by Lisa Carter
“But something could dig ’em up and eat the babies. They could get lost after they hatch and never find their mama. We’ve got to protect ’em.”
Caroline looked over Izzie’s head at him.
Weston cleared his throat. “We need to let nature take its course. Not interfere, Izzie. They’ll hatch or they won’t, with or without us.”
“No, Daddy.” Izzie jutted her hip. “God put those turtle babies on our beach for us to help them.”
“I’m going to need your help, Izzie, in lots of ways.” She fingered the stack of bracelets on her wrist. “It’s extremely rare for a Kemp’s ridley to lay eggs anywhere other than Mexico. To my knowledge, this may only be the second case we’ve discovered. The first documented nest was found across the bay in 2008.”
He caught the excitement in her voice. “So this is a big deal? We’re making history.”
Caroline smiled.
His stomach turned over as those melted chocolate eyes of hers melted him.
“It is a big deal. A very big deal.”
Caroline squeezed Izzie’s hand. “We’re going to need to put stakes around the nest and markers. Because Kemp’s ridleys are so endangered, it’s important that we monitor the nest for the next few months of incubation to ensure that the hatchlings have the best chance of survival.”
She moistened her lips. “I’m afraid I may wear out my welcome on your beach before it’s over.”
He broadened his shoulders. “You won’t wear out your welcome with us, I promise.”
“It’s so exciting, isn’t it?” Izzie threw her arms around Caroline’s waist.
Caroline staggered, but hugged Izzie back. The turtle lady, he decided, was good with children. Or at least, with his child.
“I can’t wait to tell Max.”
Caroline’s smile faltered. She let go of Izzie. “The fewer people trampling the beach, the better chance the eggs have for hatching. We’ll need to erect a wire cage to fend off raccoons and foxes.”
“By we, you mean me?”
The smile returned to her lips.
His breath stutter-stepped. It could become addictive bringing a smile to the turtle lady’s face. He also decided maybe his initial impression of Caroline had been off base. Perhaps she was more bark than bite.
“If you wouldn’t mind…”
Mind? He blinked. It took him a second to refocus. Oh, right. She was talking about the cage.
“What about me, Caroline? What can I do?”
She smoothed Izzie’s hair. “I’ll need your dad’s help in loading the turtle into the kiddy pool in my car. But then it’s going to take a gazillion gallons of water to fill the pool enough to transport the turtle. And that’s where you come in.”
Izzie quivered from her sand-encrusted toes to the top of her unruly red hair. “I can do that. I’m good at filling buckets. Will Turtle Mama be okay?”
Caroline made eye contact with his daughter. “I’m going to have to do surgery to remove the hook and repair her flipper, but there are no guarantees, Izz.”
“Like in life,” he interjected.
Caroline’s lips thinned. “Exactly.”
She moved her car as close as she could to the beach without damaging the fragile dune biosphere. With a great deal of effort—mostly his and Caroline’s—they managed to shift the turtle from the beach and into the SUV. Izzie darted ahead of them and returned, looping them as they shouldered the hundred-pound turtle over the dune.
Teeth gritted, he muscled the primeval creature into the kiddy pool in the back of the vet’s vehicle. “You do this on a regular basis by yourself?” he grunted.
“Usually the grad students help. Good thing Kemp’s ridleys are the smaller sized among sea turtles or we couldn’t have managed on our own.”
After parking the SUV once again near the cottage, the lithe Caroline handed several empty plastic buckets to Izzie. “Would you be so kind as to fill these for me, Izz?”
He folded his arms across his T-shirt. “And you’re welcome.”
She tilted her head. “For what?”
He propped his hip against the open tailgate and nudged his chin at the turtle in the pool.
“Oh…” She shrugged. “I’m sure I would’ve somehow managed without you, but—”
“Is that your idea of a thank you?” He grinned. “Not really a people person, are you?”
She blushed a lovely shade of rose. “I’m better with animals. I spend most of my time with them. People are too…”
“Complicated?”
Her gaze shot to his. “More entangling than a fisherman’s net.”
Message sent and received. Like a warning shot fired across the bow. This woman wasn’t looking for relationships.
Good thing he wasn’t either. In his case, the burned child dreaded the fire. He found himself—against his better judgment—curious about what lay behind the beautiful vet’s aversion to relationships, though.
Not any of my business.
Izzie hurried from the house. One bucket clasped in both hands, she sloshed water over the rim and onto her bare toes.
The turtle lady might not be his business, but Izzie was. He’d never seen Izzie attach herself to anyone like this female veterinarian. And frankly, the idea of Izzie forming an attachment to the prickly vet disturbed Weston.
On a profound level, to a degree, Weston wasn’t sure he wanted to explore. He had Izzie’s well-being to consider. It was her fragile heart he was thinking about.
Wasn’t it?
Proud as if she’d single-handedly saved the free world, Izzie transferred the now half-empty bucket to the vet.
She smiled at his daughter. “Thank you, Izzie. You’re such a big help.”
Izzie took off at a run. “I’ll bring the other bucket, Caroline,” she called over her shoulder.
He straightened. “Let me—”
“I got it, Daddy. I’m not a baby.” His daughter never broke her stride.
Caroline poured the contents over the turtle’s carapace and into the pool.
“Will you take the turtle to the aquarium across the bay to Virginia Beach or up to Ocean City in Maryland?”
“Neither.” Caroline gave the turtle’s shell a small pat. “Fortunately for this injured lady, we’re headed to the new aquatic rehab center I’m establishing in Wachapreague for the summer.”
Izzie sloshed forward in time to hear Caroline’s last remarks. “Yay! You’ll be here the whole summer?” Bucket clutched at chest level, she bounced on her toes.
He and Caroline stepped back. But not soon enough. Water doused the tailgate and puddled at his and Caroline’s feet.
Weston seized the bucket before further damage ensued. “Izzie… Be careful.”
Izzie’s lower lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help.”
“You are the best helper I’ve had in ages.” Caroline placed her palm on Izzie’s head for a millisecond before taking the bucket from him. “A little water never hurt anyone. Kind of refreshing in this early heat wave.”
Izzie danced on the tips of her toes again. “So you’ll be here the whole summer?”
Caroline concentrated on filling the kiddy pool. “Most of it.”
Weston’s stomach did a curious, roiling dive. A sliver of stupid anticipation coupled with a whole lot of fear. Not his business, he reminded himself.
“How’s Turtle Mama?” Izzie scrambled onto the bed of the truck. The truck rocked. Caroline wobbled.
“Careful, Monkey Girl…” His hand cupped Caroline’s elbow to steady her.
The lady vet’s eyes cut from his hand to his face. He reddened and let go of her.
“I realize we haven’t been formally introduced, but did you just call me a monkey?” Her lips curved into a smile. “Or should I assume that term of endearment was directed at Izzie?”
He decided the turtle lady had a nice smile. Nice sense of humor, too.
Weston’s hand tingled from the touch of her skin on his.
If this was his reaction to the less-than-sociable lady vet, he needed to get out more.
Izzie laughed. “Silly Daddy calls me his monkey all the time.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded like an idiot. And flushed again.
Maybe the church ladies were right. Way past time for some female companionship. Nothing wrong with a friend from the opposite gender.
Izzie scooped a handful of water. “What’s going to happen to Turtle Mama?” She allowed it to trickle through her fingers onto the turtle.
The turtle lady gave Izzie what he guessed to be a highly redacted version of the surgical procedure.
“Can I watch?”
“I’m afraid not.” Caroline’s brow puckered. “We try, like at the people hospital, to keep everything as sterile—I mean germ free—as possible. Have you ever visited a people hospital before?”
His daughter squeezed Caroline’s fingers and hopped from the bed of the truck. “Last fall when Max’s baby was born. Babies are so sweet.” Izzie sighed.
Weston tweaked the end of Izzie’s nose. “Babies are also smelly and loud and take your favorite toys.”
“You know Max Scott?” Caroline’s mouth pulled downward. “Of course you know the Duers, if you know Sawyer Kole. Everybody knows everybody in good ol’ Kiptohanock.”
Her lips twisted. “You can’t flush a toilet at one end without the other end knowing.”
Izzie snuggled under her father’s arm. “Max and I are sorta friends.”
Weston grabbed Izzie into a headlock. “Sort of doesn’t quite capture it.”
He ruffled Izzie’s red mane. “Try compadre in mischief. Best buddy in mayhem. Bonnie to Max’s Clyde. When they’re not aggravating the tar out of each other, that is.”
Izzie laughed and broke free.
Caroline reached toward Izzie’s tousled hair. “You messed up her—” She dropped her hand. “Not my business.”
No, it wasn’t. Izzie’s hair and his parenting style—which he was all too aware lacked a feminine touch—was none of the lady vet’s business.
She shoved the turtle pool farther into the truck and slammed the tailgate with a bang.
Izzie plucked at Caroline’s shirt. “But how will I know if Turtle Mama is okay?”
As if she couldn’t help herself, Caroline brushed a stray ringlet out of Izzie’s face. “I’ll give you a call later and let you know how Turtle Mama—I mean the turtle—is doing. Okay?”
Her words were directed at Izzie, but she glanced at him. “I’ll get your cell number from Roland.”
“Roland?”
“Dr. Teague at VIMS.”
Weston shifted. “I’m assuming you’re a doctor, too.”
She dropped her gaze and stared at her coral-painted toes. “I don’t use the title much. Most people just call me Caroline.”
Why did this feel like he was pulling line on a hammerhead shark? “Caroline… What?”
Her gaze skipped to the top of the lighthouse before returning to him. “It’s Duer. Caroline Duer.”
Weston rocked on his heels. “Seth Duer’s absentee daughter?” His heart raced. “The daughter who abandoned her family for her career.”
Could he pick ’em or what? He scowled. Yet another instance of epic misjudgment on his part. Good thing he’d found out before it was too late. Too late for Izzie. And for him?
Tensing, he pulled Izzie closer and put distance between them and Caroline. The gesture wasn’t lost on the intelligent lady vet.
She swallowed. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
Then her face blanked like a hurricane shutter nailed over a window. “And yes. I’m that Caroline Duer.”
Chapter Four
Recalling Weston Clark’s fierce scowl, Caroline felt tears burning her eyelids the entire journey from the Neck to VIMS. Izzie tugged on heartstrings Caroline didn’t know she possessed. And Caroline had been getting along so nicely with Izzie’s handsome ex–Coast Guard father, too, until—
Until she told him her name.
“What can’t be cured, must be endured.” A saying of her father’s, which had become a selffulfilling prophecy for Caroline’s life thus far.
At the sloshing sounds from the back of the SUV, Caroline monitored the Kemp’s ridley from the rearview mirror. She sighed as she bypassed Kiptohanock for Wachapreague. She might not be able to bring about reconciliation with her family, but she could make a difference in the endangered turtle’s life and with the other sea creatures she’d have a chance to save over the course of the summer.
She was pleased to find her interns moved into the dormitory when she arrived at the makeshift surgical center. She’d need their assistance to help Izzie’s turtle mama.
Caroline bit her lip. In her experience, it was best not to get too attached to the animals. Much less attached to humans, who were unpredictable and unreliable. When and if the female was deemed sea-ready, the turtle would be tagged for tracking and released into the open ocean once more.
Hours later, Caroline emerged from surgery and wiped the sweat off her brow with her hand. Her students would settle the Kemp’s ridley into the tank and monitor the turtle’s vital signs.
She’d managed to save all but a small portion of one of the turtle’s flippers. Barring infection, she was optimistic as to the turtle’s chances of survival and eventual release into the turtle’s natural habitat. Which, of course, was the ultimate goal of the pilot program.
Behind the westerly horizon of the trees, the setting sun cast a molten glow upon the water in the harbor. Still in scrubs, she paused on the steps of the institute to take in the view of an Eastern Shore sunset. Her stomach growled. Lunch at the Island House with Roland had been hours ago.
After she’d been on her feet for hours in surgery, dinner was her next priority. Perhaps she’d try the Sage Diner, a longtime Shore favorite, near the motel on Highway 13. It probably wouldn’t be a problem getting a table, since the tourist season hadn’t properly begun yet.
She was startled to find her sisters waiting for her in the institute parking lot.
Amelia gazed at her across the roof of the RAV4. “We need to talk, Caroline.”
Caroline’s bracelets jangled as her fist tightened around the key. “I think Daddy pretty much said everything there was to say.”
Honey came around the car. “Daddy is like an old sea dog. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“She’s right.” Amelia nodded. “Anger is easier for him to acknowledge than the hurt.”
“Hurt I caused.” Caroline gulped. “Anger I deserve.”
“Daddy will move beyond both if you give him time.” Honey touched her arm. “I’m sure of it.”
Caroline shuffled her flip-flops in the gravel. “You’re more confident of that than I am.”
“I’m sure enough for both of us.” Honey gave Caroline a small smile. “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
A lump the size of a boulder lodged in Caroline’s throat. “I missed you, too, baby sis.” She turned her face into the wind blowing off the water. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“We all missed you, Caroline.”
Caroline angled at the pensive note in Amelia’s voice.
“I hope you’ll stick around long enough to work through this thing with Daddy. He’s not been the same since you left.”
Caroline chewed the inside of her mouth. “I’m sorry for hurting all of you. But when Mom died, I had to leave. I can’t explain why—I don’t expect you to understand—but I just had to go.”
“I heard this afternoon about the pilot program. Everyone in Kiptohanock is speculating on where the permanent marine center will be located.” Amelia joined them on the other side of the car. “It’s a good thing you’re doing. And if anybody can make it happen, it will be you.”
Caroline sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Something else I don’t deserve after abandoning the family.”
Amelia caught hold of her hand. “Som
e of us know what you did, Caroline.”
She stiffened. “You do?” A throbbing low in her skull began to ache.
Honey tilted her head. “When the hurricane last September nearly destroyed the inn and the loan to rebuild came through so quickly, Amelia, Braeden and I made inquiries at the bank.”
Oh, that. Caroline willed her heart to settle.
“While others had to wait much longer for federal funds, we were able to begin rebuilding immediately.” Amelia squeezed her hand. “It was you who put up the money. I don’t know how you did it, but it was you who saved the house and put us back in business.”
Honey’s mouth quivered. “You saved my dream and something far more precious, time to rebuild my relationship with Sawyer so we could have our happily-ever-after.”
Tears stung Caroline’s eyes, but she shook her head. “You’re making it more than it was. Money was the least—”
“Not the least,” Amelia insisted. “Exactly what we needed when we needed it the most.”
Caroline shrugged. “Everything except myself.”
“You gave us what you could, which is why Amelia and I added your name to the title to the house.”
Caroline shook her head. “I never meant for you to do that. I lost my right to call the house my home a long time ago. I only wanted to help, not lay claim to anything.”
Honey’s arm went around Caroline, fixing Caroline in place between her sisters. As if they were both determined she wouldn’t run away again. Little did they realize, she was done running. Staying and facing the fallout of her actions was part of her healing. Essential to becoming whole once more.
“It’s a done deal. The Duer Fisherman’s Lodge is as it should have always been—owned and operated by the family. Braeden, Amelia, Patrick and Max Scott. Sawyer, me…” Honey patted her rounded belly. “And Baby Kole. Seth and Caroline Duer.”
Amelia jutted her jaw. “We’re laying claim to you. The house belongs to you as much as any of us. And we insist you stay in the unoccupied cabin during your summer program.”
“I already have a reservation at the motel in Onley.”
