Searching for Peace: A Clean Enemies to Lovers Romantic Suspense (Coastal Hope)

1. Elijah

Ihate funerals.

As an Army Ranger, I’ve unfortunately attended my fair share, and if I can go the rest of my life without seeing another flag-draped coffin, I’d be more than happy.

Then again, the dark wooden box before me is adorned with flowers rather than red, white, and blue. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier. In a lot of ways, this might be even harder. After all, Edna wasn’t a soldier on the battlefield. She was an elderly woman—a grandmother who’d been in her home.

The lump in my throat grows.

An aged woman smiles back at me from a large, framed photograph, her silver hair pulled up in a bun, her green eyes bright with joy. She looks so happy, so completely thrilled to be staring back at whoever took that photograph.

All I feel is pain.

Grief.

We may not have been family by blood, and I may not have known her more than a few years, but Edna Montgomery was as good a woman as they come. After the first time I helped her carry groceries into her house, she’d practically adopted me as a surrogate grandson. I’d been surly when we first met, jaded by the horrors I’d seen on deployment, and she’d refused to let me continue to be bitter.

I spent three Easters, Thanksgivings, and Christmas afternoons with her. We’d sipped lemonade on her porch on lazy Sunday afternoons when I didn’t have to work, and I’d listened to her stories about her late husband and the joy he’d brought into her life before being stolen far too soon.

Now she’s gone. Heaven has gained an angel, but I lost mine.

“Mrs. Montgomery was a staple in this town,” Pastor Redding says sadly as he grips each side of the podium, his own eyes misty. His wife, one of Edna’s close friends, sniffles in a front pew. “She was a shining light, the kindest woman any of us have ever met. She’d never met a stranger and welcomed everyone as though they’d been a part of her life for as long as anyone can remember.”

All around me, people cry. Mrs. McGinley—the town’s librarian and Edna’s best friend—sniffs beside me. Reaching out, I cover her wrinkled hand with mine. She sets her other one over it and leans against my shoulder.

“Edna never had a negative thing to say about anyone, and I think we can all agree that her s’more cookies were the best ones around.”

“Best in the world!” Michael, my co-worker and brother in everything but blood, calls out.

People mutter in agreement. A few laugh softly. One woman lets out a choked sob.

“I know we’re all hurting,” the pastor says, “but take solace in knowing this is not the last time we will see our sister. For, one day, we will walk alongside her in heaven.” He bows his head. “Let us pray. Dear God, thank You for the time we were blessed to know Edna here on Earth. Thank You for blessing us with every moment spent. Every laugh shared. Please, God, be with her family and close friends as they mourn, and comfort us all in our pain by reminding us that she is with You. Amen.”

“Amen,” I murmur alongside everyone else in the pews.

The pastor smiles softly as his gaze travels over the congregation. “There will be another service at the gravesite, and we hope to see you there. Thank you all for coming.” He steps down, and everyone stands, lining up on the side of the church to greet the dark-haired beauty standing near the coffin.

Andie Montgomery—Edna’s granddaughter. She grew up here, living with Edna after her parents got divorced. Her father left town, and her mother dropped her at Edna’s then never came back.

According to what Edna said over the years, Andie was a quiet girl. Kind. But ended up leaving town with a man almost two times her age. It was a scandal though, in true Hope Springs fashion, no one will openly talk about it.

I do know that Edna gave her every penny in her savings account so Andie could start her own business. Which is exactly what she did as soon as she graduated from design school. The fashion company she started in New York has grown substantially in the last couple of years. It would be impressive if I weren’t so disgusted by her refusal to come visit the woman who’d raised her.

While I’ve never met Andie, Edna spoke about her nonstop. Raving about her brilliant granddaughter. Frankly, I don’t care much for a woman who couldn’t even be bothered to visit her grandmother on Christmas.

As far as I know, Andie Montgomery has not stepped foot in Hope Springs since the day she shook the dust off her fancy heels.

Even when Edna had been lying in the hospital bed, so weak she could hardly keep her eyes open, she’d begged me to watch over Andie. Urged me to reach out and make friends. Despite the fact that the woman never answered the dozen phone calls I made to her when I’d arrived at the hospital and discovered Edna would likely never leave her bed.

I should go up and introduce myself now, but the memory of Edna’s tear-stained cheek as she drew her last breath makes me think better of it. Better that I am not in the same room with Miss Montgomery longer than necessary.

My temper is already something I struggle with. And I’ve got more than a few unkind things to say to the woman.

“How are you doing?” Eliza Knight asks as she steps into my path, Lance—her husband and my boss—right beside her. Her blond hair is wavy and falls to her shoulders, and her eyes are red and swollen. She’d loved Edna too. We all did.

“Fine,” I reply. It’s far from the truth, but I’ll get there. It’s not like death is a stranger to me. First, my parents. Then, my grandmother. Over a dozen of my comrades. Now Edna. Nope, death and I are practically old friends, aren’t we?

“Edna was an amazing woman,” Eliza says as she brushes her hair behind her ear. “She sat front row at the library when Mrs. McGinley brought me in for a signing after my book released.” Her eyes mist. “I’ll never forget how she’d smiled at me when I’d been so nervous.”

Lance wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him.

“She was great,” I reply with a smile then turn to Lance. “I’m going to head home and check on a few things, then I’m headed to the office. You going to be in today?”

“Later,” he replies. “We’re going to head to the cemetery then the wake. You’re not coming?” His brows draw together, likely in surprise.

“Nope. No need to. I said my goodbyes when she was in the hospital.” Edna had a heart attack and had fallen in the shower. The paramedics called me first since I was her emergency contact, so I was with her right before she died. I was the one who called Andie over a dozen times to let her know she needed to fly out. And I was the one she hung up on when I’d finally gotten ahold of her and offered to help plan the service.

So, no. Spending any time with Andie Montgomery in any capacity is something I am just not interested in. Not now. Not ever.

“Are you sure?” Eliza questions. “You can ride with us.”

Because I can see that she’s worried about me, I plaster on a smile then lean in and kiss her noisily on the cheek. “I’m fine, I promise. See you both at the diner later?”

“Absolutely.” Lance waves, and he and Eliza head toward the line while I slip outside.

Early June rain drizzles down on me, but I pay it little notice as I head to the parking lot. The moment I turn the corner though, I stop, practically freezing in place. Andie is leaning against a black sedan parked directly next to my truck, eyes closed, face tilted up toward the sky.

Great. Fantastic.

Hoping she doesn’t notice as I slip by, I slide the key into my truck door and pull it open. The aged door groans in protest, and I cringe, silently scolding myself for not oiling the hinges this morning when I’d remembered I should. I’d nearly driven my car over instead, but Edna loved this truck.

It had been her husband’s, and I’ve been in the never-ending process of restoring it ever since she’d insisted I take it out of her garage.

“You’re Elijah Breeth.”

Here we go. Taking a deep breath, I turn. “Yes.”

“We spoke on the phone.” Very cut and dried, matter of fact.

“We did.”

“My grandmother adored you.”

“I felt the same for her.”

“She talked about you all the time.” Her gaze flicks to the truck. “Told me about how you were restoring my grandfather’s old truck.”

I cross my arms, unease prickling my spine. If she’s planning on taking this truck from me, she’ll have a fight. I have the title, a bill of sale, and enough money to take even her to court.

“Is there something you need?”

She narrows her gaze on me, piercing green eyes that might as well be emeralds for the color and lack of emotion. “You don’t like me.” Once again, it’s a statement rather than a question.

“I don’t know you,” I reply. “Difficult to not like someone when you don’t know anything about them.”

“According to my gran, you knew everything about everyone.” Her tone leaves no room for a rebuttal. “She said you made it your job.”

She wants to play ball? Fine. “Miss Andie Montgomery. Twenty-seven. Fashion icon out of New York. Never been married. No long-term relationships to speak of. Couldn’t be bothered to visit her grandmother once in the few years that I knew the woman. How am I doing?”

Most people will look at least mildly uncomfortable when you spout out facts about their lives. But this woman doesn’t even flinch.

“Congratulations on being a fantastic cyber stalker, Mr. Breeth. My grandmother undersold you.” Her tone drips with sarcasm. “As for not visiting, I’ve been busy building a business. My gran knew that. And our visitation schedule is none of your business.”

Her cool tone infuriates me. “You’re right. My mistake. Though it seems as though the woman who raised you dying alone in a hospital bed is the right time to set your business on hold.”

If looks could kill, I’d be joining Edna right about now. “My gran knew I loved her.”

“Sure she did.” I climb into the truck, but before I can close the door, Andie wraps slender fingers around the side of the door. Nails tipped with black, they’re nearly a perfect match for the dark hair cut to her shoulders.

“Are you going to the cemetery?”

“No,” I reply.

“Now who’s not making time?” she asks, releasing the door. “Have a good day, Mr. Breeth.”

Before I can say something I’ll need to seek repentance for later, I slam the door and pull out of the parking lot. Fury burns in my veins, and I know going home to check emails is just not going to do the trick.

I need the gym.

First home to change. Then straight to the gym to work off some steam.

Everything about Andie is in contrast to her grandmother.

She’s cold. Unfeeling.

Edna was the warmest, most loving woman I’ve ever known.

And as much as it pains me to admit it, I hope to never, ever have to cross paths with her granddaughter again. Edna’s final request echoes in my mind.

“Please watch over her, Elijah. She’s not as tough as she seems. She needs someone to watch out for her. You will, won’t you?”

I’d promised. How could I not? Edna had died a few heartbeats later, a smile on her face because I’d agreed to always watch over Andie.

Taking a deep breath, I whip into the parking lot of the lighthouse that now serves as our office building and my apartment.

Sorry, Edna, I think this might just be the one promise I have to break.