Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
T he morning after the storm was bright and clear with a blue sky. Archer had gone home after the rain had stopped. Actually, it was in the wee hours of the morning, Luna supposed.
They drank tea, talked about life, and spent way too much time looking into each other’s eyes. She didn’t know what was going on, and she couldn’t think about it this morning. She was slightly embarrassed, to be honest. She had never become so close to a client, and it certainly was not something she intended to do.
Of course, Archer was not working with her for therapy. He was using her services to learn about yoga and breathing and meditation, but the lines were still blurry in her eyes. Being a professional therapist, she shouldn’t have let it go so far to where she put her head on his shoulder. What was she thinking?
Either way, she had more important things to focus on when she stepped out onto Serenity’s porch and surveyed the damage. Tree branches littered the yard, and debris from the beach had washed up nearly to the steps. But she noticed something even more important—the signs of the community coming together. She could see neighbors out in force, clearing branches and checking on each other.
"Luna!" Julie called, waving from the road. She was wearing work gloves and had a determined expression on her face. "Are you okay? How’s Serenity?"
"Still standing," Luna said, smiling. "Just needs a little cleanup. How did the inn do? And Down Yonder?"
"Same. We were lucky on both counts, but some of the shops on Main Street got hit pretty hard. We’re all heading over there to help out. Are you in?"
Luna nodded. "Yeah, let me go grab my gloves, and I’ll be there in a few minutes."
She turned back inside and nearly collided with Archer, who was somehow already at her house and carrying a stack of fallen shutters.
"Whoa, easy there."
"Sorry," Luna said, steadying herself with his arm. "I didn’t know you had come back over here. I guess I’m in a little bit of a hurry to get over to Main Street. Julie said it’s all hands on deck."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go."
They walked together to the heart of town, joining the throng of residents already hard at work. Luna saw SuAnn directing traffic, a tray of sandwiches in hand. Dixie was helping sweep up glass from a broken storefront along with her husband. She was wearing one of her usual colorful outfits with hot pink capri pants and a white t-shirt that had a sequined flamingo on the front.
Luna and Archer jumped right in, helping in the efforts to clear debris and salvage what they could from the damaged shops. Luna also got to meet some people she hadn’t yet met. Janine’s husband, William, who ran marsh tours in town, introduced himself, as did both of Julie’s daughters, Colleen and Meg. Colleen had a brand-new baby, so she wasn’t able to help out too much, although she did have the baby attached to her in a sling, while her husband, Tucker, helped hang an awning that had fallen down in the winds. Meg’s husband, Christian, helped corral their daughter most of the time, while Meg handed out food with her grandmother.
Luna couldn’t believe how the community had come together so quickly, like they were one big family. Archer and Luna worked in tandem easily. They hauled a waterlogged bench out of the florist’s shop, and Luna couldn’t help but marvel at the way everyone had rallied so quickly. Nobody was a stranger today. They were just neighbors, friends, and a community united.
"Quite a sight, isn’t it?" Archer said, as if he could read her mind. He nodded toward where Tom, the once-gruff fisherman from class, was replanting flowers alongside others in the community.
"This is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. Everybody came together so quickly. I mean, they’re already planting flowers," Luna said.
"That’s Seagrove for you. We take care of our own."
Luna smiled. "We? So are you calling Seagrove your home again?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. I wouldn’t say that, necessarily. I don’t really know what the future holds at this point, but right now, Seagrove is my hometown. Always will be."
The sun started beating overhead, and it seemed like the storm from the night before hadn’t even happened. They all worked through the morning, pausing only to eat sandwiches and lemonade from SuAnn’s seemingly endless supply. By afternoon, Main Street was looking a lot more like itself—a bit battered but not broken.
As they surveyed their handiwork, Archer put his arm around Luna’s shoulders unexpectedly, a gesture that made her heart literally flutter.
"Not bad for a day’s work," he said, squeezing her gently.
She leaned in a little too much, savoring the warmth of his presence. "Yeah, not bad at all."
Around them, the town came back to life. Shopkeepers swept their stoops, and neighbors made plans for shared dinner meals as children chased each other through the streets. Seagrove, once again, had proven itself unshakable.
Standing there, surrounded by the hum of neighbors chatting, Luna realized that she had proven herself unshakable, too. With Archer by her side and this community at her back, she felt ready to weather whatever storms might come. And the fact that she was even thinking that way scared her.
* * *
A rcher stood at the first tee, his hands holding the club like a lifeline. The familiar green expanse stretched out before him, but today it felt like a battlefield instead of a playground.
"Are you ready?" Luna asked softly from beside him.
He looked over at her. When she'd offered to come with him today to guide him through some breathing techniques they'd been practicing, he'd been hesitant at first. The golf course had always been his sanctuary. It was a place where he could escape the craziness of the world and focus just on the game. Bringing Luna into that space felt like a risk, like he was exposing a part of himself that he liked to keep hidden. But as he stood there, he felt the tension coiling in his shoulders like a rattlesnake. He knew he needed her steady presence more than he ever did.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he said, trying to sound lighthearted even though he didn't feel that way.
She nodded and stepped back to give him space. "Now remember, it's not about the score today. It's about finding that peaceful connection again, that joy in the game."
He took a deep breath and focused on the word joy. When was the last time he felt that on the course? Golf had always been about perfection, about pushing himself to be better, faster, stronger. But now, with the injury and the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, he had to find joy in a different way.
He set up his shot, feeling the old familiar motions come back to him. As he drew the club back, he felt the twinge in his shoulder and his breath hitched, signaling pain.
"Breathe," Luna murmured from behind him, "just like we practiced."
He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of his breath—in and out, slow and steady. He pictured the tension flowing out of him like water, leaving his body. As he exhaled, he swung and felt the club connect with the ball in a satisfying thwack. The ball soared down the fairway. It certainly wasn't his farthest drive ever, but it was straighter and truer than he'd managed in months. He couldn't help himself and felt a grin tug at his lips.
"Beautiful!” Luna said. When he turned to her, he could see the pride in her eyes. "How did that feel?"
"Like a beginning," he said. "Like maybe there's still a place for me out here after all."
She reached out, her hand finding his. "There will always be a place for you, Archer. On the course, in Seagrove, and in my life."
The words hung between them. He felt his throat tighten. What did that mean, exactly?
"Thank you," he managed to say, squeezing her hand, "for being here, for believing in me."
"Always," Luna said softly. "Now, let's see what other magic we can make out here today."
They made their way down the fairway, and Archer felt a different kind of hope taking root inside of him. With Luna by his side, he felt like he could conquer the world. Like he could face anything, even the uncertain future that still stretched out before him.
* * *
A rcher stood on the driving range and watched as a group of kids gathered around him. They all looked so eager and excited, and it reminded him of when he was a kid and started golfing with his dad.
When he'd first mentioned the idea of giving some free lessons to local youth, Dawson jumped into action. He was enthusiastic about everything. If he had to describe Dawson to somebody else, it would be a golden retriever. He was always at the ready and excited for whatever was to come.
Dawson also saw the idea of giving lessons as a sign of growth in Archer. He always saw the best in him. Some of the country club members had been skeptical, wondering what a former golfer would gain from teaching a bunch of scrappy Seagrove kids. But Archer looked out at the crew assembled before him and felt a sense of rightness in his bones. Right now, this is where he was meant to be, sharing his love of the game with a new generation.
"Okay, everybody," he said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Who's ready to learn how to swing like a pro?"
A chorus of excited cheers went up from the kids. He smiled, feeling their enthusiasm wash over him like a medicine.
"Okay, first things first," he said, picking up a club. "Your grip. If you don't start with the right grip, everything else about your game is going to fall apart."
He showed them the proper hand placement and then moved through the group, adjusting fingers and offering critiques and encouragement. As he worked, he couldn't help but be excited about the way the kids were soaking up his instructions, their faces lighting up with determination. It was a whole different side of the game he'd never witnessed himself. He was that kid back in those days, and then he went on to be a professional. He was only worried about himself, but now he was feeling joy from these children.
Had he ever been quite as eager and hungry to learn as they were? He tried to remember back to his early days, but all he remembered was the pressure of tournaments and sponsorships that eventually weighed him down.
"Coach Archer, do you mean like this?" One of the boys, a pretty scrawny kid with a mop full of red hair, held up his club.
Archer crouched down and made a small adjustment. "Perfect, you're a natural, kid."
The boy smiled, puffing up with pride. Archer felt warmth in his chest. This is what he'd been missing, this pure love of the game, untainted by any expectations or competition or ego. As the lesson progressed, he found himself lost in the rhythm of teaching, laughing and chatting with the kids. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, he didn't feel the pain in his shoulder. It must have been there somewhere in the background, but it was being overpowered by joy and satisfaction.
"Looks like you've got quite the fan club."
Archer turned and saw Luna standing at the edge of the range. He felt his heart flip over in his chest.
"What can I say?" he said, trying to act nonchalant. "I'm always a hit with the under-twelve crowd."
"Yeah, I probably wouldn't go around saying things like that in public," Luna said, laughing. "Seriously though, this is wonderful. Look at how happy they are."
Archer looked over at the kids as they grinned and chatted with each other, each of them practicing their grip. "You know, I didn't realize how much I needed this," he said softly, "to remember what it's like to just love something for the sake of loving it."
She touched his arm. "Well, sometimes the greatest gifts come in unexpected packages."
"Thank you for encouraging me to do this, for always seeing something in me that I can't see in myself."
"You've always had it in you, Archer. You just needed a little reminder of who you are beneath all the accolades and expectations."
As the day wound to a close and Luna headed back to Serenity, Archer held on to the feeling—the love for the game, the joy of sharing it with others, and the support of this woman he'd been lucky enough to meet.
* * *
L una spread out a blanket on the sand, watching as Archer unpacked the picnic basket he'd brought. The evening air was warm, as it often was in the South Carolina Lowcountry, and carried with it the salty-sweet scent of the ocean. She'd never expected this. Hadn't expected him to suggest that they share dinner on the beach after her last class of the day.
"All right, SuAnn insisted on providing the food," he said, pulling out the containers. "I don't want you to think I'm lying about being a good cook or something. It's definitely not my forte. But I think she's convinced that we're both too busy to eat properly."
Luna smiled, thinking of SuAnn's motherly concern. "You know, she's not wrong. Most days I forget about lunch entirely."
"Well, that stops now," Archer said, his tone mock-serious. "Coach's orders."
"Ah, Coach?" Luna raised an eyebrow. "So I see the kids at the golf course are rubbing off on you."
"They're good kids, eager to learn, with no agenda except the pure joy of hitting that ball really far. I'm trying to remember back when I felt the same way. When competition wasn't a thing and I was just competing with myself."
Luna watched him arrange the food and noticed that his movements were getting more fluid by the day. He was way less guarded with his physical movement.
"You know, you're different when you talk about teaching."
"Different how?"
"I don't know, more at peace, maybe? Like you found something you didn't know you were looking for."
Their eyes met briefly before Archer looked away, opening a container. "Well, maybe I have."
They ate in comfortable silence, watching the waves roll in. Luna couldn't help but steal glances at him, watching how the light played across his features and how, when he was around her, the tension in him seemed to lift.
"Tell me something," he finally said. "Something I don't know about you."
Luna considered the question, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Well, I used to be afraid of the ocean."
"You? But you're always talking about its healing properties."
"Well, that came later. But when I was little, after my parents split up, I would always have these dreams about drowning. It took me years before I would even put my feet in the water."
"What changed?"
"My abuela. She taught me that sometimes things that we fear the most are the things that will save us." She smiled at the memory. "Anyway, she would stand in the waves with me in Puerto Rico when I would visit and hold my hand and teach me to breathe with the rhythm of the water."
He was quiet for a moment. "Like you're teaching me to breathe through the pain."
"I guess so," Luna said softly. "We all need someone to stand in the waves with us sometimes."
The sun started to sink behind the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink.
"Do you ever miss Austin?" Archer asked.
"Sometimes, but not in the way you might think. I mean, I miss knowing where everything is and all of the familiarity of that, but I don't miss who I was when I was living there."
"And who were you there?"
"I was somebody who was always running, trying to fix everyone else so I wouldn't have to look too closely at my own broken pieces." She drew patterns in the sand beside the blanket absentmindedly. “Here I can just be. I can be whoever Luna is that day."
He nodded. "I get that. Before my injury, I was always chasing the next tournament, the next win. And I guess I thought if I won the next thing, I would feel something change inside of me. But I never really had time to stop and think about what I really wanted. And now..." He trailed off. "I am learning that maybe the things worth having aren't ones that you have to chase."
The words hung between them.
"You know, the kids at your lessons seem to understand that instinctively."
"Kids do," he agreed. "Most kids, anyway. They don't have all the pressure or expectations. They just follow joy without guilt or reservation.”
A cool breeze swept in from the ocean, making her shiver slightly. Archer reached over for his jacket but then seemed to catch himself, remembering that there was still a professional boundary between them, she supposed.
"Well, we should probably head back," Luna said. "Early class tomorrow."
"Right," Archer said, helping her pack up. "Thanks for sharing dinner with me and telling me the story about your grandmother."
"Thanks for asking," Luna said, smiling.