by Cindy Miles
“Oh, thank you!” Willa exclaimed.
Just then, Anna appeared with the sandwiches and a pitcher of tea, and they all dug in. The Irish Club was piled high with corned beef, slaw, Swiss cheese and some kind of delicious sauce, all on toasted rye bread, sliced thick. Willa’s sandwich was made with homemade strawberry jam that Emily herself had canned. Sean had accepted a taste when Willa had offered it, and it was indeed superyummy, as her daughter had claimed.
“Good, huh?” Emily said with a mouth half-full, nodding in her own agreement. “This child is going to come out wanting corned beef instead of milk.”
Sean smiled, noticing the small freckles across Emily’s nose.
“You know, Nathan’s changed,” Emily said between bites. Her gaze darted to Willa, who was busy playing one of the little peg games that were scattered around the café. “Since he’s met you two.”
Sean took a sip of tea and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “How so?” She was curious about Nathan’s change. Was she truly responsible for it? The thought of carrying such heavy responsibility as another person’s happiness—other than Willa’s, that is—left a veil of fear inside. Yet, strangely, hearing the words gave her a thrill, as well.
“Well,” Emily began, “after his fiancée died, he sort of...gave up. On life, on happiness.” She held Sean’s gaze. “On love. And it wasn’t anything overt. He didn’t brood, or mope around. At least, not since I’ve been back. But there was something missing inside him. Very noticeable to me, from the Nathan I knew before.” Warmth and sincerity infused her eyes. “I see that old Nathan now. His spirit is lighter. His smile comes faster. And I really, really love that.
“I know for all those changes to happen within Nathan, something powerful stirs inside him. He doesn’t make a change like this on a whim. He’s sincere.” She gave a soft laugh. “They all are. Sincere, protective and loyal...like you’ll never encounter again. Ever. I swear it.” She took a sip of tea, and nodded. “I just wanted you to know that.”
In other words, don’t break his heart.
It wasn’t a warning, really. Sean knew Emily spoke from her heart, and she couldn’t blame her. They were, indeed, a rare breed, the Malones. She had no intention of hurting any of them.
Especially Nathan.
Then again, she really hadn’t meant to grow so fond of them, either.
“Thank you,” Sean told Emily. “I feel grateful that Willa and I met all of you. Nathan is unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”
“And we’re just as happy to have met the two of you, as well.” Emily grinned wide, showing off a dimple. “You fit right in.”
Those four words wormed their way into Sean’s brain and sat there for the rest of the day. Had she ever fit in with anyone? Yet, she truly did feel as though she and Willa belonged. It warmed her heart to think an entire family, strangers not so very long ago, felt that she and her daughter were worthy of their affection. Willa, sure—she could wiggle her way into anyone’s heart without the least bit of trouble. But Sean Jacobs hadn’t ever belonged.
For the first time, she felt she might. Despite that revelation, a feeling of weightiness lingered in her chest. Did she deserve a place here? What if she could never live up to the Malones? The very things she’d been hiding and running from might surface. That old self, her old life, was something the Malones didn’t need. Right?
The rest of the afternoon went by quickly. And the closer the time came for Nathan to pick her and Willa up, the faster her heart beat and the more that silly feeling stirred inside her stomach. All at the mere thought of seeing him again.
By six o’clock, Willa was running around with her wings on, peeking out the window in hopes of catching the first sight of Nathan.
“Mama, can I wait for him on the porch?” she asked.
Sean smiled. “Sure. Just stay on the steps, okay?”
“Okay!” Willa exclaimed, dashing outside. The screen door creaked before it slammed shut, and Sean shook her head then checked her image in the hall mirror once more. She’d looked at least a dozen times since pulling on the little floral sundress and sandals. A plain dress. Plain brown sandals.
On her plain ole self.
She fingered her pixie-styled hair, the bangs just long enough to tuck behind her ears. Her hazel eyes, which seemed too wide for her face, stared from the depths of the mirror. At first glance, she simply appeared plain, average, just a young mother. Unfortunately, she knew the true person behind the image in the mirror. All the secrets she held. The life she once led. She used to not be so plain, that was for sure. Far from it. A vastly different image used to stare back at her. One she was...so very ashamed of.
What would the Malones think of her if they knew?
What would Nathan think?
Sean’s heart sank. That feeling, as if something heavy sat upon her chest, assaulted her. She knew good and well what Nathan would think—what they’d all think. Even being nonjudgmental, loving and kind people, they’d only be able to judge the bare truth staring them in the face. A vision flashed of Nathan, of his expression of disgust at finding out how she used to make her living. Of how she’d lived on the streets, homeless. The times she’d steal. And...worse.
And that was why they must never, ever know.
“Knock, knock,” a deep, raspy voice called from the porch.
“Mama, Captain Nathan is here, and wait till you see him!” Willa called out through the screen door.
Sean turned, and her heart leaped when she saw the man staring back at her.
“Wow.” The word slipped from Sean’s mouth before she could stop it.
Nathan grinned, inspecting her from head to toe. “Took the word right out of my mouth. You look...” The smile on his mouth widened. “Beautiful.”
Words failed Sean. She felt the blush creep up her throat and settle into her cheeks, but still she couldn’t tear her eyes off him.
He’d shaven. Not clean-shaven, but he’d trimmed his beard down to a dark, well-groomed scruff on his jaw. He’d trimmed his hair, too. Still longish—longer in the front, perhaps, since he may have cut it by himself. It fell in sun-tousled waves to his collar, the bangs pulled back as was his usual fashion. He wore a long-sleeved white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of well-worn jeans that clung easily to him.
He looked drop-dead gorgeous.
“Mama! Captain Nathan is still a pirate, just a clean one,” Willa exclaimed, jumping around him.
Nathan grinned, and Sean smiled in return. “I see,” Sean said softly, shyly examining his new cut. “A clean pirate, hmm? You look, well...” She shook her head in amazement. “You—”
Nathan was suddenly there, standing close, bending his head closer. “Literally take my breath away, Ms. Jacobs,” he whispered, and grazed his lips across her cheek.
Sean’s stomach dipped again, butterflies fluttering like crazy, and when Nathan pulled back, and those green eyes settled on hers with that merry, profound stare, her heart skipped a beat.
“Mama, why is your face turning so red? Captain Nathan, look at Mama’s face,” Willa said.
Willa.
The smile on Nathan’s face stretched ear to ear, and he squatted beside Willa, rubbing his chin with thumb and forefinger. He leaned his head close to her daughter’s, and the heat intensified in Sean’s cheeks at his inspection. “Would you look at that,” he agreed with Willa, cocking his head to get a better look. “Why do you think that is, Princess Willa?”
Willa took the same inquisitive stance that Nathan had, rubbing her pointed chin in a similar manner. “Probably because she thinks you’re handsome, Captain Nathan,” she finally said.
“How do you know that?” Nathan asked.
Willa turned to him. “I don’t know. Just probably, is all.”
“Willa!” Sean laughe
d. “Honestly.”
“What did she say exactly?” Nathan urged the five-year-old.
“We should be going,” Sean exclaimed, guiding her daughter to the door, sufficiently quieting the loveable little tattletale. “Time to go to the lighthouse.”
Willa started to jump up and down. “Yes! The lighthouse! Let’s go, Captain Nathan.”
Nathan rose, Sean gave him a mock frown, then together they headed outside to climb into the truck’s cab.
As Sean tucked her legs inside, Nathan shut the truck door, grinning at her through the window.
Her heart fluttered as he got in on his side and started the engine, and they drove out onto the river road, toward the lighthouse.
Sean didn’t want this feeling to ever end.
And as they traveled along the narrow two-lane road, with the sun dropping over the salt marsh, the light flickering as it shot through moss-draped live oak branches, she sighed in contentment.
Contentment? She’d only ever experienced a similar feeling the moment she’d held Willa in her arms for the very first time. This was different, though. A different sort of contentment. And for the very first time in her life, Sean felt as though she’d found a place in the world. A place where she and her daughter belonged, fit in.
Felt at home.
She felt as though she might have a shot at true love. Which was the absolute worst thing that could happen to her. Being happy, possibly sharing a life with Nathan, would do nothing but bring danger to them all. That danger was a very real threat.
Then again, perhaps she’d finally escaped the danger. Maybe, just maybe, she and Willa had become the ghosts she’d wanted to be all along. She’d covered her tracks. Backtracked, covered them again. How could her past, so many years behind her, still be such a threat? Had she become so paranoid? Had she built up the threat to be way, way larger than it truly was? Had she done so because she’d had nothing better to do than run?
Willa’s safety had always been at the forefront of Sean’s concerns. But how much damage was she causing her daughter by running? By not providing a safe, secure home. In one place. With family.
To Sean, a loving family had once been nothing more than fiction.
Was it much closer, much more obtainable than she’d truly believed?
And as Nathan and Willa started singing together to a Phil Collins song from the Disney movie Tarzan, she prayed fiercely fate was real.
And she prayed that fate wouldn’t take away this extraordinary gift.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BY THE TIME Nathan parked the truck and they climbed out, the sky over Cassabaw had shifted from sky blue to lavender, striped with hues of sienna and rose as the sun sank into the horizon. The constant sea breeze caressed Sean’s face and tousled her hair, and Nathan, walking beside her in the alabaster sand, slipped his hand into hers, winding their fingers together. For the hundredth time that day, Sean’s heart surged.
He glanced down, a smile dancing in his eyes as he led her and Willa to the old lighthouse keeper’s cottage. Around back, close to the dunes covered with wispy sea oats waving in the wind, a wooden swing hanging from a wooden frame faced the lighthouse.
Sean and Nathan sat close on it, hands clasped, and watched Willa as she ran along the dunes like a whimsical sea fairy, with her delicate wings flapping in the breeze behind her. They waited for the last tour to finish in the lighthouse, and it was so easy just being with Nathan. They connected. He didn’t ask questions, never imposed demands. He simply...was there. All of him, there for her and Willa. Never had Sean encountered such ease and comfort in another human being, other than Willa. It completely astounded her. She liked the feeling. A lot.
“So tell me,” Sean started to say, turning slightly to Nathan. He sat tall beside her, his muscular thighs taking up a good portion of the swing as he reclined in that easy way guys reclined, with legs spread just so, casual and carefree. The breeze lifted his hair from his collar, and his profile shined bronze in the fading sun. It was all Sean could do to keep her concentration. She cleared her throat. “Jep used to run around here as a little boy?”
Nathan laughed softly and nodded, pointing to the keeper’s cottage. “There are photographs of Jep running with a kite—” he nudged his arm toward her “—much like this one, running around the dunes. Head full of crazy curls.”
“Much like yours,” Sean commented. “I can’t wait to see.”
Nathan’s eyes were shining. His fingers squeezed hers. “I like that you’ve taken to my family,” he said. “To that crazy old man.”
Sean laughed, and the breeze swallowed it up. “It’s kind of impossible not to fall for that crazy old man.” Sean dared to glance at their clasped hands, and again noticed the ring on his finger. It brought to mind an image of a young Jep, and how the sea influenced not only his own life, but the lives of his son, his grandsons. She wondered briefly what Jep had been like as a rescue swimmer. As a young man.
Sean focused again on Nathan’s ring, silver in color, with a blue background on its face, decorated with gold anchors and engraved with the insignia. Sean scraped it gently with her finger. “You should be extremely proud of this,” she said cautiously. “I don’t want to unearth the hurt you bear, Nathan. I just want you to know what I think.” She squeezed their fingers together tighter. “And I think you should be very, very proud.”
Nathan’s weighty stare lasted long enough to make Sean squirm, but she refused to look away. She hated the thought that he held himself responsible for his fiancée’s death. Finally, his eyes softened.
“Thank you,” he said, and held their hands up to inspect the ring. “I’ve worn this for so long, it’s became more of a habit than a conscious act of pride, like it used to be.” He smiled. “I am proud of it. Thanks for the reminder.”
It made Sean feel good to bring attention to something Nathan used to hold so special. She was glad he’d found it again. “You’re very welcome.”
“Hey, Captain Nathan, why are you holding Mama’s hand?” Willa asked. She stood before them now, her bare feet sinking into the sand. The thoughtful expression lifted her eyebrows and scrunched her little nose. “Are you scared she’s gonna fall or something?”
Nathan inspected Sean closely. “Yeah, maybe,” he answered Willa. “I just want your mama to know I’m here to catch her,” he said without breaking his gaze, “if she falls.”
Sean’s breath quickened.
“Did you hear that, Mama?” Willa said. “You don’t have to be scared of falling. Captain Nathan will catch you!”
Sean nodded. “I know.” And really, she couldn’t think of another thing to say with Nathan looking at her the way he was. It’d been just Sean and Willa for so long. The thought of having someone—having Nathan—there to catch her if she fell? It almost seemed unfathomable to have a champion. Of having support, of having someone in her corner.
Just then a horn blasted, and Willa squealed.
“Last tour has ended,” Nathan announced, and stopped the swing with his foot. “Are you girls ready for the personal tour?”
“Yes!” Willa exclaimed.
Together they walked, Willa between them, hand in hand, and entered the lighthouse by a side door marked Employees Only. Inside, Nathan led them through the main floor. Black-and-white photographs hugged the walls—pictures of a family, of a man and a woman, and their little boy, obviously adored. Some of the photos were a bit grainy, but there were a few of little Jep up close. Sean bent close to one showcasing a grinning little boy missing a front tooth. As they progressed farther around the circular wall, the photos showed Jep growing up. She spied a photo of him as a teen, standing next to his parents. She drew close and couldn’t help the smile.
“Oh, my gosh, Nathan,” she said, and he bent beside her. She turned her head and met his green gaze. “You
do look just like him.”
“Crazy, huh?” he said, and Sean could see the pride in his expression.
“That’s King Jep?” Willa said, rising on her tiptoes to get a better view.
Nathan picked her up so she could look closely. “Yep. When he was just a young man.”
They continued around the circular wall of photos, and as Jep Malone grew older, his parents did, as well. Soon Jep had a family, and a little boy of his own.
“Owen.” Sean grinned.
“Yep,” Nathan agreed. “The one and only.”
Soon, Owen began to grow, have his own wife, then a son. Sean pulled close to the photograph. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, and gave a soft chuckle. “Weren’t you just adorable?”
Nathan chuckled. “I certainly was.”
“Can we climb to the top now?” Willa said.
“Absolutely,” Nathan agreed. He set her down then led them to a single door. He opened it and gave a bow. “Ladies first.”
Willa squealed and darted through, and began the long ascent to the top, Sean close behind her with Nathan bringing up the rear. The stairwell was damp, somewhat musty, a lot salty and dimly lit. Finally, at the top, Willa waited for Nathan to open the door with his key, then they walked out to the platform. The sun was nothing more than a fireball now, dropping inland behind them. Gulls cried and soared right by them, and Willa’s little fingers wrapped around the iron rail as she squealed with delight.
“Mama, look. The birds are right there!” she said in amazement, and reached out as if to touch one. When a gull landed on the railing not five feet away, Willa’s gape-mouthed expression made Sean and Nathan laugh.
“It must be really something,” Sean said a few moments later as they watched the sky grow darker, and the faintest of stars emerged.
“What’s that?” Nathan asked, and draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to him.
“To know your family’s history for generations,” she admitted. She noticed the diamonds in the water, shimmering their last few sparkles of the evening. “To know where you come from, so far back.” She looked at Nathan, only to find he was watching her closely. “To know who you are. Who your family is.” She turned back to the sea. “To be proud of your lineage.” Her thoughts skipped through her own childhood. She’d had lots of foster parents. Foster siblings. They’d not been bad. She, though, had been. She’d rebelled. Run away. Many, many times. She had no lineage. No heritage. Nothing substantial, anyway.
