by Sophie Moss
He smiled. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
She eyed the package tucked under his arm. “What’s that?”
“A present for Taylor.” He looked past her, into the café. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs.” Annie stepped back so he could walk inside. She didn’t like the idea of him bringing Taylor gifts, especially not so soon. His dress shoes clicked over the tiles, echoing through the empty room. Closing the door, she headed back to the foot of the stairs leading up to the apartment. The sooner they could get this over with, the better.
“Taylor,” she called out. “Blake’s here.”
Blake continued to circle the room, taking in the photographs of watermen and workboats, the seashells woven into the netting strung across the wall, the rustic chalkboard listing the day’s specials. He said nothing, but she could feel his disapproval stretching out in the silence between them.
She glanced up when Taylor started down the steps. She’d warned Blake about Taylor’s broom the night before, but seeing her with it now only reminded her how vulnerable her daughter still was. No matter what happened, she would not let Blake hurt her.
Taylor paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking uncertainly at Blake.
Blake smiled. “You must be Taylor.”
She nodded, leaning against Annie.
Annie put her arm around Taylor’s shoulders.
Blake walked across the room to where she stood, holding out his hand.
Taylor took it awkwardly.
“I’m so glad your mom agreed to let us meet.”
Taylor pulled her hand free, looking back up at Annie.
Annie squeezed her shoulder. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“I’ll see if we have any bagels left.” Annie guided her toward the closest bar stool, helping her climb up onto the seat. “What kind do you want?”
“Blueberry,” Taylor said, keeping a close eye on Blake as he slid onto the stool beside her.
“So,” Blake said, reaching for the cream cheese after Annie had spread everything out on the counter. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”
Taylor picked at her bagel, putting a small piece in her mouth.
Unfazed by her guardedness, Blake slathered cream cheese over both halves of his bagel. “It must be nice to live above a café. Do you get to sample the desserts?”
Taylor shrugged. “Sometimes.”
He nodded toward the chalkboard, which listed Della’s sweets along with the rest of her specials. “Which one’s your favorite?”
“It’s not on there.”
“Why not?”
“Because Della doesn’t make it.”
“Who makes it?”
Taylor looked at Annie.
Blake lifted an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”
Annie added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee. “Turns out, I have a knack for making hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate?” Blake’s lips curved. “That’s my favorite, too.”
Taylor’s gaze flickered up. He’d finally caught her attention. “It is?”
Unbelievable, Annie thought. Taylor could have said anything and Blake would have said it was his favorite, too. Had he always been this see-through? Probably. She’d just been too young to realize it before.
Blake leaned toward Taylor conspiratorially. “What do you think my chances are of getting your mom to make me a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Zero.” Annie slid a mug of black coffee across the counter to him. “This is as close as you’re going to get.”
Blake picked up the coffee, winking at her.
Annie sent him a withering look. She’d underestimated how thick he would lay on the charm this morning. She should have done more to prepare Taylor so she wouldn’t get caught up in it.
Blake turned back to Taylor. “Would you like to open your present now?”
Taylor paused, her bagel halfway to her mouth. “You brought me a present?”
Blake nodded, handing her the package.
Taylor set her bagel down and reached for the gift.
“Open it,” he urged.
She peeled off the wrapping and stared at the object inside.
Blake waited a few beats. “Do you like it?”
“It’s a doll,” Taylor said.
“That’s right.”
Taylor lifted the plastic box with the doll inside and set it on the counter.
Annie bit back a smile. The doll was wearing a green velvet gown and a tiara. She had long red hair and carried a sparkly wand.
“I thought it looked like your mom,” Blake ventured.
Taylor continued to stare at the doll for several long minutes. “It doesn’t look like my mom.”
“They have the same color hair,” Blake said.
Taylor looked up at Annie, then back at the doll. Frowning, she started to open the box.
“Wait,” Blake said.
Taylor paused. “What?”
“It’s a Collector’s Edition.”
She blinked up at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means it’ll be worth more later, if you don’t open it.”
“You gave me a doll I can’t play with?”
Blake looked helplessly at Annie, then back at Taylor. “I guess you can open it.”
Taylor tore into the box, pulling the doll out. She studied her from several different angles, then carefully pried the tiara off her head. She slid the wand out of her hand and pushed both objects across the counter to Annie. “We could make a wind chime with these.”
Blake gaped at Taylor when she laid the doll back in the box and pushed it aside. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t like dolls,” Taylor said simply.
“But I thought all girls played with dolls.”
Taylor shook her head, climbing down from the stool. “Mom, can we go watch the sunrise at the marina?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
Taylor walked over to the hook by the door to get her coat.
Annie smiled at Blake. “I think that went well.”
Will didn’t usually do goodbyes, but he wanted to catch Della before she headed to the café for the day. She’d left over a dozen messages on his voicemail asking him to give Annie a chance to explain. He knew his aunt meant well, but there was nothing she could say to change his mind now.
He’d said goodbye to Becca and Ryan last night. He’d asked Ryan to pass on a message to Grace—that he would try harder to stay in touch this time. But he honestly didn’t know if that was true. It might be easier to cut them all off again. Start fresh. Put the past few weeks behind him.
The first hints of sunrise broke over the horizon as he passed the marina, where a few watermen were preparing their boats to head out for the day. In the passenger seat, Riley pressed her nose to the glass, whimpering. He tried not to think about the fact that this would be their last drive together. Glancing out the window to see what had caught her attention, he swallowed, hard, when he saw Annie and Taylor turning the corner to the marina.
What were they doing up so early?
Riley craned her neck to keep her eyes on them as Will drove past. In his rear view mirror, he caught a glimpse of Blake crossing the street to catch up with them. His muscles clenched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he turned onto Della’s road. If there’d been even a shred of doubt left in his mind that Annie had planned this, it was gone now.
The first woman he’d let himself fall for in over ten years, and she’d played him. He shook his head, pulling to the curb outside his aunt’s house. Screw it. In twelve hours he’d be at the airport, boarding a flight back to San Diego. He wouldn’t have to see her or think about her ever again.
Cutting the engine, he stepped out of the SUV and held the door open for Riley to jump out. Her paws had barely grazed the pavement when the first gunshot went off. It tore through the quiet morning, echoing over the water. Geese honked frantically, beating their w
ings against the surface as they took off, flying away from the sound.
A block away, he heard Annie yell, “Taylor, wait! Stop!”
A second shot rang out, followed by an explosion of rapid fire and Will slammed the door. “Riley,” he called as he took off, cutting through Della’s yard to the marina. The dog ran ahead of him, racing over the fallen leaves and crushed oyster shells.
The shots were behind him now, coming from the mainland. He rounded the neighbor’s shed, getting a clear view of the marina across the parking lot of Rusty’s where Taylor was struggling with Blake.
Blake had one hand on her broom, the other fisted in her jacket, trying to stop her from running away. Taylor jerked free, hesitating for only a split second when she realized he wasn’t going to let go of her broom.
Another shot went off and Taylor released her hold on the handle, sprinting toward the marshes.
Will cursed when she slipped through a small tear in a metal fence one of the local conservation groups had put up to protect the wetlands.
“Taylor!” Annie shouted, already climbing the fence to go after her.
Blake stood frozen in the parking lot, holding onto Taylor’s broom.
Will ran past him, catching Annie’s hand and pulling her back to the ground. “Find Joe and tell him to go to the Fosters’ farm and get the hunters to stop. There’s a blind on the south side of the property. He’ll know where it is.”
Annie’s gaze darted back to where Taylor had vanished into the tall grasses.
“Annie,” he ordered as Riley scrambled through the hole in the fence after Taylor. “Go find Joe. Now.”
With one last look at the wetlands, she took off across the parking lot to Della and Joe’s house.
Will climbed the fence, landing easily on the other side. Tim Foster wasn’t going to be happy when Joe told him to stop shooting, but Will would deal with the hunters later. He could hear Riley barking in the distance as he tracked Taylor’s footprints across the soggy stretch of land.
The first rays of sunlight streaked over the water, lighting the marshes on fire. The sky was filled with the call of geese and the rattle of gunfire. When he spotted an old wooden rowboat with a tarp thrown over it, he slowed.
“Good girl,” he murmured to Riley who was sniffing at the edge of the tarp. His boots sank into the shallow water as he made his way to the side of the boat.
“Taylor,” he said softly. “It’s Will.”
He could hear a small sound—a child’s strangled breathing coming from inside the boat. He kept his voice low and soothing as he reached for the edge of the tarp. “I’m going to pull the cover back slowly to make sure you’re okay. Riley’s with me. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The sight that greeted his eyes when he lifted the corner of the tarp had his heart twisting painfully. Taylor was cowered at the bow, her whole body trembling as she clung to the rotted bench seat.
He resisted the urge to reach for her, to simply haul her out of the boat and into his arms. He didn’t want to frighten her. She needed to come out of this on her own. “Taylor, it’s me,” he said gently. “It’s Will.”
She turned her head away from him, her eyes squeezed shut as her body shook from both fear and cold.
Riley crept closer to the boat, whimpering.
On a hunch, Will lifted the dog up, setting her inside the boat. “Look,” he said. “Look who came to see you.”
Riley bowed her head, her ears flattened in submission.
Another round of gunshots rumbled over the water and Taylor shrank back. Riley inched toward her, until she was leaning against her, her entire body curled around Taylor protectively.
Taylor lifted her hand slowly, twisting her fingers into Riley’s fur.
“That’s it,” Will whispered brokenly. “You’re safe now.”
Taylor lifted her other arm, wrapping it around Riley’s neck.
“The shots you hear—they’re from the hunters,” Will explained. “The ones we talked about when we were out on Ryan’s boat. Remember?”
“Make them stop,” Taylor whispered.
Her shattered voice sliced all the way through him and he reached for her. Pulling her into his arms, he cradled her against his chest. “Remember when the fireworks went off on Halloween and you found me? You brought me back, Taylor. Let me bring you back this time.”
They were still in the same position—Will kneeling in the frigid water, Taylor clinging to him—when Annie and Della found them a few minutes later. He slowly untangled Taylor’s arms from around his neck, nudging her toward her mom.
Annie held onto her daughter for a long time, unable to speak. When she finally eased back, she spent the next several minutes checking every inch of Taylor’s body to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Will rose, walking over to where his aunt was standing. Della was still trying to catch her breath from the sprint.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Joe should be at Tim’s by now.”
Will looked back out at the water. The gunshots had stopped a few minutes ago. The only sound now was the wind whistling through the marsh grasses and the occasional cry of a hawk overhead.
Finally satisfied that Taylor was still in one piece, Annie stood and walked slowly over to them. Her clothes were covered in mud. The front of her jeans were wet from where she’d been kneeling in the wetlands. He could tell she was fighting back tears.
The need to pull her into his arms was so strong, he had to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. But when Taylor’s small fingers brushed against his, he didn’t think twice. He lifted her up, settling her against his chest. “Come on,” he said as she buried her face in his shirt. “Let’s get you home.”
Numb, Annie walked down the stairs to the café an hour later. She’d given Taylor a bath, thrown all their dirty clothes in the laundry, and scrubbed the mud off Riley—who refused to leave Taylor’s side now. The two of them were curled up on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.
Blake had driven back to his hotel in St. Michaels after making up some excuse about having an important business call at seven o’clock. He hadn’t been able to get away fast enough.
Not that she was sad to see him go.
Crossing the dining room to the kitchen, where Della had insisted she would be in case Annie or Taylor needed her, Annie wasn’t surprised to find Will in there, too. Despite how he felt about her now, he wouldn’t leave until he knew Taylor was okay.
That was the difference between a man of honor and one who didn’t care about anyone but himself.
“How is she?” Will asked as soon as he saw her.
“She’s better. I think…” Annie trailed off when Della turned her face away, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Della?”
“I’m sorry,” Della whispered, pushing out the back door.
“What’s going on?” Annie asked, alarmed.
“She’ll be fine.” Will walked over to the stove to turn off the burner beneath the soup pot. “Does Taylor need anything?”
Annie shook her head, but a wave of uneasiness swept through her as she watched Della walk down to the dock. “I’m going to keep her home from school today so I’ll be with her if she does.”
Will turned to face her. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. She was about as far away from fine as a person could be, but she knew he was only being polite. He hadn’t hung around for the past hour to check on her. He’d stayed to check on Taylor.
Now that he knew she was okay, he’d probably want to be on his way.
“I couldn’t get Riley to come downstairs with me,” Annie said. “Is it okay if I bring her back later?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Will dipped his hands in his pockets. “I’ll tell Ryan she’s here.”
Annie nodded, wishing she knew what to say. She wanted to thank him for what he’d done that morning, but how did you thank a man for earning your daughter’s trust? For takin
g charge of a situation that should never have been his problem in the first place? For putting aside his feelings without a second thought to be there for a little girl who wasn’t even his?
“Will,” she said finally. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there today.”
“You would have managed,” he said quietly. “You don’t need anyone’s help, Annie. Not even mine.”
Annie drew in a breath. But she did need his help. For the first time in her life she had someone she could count on, someone she could trust. She’d been on her own for so long, she’d hadn’t realized what she’d been missing until now. “You knew Riley would find her.”
Will nodded.
“I’m going to get her a dog,” she said, knowing the longer she kept talking, the longer he would stay. “Maybe an older one from the shelter, one that’s already been housebroken. I’ll probably end up regretting it, but I’ve seen what Riley has done for her. I can’t take that away from her now.”
“I’m sure she’d like that.”
Silence fell between them again and Annie looked back out the window, where Della was standing at the edge of the dock dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Will, please tell me why Della is crying.”
“I told her something she didn’t want to hear.”
Annie’s gaze swung back to his. She didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Will lifted a shoulder. “I got a call from my CO about fifteen minutes ago. I need to get back to San Diego. My team ships out in forty-eight hours.”
“Forty-eight hours?” Annie felt all the breath whoosh out of her lungs. “But that’s only two days from now.”
Will nodded.
“I thought you had over a week left on the island?”
“Things change,” he said simply.
“But…when are you leaving? Tomorrow?”
“This afternoon.”
She felt a rush of panic. “This afternoon?”
He started for the door. “I have to get ready, settle some things back at the inn.”
She reached for the counter to steady herself. He couldn’t leave. He hadn’t even given her a chance to explain yet. “Will, wait.”
