Review
"[A] quiet, poignant romance...easy to like."—Kirkus Reviews
From the Inside Flap
In her fifty-ninth bestselling novel, Danielle Steel tells an unforgettable story of survival...of how two people who lost everything find hope...and of the extraordinary acts of faith and courage that bring -- and keep -- families together...
Safe Harbour
On a windswept summer day, as the fog rolls across the San Francisco coastline, a solitary figure walks down the beach, a dog at her side. At eleven, Pip Mackenzie's young life has already been touched by tragedy; nine months before, a terrible accident plunged her mother into inconsolable grief. But on this chilly July afternoon, Pip meets someone who fills her sad gray world with color and light. And in her innocence and in his kindness, a spark will be kindled, lives will be changed, and a journey of hope will begin.
From the moment the curly-haired girl walks up to his easel on the sand, Matt Bowles senses something magical about her. Pip reminds him of his own daughter at that age, before a bitter divorce tore his family apart and swept his children halfway across the world. With her own mother, Ophélie, retreating deeper into her grief, Pip spends her summer at the shore the way lonely children do: watching the glittering waters and rushing clouds, daydreaming and remembering how things used to be. That is, until she meets artist Matt Bowles, who offers to teach the girl to draw -- and can't help but notice her beautiful, lonely mother. At first, Ophélie is thrown off balance by her daughter's new companion -- until she realizes how much joy he is bringing into their lives, despite the sadness she sees in his eyes. As their newfound friend works his subtle magic, mother and daughter slowly begin to heal, to laugh again, to rediscover what they have lost.
When summer ends, and Ophélie and Pip must leave the beach for the city, the season of healing continues. Gathering her newfound strength, Ophélie begins a volunteer job at a city outreach program, where she works with the homeless, and can no longer ignore the blessings in her own life. But as soul-sharing phone calls and autumn beach getaways deepen Ophélie and Matt's friendship, fate strikes another blow. Out of the blue, Matt must confront unfinished business from his past. Days later, Ophélie is struck by a stunning betrayal by someone she trusts. And as these events reverberate in two already wounded hearts, something extraordinary happens. Out of the darkness that has shadowed them both comes an unexpected gift of hope.
With grace and compassion, Danielle Steel explores the fragile bonds between mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, family members and lifelong friends. Her haunting, impassioned novel takes us across the complex landscape of loss -- to the blessings that arise from even the darkest tragedies. At once a story of triumph and a moving elegy to those who suffer and survive, Safe Harbour is perhaps her most powerful and life-affirming novel to date.
From the Hardcover edition.
From the Back Cover
In her fifty-ninth bestselling novel, Danielle Steel tells an unforgettable story of survival...of how two people who lost everything find hope...and of the extraordinary acts of faith and courage that bring -- and keep -- families together...
Safe Harbour
On a windswept summer day, as the fog rolls across the San Francisco coastline, a solitary figure walks down the beach, a dog at her side. At eleven, Pip Mackenzie's young life has already been touched by tragedy; nine months before, a terrible accident plunged her mother into inconsolable grief. But on this chilly July afternoon, Pip meets someone who fills her sad gray world with color and light. And in her innocence and in his kindness, a spark will be kindled, lives will be changed, and a journey of hope will begin.
From the moment the curly-haired girl walks up to his easel on the sand, Matt Bowles senses something magical about her. Pip reminds him of his own daughter at that age, before a bitter divorce tore his family apart and swept his children halfway across the world. With her own mother, Ophélie, retreating deeper into her grief, Pip spends her summer at the shore the way lonely children do: watching the glittering waters and rushing clouds, daydreaming and remembering how things used to be. That is, until she meets artist Matt Bowles, who offers to teach the girl to draw -- and can't help but notice her beautiful, lonely mother. At first, Ophélie is thrown off balance by her daughter's new companion -- until she realizes how much joy he is bringing into their lives, despite the sadness she sees in his eyes. As their newfound friend works his subtle magic, mother and daughter slowly begin to heal, to laugh again, to rediscover what they have lost.
When summer ends, and Ophélie and Pip must leave the beach for the city, the season of healing continues. Gathering her newfound strength, Ophélie begins a volunteer job at a city outreach program, where she works with the homeless, and can no longer ignore the blessings in her own life. But as soul-sharing phone calls and autumn beach getaways deepen Ophélie and Matt's friendship, fate strikes another blow. Out of the blue, Matt must confront unfinished business from his past. Days later, Ophélie is struck by a stunning betrayal by someone she trusts. And as these events reverberate in two already wounded hearts, something extraordinary happens. Out of the darkness that has shadowed them both comes an unexpected gift of hope.
With grace and compassion, Danielle Steel explores the fragile bonds between mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, family members and lifelong friends. Her haunting, impassioned novel takes us across the complex landscape of loss -- to the blessings that arise from even the darkest tragedies. At once a story of triumph and a moving elegy to those who suffer and survive, Safe Harbour is perhaps her most powerful and life-affirming novel to date.
From the Hardcover edition.
About the Author
Danielle Steel has been hailed as one of the world’s most popular authors, with over 560 million copies of her novels sold. Her many international bestsellers include Sisters, H.R.H., Coming Out, The House, Toxic Bachelors, Miracle, and other highly acclaimed novels. She is also the author of His Bright Light, the story of her son Nick Traina’s life and death.
From the Hardcover edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
It was one of those chilly, foggy days that masquerade as summer in northern California, as the wind whipped across the long crescent of beach, and whisk-broomed a cloud of fine sand into the air. A little girl in red shorts and a white sweatshirt walked slowly down the beach, with her head turned against the wind, as her dog sniffed at seaweed at the water's edge.
The little girl had short curly red hair, amber-flecked honey-colored eyes, and a dusting of freckles across her face, and those who knew children would have guessed her to be somewhere between ten and twelve. She was graceful and small, with skinny little legs. And the dog was a chocolate Lab. They walked slowly down from the gated community toward the public beach at the far end. There was almost no one on the beach that day, it was too cold. But she didn't mind, and the dog barked from time to time at the little swirls of sand raised by the wind, and then bounded back to the water's edge. He leaped backward, barking furiously, when he saw a crab, and the little girl laughed. It was obvious that the child and the dog were good friends. Something about the way they walked along together suggested a solitary life, as though one could sense that they had walked along this way often before. They walked side by side for a long time.
Some days it was hot and sunny on the beach, as one would expect in July, but not always. When the fog came in, it always seemed wintry and cold. You could see the fog roll in across the waves, and straight through the spires of the Golden Gate. At times you could see the bridge from the beach. Safe Harbour was thirty-five minutes north of San Francisco, and more than half of it was a gated community, with houses sitting just behind the dune, all along the beach. A security booth with a guard kept out the unwelcome. There was no access to the beach itself save from the houses that bordered it. At the other end, there was a public beach, and a row of simpler, almost shacklike houses, which had access to the beach as well. On hot sunny days, the public beach was crowded and populated inch by inch. But most of the time, even the public beach was sparsely visited, and at the private end, it was rare to see anyone on the beach at all.
The child had just reached the stretch of beach where the simpler houses were, when she saw a man sitting on a folding stool, painting a watercolor propped against an easel. She stopped and watched him from a considerable distance, as the Lab loped up the dune to pursue an intriguing scent he seemed to have discovered on the wind. The little girl sat down on the sand far from the artist, watching him work. And she was far enough away that he was not aware of her at all. She just liked watching him, there was something solid and familiar about him as the wind brushed through his short dark hair. She liked observing people, and did the same thing with fishermen sometimes, staying well away from them, but taking in all they did. She sat there for a long time, as the artist worked. And she noticed that there were boats in his painting that didn't exist. It was quite a while before the dog came back and sat down next to her on the sand. She stroked him, without looking at him, she was looking out to sea, and then from time to time at the man.
After a while, she stood up and approached a little bit, standing behind him and to the side, so he remained unaware of her presence, but she had a clear view of his work in progress. She liked the colors he was working with, and there was a sunset in the painting that she liked as well. The dog was tired by then, and stood by, seeming to wait for a command. And it was yet another little while before she approached again, and stood near enough for the artist to notice her at last. He looked up, startled, as the dog bounded past him, sending up a spray of sand. It was only then that the man glanced up and saw the child. He said nothing, and went on working, and was surprised to notice that she hadn't moved, and was still watching him, when he turned his head again, and mixed some water in his paints.
They said nothing to each other, but she continued to watch, and finally sat down on the sand. It was warmer, keeping low in the wind. Like her, the artist was wearing a sweatshirt, and in his case jeans, and an old pair of deck shoes that were well worn. He had a gently weathered face and a deep tan, and she noticed as he worked that he had nice hands. He was roughly the same age as her father, in his forties somewhere. And as he turned to see if she was still there, their eyes met, but neither smiled. He hadn't talked to a child in a long time.
"Do you like to draw?" He couldn't imagine any other reason why she'd still be there, except if she were an aspiring artist. She would have been bored otherwise. In truth, she just liked the silent companionship of being close to someone, even a stranger. It seemed friendly somehow.
"Sometimes." She was cautious with him. He was, after all, a stranger, and she knew the rules about that.
"What do you like to draw?" he asked, cleaning a brush, and looking down at it as he talked. He had a handsome, chiseled face, and a cleft chin. There was something quiet and powerful about him, with broad shoulders and long legs. And in spite of sitting on the artist's stool, you could see he was a tall man.
"I like to draw my dog. How do you draw the boats if they aren't there?"
He smiled this time as he turned toward her, and their eyes met again. "I imagine them. Would you like to try?" He held out a small sketch pad and a pencil, it was obvious that she wasn't going anywhere. She hesitated, and then stood up, walked toward him, and took the pencil and pad.
"Can I draw my dog?" Her delicate face was serious as she inquired. She felt honored that he had offered her the pad.
"Sure. You can draw anything you like." They didn't exchange names, but just sat near each other for a time, as each worked. She looked intent as she labored on the drawing. "What's his name?" the artist inquired as the Lab sailed past them, chasing birds.
"Mousse," she said, without raising her eyes from her drawing.
"He doesn't look much like a moose. But it's a good name," he said, correcting something on his own work, and momentarily scowling at his painting.
"It's a dessert. It's French, and it's chocolate."
"I guess that'll work," he said, looking satisfied again. He was almost through for the day. It was after four o'clock and he'd been there since lunchtime. "Do you speak French?" he said, more for something to say than out of any real interest, and was surprised when she nodded. It had been years since he'd spoken to a child her age, and he wasn't sure what he should say to her. But she had been so tenacious in her silent presence. And he noticed, as he glanced at her, that aside from the red hair, she looked a little like his daughter. Vanessa had had long straight blond hair at that age, but there was something similar about the demeanor and the posture. If he squinted, he could almost see her.
"My mom's French," she added, as she sat, observing her own work. She had encountered the same difficulty she always did when she drew Mousse--the back legs didn't come out right.
"Let's take a look," he said, holding a hand out for the sketch pad, aware of her consternation.
"I can never do the back part," she said, handing it to him. They were like master and student, the drawing creating an instant bond between them. And she seemed strangely comfortable with him.
"I'll show you. . . . May I?" he asked her permission before adding to her efforts, and she nodded. And with careful strokes of the pencil, he corrected the problem. It was actually a very creditable portrait of the dog, even before he improved it. "You did a good job," he observed, as he handed the page back to her and put away his sketch pad and pencil.
"Thank you for fixing it. I never know how to do that part."
"You'll know next time," he said, and started putting his paints away. It was getting colder, but neither of them seemed to notice.
"Are you going home now?" She looked disappointed, and it struck him as he looked into the cognac-colored eyes that she was lonely, and it touched him. Something about her haunted him.
"It's getting late." And the fog on the waves was getting thicker. "Do you live here, or are you just visiting?" Neither knew the other's name, but it didn't seem to matter.
"I'm here for the summer." There was no excitement in her voice, and she smiled seldom. He couldn't help wondering about her. She had crept into his afternoon, and now there was an odd, undefinable link between them.
"At the gated end?" He assumed she had come from the north end of the beach, and she nodded.
"Do you live here?" she asked, and he gestured with his head in the direction of one of the bungalows just behind them in answer. "Are you an artist?"
"I guess so. So are you," he smiled, glancing at the portrait of Mousse she was holding tightly. Neither of them seemed to want to leave, but they knew they had to. She had to get home before her mother did, or she'd get in trouble. She had escaped the baby-sitter who'd been talking for hours on the phone with her boyfriend. The child knew that the teenaged baby-sitter never cared if she went wandering off. Most of the time she didn't even notice, until the child's mother came home and asked about her.
"My father used to draw too." He noticed the "used to," but wasn't sure if it meant that her father no longer drew, or had left them. He suspected the latter. She was probably a child from a broken home, hungry for male attention. None of that was unfamiliar to him.
"Is h...
Eight-year-old Pip Mackenzie is not sure her life will ever be normal-or if her mother will ever recover from the devastating loss of her husband and son. The mother and daughter's search for comfort and recovery takes them to Safe Harbour, where Pip befriends an artist on the beach who's recovering from his own losses. The story twists and turns in Steel's typical style. However, Kyf Brewer fails to engage the listener. Although his voice is rich and warm, there is only one male main character in the book, and his voice makes it difficult to immerse oneself in the female characters. Danielle Steele fans will enjoy the story but may find the male delivery less enjoyable. S.K.P. © AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine
