Reclaiming Her Heart (Serenity Bay Series Book 1) Read online

  Reclaiming Her Heart

  The Serenity Bay Series

  Callie Timmins

  Copyright © 2019 by Callie Timmins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are created from the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  A Heart For Christmas

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Mom! Mom! Look what I found! Can I keep it?”

  “Oh my goodness!” Jasmine Davidson squealed at the rubber snake dangling in front of her face. An older couple eating their breakfast by the front window turned their heads in curiosity at her sudden outburst. “Where on earth did you find that?”

  Placing a tray of empty dishes on a nearby table, she paused a moment to catch her breath and raised her hand in reassurance to the couple who had been enjoying a peaceful meal before she interrupted the quiet ambience with her carry-on.

  “A guest left it behind.” Eloise, her nine-year-old daughter, grinned, twirling the black and red snake between her fingers. “Remember the man with the funny costumes who said that the traveled? He left it on his pillow.”

  “Eloise!” Jasmine admonished, trying to keep her voice low and steady so as not to disturb the few remaining guests as they finished their breakfast. “Did you go into someone’s room without permission?”

  “No!” Eloise shook her head, her unruly blonde curls bouncing like springs. “He checked out, so I went to help clean up.”

  Jasmine knelt in front of her daughter, clasping her hands between her own. “Sweetie, you can’t just wander into people’s rooms. We’ve been over this before.” If there was one thing she was paranoid about with running the B&B, it was her daughter’s safety.

  “Why not?” Eloise’s blue eyes, exactly the same shade as her estranged father’s, stared back at her. Wide, innocent and curious. “I saw him take his cases and leave.”

  “I know,” Jasmine replied, knowing full well the traveling performer was due to check out mid-morning. But that wasn’t the point. She was trying to teach Eloise to respect other people’s privacy and not wander off into the guest areas whenever she felt like it. Besides, with all the people passing through the bed and breakfast, it was difficult to know who to trust these days. It only took one person to do the wrong thing … “It’s still early and he could come back.”

  “Nah.” Eloise lowered her gaze, running her fingers over the snake’s back. “He said he had a big drive because he has to do more performances. He had to leave.”

  “Well, you know how I feel about you playing in the guest rooms. They’re out of bounds unless you’re with Tara or myself, okay? And speaking of hitting the road,” she gave Eloise’s arm a light squeeze and pushed to her feet. “You need to get ready for school.”

  “Can’t I stay and help today? Please?” Eloise folded her arms and tilted her head to the side. Her lips forming a perfect pout as she pleaded her case.

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to manage on my own, but thank you.” Jasmine smiled at her daughter’s offer, although she wondered if Eloise’s offers were a ploy to stay home from school rather than because she actually wanted to help. “Come on, go get your backpack.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  With one hand on her hip, Jasmine watched Eloise skip out of the dining room and up the corridor towards their living quarters. She was such a sweet kid. Most of the time Jasmine thought she was doing a decent job juggling being a single parent with running the bed and breakfast on the outskirts of Serenity Bay. But when Eloise genuinely offered to help, she wondered if the burden of her workload was really that obvious.

  Jasmine straightened the stems in the vase of cream roses and pink lilies on the polished walnut timber side table, picked up the tray of dirty dishes and made small talk with the older couple finishing their breakfast.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked manicured lawns and then across to the sparkling waters of Serenity Bay. Boats of various sizes bobbed up and down in their moorings at the marina further along to the right. A wooden jetty out into the sheltered area of the bay where several fishermen cast their lines waiting for the perfect catch.

  “Looks like another lovely day out there. Is it always so perfect?” Janice, a woman in her mid-sixties with a chic blonde-bob sighed as she gazed out the window.

  “Most of the time, yes.” Jasmine smiled, resting the wooden tray on her hip as she eyed the seagulls hovering expectantly near the jetty, waiting for their morning feed. “Of course, being on the coast means we get the storms that roll in off the ocean, but we also have a wonderful view of the lightning show from right here.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly got a wonderful place. And your food is divine. Give my regards to the chef.” Roger grinned, leaning back in his chair and patting his ample stomach.

  Jasmine’s face warmed under the older man’s praise as she bid her goodbyes and returned to the kitchen. When she’d bought the dilapidated house years ago, it had been her dream to make it into a welcoming place for tourists. With stunning, unhindered ocean views, she’d worked hard to make it a place of comfort - offering homemade meals, warm hospitality and interacting with her guests to make them feel right at home and wanting to return on their next vacation.

  Returning home to Serenity Bay with her newborn had been a no-brainer. Jasmine had only meant to stay for a month or so until she sorted her life out before continuing on up the west coast. But her hometown, with its crystal blue waters, friendly locals and slower pace of life had been the haven she’d needed to nurse the wounds of a failed marriage and put all thought of her poor excuse of her ex-husband behind her.

  When the opportunity arose to purchase the run down house next to old Frank Thompson’s farm at the end of Main Road, Jasmine jumped at the chance to convert it into a bed and breakfast, essentially killing two birds with one stone. She needed a job. And she needed somewhere safe to raise Eloise. She didn’t want to work odd hours at the gas station a mile out of town, or behind the till at the Pack ‘n Save, and never see her daughter.

  With the settlement from her divorce, she was proud of the progress she’d made in renovating the house, with the help of her brother Jackson, resurrecting it back to its former glory. With its large wrap-around porch overlooking the azure waters of the Pacific Ocean, the lush green gardens alive with annuals blooming in vibrant color, and the bright, airy rooms providing a welcoming haven for visitors passing through the seaside town, Vista on the Bay was her pride and joy, second to Eloise.

  Busy with raising her daughter and running the B&B gave her little time to think o
f Scott, her cheating husband who quit their marriage almost the moment she announced her pregnancy. They’d been heading down that path anyway. With Scott’s drinking and his unpredictable bouts of anger, life was far from bliss. He’d never laid a hand on her, but Jasmine lived in fear that a day would soon come that he would.

  As high school sweethearts, they’d left Serenity Bay with the world at their feet. Moving to different locations with Scott’s position in the armed forces meant life was an adventure. New towns. New friends. But when he returned from his tour in Afghanistan, something had changed. Gone was the fun-loving Scott she’d once known, and in his place was the shell of a man battling demons at every turn. And he never hid the fact he found comfort with other women after a night of drinking. Volatile and prone to bouts of depression, Jasmine held onto a sliver of hope that a child might help him change. Instead, the news of her pregnancy escalated his ire, and she knew bringing a child into such an explosive relationship would not be wise.

  “I’m ready to go, Mom.” Eloise skipped into the office where Jasmine was perusing the stock inventory for the week. She added hand soap, paper towels and weed spray to the list of items to purchase.

  “Cleaned your teeth?”

  “Yep.” Eloise blew a minty fresh breath in Jasmine’s face.

  “Come on, you.” Jasmine laughed, pushing the chair against the desk and grabbing her daughter’s hand as they walked into the foyer.

  “Morning, Eloise.” Tara, the gray-haired receptionist glanced up from the computer. Folding her blue-rimmed glasses into their case, she stood. “All ready to go?”

  They had a good arrangement. The older woman, whose husband had passed away the same year Jasmine opened Vista on the Bay for business, agreed to drive Eloise to school every morning before collecting the mail at the post office and taking the previous day’s takings to the bank.

  Eloise adjusted her backpack on her shoulders and nodded.

  “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Jasmine pulled her daughter into her arms and squeezed tight, inhaling the sweet strawberry scent of her shampoo, before placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll pick you up this afternoon.”

  “Bye, Mom.” She grabbed a mint from the bowl on the front desk and popped it into her mouth before skipping across the timber floorboards to the front door.

  “Oh, by the way, I think this guy will be a nightmare.” Tara tapped a finger on the computer screen.

  “Who?” Jasmine squinted at the blurred name on the booking spreadsheet, making a mental note to book an appointment with the optometrist to get her eyes tested. “Elijah Rineholt? How do you know? It looks like he’s booked a room for two weeks. That’s an ideal guest in my opinion.”

  “On paper,” Tara replied, hooking the straps of her handbag over the crook of her arm. “But he’s emailed through a half dozen questions about the town and surrounding area so far. It’s like he wants to know everything before he even sets foot on the property. That rings alarm bells, my dear.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Jasmine straightened the arrangement of flowers on the reception desk, plucking off some dead leaves and tossing them into the trash can. “When is he checking in?”

  “Tomorrow. Maybe he’ll redeem himself and be a cute businessman looking to enjoy some rest and relaxation by the sea. But I seriously doubt it, given the number of calls of interest, and property developers we’ve had staying over the past few months.”

  Jasmine adjusted the elastic band around her ponytail and blew her long bangs out of her eyes. “I don’t care what he looks like. As long as his credit card is in the black and he can pay for his stay, I really don’t mind.”

  “It is. Although it’s a company card,” Tara replied, perching her sunglasses on the mop of curls on her head. “He seemed like a jerk with all his nosy questions, so I ran it ahead of time.”

  “Tara!”

  Her friend paused by the front door. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later. People like him always try to fleece small business owners out of their livelihood. You’ve got to be careful, Jasmine. You’ve worked so hard to make this a wonderful holiday destination. I know things are a little tight, but I’m just looking out for your best interests. Come on, Eloise. Let’s get you to school.”

  “Thanks? I think?” Jasmine murmured once Tara followed Eloise out the front door. The tinkling of the bell above the glass door subsided, and she settled herself behind the computer. In the bigger scheme of things, Tara’s digging around into someone’s credit history didn’t matter too much. Besides, a confirmed two-week stay was better than none.

  She glanced at the ever-growing pile of invoices on the desk and sighed. If only she could drum up some more business like this Elijah Rineholt fellow. Whoever he was. That would settle the unease in the pit of her stomach about how fine she was cutting it with the profit margin.

  Jasmine glanced at the large white clock hanging on the wall in the foyer. She still had a few minutes to spare before she needed to start cleaning the room vacated by the itinerant performer.

  Opening a new tab on the computer, she typed in Elijah’s name. She brushed flecks of dust off the front of her jeans and waited for the search to load, convincing herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong. This Elijah fellow had grilled Tara about her property, so she was returning the inquisition, that’s all. Besides, with Eloise running around the B&B, she wanted to be sure he wasn’t a convicted felon.

  Rineholt Developers. The first link informed Jasmine that Elijah and John Rineholt were property developers who specialized in bringing life to small towns and communities by developing attractive and affordable apartment buildings and retirement hubs.

  Great. That’s all I need. A hotshot property developer looking down his nose at us and trying to take over the town. Jasmine clicked through several articles, and then on the images.

  Her breath caught in her throat when piercing green eyes stared back at her from the screen. A navy suit and crisp white shirt hugged broad shoulders. Wavy dark brown hair swept over his forehead, while stubble peppered his rigid jaw. Handsome was one word to describe the image of the man staring down the lens of the camera. Rugged. Serious. Breathtaking.

  Finally releasing her breath, Jasmine leaned closer, noting the fine lines feathering out from the corners of his eyes, the just-right slant of his nose, and the way his smile didn’t quite reach those emerald greens. Mesmerized by his almost perfect features, Jasmine traced over every line of his face with her eyes.

  Footsteps echoed along the corridor and voices drew near. She quickly clicked out of the screen and tried to focus on the run sheet for the day. It didn’t matter if Elijah Rineholt was handsome, or her stomach did a number of somersaults at the sight of his face on the screen. It didn’t matter if he was a successful businessman and was worth more than she could ever dream of making in a lifetime. All that mattered was that he paid his bill and would be a good guest.

  Chapter 2

  After checking out the overnight guests, catching up on paperwork and balancing the payment records, Jasmine flipped the sign in the front door to ‘closed’. New guests would arrive later in the afternoon, which meant she had time to run some errands and visit her neighbor. Carrying a paper bag full of the morning’s leftovers, the sun warmed her bare arms as she strode along the cobblestoned path and through the side gate towards the Thompson farm.

  Frank Thompson had farmed the large plot of land on the coastal road out of town for as long as Jasmine could remember. Over the years, developers had tried to lure him with large offers of money and move him on, but he was as stubborn as they came and firmly stood his ground. His family had owned the farm for generations, and Frank vowed it was where he would be buried.

  Jasmine took him leftovers and helped run him to appointments in town. In turn, Frank gave her produce to use in the meals for the B&B. Jasmine was pleased with the trade, and it had saved her a few hundred dollars this year alone. Being a sole proprietor and a single pa
rent meant she was grateful for any savings.

  “Hi, Frank.” Jasmine strode through the knee-high grass to where Frank was working on a fence at the edge of his property. His red and black checked flannel button up shirt was rolled up at the sleeves. Dark patches of oil and grease blotted his gray trousers. “I brought you some leftovers and came to see what work you might need help with this week.”

  “This fence. Knock it down.” Frank tapped the top rail of the timber fence. The uprights of the fence running across the front of the property leaned precariously. Some of the cross bars were barely hanging on by the nails, rusted from years of exposure to the sea air.

  “What do you mean?” Jasmine glanced at her sun-weathered friend. A halo of gray hair stood up from his head. “You and that fence are like best friends. It’s been there forever.”

  “That’s the problem.” Frank shuffled away, adjusting the pants on his waist. “I’m tired of it.”

  “Are you all right, Frank? Are you not feeling well?” A frown creased her brow as she eyed the older man. His once strong frame now hunched over with age.

  “I’m okay, love. I’m just tired and getting too old for everything. I’m just having a whinge.” His gruff voice softened to the tone Jasmine was more familiar with.

  “Well,” she replied, pushing off the fence and snapping off a blade of grass. “It just so happens that there’s a property developer staying with me this week. Perhaps he could talk to you about options for your farm if you’re finding it too much work.”

  “No!” Frank snapped. A flock of birds in a nearby tree squawked and flew away.