waited each evening by the shore until one night the tide brought her a heart-shaped shell. She took it as a sign, a promise that love would always return here. Word spread, and the cove earned its name. Some said grief had woven itself into the tide, that the waves carried whispers of the lost. Generations later, people still left flowers, notes, and seashells, asking the ocean to take their sorrow and give back peace.
Matt smiled faintly, remembering how Sherri had loved that story. She had wanted them to retire here one day. Looking at the house now, he thought she would have approved.
“Hello,” a young voice called from over the wall. “Are you remodeling your house?”
Matt turned to see the young girl he’d seen with his new neighbor earlier.
“Hi,” Matt greeted her. “Yes, it was run down when I bought it, so I’m giving it a much-needed makeover.”
“We used to think it was haunted,” Maggie said with a laugh. “When my mom and I came to visit Lori, we’d make up ghost stories about the house.”
Matt chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here a couple of months now, and I haven’t met a ghost yet.”
“That’s because there are no such things as ghosts,” she told him, then hesitated. “At least that’s what my gran says. I think if there are ghosts, they’re just people we’ve lost, making sure we’re alright.”
“That’s a good explanation,” Matt agreed, before Cody and Muttley once again burst through the door. “Hey, Cody,” he called. “Come say hello to our new neighbor.”
