Ep. 20) Breeze Over the Bluffs

1. relationships
2. second-chance love
3. small-town drama
4. emotional storytelling
5. love stories
6. family legacy
7. romantic drama
8. pottery romance
9. Clayhollow
10. Clara Wren
11. Miles Tarrow
12. Lila Sterling
13. Midnight’s Shadow
14. artisan romance
15. community bonds

Shadows Before Midnight
Step into the moonlit forests of New England romance with Lila Sterling’s tales of love, legacy, and supernatural intrigue. From the pines of Maine to the hearths of small-town artisans, each story weaves passion and mystery under the stars.
© 2025 Lila Sterling. All rights reserved. Recorded under the moonlit pines of New England, September 17, 2025.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Breeze over the Bluffs, Part one by Leela Stirling, Chapter one,
The Returns. The salty breeze swept over Cliffside, Oregon. As
Ellie Harper stepped onto the bluff overlooking the Pacific on
a crisp October morning in nineteen ninety six, at thirty four.
She hadn't returned to the coastal town since her mother

(00:21):
passing three years ago, leaving behind the sprawling Harper estate,
a Victorian relic perched on the cliffs. A letter from
the cliff Side Heritage Society had summoned her the estate.
Her family's legacy face sailed due to unpaid taxes, With
developer Marcus Reed proposing a resort, Ellie planned to assess it,
settle the debts, and escape back to her quiet life

(00:44):
as a landscape architect in Seattle. But the site of
the turreted house, its paint peeling, its gardens overgrown, tugged
at her heart. She climbed the stone steps to the estate,
the wind rustling the wild roses along the path, the
scent of sea and earth filling her lungs. Inside the
air held the musty aroama of old wood and lavender.

(01:05):
The furniture draped with sheets from her mother's time, a
faded photograph of her mother on the porch. Her smile,
radiant brought a lump to Ellie's throat. She left Cliff's
eide to avoid the grief of those final months, but
the estate's silence whispered of roots she couldn't sever. A
knock startled her. She opened the door to find a man,
lean and rugged, his blonde hair tousled by the wind,

(01:27):
wearing a flannel shirt. His blue eyes held a steady warmth.
Ellie Harper, he asked, his voice smooth like the tide.
I'm Nate Caldwell. Your mother hired me to tend the
grounds before she passed. I've kept them up since. Ellie's
breath caught Nate. You were just a kid, helping with
the roses. She remembered him, a lanky sixteen year old

(01:48):
pruning shrubs, his laughter blending with the gulls now. At
twenty six, he stood before her, a man shaped by
the bluffs. I stayed, he said, simply the estate needed someone.
Chapter two, The fadding Estate. Ellie stepped onto the porch
with Nate, the wind tugging at her scarf, As they
surveyed the Harper estate, the turrets leaned slightly, Their foundations

(02:12):
cracked from years of coastal erosion, and the gardens were
a tangle of thorns. It's worse than I feared, she said,
her voice tight. The Heritage Society's deadline loomed three months
to pay the taxes or lose the property, and Marcus
Reed's resort plans threatened to erase her family's history. Nate
pointed to a row of pruned roses near the bluff.

(02:33):
I've been stabilizing the soil, but the storms keep washing
it away. We'd need stone work, new plantings, and funds.
His hands, rough from years of gardening, gestured with quiet confidence.
I'm selling. Ellie said, the words heavy. I can't afford this.
Her architect's salary covered her Seattle condo, but the estate's

(02:53):
restoration would cost tens of thousands. She didn't have. Yet
the thought of losing it gnawed at her. Her mother's sanctuary,
her childhood haven. Nate's jaw tightened. Your mother loved this place.
She'd fight for it. His words strung a reminder of
her absence. She turned away, gazing at the ocean its
waves crashing below. I don't know how, she admitted. He

(03:17):
stepped closer, his presence warm against the chill. I can help.
I've got skills landscaping, some masonry from local projects. We
could start small. See if the town backs us. His
office surprised her, stirring memories of summer days, his easy grin.
As they explored the cliffs. She nodded, reluctant, but drawn
to the IDEA. Let's try, she said, her voice softening.

(03:40):
By afternoon, they cleared thorns from the rose garden, Nate's
steady hands gidding hers the work felt like a dance
from her past, and his quiet strength began to thaw
her resolve. Chapter three, The town's pulse. Cliffside rallied around
Elly the next day, its residence, bringing supplies, bricks from
the Mason, seedlings from the florist. Old mister Larson, the

(04:03):
grocer handed her a basket of BlackBerry pie. Your mother
kept this town alive with her gardens, he said, his
eyes kind. We'll fight for it. The village's support warmed Ellie,
a contrast to her solitary life in Seattle. She organized
a community meeting at the town hall, hopping to rally
more help against Marcus Reed's plans. The hall hummed with voices,

(04:24):
the scent of salt water and wood smoke filling the air.
Ellie stood her hands trembling. The Harper estate is Cliffside's history,
she said, we can save it together. The crowd nodded,
but Marcus strode in his suit, crisp his smile smooth.
Progress needs sacrifice, he said. A resort will bring jobs.
This estate is a relic. His words drew murmurs, and

(04:45):
Ellie's heart sank. Afterward, Nate found her on the bluffs.
The ocean spread below, its waves a steady rhythm. You
were brave, he said, his tone warm. Why do you leave, Ellie?
No word, just gone. His question pierced her. Mom was fat,
she said, her voice breaking. I couldn't watch her die.
I thought you moved on two, I wrote, Nate said,

(05:07):
his eyes darkening every month from my jobs around town.
Did you get them? She shook her head, a chill
running through her. Had her sister Lily hidden them out
of spite? The revelation left her reeling, the past crashing
into the present. Chapter four, the first warmths in the
estate's greenhouse, Ellie sorted tools for the garden repairs, the

(05:28):
clink of metal a steady beat. Nate worked beside her,
pruning rose stems, his focus intense. You've still got her touch,
he said, nodding at her grip on shears. She smiled faintly,
the compliment easing her tension. She taught me well, she said,
her voice soft. Their hands brushed as they stacked clippings,
and a warmth jolted through her, unexpected and bright. She

(05:51):
pulled back, focusing on the work, but Nate's presence lingered
a pool she couldn't ignore. They planned a garden fare
on the bluffs, using the estate as a backdrop to
raise funds. Nates strung lights along the path, their glow
mirroring the sea's shimmer. As they tested the lights, their
shoulders touched, and Ellie's pulse quickened. We're not kids anymore,
she said, stepping away. Nate's smile was gentle. No, but

(06:14):
some feelings don't fade. His words hung between them, a
promise of something more. The bluffs glowed that night, with
townsfolk bidding on plants and donatting, but Marcus's shadow loomed.
My offers still open, he said, his voice cold. Ellie's
determination hardened. She'd fight for the estate and maybe her heart.
Chapter five, The garden fairs bloom. The bluffs glowed with

(06:38):
lanterns that evening, their light dancing across the wild roses.
As Cliffside gathered for the garden fair to save the
Harper estate. Ellie Harper arranged a table with her landscape sketches,
intricate designs of terraced gardens and stone paths, while Nate
Coldwell hung his handcrafted wooden trellises, each carved with leaf motifs.
The crowd buzzed with energy, the scent of blackbury pie

(07:00):
and sea air mingling as bids climbed for local plants
and crafts. Ellie's heart lifted with each dollar raised, the
funds inching toward the tax debts, but marcus Reads resort deadline,
now two months away, kept her on edge. Nate moved
through the crowd, serving cider, his flannel sleeves rolled up,

(07:21):
revealing sun tanned arms. His blue eyes met us across
the bluffs, a quiet smile, sparking warmth she tried to suppress.
They'd been working side by side for days, pruning roses.
Planning events, and his steady presence chipped at her defenses.
She turned to a bidder, an older florist, who admired
a sketch. Reminds me of your mother's vision, she said,
her voice warm. You've got her soul. Before Ellie could reply,

(07:45):
Marcus approached, his tailored coats stark against the villagers rugged clothes.
The air stilled as he spoke, Miss Harper, he said,
gesturing to the fair. A charming effort. But my resort
could preserve the estate as a luxury retreat. Sell now
and you'd profit. Ellie's stomach tightened. This isn't a retreat.
It's Cliffside's heart. Her voice carried and nods rippled through

(08:09):
the crowd. Marcus's smile thinned heart doesn't pay taxes. My
office stands for now. He walked off, leaving a chill
Nate stepped beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. He's rattled,
he said, quietly, you're turning the town. His touch sent
a flicker through her, stirring memories of their youth. She
stepped back, focusing on the bids, but his presence glowed

(08:30):
like a beacon. She couldn't dim by night's end, the
fare raised nearly half the needed funds, and as they
packed up, Nate's hands steadied a trellis, his warmth lingering.
Chapter six, The Bluff's Side Truth. The bluffs stretched under
twilight sky, their edges softened by the sea's missed Ellie
sat on a stone bench. The garden fair's success tempered

(08:53):
by Marcus's offer and the sting of Nate's lost letters.
Had her sister Lily really hidden them out of jealousy?
The thought burn and she needed answers. The crunch of
boots announced Nate, his breath visible in the cool air.
Thought I'd find you here, he said, sitting beside her,
leaving a careful space. The oceans roar filled the silence,

(09:13):
and the scent of pine clung to him, grounding her.
Why didn't you come after me, Ellie asked, her voice roar.
Letters are one thing, Nate, but you could have found
me in Seattle. He looked at the horizon, his jaw tight.
I tried once after a landscaping job, Lily said, you
moved on that you didn't want cliff side. I didn't

(09:33):
want to drag you back. His voice carried regret, Ellie's
heart sank. Lily, always envious of her bond with Nate,
had sabotaged them. She lied, She whispered, the betrayal sharp.
I waited for you, Nate, for months. I thought you'd
forgotten me. His eyes met hers pained I'm sorry, I
thought letting you go as best you were meant for

(09:54):
more than this town. He reached for her hand, his
touch tentative, warm from the day's work. She didn't pull
a away, the contact stirring memories of bluff side hikes.
I wanted you, not Seattle, she said, her voice breaking.
I wrote too, Nate said, every letter was for you.
His honesty cracked her walls, and she felt the pull
of their past like a tide drawing her in, but

(10:15):
fear held her back. She couldn't risk her heart again.
She stood, the bluffs blurring in her eyes and walked
back to the estate, the weight of truth glowing within her.
Chapter seven, The Gardener's Rhythm. The estate's greenhouse hummed with
purpose as Elly and Nate prepared for the next garden phase.
Hauling stone blocks to reinforce the bluff wall. They mixed

(10:37):
mortar and laid stones. The rhythm of their work, a
steady beat against the coastal wind. Ellie's hands guided the trowel,
the task grounding her, while Nate braced the wall, his
focus intense. Their efforts felt like a dance, each move
complimenting the other, but the air crackled with unspoken tension.
As they set a stone, a gust nearly knocked Elly

(10:58):
off balance. Nate brought her, his arms strong around her waist. Careful,
he said, his voice husky, their faces inches apart. Her
pulse raced, and she teased, still clumsy, breaking the moment,
her cheeks flushed. You're steady, Nate said, his smile soft.
The words hit her, stirring memories of late afternoons helping
her mother, dreaming with Nate by her side. She turned

(11:21):
to the work, focusing on the mortar, but her heart pounded.
They laboured late, the wall taking shape under the greenhouse's
warm lights. Nate shared tailies of his landscaping days, stormy cliffs,
lonely nights, and Ellie listened, drawn to his resilience. Why
do you stay, she asked, pausing her trowel for the estate.
He said, for your mother and for you, Even if

(11:41):
I didn't know it, then his honesty warmed her, fraying
the walls she'd built, but fear lingered she couldn't fall again,
not with the estate's fate and her heart at stake.
As they cleaned up, their hands brushed, and Ellie felt
a spark she couldn't extinguish. Chapter eight, The towns stand.
Next morning, Cliffside buzzed with resolve, Ellie and Nate organized

(12:03):
an open house at the estate, inviting the village to
see its value. Gardner's demonstrated pruning techniques. Kids explored the turrets,
and mister Larsen brought BlackBerry jam. The community's support was
a warm glow, but Marcus's smear campaign cast a shadow.
Fliers claim the estate was unstable. Ellie's anger flared, but
Nate's calm presence steadied her. We'll prove them wrong, he said,

(12:28):
his hand brushing hers as they set up displays. The
open house drew a crowd, with villagers marveling at the
repairs and Ellie's sketches. A petition to declare the estate
a historic site gained signatures, and the mayor promised to
push it through. Marcus arrived, his presence a cold draft.
This is sentimental, he said, his tone sharp. My resort

(12:50):
will bring progress, your delaying the inevitable. Ellie stood tall.
This estate is our future, not your profit. The crowd cheered,
and Nate's proud smile warmed her. As the day ended,
they stood in the turret adjusting a window. Their hands met,
and for a moment Ellie didn't pull away. The air
felt charged, their faces close, but a child's laugh broke
the spell. Ellie stepped back, her heart racing. The festival

(13:14):
was weeks away, their last chance to save the estate
and maybe their love. Chapter nine. The Bluff Festival. The
cliff Side Bluff Festival transformed the town into a vibrant haven,
its cliffs aglow with lanterns, the scent of grilled salmon
and wild roses mingling in the crisp November air of
nineteen ninety six. The Harper Estate stood as the festival's centerpiece,

(13:38):
its stone walls reinforced and gardens blooming with new plantings,
a symbol of cliff Sides resolve. Ellie Harper arranged a
table with her landscape designs, blueprints for terraced gardens and
rose trellises, while Nate Caldwell hung his handcrafted wooden benches,
each etched with wave patterns. The crowd buzzed with energy,

(13:59):
the sound of good tuitars and laughter carrying over the Pacific.
As bids climbed for local crafts and donations poured into
clear the tax debts, Ellie's heart swelled with each contribution,
the funds surpassing the goal. With Marcus Reed's resort deadline
now just days away, Ellie adjusted a blueprint, its lines

(14:20):
capturing the bluff's curves, her fingers lingering on the paper.
Nate moved beside her, his flannel sleeves rolled up, his
blue eyes bright with pride. This is it, he said,
his voice warm. You brought Cliffside together. His words kindled
a spark in her, but the final council vote loomed
a shadow over their victory. Marcus approached, his tailored coat

(14:42):
stark against the villager's rugged jackets. The air stilled as
he spoke, Miss Harper, he said, gesturing to the festival,
a noble display. But my resort could make this estate
a luxury landmark. Sell now and you'd profit. Ellie's resolve hardened.
This estate isn't a landmark. Its cliff sided soul. Her

(15:02):
voice rang out, and the crowd murmured support. Nate stepped closer,
his presence steady. She's right, he said, this town chooses
its legacy over your profit. Marcus's smile thinned and he
walked off, his footsteps fadding into the festival's hum As
dusk fell, the mayor took the stage by the estate,
her voice clear over the waves. Thanks to your generosity,

(15:24):
the Harper Estate has raised enough to settle its debts,
and the council has voted to protect it as a
historic site. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Ellie's eyes
strung with relief. Nate's hand found hers, his touch a
quiet promise. They joined the festival's dance, their steps close
under the lanterns, the music weaving their past and present
into a single radiant moment. Chapter ten, The letters unveiled,

(15:49):
the festival's triumph, lingered in Ellie's mind as she climbed
the estate's turret stairs. The next evening, a lantern casting
shadows on the wood paneled walls. Nate's confession about the letters,
he'd said hidden by her sister Lily, had left her restless,
needing proof. The turret's windows framed the Pacific below, and
Ellie sifted through her mother's old trunk. In a corner,

(16:09):
tucked behind quilts, she found them A bundle of envelopes,
edges worn, addressed to her in Nate's bold handwriting. Her
heart pounded as she opened one, the paper crinkling. Ellie,
I'm sorry I didn't follow the garden's called, but you're
my roots. I love you always will. Please write back.
Each letter echoed the same love, regret, hope. Tears blurred

(16:32):
her vision as she read the words, melting three years
of pain. Lily's jealousy cut deep, but Nate's truth was
a steady breeze, rekindling her trust. She found him in
the greenhouse, pruning roses, its glow casting soft shadows. I
found them, she said, holding up the letters, her voice trembling.
Nate's eyes widened and he stepped closer, his breath catching.

(16:55):
What did they say? He asked, his voice low, That
you loved me, she said, her throat tight, that you
never forgot. She handed him a letter and he read
it silently, his jaw clenching. Lily told me you moved on,
he said, I thought I was doing right by letting
you go, she lied. Ellie whispered, I waited for you.

(17:16):
The admission hung between them, heavy with lost years. Nate
reached for her hand, his touch warm and steady. I'm
here now, Ellie, I'm not leaving again. She didn't pull away,
letting his words guide her doubts, her heart lighting toward forgiveness.
Chapter eleven, The Bluff's Light. The estate hummed with quiet
energy as Ellye and Nate prepared for the garden's grand opening.

(17:38):
Hauling soil and bulbs up the bluff path. Their hands
moved in sink brushing as they planted roses, The rhythm
a steady beat against the coastal wind. Ellie's fingers grazed
Nate's as they set a bulb, and a spark shot
through her warm and undeniable. I was so lost, she admitted,
pausing her trowel. But I missed you, Nate, every day,

(17:59):
he said, a tool down, his blue eyes, soft but intense.
I missed you too, every pruning session on these bluffs.
I saw you in the roses. He stepped closer, the
space between them shrinking. I love you, Ellie, I never stopped.
Her breath caught the weight of three years, fatting under
his gaze. She wanted to guard her heart, but his
truth burned through her doubts. They climbed to the turret.

(18:22):
The Pacific spread below like a shimmering canvas under the
restored windows. Ellie kissed him, her lips meeting his with
a warmth that felt like home. His arms wrapped around her,
steady and sure, and the breeze swept the bluff, echoing
their pulse. I love you too, she whispered, the words
of Beacon binding them. They sat on the turret ledge,
planning the estate's future gardens, workshops, a hub for Cliffside's spirit.

(18:46):
Nate's hands stayed in hers, a vow of partnership. For
the first time, Ellie saw not just the estate's survival,
but a life with him, radiant and strong. Chapter twelve,
The Breeze's Promise. Weeks later, the Harper Estate thrived, with
new gardens, its roses blooming along the bluff, a testament
to Cliffside's enduring spirit. The turret buzzed with visitors, children

(19:10):
exploring the path's local sharing tailies. The council had secured
its status as a historic site, save from Marcus's plans
and tourists flocked to the restored estate. Ellie stood in
the greenhouse watching a boy water arose, his smile mirroring
her mother. The sight warmed her. Her mother's legacy was alive.
Nate joined her, his flannel dusted with soil, his smile soft.

(19:32):
It's beautiful, isn't it, he said, his arm brushing hers.
She leaned into him, nodding better than I dreamed. They
walked to the bluffs, the Pacific spread below like a
silver sea. Together, they lit a lantern at the edge,
the hands getting the wick into a flame that danced
with the breeze. Each flicker felt like a promise, their
love glowing in every gust. As the sunset broke, casting

(19:54):
an orange hue over Cliffside, Ellie turned to Nate, What now,
she asked, her voice. He took her hand, his smile warm.
We keep growing together. Cliffside embraced them, not just a town,
but a vow of forever, their lover, a breeze that
held it all together.