Cottage on the Bay (Paperback)

Sometimes, the best recipes are made from second chances and shared dreams.

At sixty-seven, Susan Timms thought she’d closed the final chapter on her culinary career when she sold her Georgia catering business. Moving to Sapphire Bay to reunite with her friends feels like the fresh start she desperately needs—until she meets a man who’s just as passionate about food as she is.

Paul left behind the glittering success of his Los Angeles and San Francisco restaurants for the peaceful shores of Sapphire Bay, trading fame and fortune for a simpler life. After his marriage crumbled under the weight of eighteen-hour days and endless ambition, he swore off both romance and the high-pressure culinary world that had consumed him.

When he asks Susan to help him create a new menu for his restaurant, he discovers that the most important ingredient in any recipe is trust. Together, they learn that it’s never too late to blend two lives, two dreams, and two hearts into something beautiful—proving that the sweetest success comes not from what you achieve alone, but from what you create together.

Cottage on the Bay is the fourth book in Leeanna’s A New Beginning series and can easily be read as a standalone. All of Leeanna’s series are linked. If you find a character you like, they could be in another novel!

Susan stood in the kitchen of the newly renovated Arts and Crafts Center in Sapphire Bay, arranging the final touches on a platter of herb-crusted salmon canapés. Her hands moved with the practiced efficiency of three decades in the catering business, but tonight felt different.

She’d been looking forward to providing the catering for the premiere of Piper Adams’ documentary about an underground network of women. Especially after seeing the hidden room in Kathleen’s basement where Florence and Miriam Buckley’s remarkable story had begun. But as Susan garnished the final canapé with a sprig of fresh dill, she couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that had been following her since she’d moved to Montana five months ago.

Through the kitchen doorway, she saw the reception area filling with couples. Mayor Patricia Chen arrived with her husband of forty years. Dr. Sarah Mitchell from the Smithsonian had brought her partner. Even Mabel Terry from the general store had brought her husband—and Allan hardly ever came to this type of event.

Susan turned back to her platters, swallowing against the unexpected tightness in her throat.

At sixty-seven, she thought she’d made peace with being alone. She’d sold her Georgia catering business—the company she’d built from nothing after her divorce thirty years ago. She’d moved to Sapphire Bay to reunite with her childhood friends and found meaningful work teaching cooking classes at the Welcome Center. She had everything she’d told herself she wanted. Freedom, friendship, and the breathtaking beauty of Flathead Lake each time she went for a walk.

So why did she feel like she was standing on the outside of her own life, watching everyone else live while she just... existed?

“Susan!” Isabel’s voice called from across the room. Her friend looked radiant in a forest green wrap dress, her silver hair swept into a sophisticated updo. Frank stood beside her, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back. “Need any help?”

“I think I’m all set, but thanks.” Susan forced brightness into her voice. Isabel and Frank had found each other at sixty-five, proving it was never too late for love. Lynda had found Matt. Even Kathleen and Patrick had finally admitted that they were head over heels in love with each other.

Susan was the only one still alone.

She picked up a tray of appetizers and carried them into the reception area, her smile firmly in place. She’d become an expert at this over the years—the competent, cheerful woman who made everyone else’s celebrations perfect while her own life remained stubbornly empty.

“Excuse me, are you Susan Fletcher?”

She turned to find a young reporter from the Flathead Beacon, notebook already open. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Jennifer Walker. I was hoping to get a few quotes about tonight’s event. I understand you provided the catering?” The reporter’s eyes brightened. “And what’s next for you? Any plans to expand your cooking classes or maybe open a restaurant?”

The question landed like a stone in Susan’s chest. What’s next for you?

If only she knew.

“I’m keeping my options open,” Susan replied, the words feeling hollow even as she spoke them. The truth was, she had no idea what came next. She’d spent thirty years building an identity around her business. She was Susan Fletcher, a successful caterer, and the woman who could pull off a perfect wedding for two hundred people or an intimate dinner with equal skill. 

Here in Sapphire Bay, she was simply Susan. Kathleen’s friend. The woman who taught cooking classes. Someone with time to bake cookies for breakfast and take aimless walks along the lake.

Someone with nothing important to do and no one important to be.

As Jennifer moved on to interview other attendees, Susan scanned the growing crowd. That’s when she saw him.

Paul Renard stood near the entrance, his tall frame relaxed in dark slacks and a charcoal sweater that brought out the silver at his temples. He was alone, but he carried himself with a quiet confidence that made his solitude look like a choice rather than a circumstance.

Their eyes met across the room, and Susan’s breath caught.

Over the past few months, they’d developed an easy friendship based on their shared passion for food. He’d been generous with his advice when she was setting up her cooking classes, and they often discussed techniques and flavor profiles with the kind of shorthand that came from years in professional kitchens. But there was something else beneath their conversations, something neither of them had acknowledged.

Something that made her pulse quicken now as he smiled and began making his way toward her.

“No,” Susan told herself firmly. “Don’t even think it.”

She’d closed the door on romance years ago, accepted that some chapters of life were simply over. She’d come to Montana to find peace, not to chase foolish dreams about a man she barely knew.

But as Paul drew closer, his eyes were full of genuine pleasure at seeing her. Susan felt something stir in her chest that she’d thought was long dead.

Hope.

Dangerous, terrifying hope.

“Susan,” he said, his voice carrying a slight roughness that suggested he didn’t waste words on small talk. “Your canapés are incredible.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.” She gestured toward the platters. “The mushroom phyllo cups turned out better than I expected.”

Paul picked one up, examining it with the careful attention of a fellow chef. “Is this a family recipe?”

“It’s something I developed for a wedding I catered a few years ago.” Susan relaxed into the familiar territory of food talk, grateful for solid ground beneath her feet. “The bride was vegetarian, and she wanted something that would satisfy her carnivorous father-in-law. The key is using three different types of mushrooms and adding just a touch of brandy to the reduction.”

“That’s brilliant.” Paul’s smile widened. “I’ve been thinking about expanding the appetizer menu at the Grill. Would you consider collaborating on some new dishes?”

The suggestion caught her completely off guard. “Collaborating?”

“We could develop a new menu together. Create a few signature dishes.” He paused, and something vulnerable flickered across his features. “Your instinct for flavors that people want to eat is better than most of the chefs I’ve worked with. And I’ve worked with some of the best.”

Warmth spread through Susan’s chest, followed by uncertainty. More work meant more commitment. It meant admitting she wanted to be more than just a retired caterer marking time until... what? Until she died? Until her friends got tired of including her in their coupled-up lives?

“Can I think about it?” she asked, hating the quaver in her voice.

“Of course.” His smile was understanding rather than disappointed. “No pressure. But the offer stands whenever you’re ready.”

As Paul moved away to greet other guests, Susan watched him go. He stopped to talk with Pastor John, his posture relaxed but somehow separate. Even in a crowded room, Paul Renard carried an invisible barrier around himself—the careful distance of someone who’d been hurt and wasn’t willing to risk his heart again.

She recognized it because she was exactly the same.

The lights dimmed, signaling that the documentary was about to begin. Susan did a final check of her catering stations, but her mind was elsewhere. She thought about Florence and Miriam Buckley, the two women whose story would be celebrated tonight. They’d created a legacy that lasted over a century, helping countless women build new lives from the ashes of old shame.

What legacy was Susan building in this small Montana town? And more importantly, what did she want her legacy to be?

As the guests moved toward the theater, Susan allowed herself one more glance at Paul. He stood alone near the refreshment table, his expression thoughtful as he watched the crowd. For just a moment, their eyes met again, and Susan saw something in his face that matched the ache in her own chest.

Loneliness. Bone-deep, soul-crushing loneliness.

And the terrifying possibility that neither of them had to stay lonely if they were brave enough to try.