Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The call came while Tessa was reading on the deck, the afternoon sun warm on her shoulders, and the sound of Brian's hammer a steady rhythm from the side of the cottage.
She glanced at the screen and felt her shoulders relax when she saw the name. Julia Baker. Her best friend from the hospital, one of the few people who'd understood when Tessa had said she needed to leave.
"Hey, stranger," Julia said when Tessa answered. "You still alive out there in the middle of nowhere?"
"Barely. The sea air might kill me with relaxation." Tessa smiled, settling deeper into the Adirondack chair. "How are things at the hospital?"
"Chaotic. Understaffed. The usual." Julia's voice carried the familiar edge of exhaustion that Tessa knew too well. "Dr. Leland's been asking about you. Wants to know if you've set a return date yet."
Tessa's stomach tightened. "I've been here less than a week."
"I know. I told him to back off, but you know how he is." A pause. "He's been having his assistant call you. She mentioned you weren't picking up."
The unknown Chicago calls. Tessa let out a breath. Not a threat. Just the hospital, unable to let go even when she'd explicitly asked for space.
"I've been screening my calls," she admitted. "I didn't recognize the number."
"Fair enough. I'll tell her to email instead." Julia's tone softened. "How are you really doing, Tess? And don't give me the polite version."
Tessa looked out at the water, watching the light dance across the surface. How was she doing? A week ago, she would have said exhausted, empty, running on fumes. Now...
"Better," she said, and meant it. "I'm staying in this little cottage on the water. There's a man here who makes me coffee in the morning and doesn't ask me to fix anything. I bought a necklace with a fern in it. I'm going to a concert next weekend."
"Wait, back up." Julia's voice sharpened with interest. "A man? You buried the lead, Callahan."
"It's not like that." Even as she said it, Tessa felt her cheeks warm. "He owns the cottage. There was a mix-up with the rental, and he let me stay. We're just... cohabitating."
"Cohabitating." Julia drew the word out, savoring it. "And what does this cohabitant look like?"
Tessa thought about Brian. The way he filled a doorway. The tattoos that disappeared under his sleeves. The pale blue eyes that saw more than she wanted them to.
"Tall," she said carefully. "Broad. He has these eyes that are like... I don't know. Ice in sunlight."
"Ice in sunlight," Julia repeated. "That's very poetic for someone who's 'just cohabitating.'"
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying." Julia laughed, warm and familiar. "You sound different. Lighter. Whatever's happening down there, keep doing it."
After they hung up, Tessa sat with the phone in her lap, thinking about what Julia had said.
You sound different. Lighter. Was that true?
She tested the idea like probing a sore tooth, waiting for the ache.
But there was only the warmth of the sun and the steady sound of Brian's hammer and the faint, unfamiliar feeling of being exactly where she was supposed to be.
The hammer stopped. A moment later, Brian appeared around the corner of the cottage, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. That was my friend Julia, from the hospital." Tessa tucked her phone into her pocket. "She solved the mystery of the unknown calls. It was Dr. Leland's assistant, trying to get me to set a return date."
Something flickered across his face. Relief, maybe. Or something else she couldn't quite read.
"So not a stalker," he said.
"Not a stalker. Just a hospital that doesn't know how to let go." She paused. "The footprints could still be nothing."
"Could be." But his jaw was still tight, his eyes still watchful. "Motion lights are installed. If anyone comes around tonight, we'll know."
She nodded, grateful for his vigilance even as part of her hoped it was unnecessary. "What time are we supposed to be at Hank and Bree's tonight?"
"Six. Bree said to come hungry. Sabrina's been cooking all day."
"Should I bring something?"
"Lila sent me home with a pie yesterday. Apple crumb. It's in the fridge."
Tessa smiled. "Of course she did."
Hank and Bree's farmhouse sat at the end of a long gravel drive, surrounded by old oaks draped in Spanish moss.
The house itself was white clapboard with a wraparound porch, the kind of place that looked like it had stories to tell.
Wind chimes hung from the eaves, filling the evening air with soft, random music.
Brian parked next to a motorcycle that gleamed in the fading light, all chrome and vintage curves. A 1942 Crocker, Tessa remembered. Hank's family heirloom.
"Ready?" Brian asked, pie balanced in one hand.
"As I'll ever be."
The door opened before they reached the porch steps, and a woman stepped out with a smile that could light up a room. She was petite, with dark blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and paint smudges on her fingers that she didn't seem to notice or care about.
"You must be Tessa." She came down the steps and pulled Tessa into a hug before Tessa could react. "I'm Bree. I've heard so much about you."
"From who?" Tessa asked, slightly breathless from the unexpected embrace.
"Everyone." Bree stepped back, her eyes dancing. "This is Copper Moon. Word travels." She turned to Brian and took the pie from his hands. "Lila's apple crumb. You're forgiven for being five minutes late."
"We're not late," Brian said.
"You're not early, which is basically late." Bree winked at Tessa. "Come on in. Sabrina's shrimp and grits are almost ready, and Colby's been threatening to eat them straight from the pot."
The inside of the farmhouse was warm and cluttered in the best possible way.
Art covered every wall, some of it clearly Bree's work, bold colors and sweeping brushstrokes that made Tessa want to stop and stare.
Comfortable furniture was arranged for conversation, and the smell of something incredible drifted from the kitchen.
Hank emerged from a doorway, a beer in each hand. He passed one to Brian and nodded at Tessa. "Good to see you again. Wine? Beer? Sabrina made some kind of fancy cocktail if you're feeling adventurous."
"Wine would be wonderful."
"Coming right up."
Bree led her into the kitchen, where chaos reigned in the most delicious way.
A woman with dark hair and a determined expression stood at the stove, stirring something that smelled like heaven.
Colby sat at the kitchen island, stealing bites of something from a cutting board while pretending he wasn't.
"Sabrina, this is Tessa," Bree announced. "Tessa, Sabrina. She's the reason Colby hasn't starved to death."
Sabrina looked up with a warm smile, wiping her hands on a towel before extending one to Tessa. "It's so nice to meet you. I heard Brian has a new roommate, and I had to see for myself the woman who got him to let someone into his space."
"It wasn't by choice," Tessa said. "More like an accident of paperwork."
"That's how the best things happen." Sabrina's eyes were knowing. "Accidents that turn into something more."
Colby snorted. "She's a romantic. Can't help herself."
"And you're a cynic who proposed to me on a cottage porch at sunset," Sabrina shot back. "So maybe keep your commentary to yourself."
"That was romantic. And practical. Those cottages make us money."
Tessa laughed, surprised by how easy it was. These people barely knew her, but they'd opened their home and their circle like she belonged there. Like she'd always been part of it.
Hank appeared with her wine, and she took it gratefully, letting the conversation flow around her. Brian drifted into the kitchen doorway, beer in hand, watching the scene with an expression she couldn't quite read. When his eyes met hers, something passed between them. A check-in. You okay?
She nodded slightly. I'm okay.
He smiled, just a little, and the warmth that spread through her had nothing to do with the wine.
Dinner was everything Brian had promised and more. Sabrina's shrimp and grits were creamy and rich, with just enough spice to make Tessa's eyes water. Fresh bread from Lila's, a salad with vegetables from someone's garden, and conversation that never lagged.
They ate at a long farmhouse table on the back porch, the evening air soft and warm, citronella candles flickering against the encroaching dusk. Fireflies blinked in the yard beyond, and somewhere in the distance, a mockingbird ran through its repertoire.
"So," Bree said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, "Brian says you're a trauma surgeon. That must be intense."
"It is." Tessa set down her fork. "Was. I'm on leave right now, trying to figure out what comes next."
"I get that." Bree's voice was gentle. "I used to work in advertising in New York. Seventy-hour weeks, no time for anything that mattered. When I came here, it was supposed to be temporary. A month to clear my head." She glanced at Hank, her expression softening. "That was two years ago."
"Copper Moon has a way of keeping people," Sabrina added. "I've been here or near here my entire life. But I run Norman House Cottages, and before that, my grandparents' bed and breakfast. I've met so many people who have stayed and have the same story." She nudged Colby with her elbow.
"It's the water," Hank said. "Something about the way the light hits it. Gets under your skin."
Tessa thought about the copper glow at sunset, the way it painted everything in warmth and possibility. "I can see that."
"What made you choose Copper Moon?" Bree asked. "Of all the places you could have gone."
Tessa hesitated. The truth was complicated: a desperate Google search for "quiet beach towns," a rental listing with photos that made her chest ache with longing, a leap of faith that had landed her in a stranger's cottage.