Davy regarded her for several seconds then nodded. “You have a train in the garage,” he said. “I saw Uncle Mason. He arrested Uncle Palmer.”
Hilary gasped and looked to Bree. Bree nodded and made a shushing motion.
“That’s right,” Hilary said. “You and Uncle Mason put the train together.”
Davy twisted in Hilary’s arms, and he looked through the crowd until his gaze found his mother. “Mommy,” he called.
Bree knew she would never tire of hearing that word. She went to him, and he reached for her. She pulled him close, and he wrapped his legs around her and put his head on her shoulder.
“I’m tired, Mommy,” he said.
“We’ll go home soon,” she promised. Home. Their lighthouse would be a real home again. The thought brought tears flooding back to Bree’s eyes. Though she hated to let go of Davy, she passed him to Naomi and asked her to take him into the store to see if he needed to potty. Quickly she told Hilary and Anu how she’d found Davy.
“Mason has taken Palmer into custody. He killed Fay.” She paused. “And Rob.”
Hilary gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Her wide eyes filled with horror. “What are you saying?” she whispered. Beside her, Anu swayed, and Hilary put an arm around her mother.
“Palmer found gold in the mine.” Bree quickly explained Palmer’s schemes.
“Poor Lily,” Anu murmured.
The women fell silent. The past months of wrestling with Rob’s infidelity had given Bree a taste of what Lily would go through, except Bree had been fortunate to discover her husband really was the honorable man she’d married. Lily would have no such comfort.
Naomi brought Davy back outside, and the family and townspeople milled around, talking and rejoicing with them.
The crowd finally began to disperse, and Bree was ready to head back to the house when Mason showed up. He got out of the vehicle the grimness around his mouth easing when he saw Bree with Davy in her arms. “This makes everything worthwhile.” He took Davy in his arms, and the little boy patted his face. Mason’s eyes welled up with tears.
“What about Palmer?”
Mason handed Davy back to Bree. “In jail and in shock. I hate to have to tell Lily,” he said in a low voice. “I need to find out what this woman knows,” he nodded toward Rachel.
“I was just heading home. You can question her there.”
While the happy reunions were going on, Rachel Marks had sat motionless in the backseat of the Jeep. Her stony face stared straight ahead, but Bree was sure the woman wasn’t as stoic as she seemed. She’d seen the emotion in Rachel’s face when she proclaimed her love for Davy.
Kade moved to Bree’s side. “Davy’s tired, and you’re exhausted,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”
“Come with me?” she whispered. He nodded and pressed her hand. She felt the promise in it. The future seemed as bright as the sun bouncing off Lake Superior.
Naomi kissed Bree on the cheek. “Just drop me by my place. I want to tell Mother and then call Donovan and the kids. Emily and Timmy will be so excited to know they can play with Davy anytime.”
They piled into the Jeep, and Mason followed in his SUV. Bree dropped Naomi off at the Blue Bonnet then parked in front of the lighthouse. Exhausted from the day, Davy had fallen asleep again, so Bree carried him, eagerly guarded by Samson, up the stairs to his room.
“I’m making coffee,” Kade called up after her.
She was so glad he’d come with her. She needed him here, and he’d sensed it. Standing at the door to Davy’s room, she realized the room was stripped of his possessions, so she carried him to her bed. She would restore his room before he awakened.
Rachel and Mason were in the parlor when she went downstairs. Rachel stood against one wall with her hands behind her. She pressed herself against the plaster as though she wished she could sink right into it, and Bree felt a twinge of pity for the woman.
“The coffee will be ready in a few minutes,” Kade said. He came to stand behind her and put his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, thankful for his strength.
“Do you want to press charges?” Mason asked Bree.
What could Bree say to that? While she hated that the woman had kept her son from her, Bree was grateful she had saved Davy’s life.
Mason waited, and fear replaced the stoicism on Rachel’s face.
Bree shook her head. “I’m not going to press charges, Mason. Davy is alive. I can thank her for that. God must have sent her to him.”
Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes, and she dropped her head. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Mason nodded then questioned the woman about what she’d seen, scribbling notes. “I’m going to need an address where I can reach you when Palmer’s case comes to trial.”
Rachel gave him her brother’s address in Chicago. “Can I go now?” she asked.
Mason nodded. She walked to the foyer and looked longingly up the steps. “Could I see Sa—Davy, one more time?”
Bree hesitated and turned to look up into Kade’s eyes. “What could it hurt?” he said softly.
Davy was sleeping anyway. She reluctantly left the warmth of Kade’s arms to lead the way to her bedroom. Samson lay on the floor beside the bed, and Bree knew it would be many days before the dog let the little boy out of his sight.
Davy lay on her Ohio star quilt with one arm flung out to the side. It was a pose he’d adopted as an infant, and tears clogged Bree’s throat to see it again.
Rachel clutched the doorjamb as she watched the sleeping child for a few moments. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. “If he ever asks about me, would you tell him I love him very much? I wouldn’t want him to think I deserted him.”
Bree nodded. She touched Rachel’s arm. “Before you go—I want to thank you for burying my husband.” Her grieving for him would begin again, as it must. He hadn’t betrayed her, after all. It was going to be hard to forgive herself for the way she’d screamed at him, the accusations she’d flung.
“I knew the boy would want his father buried.”
“Thank you then from both of us,” Bree said. “And thank you for caring for my son.”
“You won’t forget to tell him what I said?” Rachel’s faded blue eyes swam with tears and a resignation that tugged at Bree’s sympathy.
“I’ll tell him,” Bree said. She escorted Rachel down the steps. “Mason, could you run her to the bus stop? It’s a long walk to Ontonagon.”
Mason nodded. “Let me get my coat.” He motioned for Bree to follow him to the living room.
Bree followed him. “What’s wrong?”
“You sure that was wise?” Mason asked.
“I couldn’t put the woman who saved Davy’s life in jail,” she said softly. “And I feel so bad for Lily and the girls. They’ll be devastated. I need to go to her.”
He pressed her arm. “You’ve got a little boy to enjoy right now. Give Lily a chance to absorb the blow. She might blame you at first.”
He rejoined Rachel in the entryway, and they left.
“It’s been quite a day,” Kade said. “Ready for some coffee?”
Bree followed him to the kitchen. The coffee aroma made her stomach rumble. “We haven’t eaten all day,” she said.
“I thought I’d whip us up something. You’re all done in.” He handed her a cup of coffee. She took a gulp, and the hot liquid began to warm the places that were still chilled.
“First, I need to make up Davy’s bed,” she said. “Unpack his things. I’d packed them all away.”
“I’ll help you,” Kade said. He carried the boxes to Davy’s room.
Bree took great joy in making Davy’s bed and putting away his toys while Kade hung the curtains back on the windows.
“I have something else I want to do,” Kade said. “Come with me.” He led her up the stairs to the light tower. The Fresnel lens glittered in the bright moonlight. “I came by with my electrical kit this morning, but you’d already left.
The door was unlocked, so I went ahead and hooked up the electricity to the light.” He reached over and flipped a switch.
Light flooded the tower then began to strobe out over the water. Bree let out a cry of delight. She turned to Kade and stepped into his arms.
“You light up everything around you just like this tower,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m thankful God brought you into my life.” His lips brushed hers in a feathery kiss full of promise.
Then his cell phone trilled.
He sighed and dug it out. “Hello.” He listened without interruption. “I’ll be right there,” he said. He clicked off the cell phone. “It’s Lauri. Her car died over by the high school. I’d better go get her.”
“Come by in the morning for breakfast.”
He smiled and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “You’re really something, Bree Nicholls.”
“So are you, Ranger Matthews.” She pressed her cheek against his hand. “See you tomorrow.”
“I’ll let myself out. The rest of the family will be descending any minute, so take advantage of your time with Davy.” He hugged her and quickly walked toward the steps. She followed him as far as the second-floor landing, then waved as he went on down to the front door.
Back in Davy’s room, Bree had just placed the last of his books on a shelf when she heard the patter of his feet down the hall. The click of Samson’s nails on the hardwood floor accompanied him.
“Mommy?” He stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. As his gaze wandered around the room, his eyes widened. “I forgot about my room.”
She held out her arms, and he ran to her. “I kind of forgot you too, Mommy. Why did I forget?”
“You’d been hurt, sweetie.” She smoothed the hair back from his forehead. “We have lots of time for you to remember everything.”
“I’m glad to be home, Mommy.” His small face sobered. “Can we go get Daddy and bring him home too?”
Bree’s exhilaration faded. “Do you remember the crash, sweetheart? The plane crash.”
Davy’s eyes grew wide, and he nodded slowly. His green eyes filled with tears. “The plane hit the trees. Daddy yelled.”
Bree struggled with the tears that burned in her eyes. “Daddy was hurt really bad. He can’t be with us anymore. He would if he could.”
Davy buried his head in her lap and wept. “I miss Daddy. She said he was in heaven. Can we go to heaven to see him?”
The floodgates of Bree’s tears opened, and she wrapped her arms around her son. Their tears mingled as she cried for her lost husband in a way she’d never been able to before. Her stomach knotted with pain as she wept for the years they could have spent together watching Davy grow up, and for the male role model Davy would never have. Soon she would bring Rob home too, to rest in the Rock Harbor Cemetery with his grandparents.
Davy’s tears finally stopped, and Bree’s as well. She gathered him into her arms. “We’ll see Daddy again someday, but not for a long time. Daddy wants you to grow up to be a fine man, one with integrity and the same kind of strength and honor he had. Someday I’ll tell you all about what kind of man your daddy was. All that matters now is that God brought you home, where you belong. Let’s thank him for that.”
“We have to thank Sam too.” Davy reached out and patted the dog. Samson’s tail swished eagerly at the attention.
Bree petted the dog. Her own personal “hound” had followed a bit of heavenly intervention and found Davy. He would always be her earthly reminder of how God had searched for her and found her, even as she wandered in her own wilderness.
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. Each of us can easily name people whose influence made a big difference in our lives. Bree had a good influence in her mother-in-law, Anu. What about her mother-in-law helped her face the trials in her own life?
2. We can all recall bad influences in our lives as well. Bree’s sister-in-law Hilary caused Bree some problems. What about Hilary’s attitude affected Bree?
3. Rachel has both good and bad desires, as we all do. Which do you think was the strongest? Can you give instances of both sides of Rachel?
4. Naomi had issues with her mother in this novel. What could she have done differently to take control of her own life?
5. At what point did you realize “Sam” was really Davy? How did that make you feel?
6. Bree blamed God for taking her husband and son. Have you ever blamed God for something bad that happened in your life or in the life of a loved one? How could you encourage someone in that situation?
7. Kade felt responsible for everyone, and sometimes the weight of such responsibility dragged him down. Should he have assumed all the responsibilities he did? Why or why not?
8. Rebellion is a common teenage problem. What was Lauri’s main difficulty? How could she have handled it better?
9. What drove Palmer to commit murder?
10. The poem “The Hound of Heaven” is a running theme throughout the book. In what ways does Samson illustrate that kind of relentless love?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It was a life-changing day at the Mt. Hermon Christian Writer’s Conference when I sat on the floor outside a workshop and first pitched the Rock Harbor series to editor Ami McConnell. She went back to her office, found the proposal in her stack, and bought that first book, Without a Trace. The rest is history, and here I am, still with my dream team at Thomas Nelson.
I can’t imagine writing without my editor, Ami. I crave her analytical eye and love her heart. Ames, you are truly like a daughter to me. Marketing and Publicity Director Katie Bond is a dear friend after all these years too, and I wouldn’t get far without her great ideas and constant support. Publisher Daisy Hutton is a dynamo who has taken the fiction team to a new high, and our souls were immediately knit together. Fabulous cover guru Kristen Vasgaard works hard to create the perfect cover—and does. You rock, Kristen! My entire fiction team has had a role in my career: Amanda Bostic, Becky Monds, Jodi Hughes, Ruthie Dean, Laura Dickerson, Kerrie Potts, Heather McCulloch, and Dean Arvidson. You are all such a big part of my life. I wish I could name all the great folks at Thomas Nelson who work on selling my books through different venues. I’m truly blessed!
Julee Schwarzburg is a dream editor to work with. She totally “gets” romantic suspense, and our partnership is a joy. Thanks for all your hard work to make this book so much better!
My agent, Karen Solem, has helped shape my career in many ways, and that includes kicking an idea to the curb when necessary. Thanks, Karen, you’re the best!
Writing can be a lonely business, but God has blessed me with great writing friends and critique partners. Hannah Alexander (Cheryl Hodde), Kristin Billerbeck, Diann Hunt, and Denise Hunter make up the Girls Write Out squad (www.GirlsWriteOut.blogspot.com). I couldn’t make it through a day without my peeps! Thanks to all of you for the work you do on my behalf and for your friendship.
I’m so grateful for my husband, Dave, who carts me around from city to city, washes towels, and chases down dinner without complaint. As I type this, he has been free of prostate cancer for almost two years, and we’re so thankful! My kids—Dave, Kara (and now Donna and Mark)—and my grandsons, James and Jorden Packer, love and support me in every way possible. Love you guys! Donna and Dave brought me the delight of my life—our little granddaughter, Alexa! She’s talking like a grown-up now, and having her spend the night is more fun than I can tell you.
Most important of all, I give thanks to God, who has opened such amazing doors for me and makes the journey a golden one.
AN EXCERPT FROM TIDEWATER INN
ONE
Libby Holladay fought her way through the brambles to the overgrown garden. She paused to wave a swarm of gnats away from her face. The house was definitely in the Federal style, as she’d been told. Palladian windows flanked a centered door, or rather the opening for a door. The structure was in serious disrepair. Moss grew on the roof, and fingers of vine pried through the brick mo
rtar. The aroma of honeysuckle vied with that of mildew.
She stepped closer to the house and jotted a few impressions in her notebook before moving inside to the domed living room. The floorboards were missing in places and rotted in others, so she planted her tan flats carefully. She could almost see the original occupants in this place. She imagined her own furniture grouped around the gorgeous fireplace. She’d love to have this place, but something so grand that needed this much repair would never be hers. The best she could do would be to preserve it for someone else who would love it. She itched to get started.
Her cell phone rang, and she groped in her canvas bag for it. Glancing at the display, she saw her partner’s name. “Hey, Nicole,” she said. “You should see this place. A gorgeous Federal-style mansion. I think it was built in 1830. And the setting by the river is beautiful. Or it will be once the vegetation is tamed.” Perching on the window seat, she made another note about the fireplace. “Nicole? Are you there?”
There was a long pause, then Nicole finally spoke. “I’m here.”
“You sound funny. What’s wrong?” Nicole was usually talkative, and Libby couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard strain in her friend’s voice. “Are you still in the Outer Banks? Listen, I heard there might be a hurricane heading that way.” She dug into her purse for her jalapeño jellybeans and popped one in her mouth.
“I’m here,” Nicole said. “The residents are sure the storm will miss Hope Island. The investor is really interested in this little town. And we have the chance to make a boatload of money on it. It’s all in your hands.”
“My hands? You’re the one with the money smarts.”
Nicole was the mover and shaker in Holladay Renovations. She convinced owners to dramatically increase the value of their historic properties by entrusting them to Libby’s expertise. Libby had little to do with the money side of the business, and that was how she liked it.
“I think I’d better go back to the beginning,” Nicole said. “Rooney sent me here to see about renovating some buildings in the small downtown area. He’s working on getting a ferry to the island. It will bring in a lot more tourism for the hotel he’s planning, but the buildings need to be restored to draw new business.”
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