A Father's Pledge. Eleanor Jones
to bribe me.”
The giggling stopped as quickly as it had started when the children saw Kat. “Wasn’t me, Miss,” Dennis quickly announced.
“He told me he would only look out for Ben if I gave him a fiver,” Luke said.
Kat frowned. “Is that true, Dennis?”
“Ben’s weird,” Dennis responded. “So why would I want to look out for him, anyway?”
Kat pulled out a chair and sat down. “You know why, Dennis. We all look out for each other at Flight. A lot of the kids here have had troubles, including you. You were very unhappy when you first came to Flight, remember? Didn’t people help you?”
Dennis stared at the table and shrugged. “I guess.”
“So hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe Ben is unhappy and homesick, too?”
“Dunno,” he muttered.
“Well, did people help you when you needed it?”
“Might of.”
“There you go, then,” Kat said, smiling. “So you’ll help Ben?”
“I guess.”
“Thanks, Dennis. That’s really kind of you. Isn’t it, Mr. Luke?”
Put on the spot, Luke nodded. “Yes, thank you, Dennis. I guess you were only joking about the fiver?”
Dennis pulled a face. “I guess so. Come on, you two. Let’s go.”
As the three children raced off, Kat laughed out loud. “Bribed by a nine-year-old!”
Suddenly Luke was laughing, too. “Want a sandwich?” he asked, handing her the plate.
“Don’t mind if I do,” she said.
They ate in silence for a minute or two. “You’re good with kids,” Luke said eventually.
“It’s my job,” Kat reminded him. “Surely you must understand children, too, though, having worked here for ages.”
Luke shook his head slowly. “Not really. My job description covers everything from mending fences to placing orders for school supplies, but I haven’t had much contact with the kids. That’s more yours and Mike’s department...and Gwen’s, of course.”
“I’m sorry for insinuating that you don’t love Ben,” Kat said abruptly. “I crossed a line.”
“And I apologize for slamming the door in your face,” Luke offered.
Kat held his gaze. “We’re never going to agree, you know.”
Luke nodded. “At least not when it comes to your therapy courses.” He pushed the plate toward her. “Have another sandwich.”
Kat picked up an egg salad sandwich and nibbled at the edges. “You wait until I start with the animal therapy,” she said.
Luke stood, scraping back his chair. “We’ll have to agree to disagree about that. Anyway, I should get going.”
“Before we have another falling-out?” Kat asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Something like that,” he said with the hint of a smile.
* * *
KAT WAS STILL thinking about her conversation with Luke twenty minutes later as she walked along the cliff-top path to the village. Flight was set up high, way beyond the risk of high tides. Kat looked out across the bay, which sparkled in the evening sun. The sea shone with crimson light, and a few late gulls were circling, screaming out their lonesome cries before settling down for the night. It was heartrendingly beautiful here, she thought with a sudden rush of emotion, feeling happy about her decision to take this job, despite her problems with Luke.
Perhaps his reaction earlier—and his attitude toward the sea therapy—boiled down to fear. Maybe Luke was just scared—scared of the responsibility that had been thrust upon him.
Kat was good at understanding what made people tick and why, and not just the children in therapy with her, either. In her view, most adults were still affected by their childhoods and how they were raised. She’d seen it again and again in the foster homes she’d lived in as a teen, observing the ways people reacted and dealt with things. Her own childhood had taught her a lot about life, once she’d come to understand it, or at least tried to. Luke was angry because he was out of his depth with his son, but he should be letting her help Ben, not going against her.
As she followed the path down toward the shore, she considered her plans for the animal therapy. At her last placement, she’d virtually run the unit. The kids helped care for the animals while learning to understand their behavior and needs. The way the animals depended on them gave the kids a sense of responsibility, and the animals’ resilience and trust often gave them a whole new perspective on life. She hoped to start something similar—with fresh ideas, of course—here at Flight. Getting past the red tape was the biggest obstacle, especially when narrow-minded people like Luke Travis were raising objections at every turn.
A row of cottages stood next to the shore and were set on a limestone outcropping just above the high-tide line along a narrow track named Cove Road. She’d noticed the cottages before, but tonight in the half-light their brightly lit windows drew her toward them. Terraced and small, they were each two stories with neat front doors and welcoming windows. What a wonderful place to live, Kat thought: to wake up beside the sea each morning, staring out at the glorious, restless and ever-changing view.
The first of the three appeared to be occupied. Clothing flapped on a line at the back, a child’s bike lay discarded on the front walk and a light shone from somewhere inside. The second cottage was dark; it appeared closed and empty and kind of sad, its exterior pebble-dashed and a dull, weathered gray. The one at the very end, however, was painted a bright, fresh shade of white. It looked loved, she thought. A sign in the front window caught her eye and she went closer to read it. It was handwritten with For Rent in bold print.
Excitement prickled as an idea took root and grew. The cottage was close to Flight. It was by the sea. It was perfect.
Unable to wait, Kat dialed the number on the sign. The call went to voice mail. “Hi, it’s Elsa. Sorry I’m not here right now...”
The voice was clear and warm with a slightly melodic accent, but Kat’s heart sank. What if the cottage had already been rented? Pushing her phone back into her pocket, Kat walked cautiously along the pathway to the bright red front door and tried the number again.
She decided to leave a message. “Um... I was just inquiring about the cottage for rent in Jenny Brown’s Bay...” Kat left her contact information then clicked End.
Certain that there was no one inside, she walked around the side of the cottage and peered over a door in the fence that led into a small backyard. Everything looked spick-and-span, obviously recently redone. She had to have this cottage; she just had to.
Night was settling in as she headed back toward Flight, wondering how long it would take this Elsa person to reply to her call. The wind rose in her ears, whipping through the crooked bushes that lined the path, and she gazed out across the bay, remembering.
Sandston, the place where she’d spent her early childhood and the place where her mother’s sad life had ended, was not unlike Jenny Brown’s Bay. It felt right to be here.
Suddenly, her phone began to ring and she dug it from her pocket.
“Hi, you were asking about Number Three Cove Cottages.”
“Oh, y-yes...” She felt stupid, childish, stuttering. This meant so much to her. “Is it still available?”
“It might be. I did have someone interested, but they weren’t one-hundred-percent sure.”
“I’m a hundred-percent sure. Please. It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Well,