Beach Brides Series

by

Shanna Hatfield

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Rose’s message in a bottle…

 

To the Man of My Dreams,

A crazy dare from my even crazier friends is the reason you hold this note in your hands. Under normal circumstances, I would not engage in something as undeniably foolish and utterly ridiculous as writing a letter to a man I will likely never meet. In truth, I am not convinced the man of my dreams exists.

You see, I once gave away my heart — my whole heart. The boy I gave it to (for one such as he most surely cannot be referred to as a man) tossed it aside one stormy winter day much as one might discard an empty latte cup from Starbucks. After thoughtful speculation, I concluded he was incapable of offering or accepting real love. He owns no respect for love or what it encompasses, what it means.

Love is one of the deepest, most essential human needs — like crisp, clean air to breathe, or cool, refreshing water to drink, or even a piece of rich, decadent chocolate. (Chocolate is a need and if you do not recognize it as such, you may as well tuck this letter back inside the bottle and forget you ever found it.)

In all seriousness, though, every human heart longs to love and be loved.

However, I am far past the desire for a run-of-the-mill sort of love. No, not just any old romance will do. What I seek, what I will wait a lifetime for, is the kind of love that will forever alter my life in a most miraculous, wondrous way. I want the love of a good man to add vibrancy to the colors in my world. His love should be a song my heart eagerly sings. Being with him should be the greatest and best adventure I ever experience. I want a man who perceives the depths of my soul, cherishes my heart, and takes delight in my smile.

I have no use for a man (or boy, because some men remain boys no matter what age they are) who lacks the key traits of loyalty, honesty, and kindness. For that matter, I also have no use for one who possesses a deep-seated fear of the very notion of love.

Therefore, Mister Dream Man, I care not a whit about how much money is in your bank account, what you look like, or the type of vehicle you drive. Your favorite sports teams (go Seahawks), your fashion sense (or lack thereof), and the ability to do such heinous things as burp the letters of the alphabet are of no consequence to me (although that last one is rather revolting. Please tell me you do not do that — at least not with any frequency).

My interest rests in the contents of your heart.

I want to know if you are kind to old women who hold up the line at the grocery store. Do children and dogs like you? Do you have a favorite charity?

By chance, if we do someday meet, I shall do my best never to measure you by anything except your capacity to love with abandon. And maybe your laughter. Laugh lines etched like glorious grooves of joy around your eyes would be an unmistakable sign that you are more than a mere acquaintance with happiness.

I suppose if I expect you to reach out to me upon finding this preposterous missive, you should know something about me beyond the fact I’ve tried falling in love and the experiment failed quite spectacularly.

The world I live in is not complex. Rather, my life is simplistic for the most part. My days are often divine, filled with sweet moments and dear friends. Assuredly, they (the days and my friends) are never, ever dull. I have never had to work at a job (at least by the definition most people attribute to that particular word) as an adult because that which I turn my hand to is something that brings me a heaping abundance of bliss.

After reading this, if you think you may hold an interest in meeting an old-fashioned girl with her share of quirks, one who enjoys sunsets, chocolate (obviously), and treasures from gentler days, please email me at [email protected]

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

“No, Mom! No way, no how!” Tanner Thomas glowered at his mother from across the dinner table. He plunked down the knife and fork in his hands and counted to ten, attempting to curtail his inclination to lose patience with his meddling parent. Over the years, she’d come up with any number of ridiculous schemes to set him up on dates, but she’d reached an all new level of absurdity if she thought he’d follow her latest suggestion. “It’s never, ever, going to happen, Mom.”

“But, Tanner, she sounds like a perfectly marvelous girl,” Meri Thomas said. Hope glimmered in eyes the same warm shade of blue as Tanner’s. She lifted a glass bottle from where she’d placed it beside his dinner plate and tipped out a piece of rolled parchment, the kind one might have used to write letters a few hundred years ago. “I have a feeling this girl is the one, honey. You have to get in touch with her.”

Tanner shook his head, refusing to take the letter she held out to him. “I don’t care who she is, where she’s from, or anything about her. I’m not emailing a total stranger because you think she might be the one.” He used his index and middle fingers to make air quotations. “The one, Mom? Come on. You said the same thing about the lunatic who worked with your friend’s niece at the coffee shop. I thought I was going to have to take out a restraining order to get her to leave me alone.”

Meri’s smile faded. “That was unfortunate. Who knew she’d go all stalker on you?”

“You should have. Did you ever stop to consider why the girl was so eager to go out with someone? Women like that ought to come with a warning label tattooed on their forehead. Something like ‘High maintenance psycho with a serious boundary impediment. Speak to me at your own risk,’ would be a good thing.”

Dave Thomas chuckled and thumped his son on the shoulder before turning to his wife. “Tanner’s right, love. You have set the boy up with some doozies in the past.”

Meri huffed. “I’ll admit there have been a few… foibles along the way, but I know this girl is different.”

“How could you possibly know anything about her, Mom? She’s some freak who stuffed a love letter in a bottle. I bet she is a homely, desperate, messed up chick. One who’d marry the first guy who smiled at her.”

His mother’s scowl made him shift uncomfortably on his chair. With a beleaguered sigh, he leaned back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Tell me again how you found the bottle and why you think this girl is special.”

Meri’s giddy smile returned as she tapped the rolled parchment with her finger. “Your father and I were walking on the beach at Lover’s Key State Park.” She reached over to her husband of thirty-five years and squeezed his hand. “Such an appropriate name, don’t you think?”

“Of course, love.” Dave kissed her cheek. “But please get on with the story before Tanner implodes or combusts. The boy is barely hanging on.”

Meri nodded. “Honestly, Tanner, you should come with us the next time we go to Florida. It is so peaceful and restorative at the beach house. It’s been years since you’ve gone with us. There is plenty of room, as you well know. You could invite some of your friends and...”

“I’ll give it consideration, Mom.” Tanner cut her off before she launched into all the reasons he needed to take a vacation. “You know I’m busy with work.”

“I am aware of that.” Meri beamed at him with pride. “We’re both so proud of you, son, even if you do refuse to take a penny of our money and insist on making your own way. Most young men would take full advantage of a similar situation to live a life of luxury, not work as a manual laborer as you do.”

Tanner swallowed down an annoyed retort. “Mom, it’s not exactly manual labor. Besides, you know working at the park is what I’ve always wanted to do. I get to be outside, apply my love of history, and it’s awesome to see kids excited about learning.”

Right out of college, Tanner landed a job working at a national park about an hour from Denver where he’d grown up and his parents still lived. In the four years he’d been at the park, he’d worked up to the position of assistant director. Every day was a new adventure and Tanner never tired of it. Although his grandfather had started a lucrative oil and mining corporation, Tanner wasn’t interested in the business or lazing his life away. He wanted to make his own way and prove he could contribute something to the world without relying on the millions in his family’s personal coffers.

“It’s wonderful how much you love your job, honey. You are much like your father that way, determined to succeed on your own.” Meri glanced to Dave again. The two of them met in college and wed a week after they graduated. Dave earned a degree in surveying and eventually opened his own business despite Meri’s father trying to convince him to work for the corporation. For thirty years, Dave ran a successful enterprise. When Meri’s father passed away and left her the corporation, Dave sold his business to help her with the company. Twice a year, they snuck away from the demands of Dumond Minerals for a few weeks to a vacation home in Florida.

Tanner hoped his parents would sell the business or retire. Neither of them enjoyed working at the corporation and lacked the passion his grandfather possessed in building his empire from nothing.

He certainly had no plans to join the family business or do anything beyond his current line of work. He didn’t care if he made two dollars an hour or two hundred. It wasn’t about the money. It was about the satisfaction he got out of his work, connecting with people, and helping them better understand history.

At twenty-six, he had his whole future ahead of him. He wasn’t in a rush to settle down. Despite his mother’s best efforts to marry him off, he’d drag his feet as long as possible.

“Back to the bottle, Mom. Where did you find it?” Tanner took a drink from a glass of iced tea and waited for his mother to finish the story.

“Your father and I were strolling along the beach. The sun was just starting to set and the sky burst with the brightest, most beautiful colors.” Meri ran a gentle hand over the bottle. “A wave washed over our feet and I glanced down. Right there in front of us was this bottle.”

“I haven’t seen your mother that excited for a long while.” Dave looked at Tanner and shook his head. “She acted like some long lost pirate booty had washed up at our feet.”

“It was exciting,” Meri said, holding the letter out to Tanner again. “When I opened the bottle and removed this letter, I just knew.”

“Knew what?” Tanner asked, taking the parchment from his mother and gingerly holding the top and bottom edges to keep the letter from rolling back up.

“That this girl is the one for you.” Meri clasped both hands over her heart and released a dramatic breath. “Oh, Tanner. Her letter is charming. If it didn’t have the date neatly printed up in the corner, I would have thought a girl from eons ago might have written it. From what I gather, this young lady has a very old soul along with a captivating way of expressing her thoughts. I’d be willing to bet she’s just absolutely lovely.”

“Lovely,” Tanner grumbled as he scanned the letter. He’d expected it to read like a singles ad or something along those lines. If it had said something like “hot babe searching for her soul mate,” it would have been simple to ignore.

However, it was nothing like he expected. His mother was right. The girl, or woman, who wrote the letter belonged in a bygone era.

“Who talks like this? Writes like this?” he asked, reading the note again. A smile quirked the corners of his mouth as he envisioned some cavedweller crudely burping the alphabet while a woman turned up her nose in disgust.

“She made you smile,” Meri said in a singsong voice, then waggled her index finger at him. “Admit it. You’re intrigued.”

Tanner refused to admit anything, especially not to his bossy, nosy, well-meaning mother. With an indifferent shrug, he rolled the letter and slid it back inside the bottle. “Still not interested, Mom. She could be a serial killer. A con artist. This could even be a guy, you know.”

At Meri’s horrified look, both he and Dave laughed.

When his mother’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout, he relented. “If you’ll stop all this nonsense about trying to set me up with someone, I’ll take the bottle home and think about emailing her.”

Meri squealed and clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful, Tanner. When you hear back from her, you have to…”

He held up a hand, cutting her off. “I said I’ll think about emailing her. Don’t push it, Mom. Just let it go and leave it be.”

 

 

***End of Excerpt***

 

Rose

Beach Brides Series

by

Shanna Hatfield