Authors: Vickie McKeehan

Lavender Beach (47 page)

BOOK: Lavender Beach

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Epilogue

Four months later

North of Pelican Pointe

E
astlyn sat at the controls of the upgraded, renovated Bell copter and checked the brand-new vertical instrumentation panel. She glanced out the window onto the tarmac of the helipad Thane and Logan had built north of town. Even though nightfall loomed, it would be a clear November night for flying.

Since the aircraft would make plenty of flights over water, it carried flotation gear, in addition to medical kits, and survival equipment for search and rescue operations. If necessary two litters could also be installed for transporting injured passengers to a hospital.

“Sioux one-niner to Sky Park requesting takeoff,” Eastlyn said into her headset as she waited for ground clearance.

“Sioux one-niner cleared for takeoff via direct to Smuggler’s Bay. Climb and maintain four thousand feet.”

“Roger that. Sioux one-niner straight out departure for mini run to Smuggler’s Bay,” Eastlyn repeated. She revved the engine, lifted off. As the polished blue and white bird climbed into the sky, she yelled out, “This is for you, Pop, wherever you are!”

“This is so cool,” Cooper hollered over the blade noise. He watched her in the pilot’s seat, saw the absolute joy on her face as she took a southern route along the coast. “You’re absolutely knock-out beautiful right now.”

“You need glasses,” she said with a grin.

“I got a text from Drea before we took off. She says half the town is lined up back at the pier waiting for you to give them a ride.”

“We should do that for a fundraiser, you know, down the road. I could take them up and out over the water. The bubble canopy makes a perfect observation deck.” To prove her point, she glanced up at the night sky. “Look at that view. With you sitting next to me it seems like we’re dancing with the moon right now.”

Cooper stared at the huge illuminated sphere, so close it looked as though he could reach out and hold it in his hand. “What a perfect shot.”

He grabbed his camera case so he could capture the moment with his Nikon, pulled out his telephoto lens, attached it to the front, and aimed. But when he looked through the viewfinder, he saw words instead of the waxing image he expected to see. He tried again. Same words. This time he took the bottom of his shirttail and attempted to wipe off any smudges on the lens to get a clearer shot.

“What gives?” Cooper said to Eastlyn.

“With what?”

“I mean, each time I try to focus, I keep seeing these same words through my viewfinder.”

“What words? Don’t tell me you’re cracking up after everything we’ve been through.”

He held the camera up to take a photo of her at the controls. Again, the same message appeared in the shot.

“Maybe I am cracking up,” he finally admitted.

“What are you talking about? You’re starting to get a weird look on your face.”

“Each time I try to take the picture I see the same phrase through my viewfinder.”

“What’s the phrase?”

“You’ll think it’s corny.”

“Maybe not.”

Cooper repeated what he saw. “‘You’ve captured a true warrior’s heart, treat it with kindness.’”

“That’s the phrase. That’s downright romantic.” She weaved to the left and saw the lighthouse come into view. “We’re almost over the bay. Drea’s right, look at the crowd below.”

A throng of people stood on the dock, their arms waving in the air. There was so much enthusiasm she felt as though she’d landed in the middle of a hero’s welcome.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Cooper looked at her and grinned. “I think this is Scott’s way of telling us that we’ve both finally made it home.”