Hope Harbor

by Jill Sanders

  She nodded again. “I’m hoping that by that time you can start on the rest of the list; my family will be out.” She closed her eyes and he could see her entire body tense.

  “Problems?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

  “They’re contesting Reggie’s will,” she blurted out.

  He set his mug down. “Do they have a chance of winning?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Jon says Reggie’s last five wills all said basically the same thing. For the past ten years, he’s been planning to leave me the place. This last will, he removed Roger completely, preventing him from getting a dime. The previous revisions had removed my mother, my uncle Gerald and his family, and… everyone else. The only one who received anything was my great-aunt Romana, to ensure she always had a place at the inn.”

  “Ouch,” he said shoving a cracker in his mouth. After swallowing it, he asked, “Did anyone get anything?”

  She shrugged. “Knickknacks and trinkets.” She laughed. “Pocket knives and wristwatches.” She shook her head. “Reggie really did know how to make a stand, even if he could only do it after his death.”

  He surprised himself by laughing. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat.

  She smiled. “No, it is funny. Watching my family as Jon read the will… It was one of the best paybacks Reggie could have ever given.” She sighed and glanced off over the water. His eyes followed hers.

  He loved this place. It had been the first one he’d seen on the island and, after one look at it, he hadn’t needed to look any further. The small channel that sat behind the property was pretty but not close enough to be an issue with a small child. It was the only house for close to a quarter of a mile, giving the place a feeling of seclusion, yet it was only five minutes outside of town.

  The first year after moving in, he and his dad had done all the major overhauling the property had needed. The couple who’d owned it before had neglected it enough that simple TLC wasn’t enough.

  New floors to new roof, the place had quickly become his. His and Palmer’s.

  He could tell there was still something eating at Eve but didn’t want to push her. She surprised him by turning to him and nodding towards the inside of the house.

  “I think I hear Palmer,” she said with a frown.

  He jumped up, almost spilling his half-empty mug in the process.

  Rushing to his daughter’s bedside, he was just in time to have her spit up on the last clean shirt he owned.

  “Sorry, Daddy,” she cried, holding onto him.

  “It’s okay, baby.” He ran his hands over her hair. He’d pushed her to drink too much Pedialyte, which was now all over his shirt. He’d been so afraid of all the fluids she’d lost. Still, her temperature had gone down and now, as he ran his hand over her forehead, he thought her fever had officially broken. She was bathed in sweat, and her Toy Story nightgown stuck to her little body.

  “How about a shower?” he asked, picking her up.

  Palmer nodded her head and leaned it against his bare shoulder. He tossed his soiled shirt into the bin with the towels he’d used to sop up the rest of the mess from last night.

  “Is that Eve?” Palmer asked, lifting her head.

  “Hi, sweetie.” Eve stepped in the back door.

  “Hi.” Palmer’s eyes grew brighter for the first time since she’d come home from school early yesterday.

  “I heard you were sick.” She walked over and handed his daughter the plush toy. “I brought you this to help you feel better.”

  “A fish?” His daughter frowned down at the whale.

  “It’s a killer whale, also known as…” Eve leaned closer and whispered, “Orcinus or…” Eve smiled. “An orca.”

  Palmer perked up. “Like where we live?”

  Eve nodded. “Have you ever seen any in the water when your dad takes you out on the sailboat?”

  Palmer shook her head quickly and looked down at the toy. “Are they really black and white?”

  “Yes, they are.” Eve ran her hand over Palmer’s hair. “I’m going to go now so you and your daddy can clean up. Get better okay?”

  “Okay,” Palmer said, still looking down at the toy. When Eve moved to go, she called out, “Can I come visit you? Up at the hotel?”

  Eve smiled. “Anytime, kiddo.” Eve’s eyes met his and, for a moment, her smile slipped. Then she turned and disappeared out his front door.

  “She looked sad,” Palmer said, resting her head back on his shoulder.

  “She was tired, just like you.” He pulled off her soaked nightgown and then removed his soiled jeans. Killing two birds with one stone, he stepped under the warm spray, still holding onto his daughter. When she shivered against his chest, he turned the hot water up slightly.

  “It’s cold, Daddy,” she complained, her teeth chattering as she clung to him.

  “I know, honey.” He sighed. The truth was it wasn’t. Which meant the fever wasn’t completely gone yet.

  Sitting on the bench, he shampooed her hair carefully, until she fell asleep in his arms. Then he wrapped a towel around her and himself. He slipped another clean nightgown on his daughter and pulled his last pair of sweats on. He carried her to the sofa where he watched the rest of the game as his daughter’s fevered body heated his own.

  When he woke, he jerked awake, feeling chilled. Instantly, he realized Palmer was missing.

  “Palmer?” he called out.

  “In the bathroom, Daddy.”

  He moved quickly. “Are you sick again?” he asked, feeling the room spin slightly.

  “No, just had to tinkle.” He heard the toilet flush, then she came out.

  “Wash your hands,” he said automatically as he closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. “Damn.” He groaned. Now it was his turn. He could feel the aches and chills already starting.

  “Daddy?” Palmer’s voice was right in front of him, yet if he dared open his eyes, he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the toilet. Shit.

  “Honey, go get the bucket.” He groaned. He’d set a five-gallon paint bucket next to her bed, which she hadn’t used once, instead choosing him as a target each time she’d lost it.

  He was happily surprised when the bucket appeared between his legs just in time.

  Small fingers ran through his hair as he emptied the cheese, crackers, and coffee he’d had when Eve had been there.

  Double damn. He sighed and wiped his mouth.

  “You’re sick, Daddy.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed and leaned back, pushing the bucket away.

  “Should I call Grandpa?” Palmer held up his cell phone.

  “No, honey, I can…” He reached for the bucket again and closed his eyes as whatever else he’d eaten last night emptied into it. Shit. He felt his head spin and vaguely wondered what would happen to Palmer if he died of the flu.

  His dad. He sighed with relief. At least he had his father.

  The dog whined as it rolled up and lay by his feet.

  His dad had been heading out on a fishing trip with a few buddies after he’d picked Palmer up from school. Which is why Dylan was stuck watching Cooper in the first place.

  “Honey, can you let the dog out. I think he needs to do his business. Stand at the back door and watch him. Don’t go outside, okay?” he asked, knowing that if he stood up, he’d probably pass out.

  He listened as his daughter opened the heavy sliding door and told Cooper to go potty. The dog obeyed and he glanced up to make sure his daughter stayed in the house.

  At some point, it had grown dark outside. Shit. They’d slept the entire day away.

  “Daddy, your phone is ringing.” He registered his daughter’s voice through the buzzing in his head. He was about to tell her to ignore it when he heard her answer it instead.

  “No, he’s trowing up in the bucket,” his daughter said. “No, I’m much better. I’m hungry, but I don’t think my daddy can make me mac and cheese right now. Okay, yes,” he heard her replying.
“Okay. Thanks.”

  “Who was that?” he asked, holding in a groan as the dog rushed back into the house. He heard his daughter shut the back door before answering.

  “Eve. She says she’s going to bring me some mac and cheese and come check up on you.”

  He rolled his eyes. Damn, he hadn’t gotten a chance to clean up. If anything, the place was messier than when she’d stopped by earlier that day.

  Still, his body started shaking and he had to lay back down and pull the thick blanket over him until the chills passed.

  “Daddy?” His daughter’s voice was right by his ear, telling him that he’d fallen asleep for a while. “Eve’s here. Can I open the door?”

  “Make sure it’s her. Look out the window.”

  “I did that already,” Palmer said in a tone that told him she didn’t appreciate being treated like a child.

  “Okay,” he said and rolled over to cover his head with the blanket.

  He must have fallen back asleep again. When he woke, it was to sounds of cartoons and giggles.

  He poked his head out from under the blanket. The first thing he noticed was that his house was clean. Very clean. Even the basket of dirty clothes he hadn’t had time to wash was gone. So was his puke bucket, which, he realized after assessing himself, he thankfully no longer needed.

  He glanced around and spotted Eve holding his daughter as they watched cartoons, laughing at the screen together.

  “This is my favorite part,” Palmer told Eve. He watched as the pair listened to the joke, then burst out giggling as quietly as they could.

  “Shh,” Eve said smiling. “We don’t want to wake your daddy.”

  “Too late.” He groaned and sat up, running his hands through his hair and over his face. He was in desperate need of both a haircut and a shave at this point.

  “How are you feeling?” Eve asked.

  “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around again. Yup, his place was spotless. “You didn’t have to clean.”

  Eve smiled. “I had help.” She nodded to Palmer.

  “I’m sorry I got you sick.” His daughter carefully climbed off Eve’s lap and moved over to him to touch his forehead gently, mimicking what he’d done to her more than a hundred times in the past day.

  “You feel sticky.” She pulled her hand away and frowned.

  He smiled. “That means the fever has broken.” He rolled his shoulders and realized most of the aches were gone as well.

  “Eve brought us mac and cheese and cookies.” Palmer did a little dance. “She told me I could have the cookies when you woke up. To make sure they didn’t get me sick.”

  He chuckled then nodded. “Go ahead.” He glanced over at Eve, who was watching him closely.

  “You know where they are,” Eve told Palmer. “One for now. Okay?”

  Without answering, Palmer raced to the kitchen. They heard a chair scrape on the floor as his daughter climbed up to reach the counter.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”

  Eve unfolded her legs and stood. “It was the least I could do.” She smiled, her eyes moving over his chest.

  He was once again half-naked around her. But, seeing the heat flood her eyes, he didn’t mind. What mattered to him, however, was that he was covered in sweat and probably smelled like puke.

  “I…I’m going to go shower,” he said, standing up slowly. When he wavered, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Easy,” she said softly.

  Her sexy scent flooded his senses, making him almost sway again just so she’d hold onto him longer. But he had an idea of what he smelled like and dropped his arms.

  “Thanks, I’ve got it.” He sighed. “Thank you again for… everything.” He looked around and felt instantly guilty for all the work she’d had to do to clean up the mess.

  “Any time.” She smiled. “Will you be okay?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “The worst of it’s over now.”

  “If you need anything else…” She sighed and turned to go. “Oh, I… um, I’m heading into Seattle tomorrow to get the rest of my things. I can postpone…”

  “No, we’re fine, really.” He nodded. “Go, drive safe,” he added.

  She smiled. “Night.”

  He followed her to the door and opened it for her, holding back Cooper as he rushed to say goodbye to her.

  “Bye, buddy.” She scratched the dog’s head. “Goodnight,” she said again.

  “Goodnight.”

  “Thank you, Eve.” Palmer rushed into the room, chocolate covering her face with two cookies in her hands.

  “Night.” Eve’s smile doubled, and her eyes lit up. “You watch out for your daddy like he watched out for you. Okay?”

  Palmer nodded and shoved a cookie into her mouth.

  “Have a safe trip,” he added before she turned and walked down the pathway. Damn, another time he would have held onto her and made sure she hadn’t left. Not without exploring the looks she’d been giving him. Not without showing her what those looks had done to him. But his body was weak, and he ached and itched for a shower and maybe some of the mac and cheese.

  Shutting the door, he turned back to his daughter just in time to watch her shove the other cookie in her mouth. He laughed and picked her up, hugging her to his chest, holding on tight to the best thing he’d ever been given.

  10

  A trip to hell

  She packed her car with only a small overnight bag, knowing that she’d be back to the inn by the following day. She planned to dump most of her unwanted things at a local women’s shelter. Going through her grandfather’s things had made one thing clear to her—she could live without more than half of the things in her apartment.

  After all, most of it was items she’d accumulated when she’d been married to Brent. She didn’t want to bring those memories with her; she planned on starting over completely.

  She’d left instructions with all the staff to call her if they had any questions or problems. She informed the heads of every department that Dylan would be starting work on Monday morning.

  She’d blocked out the rooms where he needed to start to ensure that there were no other mix-ups like she’d had with Mr. Strommen.

  She’d run into the man in the hallway as she left, her small backpack tossed over her shoulder.

  “Leaving already?” he asked, his tone sarcastic.

  “Just a day trip,” she assured him. “I hope you’re finding the suite acceptable?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her and, without answering, continued on his way. A man of many words, she thought to herself as she left. As she drove by Dylan’s place, she noticed that his truck was missing. Apparently, he felt well enough to be out and about.

  Thoughts of Dylan filled her mind during the three-and-a-half-hour drive. Him and his daughter. She’d had so much fun watching Palmer while Dylan had slept on the sofa. She hadn’t planned on cleaning his place, but Palmer had wanted some milk and there hadn’t been a clean dish in his house. They had worked together, her washing the dishes while Palmer dried them as best as she could. Of course, Eve had had to help her put everything away quietly.

  Palmer had shown Eve her room, and Eve had felt another sharp sting of what she’d missed as a child. Sure, she’d had a room, but she’d never had it filled with things. Pictures that the little girl had painted and drawn were pinned on every wall.

  “You are an amazing artist,” she’d told Palmer. “Is that what you want to be when you grow up?” she’d asked.

  “Yes.” Palmer had giggled. “Daddy says I can be whatever I want.”

  Eve’s heart had skipped in her chest again. What would it have been like to have a parent believe you could do anything you set your mind to? Then she remembered Reggie and softened.

  She hadn’t lied to the girl. She had some serious talent. Some of the art was abstract. The bright colors allowed Eve’s imagination to wander and twist a tale for each one.
Then she’d spotted the oil painting and had stilled.

  The white sailboat floated on the dark water and white clouds hovered in the background. It was… spectacular.

  “You did this?” she’d asked Palmer. The little girl had looked shy suddenly. “It’s from a picture.”

  “But you painted it?” She moved closer to the canvas sitting on an easel.

  “Daddy bought me paints.” Palmer moved closer and frowned. “I don’t have the hang of it yet. Not like my watercolors.” The girl rushed over to a set of large flat drawers and shifted through some large papers. “Here, this one is my favorite.” She held up a butterfly. It was good but didn’t speak to Eve as much as the boat had.

  She’d planned on talking to Dylan about purchasing the painting from him but had gotten so distracted by his bare chest when he’d woken, she’d forgotten. Who wouldn’t be? He’d been all sweaty, as if he’d just worked out. Of course, she’d felt bad, knowing he’d just come down from a fever, but still, she had imagined he’d just been lifting weights. Heavy ones. Which had turned her mind to total mush for the rest of the night.

  Pulling into her parking spot at her old apartment, she shut off her car and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She hated being back in the city. The possibility of running into anyone she knew here was slim, but still, it was possible.

  She figured she could clear out her place that evening and be back on the road first thing in the morning. She’d already given notice at her apartment and had left work without a word. She no longer cared what they thought of her at the firm. She knew Brent was going to spread whatever rumors he wanted about her anyway.

  Using her keys, she grabbed her mail and headed up to the sixth floor to her old place. She would have tossed the mail down unnoticed, but a large envelope caught her attention. She had never really received mail there, outside of bills and junk.

  Sitting down at the table, she ripped it open and less than a minute later she had Jon Barber on the phone.