About Steve and Stacy
Steve’s from Southern California. Stacy’s from Texas. Which means: she says “y’all,” he says “dude.” Different maps, different accents, same stubborn grit. Somehow, they met in the middle, built a family with four kids (yes, four—don’t even ask about car rides), added two doodles who think they’re human, and wound up right here: Cape Charles, Virginia.
But this isn’t a glossy real-estate brochure. Over the years, Steve and Stacy have walked into more than 300 houses that other people had given up on—dated bathrooms, peeling paint, weary siding—and turned them into something families could be proud of again.
That same spirit shapes their Cape Charles rentals. These homes aren’t just listings; they’re living, breathing extensions of what they’ve always done: take something ordinary, overlooked, or tired, and make it extraordinary. The result? Spaces that aren’t just for sleeping, but for stories—porch laughs at sunset, kids racing to the beach, dogs chasing gulls like they own the place.
If you ask Steve and Stacy why they do it, the answer is simple: Because details matter. Because family matters. Because time—your time—is worth protecting. This isn’t just real estate. It isn’t just vacation rentals. It’s a promise: to treat every property, every project, and every guest like it matters. Because it does.
Welcome to our story. Now, come write yours here in Cape Charles.
About Cape Charles
Cape Charles: A Story Carved by Rails, Water, and Community
Cape Charles was born of vision and purpose—plotted on the southern tip of Virginia’s Eastern Shore in 1884, not as a sleepy farming hamlet but as a gateway. The New York, Philadelphia & Norfolk Railroad envisioned a southern terminus, a place where rails would meet the wide Chesapeake Bay. They bought land from the Kellam plantation, drafted perfect grids of streets, and gave the town the name of the distant headland nearby: Cape Charles.
From the start, this town was about connection—where coastal produce, oysters, timber, and travelers met trains and steamboats bound across the bay. It arrived fully formed: factories and warehouses lining the tracks, grand hotels overlooking the water, a downtown styled with Victorian flair, and families building neighborhoods with wide porches and hopeful hearts.
Yet, progress shifted. In 1964, the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel drew cars across the water, leaving behind the steam ferries that had defined Cape Charles’s lifeblood. When train traffic faded, the wharves quieted, and homes that once bustled sat dormant.
Still, the spirit of Cape Charles never faded. In recent decades, newcomers—artists, entrepreneurs, dreamers—pressed into the deep porches, restored the old homes, reopened the shops, and reclaimed the heritage. Streetlights glow turquoise at dusk. Galleries showcase local craft. The Historic District carries that patina of time, now protected on the National Register. Families walk to the wide sandy beach. Golf carts hum past oysters being shucked, and sailboats drift where ferries once docked.
Today, Cape Charles stands renewed yet familiar. It is a town shaped by rail and water, by decline and revival—and now reborn as a coastal haven that blends history with hospitality.