Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,4

course you have dear Fiona, but I’m sure you’ve had to put on a brave front even with her.” They continued walking, Kit’s arm hooked through Maria’s. “I’m glad you got away for a few days so you can focus on the simple things.” She gestured to the ocean, where some brave souls were playing in the waves, even in December. “And what’s better than a beach walk?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to move back to Texas with me?” Maria asked with a laugh.

“Are you sure you don’t want to move to Indigo Bay? We have beautiful weather all year long.”

“So do we.”

“Your part of Texas doesn’t have the ocean, and it gets too hot to breathe in the summer.”

“If we’re splitting hairs, Hill Country isn’t the hottest part of the state.”

“And your boys are still there. You can’t leave, especially since Myles and Levi have finally found love. The other three will follow, now that they’ve seen the waters aren’t shark infested. Soon there might be grandbabies, and you’ll want to be there for that.”

She would. Retirement hadn’t proved to be the golden ticket. Maria had discovered during her months in town that she was a rancher, born and bred, and it wasn’t something she could remove from her bloodstream. And maybe being a grandmother would fit her beautifully.

“I have to run out and meet the mayor at Sweet Caroline’s about the shelter’s gala. I’m the project’s treasurer.” Kit gave a wry smile. As an accountant, she was the treasurer for just about everything she volunteered for. “Did you ever meet Amanda Strickland?” Maria shook her head. “She’s a great mayor. She does it all while balancing her own architectural firm. You’d like her. Do you want to continue your walk and meet me at Sweet Caroline’s for supper in an hour?”

“Sure.” Maria recalled the small cafe from years before. “It’s still in the same place?”

“It is. Look for the blue awning if you get lost.”

“Are you sure I won’t interrupt anything?”

“You showing up will ensure the meeting doesn’t go on for ages. Or lead to murder, if Miss Lucille Sanderson shows up and horns in. She’s really nosing her way into this project.” Her friend smiled wickedly before she peeled off to head across the sand toward town.

Maria continued to walk the beach, memories of Miss Lucille coming to mind. She’d all but run the town eons ago, and it wasn’t difficult to believe she still had her nose in everyone’s business.

Gulls circled above as Maria stopped to pick up a fragment of shell. It was smooth from the sand and waves, and she wondered how long it took for shells to wear down. Likely like life, a little at a time.

She began walking again, increasing her pace. The burn in her thighs and calves from the effort of staying balanced in the loose sand reminded her of all the things she’d neglected over the past year.

Back home, whenever she tried to go for a walk, she was stopped by people thinking her vehicle had broken down and she needed a ride. It was lovely, but it didn’t help trim her hips or increase her cardiovascular fitness.

Soon Indigo Bay’s public beach ended and homes appeared along the shore. Maria stuck close to the water, avoiding the private beaches so she wouldn’t trespass. She’d made it past the first home, a stately renovated old mansion, when she heard her name on the ocean breeze.

The voice was awfully familiar and she turned toward the sound, her heart lifting. “Clint?”

He had come to Indigo Bay. And now, on her second day, they were already bumping into each other? How could that be a coincidence?

“I was wondering if I’d see you.” Clint came across the sand wearing uncharacteristically bright surfing shorts. He also had on a rash guard shirt, and his shaggy graying hair was wet and tousled. He looked handsome. Healthy. Happy. And different from the quiet mechanic she knew back home.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, taking him in with a lingering second glance. He’d just come from the water, a short, wide board under his arm.

“Oh,” he said, shoving a hand through his dripping hair. “I was learning to boogie board. The waves aren’t that big, so it was about perfect for an old guy like me.” There was that happy grin again.

“You’re not that old.”

“I’ll feel old tomorrow when these muscles tell me I’m not twenty-three anymore.”

“When did you get here?”

“A few hours ago.”

“And you’re