Calliope stood where she was, patiently waiting for Kendall to finish or take a break, the basket clutched in both her hands. She wasn’t in any rush and, as she took a deep breath and let it out, she realized Kendall wasn’t the only one in need of solace.
Her thoughts had been spinning from the moment Xander Costas stepped foot in Butterfly Harbor. Images of him flitted through her brain at the most inopportune times, both irritating her and bringing her an odd sense of calm. She’d long ago surrendered herself to whatever fate decided, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Xander Costas was not for her even as her own heart craved more moments with him. Quiet moments. Humorous moments. Any moments.
Because being with him was when she felt most alive.
The sander went quiet. Kendall reached over for a tack cloth, freezing momentarily as she caught sight of Calliope. Her dark brown gaze dropped to the basket before focusing on its owner. “Is that for me?”
“If you’d like.” Again, Calliope didn’t know a lot about Kendall, but she suspected the woman didn’t take charity. “I overdid it on my baking yesterday and thought perhaps you might like some provisions.”
Kendall’s lips twitched in a way that made Calliope feel as if she’d won a major prize. “You make it sound like I’ve walled myself off from the world. Or that I’m off on an excursion.”
Calliope glanced around the restoration project Kendall had taken on for nothing more than the cost of supplies and a place to sleep. “There are all types of excursions. I can leave it inside if you’d like, if you’d rather not stop what you’re doing.”
Kendall looked at her for a long, silent moment. “I can take a break,” she said finally. “Did Stella come with you?” She glanced behind Calliope with an odd, ghostly expression in her eyes.
“No, she’s still in school.” Which was one reason Calliope had chosen now to visit. She’d seen Kendall around children off and on these last weeks, and it was clear they made her very uncomfortable. And sad. “I can’t wait to tell her what you’ve done with the place.”
“Just got started.” Kendall grabbed a damp towel, cleaned her hands and brushed off her shirt, then she took the lead and led Calliope into the keeper house on the other side of the tower. “Haven’t had much time to do anything yet.”
“Oh, but you have.” Calliope followed her through the worn, weathered, sagging door and set the basket on the small square table, the only piece of furniture in the entire cottage save for two rickety high-back chairs. A sleeping bag was arranged in the far corner, by the fireplace. A solitary duffel bag sat nearby, along with a second pair of work boots, a collection of paperback books and a pillow.
The galley kitchen, even less spacious than the one in Xander’s guest cottage, housed a small icebox, a two-burner stove and a sink in desperate need of replacing. Calliope walked over and peered into the bathroom that housed only the necessities, including, to her surprise, a lovely old-fashioned claw-foot tub. The bathroom and the kitchen were sparkling clean.
“Tell me you use that.” She pointed to the tub.
“Every day.” Another smile flickered. “I’m sorry. I’m not really set up for company. Can I...?” She peered into the basket.
“Of course.” Calliope could smell warped wood and the sea, as if it had seeped into every crevice of the building. Three small square windows overlooked the cliffs and ocean, and were smeared and obscured by years of neglect, salt water and sunshine.
“I’m not much of a cook, so this is great.” She pulled out the mason jar filled with homemade granola, a paper bag containing half a dozen blueberry scones and a selection of fresh carrots, broccoli and radishes. “Thank you.”
“I would imagine you often get lost in your work.” Calliope ran her hand over the beautifully restored stone hearth and fireplace. “I’ve been known to forget to eat on occasion. Especially when I’m tending to my garden.”
“You do have a magic touch from what I hear.” Kendall pulled out a carrot, drew her hands down the stem and bit in. The snap echoed in the room. “A carrot that tastes like a carrot. Who knew.” She toasted Calliope as she would with a drink. “I’m afraid there’s not much to see yet. I’m still figuring out what all needs doing and how long it’s going to take.”