Introduction

Callie Duflay just isn't like the rest of her family. While they've built white collar lives, she prefers getting her hands dirty by working with children and local California causes. When Callie learns that a beloved piece of untouched property in her town of Otter Bay may soon be developed, she confronts the architect assigned to the project.Gage Mitchell may be an easygoing, eco-friendly professional, but he's not about to back off this job no matter how cute Callie or her pet pooch, Moondoggy, may be. His reasons and hers are noble—both have a heart for protecting God's creation, and the truth is these two would be perfect for each other outside of this face-off. But will they ever figure that out?

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Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

The rope in my hand resembled a noose. “Sorry, pal, but it was all I could find.” The stray doggy with the dewdrop eyes found me as I jogged along the shores of Otter Bay. Now with a makeshift leash wrapped around his skinny neck, our trot through the woods on the way to my sister’s house was my half-hearted attempt to find his owner.

Hopefully, they’re long gone, because until this pup’s arrival, I hadn’t realized just how hollow my house with its reclaimed wood flooring and single occupant had begun to sound.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. By my age and my mother’s calculations I should be quite comfortable by now as a wife and mother and keeper of the house surrounded by gleaming white picket posts. “Men aren’t attracted to Tom-boys, Callie” my mother always said, clutching her heart and peering into the sky. She’d always been dramatic like that. Probably a left-over from her days in musical-theater, an aspiration she eventually gave up for raising children.

If only I understood the rewards of marriage and motherhood. We had this conversation every year.

At thirty years old, though, I understood it fine. I just never seemed to have enough time nor decent prospects to choose from—at least not since ‘the one’ got away three years ago, as my mother often put it. I tried never to think about that, but every once in awhile when one of my ex-boyfriend Justin’s road hog trailer trucks sped by on the highway, advertising the biggest and best interior plant design company the west coast had to offer…well, a twinge of anger attempted to coil itself around my lungs and yank until I could no longer breath.

At least I bought my cottage with the proceeds from selling that business to him.

My family contended that all my living against the grain had kept my life from progressing as they deemed appropriate. And after a day like today, maybe it was time to slow down, to figure out what Callie Duflay’s life really should look like at this stage. To finally admit that, yes, while I often saw the world from behind a different set of lenses than the rest of my siblings, it didn’t have to stay that way.

I stepped it up, realizing that if I was late for supper again, my sister Sheila was going to be ticked. Not that I’d figured out exactly what to do with my new pal here should he still be with me once I arrived.

When I’d called to inquire about a missing dog, Aida, the harried director of the shelter where I had volunteered on occasion couldn’t get me off the phone fast enough. “Keep him. He couldn’t ask for a better home. My guess is that he thinks he’s yours already.”

In the few short hours since he wriggled his way into my unconventional life, doggy here has already soothed a couple of newly opened wounds, starting with the one that happened soon after I arrived at the camp on the hill for my job as weekend assistant camp director.

On this particular weekend, I arrived early Friday morning to what might have been a grim discovery: a mouse had wedged itself inside a box of colorful two-by-three cards used for the night game. These things happen when cookies from the evening snack are packed away with games.

Fortunately, though, the little guy still had breath to breathe. So I headed back outside, trudged up a hillside until my calves burned, released him from his makeshift cell and scooted him in the direction away from camp. He moved slowly at first as if still gasping for life and then his speed quickened as if he knew that sustenance was only one foraging session away. Although it was early spring, the air still held a chill, especially in the shady spot where my feet were planted. Patches of frost clung to the ground.

I spied a wayward plastic disc half-buried in a nest of pine needles and the sand slide the counselors had made the previous week. Positioning the pink disc at the top of the gangly patch, I folded myself inside its tight borders and let go. Like an oversized junior camper, I scraped and slid along the sand, picking up enough speed to hydroplane across cool earth and flatten new growth before landing at the bottom of the hill in a laughing heap.

It never occurred to me that someone might be watching.

“Looks like someone has too much time on their hands.” Natalia Medina stood over me in a navy-blue tailored suit, holding a clipboard and looking more like she was about to conduct a board meeting than visit camp.

I stood, wiped one hand down the side of my overalls, and reached out to the sole female board member of Pine Ridge Camp. “Hello, Natalia.” She shook my hand.

“I’m looking for Thomas. Have you seen him?” She glanced up the hill I’d just rocketed down. An amused smile tugged at her lips. “Then again, perhaps not.”

“Actually, Squid—I mean ‘Tom’—usually comes in by 10 on Fridays. I had to, uh,” I turned toward the glistening hill not sure how a woman wearing red leather shoes would handle a mission of mercy for a mouse. “Retrieve a sand toy.”

She nodded. “I see that. Well, given your age now, I suppose it’s hardly easy to resist one last childhood fling.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she laughed, but the squeak that escaped her mouth sounded more like a scoff.

I leaned my head to one side. “Excuse me?”

Natalia patted my shoulder. “I only meant that someone with as much education and years behind you will surely be moving on from here soon.” She wrinkled her nose and lowered her voice as if inviting me into her confidence. “Assistant camp director is merely a starter job, right?”

I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on hers. With one quick draw of my verbal sword, Natalia would find herself backed against the hardened trunk of one of those pines. But do I want to jeopardize a job that allows me so much freedom? “Actually, I don’t have any intention of leaving anytime soon, Natalia. I love that this job allows me to work with kids and to be outside so much. Besides, it gives me time to volunteer for some great causes during the week.” I put on a smile. “Not many people can say that.”

A pause dropped like a taut bubble between us. Natalia cleared her throat and her eyes flitted around. “Perhaps you have a point.” She took a step back. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your valuable time. Please let Thomas know that I was here to meet with him. Ask him to call my office, would you?”

She didn’t wait for my answer.

By Sunday, after two packed days of camp, I had seen more bloody noses and blistered toes than even the most experienced mother would be called upon to care for in any given weekend. And this made Squid’s invitation to join him in leading the kids down to the waters of Otter Bay all the more welcoming. Nothing erased a troubling memory quicker than that view of unspoiled by civilization, framed in the clearing.

“Forward, ho!” Squid led the charge through dense pine and fragrant eucalyptus trees. Far above us, clumps of Monarch butterflies still clung together as they hung from leaden branches. It was going to be a late spring.

As I stepped up the pace, ten-year-old Xander marched alongside me and his fellow campers, his rigidity a protest against the apparent torture of a nature hike. “It’s a bunch of trees!”

His proclamation stirred within me the desire to prove him wrong, so I laughed and patted his back. “Just wait, Mister. Once you get to where we’re going, you won’t ever want to leave.”

He crossed his arms. “Doubt that.”

Squid spun around then and begun marching backward while still moving us forward. I took another look at our illustrious leader at the front of the pack. Charismatic, and brilliant with the children, yet down to earth and humble, he defied my usual aversion to ordinary men. He’s someone I’d been thinking twice about lately.

His eyes connected with mine. “You pullin’ up the rear, Seabird?

I sent him a smile from my place at the back of the group of mostly ten and eleven year old campers. “I’m pullin’ it up!”

He nodded and winked at me, continuing to walk backward. “Watchin’ for escapees?”

I tossed Squid a playful salute. “That I am.” At about that spot the campers, mostly boys, often became distracted by the meandering stream that wiggled its way through this land. Dreams of gathering sticks and creating dams danced through their minds.

A rugged smile broke out across Squid’s closely-bearded face. The brightness of his smile dazzled. “Well then, carry on.” He spun back around, and faced forward as he led us through the forested land.

My senses filled with the crispness of pine-infused air, the effect so cleansing that it almost wiped away the sting of condescension that pricked me at the start of this particular weekend. Not quite, but almost.

Even as I breathed in the cool breeze that tickled my cheeks while we moved along on the hike, though, I continued to replay my conversation with Natalia. Who knew that I could be a victim of ageism at such a young age? Most of the college-aged counselors working weekends at camp liked to give me good-natured ribbing about my ‘wisdom’ and ‘experience’, while I teased them about wearing diapers and suckling pacifiers. It’s always been in jest because—really—is thirty all that much older than those fresh-faced souls who walk the hallowed-halls of academe?

Excitement interrupted my wallowing. “The beach!” Xander, who only moments before had dug in his heels in an attempt to halt our day hike, lit up, enthusiasm glowing on his young face. “Woo! Yeah! The beach!”

Squid caught my eye and I went on alert, ready to corral campers who tried to dart for the sea. Most of the kids lived too far inland to be able to visit the beach very often, let alone a protected cove so saturated with marine life like this. My heart leapt at the thought of sharing this place with the kids, one of the few panoramic vistas untouched by development.

Etched rock formations and drenched peaks rose up from the bottom of the sea. Soon the pitted and crevice-carved home of bountiful marine life would lie exposed in the sun. A perfect day for tide pooling. Squid raised the bullhorn along with the camper’s sign of respect displayed on one hand: the thumb, forefinger and pinky. He waited, his stance unruffled, until every eye is on him. His sober expression may shake up the kids, but I knew better. Lines at the corner of Squid’s eyes stretched gently toward his temples, belying a smile.

The campers quieted. “Okay, my friends, listen up.” Squid put on his tough voice. I’ve heard it to so often that I could replay it in my dreams. “Pretty soon, we’re going to be at a negative tide. That means the water level is lower than average. While it is possible to walk out further than the boundary markers we’ll be giving you—don’t do it.”

“A-ah!” Xander protested.

I held my forefinger to my pursed lips, urging Xander and his buddies to listen.

Squid continued. “After lunch, my assistant Seabird over here and I will be explaining the rules of exploring to you…”

A hand went up.

Squid nodded at Megan, the youngest of our campers here this weekend. “Hang on, Meggy and I’ll get around to you in a second. For all the rest, get into your pre-assigned groups. The lunch wagon has arrived compliments of Tidal Wave—aka camp cook. And the counselors will be handing out de-li-cious ham and cheese sandwiches with all the fixins to the quietest groups first.”

Rustling and shushing went on all around us, the hungriest campers urging their group mates to quiet down. Squid was about to signal the counselors that it was time to serve the lunches when Megan’s petite hand rose above her curly brown hair again.

“Yes, Megan. Did you want to say something?”

Her grin barely fit across her face. “I was just wondering…is Seabird your girlfriend?”

The rest of Megan’s group—older girls who counselors had coaxed into welcoming the young one to join their cabin—giggled behind hands-covered faces. A couple of boys in the back stood up and crashed back onto the ground as if they’d been shot by wayward arrows.

Squid smiled and nodded. “All right, all right.” He held up the sign of respect. “Seabird and all the counselors are my friends. Now eat your lunch or we’ll miss out on that super-low tide.” He shot me a wink that sent a quiver right down my leg.

Squid and I have been a team for more than a year. As my own duties had grown, though, I’d missed having more opportunities to participate in hikes like these—especially with him at the helm. Hiring Squid for Camp Director was the smartest decision the board ever made. At twenty-nine, he still wore youthful exuberance like a treasured baseball cap. And yet I’d have to be blind and stupid not to notice him as more than an energetic leader. How could I not notice the way his chiseled arms fit snugly against the flannel of his sleeves, or the way his white teeth flashed against dark facial hair when he smiled? Dare I admit how an unfamiliar warmth flowed through me when our eyes linked and I knew precisely what he was about to say?

“Sandwich?” Carp, one of the counselors, handed me a paper bag, and then another to Squid.

We stood, Squid and I, shoulder to shoulder while watching the children. He swallowed a bite. “Join me on that rock over there?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “Sure.”

Settled on the rock, our lunches on our laps, we continued to eat in silence while watching the campers. There really was no other place I’d rather be, and yet sitting that close to Squid my mind gave way again to unchartered thoughts. The late morning breeze wrapped us in its coolness, and goosebumps alighted on my skin. I’d forgotten how to act around someone so intriguing. Did our sudden wordlessness seem awkward to him too?

Maggie tossed her lunch sack into one of the trash bags held by a counselor, and then skipped toward us. She plopped herself next to me. “You know what? I think you are boyfriend and girlfriend!”

Squid laughed through a bite of sandwich. “Why’s that?”

Maggie giggled. “I know a lot of things. My sister is a teenager.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, laughter in my own voice. “Well, then, that explains it.”

Squid bumped my shoulder with his. “Shall we tell her then?

My chin whipped to the side and I faced him then. I never realized the silver gleam in his eyes before this. “Tell her?”

Squid’s bright grin filled his face. He sent me one of his familiar winks before bending closer to speak directly to Megan. “Seabird here is just too old for me.” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. Which character in A Shore Thing did you relate to most, and why?
2. Callie is the youngest of her family. How has your own birth order affected your relationships with your siblings positively and/or negatively? What role has your faith played in your sibling relationships?
3. On the heels of a bad day, Callie catches sight of a man flicking a cigarette into the sea. Have you ever come upon a situation that caused you to react quickly? What part did your mood at the time play in your handling of the situation?
4. What is some of the best advice you’ve ever heard about handling conflict? (see Gal. 5:15 for why resolving conflict is important.)
5. Gage Mitchell believes that God has given him this chance to start fresh in a new town, so he throws himself into designing the development for the cliffs of Otter Bay. If you were in his place, how might you have reacted to Callie’s vehement challenge?
6. What did you like or dislike about Gage, and why?
7. Callie’s older brother Jim seems to have it all, yet he’s unmovable when it comes to helping his younger sister with her quests. Why do you think that is? Have you ever known anyone so stubborn (no need to name names here)? What did you do (or might you have done) to help them change their hardened ways?
8. In their own ways, both Callie and Gage desire to honor God by taking care of his creation (Genesis 2:15). Have you ever agreed with someone in theory, as they seem to, yet still found yourself in bitter conflict with them? How did you handle that?
9. The terms “eco-friendly” and “green” often polarize people in today’s world. Do you think a balance could or should be struck? Why or why not? What are your thoughts about Callie’s and Gage’s views on these topics?
10. What did you think about Ruth’s involvement in the SOS group? In your opinion, how were her motives the same as or different from Callie’s?
11. Callie often tried to ‘read’ what her boss, Thomas aka ‘Squid’, thought about her community activities. Do you ever find yourself considering other people’s opinions about your causes? How much does it matter to you what other people think about you?
12. What burden did you see Callie carrying and how did she find release from it? Can you relate? Why or why not? (see Col. 3:13).
13. How did the camp’s theme (from Matthew 7:24) come into play in Callie and Gage’s lives?
14. Callie loves children, but not the idea of pregnancy. How had her opinion been shaped over the years? Have you ever clung to an idea only to have it change abruptly years later?
15. The opening line of A Shore Thing is “The rope in my hand resembled a noose.” In your opinion, what might those words symbolize?

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»	Author Julie Carobini's web site

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