Surrender to Love
Surrender to Love
Book One
The Breakers Island Series
Raine English
Surrender to Love
Book One
The Breakers Island Series
Published by Elusive Dreams Press
Digital Edition
Copyright © 2015 Raine English
ISBN: 978-1-62935-012-7
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or any portion thereof, in any form. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient, unless this book is a participant in a qualified lending program. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are fictitious and figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
USA Today Bestselling Author
Kindle Top 100 Bestselling Author
Daphne du Maurier Award Winner
RWA Golden Heart Finalist
“The characters and their relationships developed quickly. There was never a dull moment! I will definitely be reading more of Raine’s books.”
~Sue Peace of Peaces of Me Book Reviews on
Tin Angel
“The entourage of fascinating characters kept you guessing about their true demeanors right up through the end with a crescendo of suspense all the way through. A great read that I highly recommend.”
~NetGalley Reviewer on
Mistress of Raghery
Surrender to Love
A tempestuous island holds a mystery that can destroy…
When Tara Spencer agrees to spend the summer caring for her ailing grandmother, she has no idea how her life will be changed by the handsome stranger next door. Will she have a second chance at love, or will his secrets put her life in jeopardy?
Tara Spencer took a few more steps toward the three-story Federal-style mansion, stopping at the base of the wooden steps that would take her to the entry porch. She clenched her suitcase handle as she glanced back at the old Subaru parked in the driveway and for a split second contemplated getting back into it and driving away. However tempting that thought might be, there were a number of reasons why she couldn’t do that. First and foremost, she was dying of thirst. A trip from New Hampshire to Massachusetts might not seem like a big deal, but it was the thirty-five miles from Boston to Plymouth County, and then that narrow unpaved road—the only road—that connected Breakers Island to the mainland that did her in. Driving anywhere without air-conditioning in the middle of July was no fun, but this ride had been horrible and one she didn’t want to take again any time soon.
Besides, she’d promised her grandmother she’d spend the summer with her. Not that she owed the old woman anything. She didn’t even know her, having been four years old when her family moved away. But Tara always kept her word, and maybe developing some kind of relationship with her might help mend the rift between her parents and Emily Spencer. Especially now that Addison was gone. After all, it had been her grandfather who’d cut off his only son when Tara’s dad took a job in Concord.
She brushed a strand of sweat-moistened hair out of her eyes, then gingerly placed one foot on the bottom step, wondering if her full weight would cause the board to break. Not that she was heavy by any means. But this place needed more than tender loving care. It needed a major overhaul. And not only were the stairs in need of repair, but the grass was overgrown and weeds had so overtaken the brick walkway that if you didn’t watch each step, you could take a nasty fall. Many of them had crumbled or been raised by roots. And those weren’t the only problems. There were places where the clapboard siding on the house was so weathered, it had rotted away and there were numerous birds’ nests in the eaves of the second-story porch and hipped roof. She just hoped the interior didn’t match the exterior, but by the looks of the broken louvered shutters covering the windows, she rather doubted it. Sunlight probably hadn’t entered the place in years.
As she set her other foot on the step, she heard a pop and froze, thinking she was about to fall through. Thankfully, though, the board remained intact. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing that would have made such a noise. However, to her right was the Douglas mansion, almost identical in size, shape, and style. The two lots were long and narrow and the houses close together. Standing not twenty feet away, leaning up against one of the pillars gracing the entry porch, was a guy drinking a beer. So that was what she’d heard—the opening of the can.
She guessed him to be in his mid-twenties. He had on tight jeans and a white tee that barely covered his well-muscled biceps. He wore his sandy blond hair longer on top and obviously gelled to give it that messy look. Add at least a week’s worth of stubble to a well-chiseled face and a pierced ear, and she had no doubt she was looking at the island bad boy. The type of guy she’d sworn to stay away from. She’d learned her lesson with Jason, and it was because of their disastrous relationship and messy breakup that she decided to take her grandmother up on her offer.
Her gaze met his. He took another sip of beer, then held the can out, offering her a drink. Like she would share a beer with a stranger. No, thanks. Besides, she didn’t even like the stuff. When she shook her head, he just shrugged as if it was her loss and then guzzled the rest of the can. Before he went inside, she caught sight of the label—Spencer Douglas Wheat Ale.
Frank Douglas and Addison Spencer had grown up together and started the Spencer Douglas Brewery in 1945. It had been an immediate success. Their handcrafted private-label beer paved the way for a full line of premium beers, eventually leading their brewery to become one of the largest in the region and amassing the two men a fortune. It also was the reason her dad and grandfather had become estranged.
She wondered who that hot guy was. Probably a maintenance worker. The Douglas property was meticulously kept, unlike her grandmother’s. She climbed the rest of the steps and then used the large brass knocker on the front door to make her arrival known. It took a minute for the door to open, and when it did, she was surprised by the appearance of the frail woman standing before her.
“Grandmother?” Although Tara didn’t have much of a memory of her, from pictures and stories she’d been told, Emily Spencer had been a strong woman, both physically and mentally. A far cry from this wizened white-haired woman with a cane.
“Little Tara. I can’t believe you’re all grown up.”
“It’s been almost twenty years.”
“Yes, it has, and far too long.” She stepped aside. “You don’t have to stand out there. Come on in.” She tapped her cane on the hardwood floor as she walked, leading Tara into what years ago would have been called the parlor. “Have a seat, my dear. What can I get for you?”
“Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be caring for you?” Tara smiled warmly and set her suitcase down on the floor.
“And you shall, but at least for today, let me do for you.”
“I’d love a glass of water,” Tara replied.
“Of course. It’s quite hot and humid, isn’t it?”
“And especially uncomfortable when your car doesn’t have air-conditioning.”
Her grandmother made a face. “Oh, that sounds quite dreadful. I can’t tolerate the heat. Haven’t been able to for quite some time. I made Addison install central air years ago. Make yourself at home, my dear. I’ll be right back with your water.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.” After she left the room, Tara sat on the sofa and took in her surroundings. There were lots of antiques scattered around, a lovely Queen Anne-style desk, and an Oriental carpet that had to be worth a bunch. Despite needed updating—new draperies would be nice—and a good coat of paint, the house, at least what she’d seen of it so far, wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.
A few minutes later, her grandmother returned, carrying a glass of water. She handed it to Tara, then sat beside her on the sofa.
“I’m so glad you agreed to spend the summer with me. I’ve missed you all so much. It’s such a shame what happened between Addison and your dad. But my husband could be a very stubborn man, and, unfortunately, Grant inherited that nasty trait. But now that you’re here, and once you discover the island isn’t such a bad place, maybe you can convince your parents to come visit sometime.” There was a hopeful twinkle in her grandmother’s faded eyes.
Tara quenched her thirst with a long drink. “That would be nice. I’ll certainly try my best.” Although, her grandmother was absolutely right about her father being stubborn. Once he made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. However, without Addison there, Tara might be able—with a lot of convincing—to get him to agree to see his mother. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to make it to the funeral. I had finals, and Dad, well…”
Her grandmother patted her leg. “I didn’t expect Grant to come, and I’m just glad that you’re here now. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. Still got that gorgeous blonde hair and those big blue eyes. You must have all the single men in Concord fighting over you.”
If only that had been the case, but she’d been in a long-term relationship with Jason. Five years, to be exact. And she’d believed him when he said he loved her, so she’d been more than distraught when she discovered he was cheating on her with one of her best friends. Just thinking about how naïve she’d been made her blood boil. Why hadn’t she seen the warning signs?
They’d been there. People had even told her that Grace and Jason were fooling around. But she chose not to believe it, until she saw them with her own eyes. Thank goodness her grandmother had called when she did. Lord knows what she would have done if she’d had to spend another day in New Hampshire. Breakers Island was right where she needed to be. Away from all the whispers and sad looks cast her way. She didn’t need anyone’s pity, that was for sure. What she needed was a peaceful, quiet summer at the beach to get over the creep who’d broken her heart.
Tara had been so engrossed with her thoughts that she didn’t even noticed her grandmother get up and walk across the room. It wasn’t until she dropped her cane, trying to open a cabinet drawer, that Tara was brought back to the present. She jumped up to help, but her grandmother quickly retrieved the cane and rested its handle against a square-backed chair.
Emily took out a photo album and then came back over to sit beside her. She began to flip through its pages, stopping about halfway through. “I thought you might like to see this. It was the last picture taken of all of us together.”
Tara gazed at the photo with interest. Her parents hadn’t kept any pictures of them as a family. “May I look at the rest as well?”
“Of course.”
She set the album on Tara’s lap, and Tara took her time going through it. Most of the photos were of her grandparents and of her dad growing up, and of course lots of baby pictures of her. At the end of the album, there was one of Addison and Frank and some man she didn’t recognize. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to the heavyset bearded man.
“That’s Frank’s son, Boyd. He lives next door. Frank and Nel retired to Florida a couple months before Addison’s death. Boyd runs the brewery now. Unlike your dad, who wanted nothing to do with it, Boyd couldn’t wait for it to be his someday. At least half of it. None of us ever really thought Grant would simply up and walk away from his inheritance. But he did. And now Boyd is running the whole show.”