by Lisa Carter
“I’d—I’d be honored, sir. It’s my two days off.”
Honey’s father studied him. Sawyer remained still under his gristly-browed scrutiny, ready to take whatever blow Seth dealt him. Something Sawyer had learned from his no-good drunken excuse for a father.
The older man blew a breath out between his lips. “Braeden’s right,” he declared in that gravelly smoker voice of his. “You’re not the same brash boy who left here three years ago.”
Oh, how Sawyer prayed he wasn’t.
Sawyer trained his eyes on the inlet that meandered past the barrier islands until emptying into the Atlantic. A cormorant dive-bombed for fish in the marina. With the wind picking up, seagulls wheeled aloft in graceful figure eights.
“I know what you did for my daughter.”
His gaze swung to Honey’s father. “For your daughter, sir? Don’t you mean to your daughter?”
“The sacrifice you made.” The waterman scrubbed his hand over his stubbly jawline. “Reckon you believed you were doing her a favor. Saving her future heartache. Didn’t turn out that way, though. That’s why I put a word into Braeden’s ear. Why I asked, if possible, you receive a temporary posting to settle things once and for all.”
“You were the one?” Sawyer jammed his hands in his pockets. “I figured you’d be the one meeting me at the Bridge with a shotgun.”
The old man grinned. “Don’t think that idea didn’t cross my mind three years ago.”
Sawyer inserted his finger between his neck and his collar. And tugged. Despite the bracing sea breeze keeping the marina flags aflutter, the air had grown a bit too close for comfort.
“You’ve got your current chief, Braeden Scott, to thank for saving your life once upon a spring night.”
“Chief’s been a good friend. Better than I deserved. The brother I always wished I had.”
Tenacious about staying in touch the past three years wherever Sawyer found himself assigned. Three long years when all he could do was lick his wounds and work hard to make his CG mentor proud.
“Braeden also told me about your past, son.”
Sawyer reddened. “He shouldn’t have done that, sir. I—I—” He dropped his eyes to the gray-weathered planks unable to face Seth Duer.
The old man heaved a sigh. “I understand better than you could ever know.”
He darted a glance at the waterman’s face as a faraway look crossed Seth Duer’s stern countenance. “I’m not the kind of man Honey deserved. Wouldn’t have been a welcome addition to the Duer clan like Braeden.”
Seth gave him a faint smile. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that or Honey if I were you.”
He opened his palms. “I promise you, Mr. Duer, I’ll stay far away from Honey till my permanent reassignment comes through. Braeden—I mean Chief Scott—promised if I’d give it through Labor Day, he’d arrange a transfer.”
“Well, here’s the thing, son.” Seth removed his Nandua Warriors ball cap and resettled it upon his head. “Honey ain’t that sweetly naive girly-girl you remember. In fact, she’s become a highly driven, successful entrepreneur with more sharp edges than a barracuda.”
Sawyer clamped his lips together.
“The Martha Stewart wannabe has become the Hostess with the Mostest on our fair Eastern Shore.” Seth ground his teeth. “She’s about to drive us crazy with her doilies and tea cakes and dressed-to-impress agenda. She’s about driven me out of house and home.”
Seth drew his brows together in a frown. “Not to mention every man within a Shore-wide radius, including the ever-faithful Charlie Pruitt—”
Bracing himself, Sawyer squared his jaw.
“—Driven us stark raving insane with her prickly, self-imposed perfectionism.”
Something tightened in Sawyer’s chest.
“After pondering long and hard on the situation,” Honey’s father took a cleansing breath. “We—the Duer clan—need your help.”
“Need my help? How?”
“The girl,” Seth rolled his tongue over his teeth. “I’m speaking plainly to you now, son. The girl needs a course direction. She needs to be reeled in and brought to her senses before it’s too late. Before she drives away everyone who tries to love her. The hurt’s festering in her soul. She won’t let it heal. No time for life. No time for love. No house, no career can fill the emptiness inside that girl.”
Guilt for his part in Honey’s pain ate Sawyer alive.
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to make things right for her.” Sawyer gave a hopeless shrug. “But she hates me, Mr. Duer. Flat out can’t stand the sight of me, not that I blame her.”
Honey’s dad eyed him. “Thought you Coastie boys were perceptive.” Seth stroked his bristly mustache with his index finger. “Hatred, I assure you, son, is not what that girl of mine feels for you. Quite the opposite, I imagine.”
Sawyer shuffled his feet. “I’ll apologize to her again—in a less dangerous setting than the Sandpiper—”
Old Man Duer grinned, rearranging the wrinkles on his face.
“—So she and—” This part made Sawyer want to puke right into the tidal marsh. “So Honey and that—that Charlie Pruitt can find their happily-ever-after.”
“Pruitt, huh?” Seth grunted. “Love is so wasted on the young.” His mouth contorted. “The both of you make me tired. After the work that went into getting ’Melia and Braeden together, I hoped I was done with the hard cases. I’m too old for this romantic nonsense.”
The waterman squelched in his Wellingtons a few feet toward the parking zone until turning. “You got till Labor Day to clean up this mess with Honey and bring back my sweet girl, Petty Officer Kole. You owe me. You owe Honey that much. You read me?”
Sawyer’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Loud and clear, sir. Loud and clear.”
Chapter Three
“What were you thinking, Honey?” her sister scolded. “Though that’s the problem, I expect. One look at Sawyer Kole and you stopped thinking. Just reacted.”
Honey fluffed the pillow behind Amelia’s head. “Yeah. I saw red.”
Amelia smirked. “Red like a Valentine heart.”
“Kole should be so lucky.”
Honey made an effort to wrest her mind from the recent unpleasantness. “Anyway, I’m thrilled you, Max and Braeden are Shoreside. It may not be Hawaii, but it’s good to finally have you home.”
Amelia patted a spot beside her on the bed. “The past two years have been incredible with Braeden assigned to the Pacific fleet.” She winked. “Great place for a honeymoon, too.”
Honey eased next to her sister. “Don’t go getting any ideas. Sawyer and I are so not happening. And don’t think the doctor putting you on bed rest this last month of your pregnancy is going to save you from the Wrath of Honey after what you, Braeden and Dad pulled. Y’all got him reassigned. Thanks a lot. Exactly what I didn’t need.”
“Just trying to achieve closure for you, baby sis. With Sawyer or not, time for you to move on toward everything God has for your future.” Amelia arched an eyebrow. “I remember you once laid that line on me when I dithered over whether to trust Braeden.”
Honey stood abruptly, moving to the window. A gentle sea breeze rustled the shade trees that studded the front lawn of the Duer Lodge. “I also told you Braeden’s the picture in the dictionary beside gentleman and trustworthy.”
She fingered the lacy curtain and peered down the length of the white picket fence lining the edge of the tidal creek property. “Trust me when I tell you, Sawyer Kole is neither of those qualities.”
Honey twisted the pearl on her earlobe. Mom’s pearl earrings. That and this house were her last links to the mother she’d lost when only a little older than Max.
“I know he hurt you, Honey. I’d never make light of the pain you’ve
suffered, but perhaps he had his reasons, which seemed right to him at the time.”
Honey whirled. “Reasons? That’s what Sawyer said.” She clenched her fist. “What reason could there possibly be for torpedoing the future I was stupid enough to...?” She paced Amelia’s childhood bedroom. “That arrogant, no-good cowboy—”
Amelia ignored her and retrieved the sketchpad and pencil she’d left on the nightstand. “Before you go all judgmental, you might want to consider Sawyer might have wounds of his own you know nothing about.”
Honey halted. “You know something, don’t you?”
Chewing the inside of her cheek, Amelia buried her head in her sketches.
“You know what made him break off the relationship... You’ve got to tell me.” Honey flopped on the bed. “Amelia, look at me.” She grabbed for Amelia’s arm.
The pencil swerved in Amelia’s hand.
“Honey...” Amelia groaned. “I’m on a deadline. My publisher expects these Hawaiian rainforest birds finished, bed rest and romantic crisis or not.”
Amelia ripped off the ruined drawing. “And no, I’m not going to tell you what I know. It’s Sawyer’s story to tell. If you’d give him a chance—”
“Give him another go at my heart? I think not. I’d sooner be oyster roasted.” Honey flung out her hands. “Clam baked. Crab deviled.”
“Stop with the food analogies. You’re making me hungry.” Amelia skimmed her fingertips over her basketball-size belly. “Baby, too. And I’m already the size of a beached whale.”
Honey’s lips quirked. “An attractive beached whale, though.”
“Love you, too, sister.” But Amelia smiled.
Honey folded her arms over her pink It’s a Shore Thang T-shirt. “Speaking of the baby, you and Braeden need to talk to Max. He’s not dealing so well with ‘Baby Makes Four.’”
She relayed her conversation with Max at the Sandpiper.
Amelia’s gaze roamed to her wedding photo on the bureau. “I thought we dealt with his insecurity before we left Hawaii. He loved it there, but he was so happy to come home to his old room and see you and Dad.”
Honey picked up the picture frame. “Glad to see his dog, Blackie, you mean. Dad and I missed you, too.” She studied the photo of Amelia’s gorgeous barrier island wedding.
“Such a happy day. Three years ago this Labor Day.”
“Now a different kind of labor day awaits.”
Amelia mock-groaned and reached for the pillow behind her back.
Honey laughed and skipped out of range. “And school starts as usual the day after, but I’ve promised Max we’ll go clamming in between visitors this weekend. Dad will keep him busy as first mate on the fishing charters, too.”
“May not be many charters.” Amelia cut her eyes toward the window. “Sky’s still blue, but Dad says his bones tell him a storm’s coming.”
Honey massaged her forehead. “Please, no. Not before the Labor Day weekend. It’s summer’s last hurrah and I can’t afford any cancellations.”
She shifted from one fuchsia polka dot flip-flop to the other. “Maybe the storm will weaken once it leaves the Caribbean. Better yet, give the Shore a wide berth and blow itself far, far out to sea.”
Amelia shrugged. “If an Eastern Shoreman like Dad thinks it’s coming...”
“It’s coming,” Honey moaned.
“Which means Braeden and the station crew will be busy preparing for the worst case scenario. You know their motto, Always Ready.”
“Coasties.” Honey set the photo with a firm thud onto the pine bureau. “You’ve gone soft with marriage and a new baby, ’Melia.”
Amelia sent a pointed look in Honey’s direction. “And you’ve gone cynical and bitter.”
Honey tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Courtesy of a Coastie and the pain of unrequited love.”
“You sure it’s unrequited?”
Honey batted her eyes. “Pretty sure since he’s the one who left me crying on the beach.”
“What happened to the Duer sister who dreamed of reopening the Duer Lodge? Who single-handedly restored this old house? Who juggles finicky tourists, placates jittery brides and also manages to keep dear ole Dad on the straight and narrow with his heart medication?”
Honey spun on her heel. “I’ll tell you what happened to her. Sawyer Kole happened to her. Plus a stagnant economy. Tourism in the tank. The yet unpaid debt on the remodel. I’m not bitter. I’m a realist.”
“I liked the old Honey better.”
Honey fought to keep her lips from trembling. Actually, so did she. But she’d never admit that to Amelia or anyone else. She’d poured all her passion and all her drive into making the inn an Eastern Shore vacation and wedding destination.
Talk about black holes? She felt as if she’d fallen into one ever since Sawyer walked out of her life. And truth be told, she didn’t know how to free herself from the whirling maelstrom of doubt and sadness in which she found herself trapped.
“So you don’t believe in second chances, Honey? In forgiveness?”
“Why should I? Not like Lindi ever got a second chance before getting creamed by the drunk driver. Or Mom before the cancer killed her.”
Amelia sucked in a breath. “Honey... I never knew you felt that way.”
“Yeah, that was the old Honey. Smile though your heart is breaking. But you know my new motto, There’s Nothing Life Throws at You That Sweet Tea And the Duer Lodge Can’t Cure.”
“Maybe you should give forgiveness a try.”
“Maybe God should have given Mom and Lindi another chance.”
Amelia’s mouth quivered. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re mad at God.”
“Oh, I’m not just mad at God. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad for trusting that cowboy Coastie in the first place. Believing we could ever have a life together.”
She jutted her chin. “Well, I’ve made a life. A life for myself right here on the Shore. A life without Sawyer Kole. I’ve created an oasis of calm and elegance and class where no one can ever hurt me again.”
Amelia caught hold of her hand. “Sounds like a lonely life. I’m sorry Braeden got reassigned so soon after we were married. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for your happily-ever-after, big sis.” She gently extricated herself from Amelia’s grasp. “You deserve every happiness in the world.”
“So do you, baby sis.”
Honey leaned and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m not that baby you and Dad have to watch out for anymore, ’Melia. I’m grown up now, and I can take care of myself. This inn proves it.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me or Dad, Honey.”
“Prove it to myself then. And this town. Especially after the way I acted the fool despite your warnings about here today, gone tomorrow Coasties. You were kind to never say ‘I told you so.’ Some of the older village ladies weren’t so kind, believe me.”
“Is that why you haven’t been to church in a year? You know how those town ladies talk. Too much time on their hands. Besides, we grew up worshipping there. It’s always been such a safe haven, a sanctuary of peace.”
“A safe haven for you maybe. Not for me.” Honey pushed back her shoulders. “This house is my sanctuary.”
“Oh, Honey...”
“It’s true. Only safe haven I need. And anyway, Sunday morning breakfasts are a big deal. Part of the advertised package. A long, leisurely time for guests to relax before checking out and returning to their stressful off-Shore lives.”
Amelia frowned. “I’m not going to stop praying for you. And for your happily-ever-after, too.”
“Pray away. Though I’d appreciate it more if you and God could get this storm to take a detour away from the Easter
n Shore and my bottom line. Not everybody is lucky enough to have a Max and Braeden in their life.”
“Not lucky, Honey. Blessed.”
“Whatever. Speaking of Max, time for me to pick him up at Mr. Billy’s house. He was excited about feeding the baby goats, but I promised Max as soon as I got you settled we’d spend the rest of the afternoon clamming in the tidal marsh.”
After leaving her sister, Honey did a quick check of the guest bedrooms in the Victorian inn. Fresh towels hung from the en suite bathrooms she’d installed at tremendous cost. She’d already changed the sumptuous bed linens before leaving for the Sandpiper this morning.
She’d have a full house this weekend if the storm didn’t scare the tourists away. And the big wedding scheduled on the lawn for Sunday should be fine. Although the bride from off-Shore with her last-minute demands might make Honey lose her carefully wrought reputation for no-hitch weddings, not to mention her mind. But with the deep-pocketed father of the bride renting out the entire property—inn, cabin and dock—for the day, Honey could afford to give his diva daughter some leeway.
Her current guests were no doubt busy kayaking through the Inner Passage off Kiptohanock. Birding, boating and doing a hundred other Eastern Shore activities she and the Accomack County Tourist Board had worked so hard to highlight. So far, so good. This season had been a tremendous success and blessing—she grimaced.
Amelia, get out of my head.
With registration complete for the day and her guests otherwise occupied till breakfast the next morning, the rest of the day belonged to Honey. She had yeast rolls rising in the commercial-grade kitchen and a load of laundry going in the front-loading washer on the back screened porch. Off limits to non-Duers.
She trailed her hand down the graceful, curving bannister as she did a look-see of the downstairs common area. Guests found her dad’s piecrust table checkerboard folksy. The sea glass and driftwood decor she’d collected from the barrier island charming and beachy. The knotted pine interior rustic and homey.
Homey Honey. That was her.
