Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
C onnor stood at the window of his cottage, watching the storm rage outside. It had come in abruptly, giving him barely enough time to close up his workshop and get back to the cottage.
Lightning crackled in the sky, illuminating the crashing waves on the beach. The lights flickered, and he held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t go out. His hopes were in vain because his cottage plunged into total darkness. He grumbled under his breath as he headed to the cabinet with the lantern and flashlights. Who knew how long the electricity might be out?
He glanced out the window and over to that Amanda woman’s cottage. It was in total darkness, although he knew she was home. He’d seen her hurry up the beach to her cottage right before the storm rolled in. She probably didn’t even have enough sense to have storm supplies. Flashlights, food that didn’t need to be cooked, extra water.
As much as he wanted to ignore the dark cottage next door, his conscience nagged at him. His instinct to avoid any and all interaction with his new neighbor warred with a sense of unease at the thought of her alone in the dark during the storm.
His conscience won. With a deep sigh, he went to the closet and took out his raincoat. He grabbed some candles, matches, and an extra flashlight lantern. Hoping she wouldn’t take this as an overture toward friendship, he opened the door, bracing himself against the buffeting winds and pelting rain. Holding up the lantern to light his way, he sprinted the short distance to her cottage and climbed the porch stairs, grateful for the overhang over the front door for meager protection against the elements.
As he paused there, irritation at this deviation from his habit of avoiding people poked at him. Why should he care if some city person didn’t know enough to prepare for storms?
Connor Dempsey. Mind your manners. We were raised better than this. He swore he could hear his older sister’s voice chastising him.
“I hear you, Megs,” he said under his breath.
He rapped briskly on the door and then waited for Amanda to answer.
What was taking her so long? He scowled and knocked again, this time harder. Maybe she couldn’t hear him over the noise of the storm?
Well, if she didn’t answer, there wasn’t much he could do, now was there? He turned to leave, then sighed, still hearing Megan’s voice. Turning back once more, he pounded on the door this time and called out her name. “Amanda? You in there? It’s Connor.”
“Come in.”
He barely heard her over the storm. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. He stepped inside, dripping water on her floor, and swept the lantern high, illuminating the room.
Amanda lay on the floor. His heart did a double-beat, and he crossed the distance in two long strides. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I just tripped over the coffee table when I was trying to find my phone so I’d have some light to look for flashlights or candles.”
He knelt beside her. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. Really. I am.”
He stood up and reached down a hand. She hesitated slightly, then grasped his hand as he pulled her to her feet. She stood unsteadily for a moment, then regained her balance.
“So you came to check on me?” She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him with a bit of skepticism.
“Saw it was dark over here. Wasn’t sure you had storm supplies. Sometimes when the island loses electricity, it takes a while to come back on.”
“I’m not sure if there are flashlights here or not.”
“I brought you some.” He set the lantern down and pulled two flashlights out of his pocket. “And candles and matches. But be careful with those. Don’t leave them unattended.” Last thing he needed was for his neighboring cottage to burn down.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I wouldn’t leave them unattended. Give me some credit.”
He set the flashlights, candles, and matches on the table. “So you’re good?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you for the flashlights. If I find some here, I’ll return yours right away.”
“Don’t be going out in this storm. It’s not safe.”
“You went out in it.”
He let out a long sigh. “Because I thought it was the right thing to do to check on you.”
“Well, it was very kind of you.”
He shrugged awkwardly, wanting to make his escape.
“Can I repay you with a hot cup of coffee? I’d just finished making it when the lights went out.”
As much as he was tempted by a hot drink, he didn’t really want to stay.
“Please, it’s the least I can do to thank you.”
Without waiting for him to say yes, she grabbed a flashlight and headed to the kitchen, then promptly returned with two mugs. He couldn’t really say no now, could he? He shrugged off his raincoat and hung it on a coat rack by the door. She pressed a mug into his hand. They stood there awkwardly, the silence between them roaring louder than the clashes of thunder outside.
She turned and set her mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to look for flashlights here.”
She returned with candlestick holders. “Found these.” She put the candles in and lit them. A warm glow surrounded them.
She turned toward the couch. “Come. Sit down.”
Once again, she didn’t wait for an answer and that annoyed him, but he did what she said. She sat on the couch and he sank into an armchair across from it.
“You got things to eat if you can’t cook?”
“I do. Crackers and cheese. Some fruit. Um… well, I’m sure I have other things.”
He should offer to let her come over for food if she ran out, but he wasn’t ready to make that suggestion just yet. He’d wait and see how long the electricity stayed off. He took a sip of coffee. It was surprisingly good. Not some run-of-the-mill coffee from a can.
“It’s good. The coffee, I mean.”
“Thank you. I bought some ground coffee beans from Beverly at Coastal Coffee. You know her, right?”
“Kind of.” It was more like he knew of Beverly. Everyone did. But he didn’t go to her cafe or anything. He preferred to eat at home. But he did know most of the locals. At least who was who. Not that he was really friends with any of them. He liked his solitude. Liked it a lot.
“Beverly and her friend Maxine are helping me with the Heritage Festival. I took over organizing it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because they needed help and I have experience planning events.”
“But you’re not even from here.”
“But I have fond memories of going to the festival with my parents when I was young. I’d hate to see it end just because they didn’t have someone to run it this year.”
“Seems like a strange way to spend your vacation time.” He shook his head.
“I’m kind of enjoying it. It was a hard adjustment from being so constantly busy in New York to just having all this time on my hands here in Magnolia. Besides, Beverly and Maxine and a lot of people are very grateful for my help.” She shrugged. “Not everyone. Some are as skeptical as you are.”
“Still think it’s strange for an outsider to plan the event.”
“That’s what event planners do. Plan events. That’s what I do for a living.” She flashed her eyes at him. “And I’m very good at what I do.”
Her eyes were filled with determination. That was easy to see, even in the light from the candles.
“If that’s how you want to spend your time. Still seems strange to me.” He shrugged.
“It is what I want to do. And I’m meeting people around town and…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I know. You like your space.” She stood. “Thanks for the flashlights and candles.”
He swallowed the last of his coffee, wishing he could ask for a to-go cup, and handed her the mug.
She followed him over to the door and he slipped his raincoat back on. “Mind those candles,” he said as he left.
It took every ounce of Amanda’s self-control not to slam the door behind Connor as he left. The nerve of the man, treating her like some clueless, incompetent twit. Did he honestly believe she needed a lecture on candle safety?
She’d been planning events for years—complete with candles—and knew exactly how to handle a few decorative flames. And his dismissive attitude about her running the festival? Completely uncalled for. She didn’t need that either. He was just another skeptic. She’d had enough of them.
Determination surged through her. She’d show all of them, Connor Dempsey included. She would. This Heritage Festival would be the most spectacular one the town had ever seen. She’d show them firsthand exactly what Amanda Kingston was capable of achieving. She’d pour everything she had into this festival, leaving no detail overlooked, until even the most stubborn doubters would have to acknowledge she was good at her job. Including Connor.
She went to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, savoring the comforting aroma. Might as well enjoy it while it was still warm. Who knew when she’d be able to brew another pot? The warmth from the mug seeped into her palms as she took the coffee back to the couch and settled onto it, curling her legs beneath her.
She glanced at the flashlights and extra candles he’d brought over for her. That was such a nice, neighborly thing to do. Although she could tell he was irritated that he’d done it. Like it actually pained him to do something nice for someone.
Whatever. That Connor Dempsey was the most infuriating man. She probably should have asked him to show some pieces in the arts and crafts show like Beverly suggested. But somehow, she was certain he would have said no. His standoffish—bordering on rude—manner made it clear he wasn’t much interested in participating in community events.
Fine. They’d have the show without his carvings. They didn’t need them. She’d find other artists willing to show their work. She snatched her notebook off the table and jotted some notes.
She’d showcase other local artists and bring the community together with a festival the likes of which they’d never seen.
She’d show Connor she was good at her job. She’d show everyone.