Lavender Beach Read Free Page A

winter lawns came alive with green patches of ryegrass and clover springing up alongside pesky dandelions and creeping Charlie.
    She lifted her head to breathe in the soft ocean breezes that floated through birch and cypress and big leaf maple. The swaying branches reminded her she’d spent the first week along the coast in the country. She’d acclimated herself to the region while a guest at the bed and breakfast called Promise Cove, courtesy of Nick and his wife Jordan. 
    The second week she’d rented a little guesthouse in town that had belonged to Bran and Joy Sullivan before the couple retired and sold Bran’s vet practice to Cord and Keegan Bennett.
    Her only other option for housing had been a loft located over the town’s flower shop owned by Drea Jennings. Since Drea had moved in with her boyfriend Zach Dennison, the florist had been looking for a renter. The apartment had come fully furnished, which was an attractive incentive for a woman like Eastlyn who moved around a lot.
    Too bad it was out of her price range.
    Despite having to pass on Drea’s digs, Eastlyn had settled into the clapboard cottage across the courtyard from the animal clinic.
    Before selling the property, Joy Sullivan had spruced it up, painting the tiny bungalow a soft mint green with white and brown trim. It had an espresso front door with matching shutters that brought to mind dark chocolate wafers. To Eastlyn, the whole color scheme made the tiny house look like a yummy French petit-four sitting on a party tray.
    The narrow porch out front held a wicker rocker, a little round table, and several clay pots filled with sweet-smelling alyssum. Joy had gone to the trouble to landscape the flowerbeds along the sidewalk. Red and white Americana “splash” geraniums fought for space next to dark blue sweet peas, presenting a patriotic theme up and down the footpath.
    Eastlyn liked to sit outside and watch the sunset over the bay. Nightfall brought even more excitement when she’d wait patiently to watch the neighborhood kids dash home from the park down the street in time to eat supper. The occasional dog might wander by, hoping for a scratch or a rubdown.
    She’d learned over the past few weeks to enjoy the slower pace, to take in the night sounds as the stars popped out overhead, to inhale the aroma of Mrs. McKay’s cooking next door and know the old woman had fried up another batch of liver and onions.
    All in all, Eastlyn had settled in without fanfare or notice. She found the little house practical and cheap—a detail she knew had been orchestrated by Nick and Jordan.
    The place wasn’t perfect, but then what in life was.
    Finding a parking place for her Bronco had been a problem. What used to double as the Sullivans’ main house and clinic was now used solely for the purpose of the Bennett veterinary practice. It seemed pet owners were forever showing up for scheduled office visits and dropping off sick animals for treatment at odd hours of the day and part of the night. Lack of street parking had proved the only annoying aspect of living in the five-hundred-square-foot house.
    Eastlyn had fixed the place up, made it homey. At least, better looking than the room she’d rented back at the Bakersfield boarding house. By doing her furniture shopping at Reclaimed Treasures, she’d been able to furnish her three little rooms. For fifty bucks she’d found a bedframe made out of old doors. Another fifty got her a round pedestal farm table with two chairs. For seventy-five she’d scored an aqua-colored mid-century sofa still in good shape.
    She’d picked up a good deal on dishes and the necessary kitchen items. But the things she treasured the most were those accessories she hadn’t really needed at all, things she’d splurged on—like the wide Cape Cod bookcase made from salvaged lumber and old windows. The piece had been pricey at a hundred and fifty and took up an entire wall. It was her pride and joy because that’s where she