Dare to Dream. Donna Hill
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coming through right now. Thank you again. Have a great day.”
Rachel hung up and hurried across the room of her home office to the fax machine. Each of the pages highlighted the attributes of this little-known treasure on Sag Harbor. Even though the picture of the resort was a bit grainy, she could tell that it would be perfect for Desi. It offered all the amenities and provided the privacy that she needed while still giving her easy access to the rest of the affluent African-American community.
Before the last page was spewed out, Rachel was on the phone.
“Hello, please tell me that you have rooms available,” she said, a bit breathless.
The deep voice chuckled. “Actually you’re in luck.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I’d like to make reservations—for the rest of the summer if that’s possible.”
“The rest of the summer works for us,” he said. “We’ll be happy to accommodate you.”
“Actually it’s not for me. It’s for a friend. She really needs to get away, rest, and…well, she needs to get away. But I’ll be taking care of all the bills.”
“Not a problem. Let me put the guest clerk on the phone and she will take care of all the particulars.”
“Oh…but can’t you take the information? I’ve been on the phone for hours. I swear if I talk to one more person today I might snap.”
“It can’t be that bad,” he said, keeping his voice light. The last thing he needed was an unhappy customer before she even arrived. As one of the newest establishments on the shore, he was conscious of building a solid reputation for customer service. “Trust me, the clerk will help you. I only own the place. I leave the running of The Port to the staff. It’s important. I’m sure you can understand that. So please hang on and we’ll get you all set up in no time at all.”
Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed as she listened to the recorded music of Nancy Wilson. At least it’s not Musak, she thought.
“Hi. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Terri. Tell me what you need and we’ll make it happen.”
Rachel gave Terri all the information and insisted that Desiree be given as much privacy as possible.
“We always respect all of our guests’ privacy, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Great. Put all the charges on my credit card. She’s not to be bothered with anything.”
“Understood.” Terri took down all the credit information. “All done. We’ll be expecting Ms. Armstrong on Sunday. And don’t worry about check-in times, her room will be ready whenever she arrives.”
Rachel exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”
“Not a problem. Have a great day.” Terri hung up the phone and started to file away the reservation card.
“So who is our mystery guest this weekend, Terri?”
Terri turned in the direction of her boss’s voice. “A Desiree Armstrong.” She handed the reservation card to him.
It took a moment for the name and the reality to register, and when it did his breath stopped in his chest.
Lincoln blindly handed the card back to her.
“Are you all right, Mr. Davenport?”
“Uh, yes. I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “See to it that Ms. Armstrong has whatever she needs.” He turned and walked away.
Lincoln stepped outside and stood on the porch of the main house, gazing out toward the sun that was slowly descending over the still waters. Orange and gold sunbeams streamed out across the slight ripples like pathways leading to eternity. For an instant, Lincoln wished he could simply put one foot in front of the other, step onto the guiding beams of light and walk off into the horizon. It seemed possible, almost preferable to having to confront the unimaginable.
Desiree. Even now, five years later, the mere thought of her made his heart race and desire heat his blood. Was this some cruel joke, some twist of fate that was bringing her here of all places? In three days he would know. But what then? What could they possibly say to each other to make what had gone so wrong right again?
Chapter 5
“I don’t know how to thank you, Rae.”
“You can thank me by relaxing and getting your head and spirit clear,” Rachel said as she sped along Route 79 en route to Sag Harbor.
Desiree sat back against the plush beige leather of the Volvo and took in the sights as they unfolded along the highway.
Everything was in bloom, alive. Had this been any other time in her life she’d be reaching for her sketchbook and pencils to begin detailing all that her eyes could see or imagine. But this wasn’t any of those other times. As much as she’d tried to put on a good face for Rachel and Cynthia, the truth was—she’d lost it. She’d lost her desire to paint. The inspiration that drove her to sit long, agonizing hours to bring her vision to the canvas or to a piece of clay was gone. And that realization saddened her as only one other thing ever had.
She hoped that this time away would somehow revive her passion, or at the very least give her a reason to pick up the fragments of her life.
Each time she closed her eyes she had nightmares, terrifying visions of that night, and she’d wake up shaking and soaking wet. She was afraid to be alone and ashamed to be around anyone. Now instead of the scents of turpentine and paint revitalizing her as they once did, they only evoked twisted memories, making her stomach revolt.
Everyone thought of her as “so together,” strong, resilient, able to handle anything. But she was none of those things. Maybe at one time, but now she felt as if she were only a shell of the woman she once was. Would she ever be all right again? Ever? Would the constant fear that hung in the center of her chest ever go away?
Inadvertently a shuddering sigh rushed up from her chest and escaped across her lips.
“Desi? Are you okay?” Rachel quickly glanced in her mirrors, then eased the car onto the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Rae, I…feel so lost, like I’m drifting. I have nightmares every night. I can’t paint, I can’t think…” She covered her mouth with her hand.
“Desi.” She clasped her left shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. You just need some time. You’ve been through a trying ordeal. Anyone who’d been in your place would feel the same way.”
Desiree sniffed hard and reached in the glove compartment for a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes. “I know. I keep telling myself that,” she said and wiped her nose. “Some days it helps and other days it doesn’t.”
“Are you sure you want to go to the shore? You know you can stay with me. Maybe it’s too early for you to be alone.”
“I’ll be okay. I have to be. I know I can’t keep living like this every day.” She turned and looked at Rachel. “I just can’t, Rae.” She tugged in a deep breath and forced herself to smile. “I didn’t let you come all this way for nothing. Let’s go.”
* * *
Lincoln strolled across the grounds behind his property, gravel and sand crunching beneath his sneakered feet, and walked toward the water. From his vantage on the hill, he could see for miles across the cloudless sky. The water was a soothing blue and moved in gentle ripples along the shoreline, seeming to meet the deeper blue of the heavens in a seamless line along the horizon. In the distance the white sails of the private boats could be seen flapping in the late summer breeze.
When he’d stumbled across the abandoned site four years earlier, he immediately saw its potential.
The eight cabins were nestled among manicured