Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(23)

“I’m in a pinch and I’d really be grateful to have Linnea for even a little while. If she gets any opportunity to work in her field, I’ll be the first to encourage her to take it.”

Palmer looked at her, and she saw in his eyes that her big brother once again wanted to help her.

She nudged his shoulder gently. “Think back to when you were twenty-two,” Cara said. “If you had a chance to work in a warehouse downtown or in a cottage at the beach for the summer, which would you choose? And before you answer, remember that I have strong memories of you riding the surf every day.” She pointed toward the ocean. “Right out there. Despite those fancy silk Tommy Bahama shirts you wear now, you’re a surfer boy through and through.” She bumped his shoulder again.

Palmer released a reluctant smile. “All right. But just for the summer. And you save your money, hear?” he told Linnea, pointing a finger her way. “I don’t want you cryin’ to me to help you out come fall.”

“I won’t,” she fired back, but she was smiling.

“So,” Cara said, turning to Linnea, deflecting another argument. “You’re my new nanny?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, grinning.

“When can you start?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”



Chapter Six



The loggerhead uses her front flippers to clear a spot in the dry sand. Then she uses her hind flippers to dig a hole some twenty inches deep before laying 80 to 150 leathery eggs. When done, she refills the nest, then tosses sand to camouflage it from predators.

AS SOON AS she got home, Linnea went directly to her bedroom closet and pulled out a box tagged TURTLE TEAM from the shelf. She was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. The opportunity to be a nanny for Cara was a gift from the gods. It wasn’t the job she was looking for, but it was a job nonetheless that swept away the cloud of uncertainty that had hovered since graduation. With the major perk of being able to spend a summer at the beach house, the place of her best childhood memories.

She set the box on the bed, sweeping off a layer of dust from the lid. It’d been years since she’d opened this. She smiled at seeing her old turtle team T-shirts in assorted colors, along with a few pairs of indestructible nylon fishing pants. Her team uniform. Most of them she’d never be able to fit into again, but one or two of the later ones were promising. She pulled out a spring-green shirt, children’s size eight. She brought it to her nose and caught the faint sweet scent of soap. But in her mind she smelled the sea. . . .



“LINNEA, HURRY ALONG, child!”

“Coming, Grandmama Lovie!”

The rising sun created a tapestry of colors on the beach. This was eight-year-old Linnea’s first summer on the turtle team. Her parents were letting her stay weekends with Grandmama Lovie and Aunt Cara at the beach house. Time at the beach house was the best part of her week.

This morning she was bent at the knees watching Aunt Cara and Emmi at the turtle nest retrieving eggs and putting them into the red bucket. Lovie had decided that the nest was in a bad place for the eggs because it was below the high-tide line and the water would wash over the eggs, destroying them. So while the team opened the nest, Lovie was scouting for a good spot for the new nest. That’s where she was going now.

Linnea ran through the hot sand to catch up with her grandmother. She was the best teacher and knew the most because she’d been a turtle lady long before there were teams. Aunt Cara said she was the original turtle lady on Isle of Palms and Sullivan’s Island. Linnea was proud to be her granddaughter and felt privileged to be the first junior team member. She couldn’t touch the eggs or the hatchlings because she wasn’t permitted by the Department of Natural Resources, but the team gave her lots of other jobs.

She caught up with Lovie standing in front of a dune, her hands on her hips as she studied it. Lovie was so thin now Linnea didn’t think she weighed much more than she herself did. Lovie wore nylon pants and a long-sleeved TURTLE TEAM shirt, even though it was hot outdoors. On her head was a white floppy hat.

“Come take a look,” Lovie called to her, waving her closer.

When Linnea drew near, Lovie pointed to the dune.

“Here’s what I’m looking at. See that nice open patch of sand, the spot without any sea oats? That’s good because the roots won’t interfere with the nest. And it has a nice slope so the hatchlings have a clear path to the sea. Best of all, I know who lives in that house and she’ll keep the lights out. What do you think? Is this a good spot to put the nest?”

“Yes!”

Lovie’s face softened to a smile and her blue eyes shone with pride. “Good girl. Now, help your old grandmother down,” she said, reaching out for Linnea’s arm. With a bit of effort and a spell of coughing, Lovie got to her knees on the dune. “Run and fetch my bag, would you, sugar?”

She ran as fast as her feet would take her. Linnea treasured these private moments with Lovie. She just knew a lesson was coming.

Lovie rummaged through her canvas bag and pulled out a large shell, as big as her hand. The rounded shell was symmetrical and unbroken. A real treasure.

“This is a cockleshell,” Lovie told her. “And it makes the very best tool for digging a nest.” Lovie bent over and scooped out a shell full of sand. She continued this, one scoop after another, several inches down.