by Cindy Miles
He didn’t know her. Not at all.
And he never, ever could. It left her frustrated. Angry. Did she deserve it? This self-imposed purgatory? Maybe she did. Yet, she couldn’t help but fall under the lure of normalcy. Of a guy and a girl. Of raging attraction. Of a connection.
A vision of his features bathed in shadows as he strode directly up to her, not even slowing down, bounding up the steps to grasp her face and kiss her senseless. It was like a movie inside her mind, one that ran on an endless reel. She’d have to remember it, just like that. Just as it was. A perfect memory to keep her company on lonely nights. When she felt as though the world was closing in on her. It’d be a balm of sorts. When she felt overcome by secrets, by running away. He’d be there, kept safe in yet another secret. A secret place only she knew about. A place for which she could fetch the key and let his memory out, and it would soothe her. She’d carry that memory of him for the rest of her life.
Her fingertips grazed her lips where he’d kissed her. Tasted her. She’d fallen under his touch, and could still sense the wobbliness of her knees as his hands had caressed her skin. The closeness of his body to hers, and the way he’d crowded her possessively. God, she wished it could last. Wished she could be free to be the woman who would forever make it less painful for Nathan to talk about his past, about his loss. She wished she had the freedom to spend evenings with the Malone family, laughing and teasing with such affection. Or that she could be the woman who could offer her child a family. A great-grandfather in Jep, and a grandparent in Owen. Aunts, uncles—an entire unit. Something she’d never had, either. Why couldn’t she make it different for Willa?
And the way Nathan had taken to her daughter? The way his whole family had taken to her and Willa? Never in a thousand years would Sean have ever predicted stumbling upon such a treasure as the Malones when she’d set her and Willa’s course for Cassabaw Station.
Was it a mistake? Coincidence? Luck?
Fate?
Sean rolled onto her stomach, punched her pillow a few times, then flopped against it, considering her questions. Mistake? More than likely, yes. Because when the day came that she and Willa had to pack up and leave again, it was going to kill her. This time, it’d hurt Willa, too, because she’d grown quite fond of Jep in a very short time. So yes. Probably a mistake.
Luck? No way. Sean never had luck. Ever.
Coincidence? Well, she simply didn’t believe in coincidence. She believed in black and white. Not that mystical gray area in between. Did coincidence lean closer to the gray? How could it? So what was black and what was white? Decision? Choice? She’d made decisions. She’d made choices. There had been consequences. Not coincidence. Everything she’d done reflected in the dilemma she faced now. The past that chased her and Willa.
She rolled onto her back, her eyes focused on the whirling fan once again. That left fate. Fate could possibly be just as mystical and far-fetched as coincidence. Fate was like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
Right?
Did she dare to believe in fate? Coincidence, in Sean’s book, had more substance. More science. Fate, on the other hand, seemed...magical.
If only she believed in that.
Sean wanted her brain to stop moving and shuffling, just for a moment. Just for once, let her and Willa simply...be.
Thump.
The unexpected noise coughed through the stillness of the room, and Sean all but jumped out of her skin. She bolted upright, staring into the moonlit room, straining her ears. What was that? A pinecone dropping onto the roof? Quietly, she climbed from bed, padded over to the window and stared out.
There were at least a gazillion squirrels living in the canopy above their river house. Maybe one had dropped a pinecone. Or a branch had fallen. It sounded faint, yet connected to the house. Close enough to make her jump out of bed.
Sean’s eyes scanned the yard and marsh beyond.
Creak.
Her heart leaped to her throat. That sound she knew. It came from the front porch. Three boards from the top step.
She moved then. From behind her bedroom door she grabbed the baseball bat she always had hidden there, and crept into the hallway. Easing to the front door, she listened, scanning the darkness. Was someone here? Trying to break in?
Was it them?
With her heart slamming against her chest, she lifted the white lace curtain that covered the living room window and peered out onto the porch.
Nothing. No one was there.
Scanning everywhere—beneath the magnolias, the yard beyond—Sean searched. It couldn’t have been Nathan. Or any other Malone for that matter. Had they taken the time to come over, each and every one of them would have knocked on the door.
Thwack.
She gasped and gripped her bat, and her insides went cold as a raccoon jumped down from one of the porch chairs, just on the edge of her view. Another soon waddled into sight. She sighed in relief. Slowly, she padded to the door. Her fingers slipped around the bolt lock, and she cracked open the door.
“Hey! Psst. Go home, you two!” Sean startled the raccoons, and they took off down the porch, running in their funny, inch-worm, catlike canter. She watched them scurry down the drive, out of the porch light’s circle, then into the shadows where the darkness swallowed them up.
River raccoons. Like to have scared her to death.
She really, really needed to get a grip.
Not everything was sinister.
Especially in Cassabaw.
And no way could any of Chase Black’s men have tracked her to this reclusive barrier island. No way. She’d chosen the location completely randomly. Had leased it using a burner phone she’d discarded in Virginia. She’d not picked up a new phone until South Carolina. Another burner. Untraceable. There was simply no possible way she’d been found again. She’d learned to be careful.
It was her overactive mind playing mean, awful tricks on her.
With a heavy sigh, she made her way down the hall. She peeked in on Willa, who was sound asleep with her arms stretched out wide like angel wings, and that made Sean smile. She set her weapon behind the door and climbed into bed.
Regardless of luck, or fate, or mistakes or coincidences, she and Willa had a date later with a handsome pirate.
And for once in her life, Sean would push her past and fears behind her and just enjoy being on a date with a handsome, sweet man who thought she was, indeed, something else.
And as slumber finally closed in on her, she prayed Nathan would never find out the truth about her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Houston, Texas
“ARE YOU SURE this time, Mitchell?”
“I am, Mr. Black,” the voice said. “I told you I’d catch up with her. I admit, it wasn’t easy. She’s a slippery one. She’s changed her hair color, chopped it all off, too. But it’s her. And the kid’s still with her.”
“How old is the kid?” Chase was curious about this kid, had had time to think about it.
“I don’t know,” Mitchell said. “Four, three maybe? Hard to tell. She’s pretty small.”
Chase Black leaned back into the plush leather chair and grasped a silver-tipped fountain pen between his fingers. Didn’t really fit his timeline. She must have hooked up with someone along the way. “I want you to watch them for now. Be discreet. I don’t want her alerted. Or anyone else for that matter.”
“I know discreet.”
“Make sure that you do,” Black stated. “I’m leaving the country for business. I’ll contact you.”
“Yes, sir—”
Black ended the call abruptly. He’d said what he needed to say. Setting the pen carefully on his desk, he leaned back, steepled his fingertips and swiveled his chair to stare over the dark Houston night. Lights flickered like a pulse, as though the
people down below were plugged in somehow. Like drones, maybe? All running, running, always on the move.
So, little Sara had tried to change herself. Obviously, she’d changed her name. She should know by now that when Chase Black wanted something, Chase Black got it. Despite where she came from. He’d cleaned her up, had given her a damned good life. Got her out of that bar, put a rock on her finger. He’d taken a street orphan and turned her life around. Gave her things she’d only dreamed of. And she’d taken off.
His eyes narrowed as he stared out into the night.
No gratitude.
Reaching over, Chase clicked off his desk lamp and sat in the shadows.
She would come to appreciate him again. She was the kind of woman, despite her roots, whom he just couldn’t shake. She had fire. Determination. Despite her petite size, she was fearless. And smart.
Moreover, she knew a little too much about his business.
Again, he smiled. Besides, no doubt she’d want only the very best for the child.
She’d just need convincing.
He was exceptional at convincing.
Cassabaw Station
“MAMA, HOW MUCH LONGER before we go home?”
Sean peered through her sunglasses at her daughter as they walked along the boardwalk. She bent close and half turned Willa’s narrow shoulders to face the ocean. “Well,” Sean said, pointing with her finger, “we have to wait until Captain Nathan and Mr. Owen haul in their shrimp. See way out there? They are on the Tiger Lily right now catching lots of shrimp to sell. It kind of takes a while to go all the way out there and back.”
Willa shielded her eyes and stared off toward the sea. “Yeah, I guess so.” She looked at Sean. “So how many hours?”
Sean grinned. “Why? Excited about tonight?”
Willa squinted as she grinned against the sunlight. “I am! We get to go in the lighthouse!” She jumped up and down with excitement, clapping her small hands together. She pointed behind them. “It’s just right there, too, Mama. Do you think we’ll get to go all the way to the top?”
Sean peered at the black-and-white giant Willa pointed to. It almost seemed to disappear into the clouds, it was so tall. “All the way, Willa.” She grasped Willa’s hand. “Let’s finish our walk and head home to get ready. Captain Nathan will be by to pick us up in a couple hours.”
“Yay!” Willa exclaimed, and held tightly onto Sean’s hand. They started down the wooden boardwalk, retracing their steps, passing tourists as they strolled in and out of the shops, with their colorful awnings, lining the waterfront.
Just as they neared the end, a cheerful voice called out. “Sean! Willa!”
They turned to find Nathan’s sister-in-law, Emily, waddling down the steps of her café, the Windchimer. Dozens of sea-themed chimes clanked and tinkled in the wind where they hung from the outdoor sitting pavilion. Wearing white shorts and a blue-and-white-striped tank top, Emily approached. She had a white bandanna pulling back her long auburn hair. She looked like she’d stepped right out of the 1940s.
Emily beamed with joy. Sean recalled feeling that same joy when she’d carried Willa. Although she’d been scared at what being a single mom meant, she’d reveled in the little life that had grown inside her. It was a feeling she’d never forget.
“What are you two up to?” Emily asked, smiling.
“We’re going on a date with Captain Nathan in two hours!” Willa exclaimed. “He’s going to take us into the lighthouse when nobody else is there.” She leaned toward Emily, motioning for her to lower her head. Emily bent, her ear close to Willa’s cupped hand. “It’s a secret tour,” Willa whispered loudly.
Emily rose. “Is that so?”
Willa’s head bobbed in agreement.
“Well,” Emily said, shifting her gaze between Sean and Willa. “You two must be very important to Captain Nathan.” She winked at Sean. “He doesn’t just take any ole body up in the lighthouse after hours.”
“Really?” Willa asked.
“Really,” Emily said solemnly.
Sean felt her cheeks grow warm. “We’re...” she started to say, and glanced at Willa. “We’re really grateful that all of you have been so kind.”
A knowing smile lifted Emily’s lips. “The Malones are a very special family. Hey, do you guys want a sandwich? We can get Anna to whip us up something at the Windchimer before she leaves for the day. The Irish Club is my favorite lately,” she said. She grinned at Willa. “I’m always hungry these days.”
“Me, too! Can we, Mama?” Willa asked.
“Thank you,” Sean accepted. “That’d be great.”
They followed Emily into the café. The colors were darker inside, with polished wood, and the space was decorated with Gatsby-type antiques. Prints of mermaids and mermen hung here and there, and even the hanging lampshades had mystical sea scenes. Old tinny music played softly through the speaker system, and Sean felt as though she’d stepped back in time.
“Pull up a stool,” Emily invited at the bar.
As Sean helped Willa scoot up, she noticed the bar top had a penny top that stretched the length of the café.
“This is an amazing place, Emily,” Sean commented, running her hand over the bar top then pulling up a stool. “Did you do all this?”
Emily gave a soft laugh as she settled onto a stool. “Not without gobs of help,” she admitted. “The Beasts of Utah Beach helped nearly every day, and more than half of the pennies here came from them,” she said, and there was love in her voice. Love and admiration.
“Who are they?” Sean asked.
“You’ll find them here most mornings, sitting outside having their coffee and retelling tales of the old days and baseball, mostly. World War II vets and their wives. All in their nineties now. Four brothers, all in Normandy on D-Day. Quite an impressive group of guys.” She brushed her fingertips over the bar top. “They helped put this bar together. There are quite a lot of pennies in here from the war. When we were renovating this place those old loves would sit in here with me for hours, setting the pennies in just so.” She glanced lovingly at the pennies in front of her. “Matt, too. It was...an utterly extraordinary time in my life.” She smiled at Sean. “I never thought I could be as happy as I am now.”
Emily’s joy seeped straight into Sean, and she couldn’t help but return the smile wistfully. “It shows,” she said. “You literally glow.”
“Hey, Ms. Emily, what can I get you guys?” A young girl appeared from the kitchen.
“What would you like Ms. Anna to fix you, sweetie?” Emily asked, leaning forward to peer at Willa, who sat on the stool, swinging her little legs. “Anything you like.”
Willa pondered the question. “Even a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
Emily laughed. “A girl after my own heart. How about you, Sean?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
“Ms. Anna, could we please have two Irish Clubs and one very special peanut butter and jelly?”
Anna grinned. “You got it, Mrs. M.”
They chatted while Anna made their sandwiches, and despite her intentions of not getting too involved with this family, this place, it was unavoidable. The draw of the Malones, of Cassabaw, tugged at her insides like a physical vise. Their bond as a family—something Sean had lacked as a child—was the biggest enticement for her. How she would have loved to have a sister, or brothers. A grandfather. Parents. Things most people took for granted, perhaps. She, however, most certainly did not.
“How did you and Matt meet, Emily?” Sean asked.
“We grew up together,” Emily said, her face beaming. “We were best friends. I spent more time at the Malones’ than I did my own house, it seemed.” Her expression fell a bit. “My parents were killed in a car accident, and my sister and I left to live with our grandparents in Mary
land. Matt and I spent our entire teenage years and early twenties apart. I moved here when my aunt Cora passed away, leaving the Windchimer and our childhood home to Reagan and me.” She shrugged. “The moment I saw Matthew Malone I knew I’d marry him.” She winked. “Only, he needed a little convincing at first.”
“Convincing about what?”
All three girls jumped at the deep, raspy voice that spoke from behind them. Matt sauntered up to his wife, wrapped his arms around her waist, then nuzzled her neck. “What stories are you fabricating about me, woman?”
Emily giggled and lifted her face to his, and he rewarded her with a quick kiss on the lips. “See?” Emily commented, leaning against her husband’s chest. “When I first came back to Cassabaw, Mattinski here was a big fat Grinch.”
Sean glanced at Mattinski, who merely shrugged.
“I worked super hard to drag my funny, lighthearted Matt out of his grumpy old shell.” She patted the muscular arm that draped protectively around her belly. “It was worth every single second.”
“Are you a pirate, too?” Willa asked. “Like Captain Nathan?”
Matt lifted one dark eyebrow. “Maybe.”
Willa beamed. “Cool.”
Matt gave Sean a wink then kissed his wife. “I’ve got that order you placed last week.”
“Ooh, the part for the gramophone? Swell! You’re going to fix it now?”
“I am,” Matt confessed. “Thought you’d want it working properly for the Fourth.”
“You thought exactly right,” Emily said. “Thanks, darling.”
Matt winked again. “See ya later.”
“Not if I see you first,” she teased back. The middle Malone brother walked out with a grin on his handsome face, shaking his head.
“What’s a gramophone?” Willa asked, tracing pennies in the bar with her little finger.
“Well,” Emily said, “it’s a superold kind of music recorder. When Mr. Matt has it fixed, I’ll let you see it.”
