Beth and I had run wild in the forest and to the pond on the property. I remembered begging our parents to move to Anchor Island permanently, but they’d always forced us to return to our lives in Northern California. Ones that required uncomfortable school uniforms and society parties.
And when I lost them, the people I’d loved most in this world, I’d let the farmhouse fall away. I’d been so young. But even after I’d come to my senses, I hadn’t been able to face this place or the memories it held. And in doing so, I’d let my favorite sanctuary almost be destroyed. It was a miracle the house hadn’t been burned to the ground.
Sheriff Raines had met me here the first day I returned. I’d nearly lost my lunch in the bushes when I saw the place. He’d offered to recommend some quality contractors to help with the vast number of repairs, but I’d politely declined. Instead, I’d done something insane. I’d vowed to do all the work myself.
It was part atonement, part grieving process. And I’d grown to love the work. A small shop space sat a few hundred feet from the main house and had gone mostly untouched. After a thorough cleaning, I’d made the space my home for the first year I was back on Anchor. It had taken longer than I’d hoped for the permits and to make sure there were no structural issues.
Now, I was living in the main house. I’d gone room by room, starting with the master suite. I’d hauled garbage, repaired walls and windows, refinished floors, and painted so many things I’d lost track. But I now had the master, kitchen, office, and one other bedroom in livable condition.
The kitchen was my greatest feat. I wasn’t sure why I’d poured so much time and money into a space I only used for coffee and frozen meals. But it looked like a dream. Maybe it was because my mother had loved the space so much. When we were in Marin, our family had a chef. But here on the island, my mother had always done the cooking. She loved seeing the smiles on Beth’s and my faces when she would call us in for a slice of berry cobbler or to sample a fresh batch of cookies.
I gave my head a shake, trying to clear the onslaught of memories. I had known this room would be the hardest. I focused back on the trash strewn across the hardwood floors. Some of the boards would need to be replaced, having swollen from being exposed to the sea air for such a long time.
As much as I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, I couldn’t stop the visions from swamping me—the brown-haired little girl sitting on this very floor, begging me to play Barbies with her. I squeezed my eyes closed, willing the images away. It was too much.
I tore off my work gloves and strode out of the room. I needed to get out and away—anything to distract me from the ghosts that haunted me here.
I climbed out of my truck in the parking lot of The General Store. Why was it that I always ended up here? There was just something about the brown-haired beauty who worked at the kitchen inside. Normally, people who shined with that life-is-beautiful kind of positivity made me want to punch something. But with Caelyn, I was fascinated.
I started towards the store when a man called my name. I stiffened and turned, expecting to see a stranger, maybe one of the reporters still holding out hope that I’d share my story with the world. The set of my shoulders eased a bit when I saw that it was Ford Hardy, owner of The Catch Bar & Grill. I said nothing but waited for the man to make his approach. He wasn’t a stranger exactly, but I had no desire for idle chitchat.
“I’ve been hoping to run into you,” he greeted.
I stayed silent.
Ford chuckled. “Not too talkative, are you?”
“Not much to say, I guess.”
Ford’s expression grew serious. “I just wanted to thank you for your help a few months back.”
“I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t do.” Ford had been attacked by someone sick in the head. He’d been jumped from behind and knocked unconscious. I’d just come along at the right time.
“Either way, thank you.” He held out a hand, and I took it for a shake. “Come into the bar sometime. I’ll treat you to a beer and a meal. It’s the least I can do.”
I fought the wince that wanted to surface. The last thing I wanted was to sit around at the island watering hole. People whispered, thinking they were being discreet when they were anything but. Even worse, they sometimes thought it was completely acceptable to approach and ask me a million intrusive questions. “I’ll try and come by.”
Ford grinned. “I’m taking that as a fat chance in hell.”
My lips twitched. “You’re not a stupid man.”
“Thank God for that. Well, if I can ever do anything to repay you, just let me know. My brother’s a contractor. We could give you a couple of days on that house of yours if you’d like.”
My jaw tightened. “I’m good. But thanks for the offer.”
Ford nodded and gave me a wave before heading back towards The Catch. “There’s no expiration date on that.”
I wouldn’t take Ford up on his offer of help unless I got desperate. I needed to do this on my own. I started towards the store. Pulling the creaking screen door open, I walked inside. It was still a bit early, but when 4:00 a.m. was your usual wakeup call, 4:30 p.m. was just about perfect for dinner. Plus, I could avoid the after-work crowd.
I made my way towards the kitchen at the far end of the grocery but stopped in my tracks when I heard Caelyn’s voice.
“Is there any way you could give me more hours? Or more of the bookkeeping to do?”
Mr. Walters, the owner of the store, chuckled. “You’re doing it all already, deary. I barely show up here anymore.”
“Well, do you know of anyone else who might be looking for some help for things I could do from home?” she pressed.
“Are the two jobs you have not enough? You’re gonna work yourself to the bone. And you need to be home for those kids.”
“I know.” Caelyn’s voice seemed to deflate on the words. “But Mia got accepted into this gymnastics program, and it costs an arm and a leg.”
Walters’ voice gentled. “I’d be happy to loan you the fees—”
“No,” Caelyn cut Mr. Walters off. “You’ve done more than enough for us.”
A foreign feeling invaded my chest. A twisting sensation that burned. I’d heard the talk around the island that Caelyn had taken in her three younger siblings after their parents had been involved in some sort of drug bust. I couldn’t imagine taking all that on when she must’ve been barely more than a child herself.
I cleared my throat, stepping around the end of the aisle. Caelyn looked up, the frown marring her gorgeous face quickly turning into a bright smile. “Griffin. It’s good to see you. Have you finally given in to trying one of my salads?”
I gave my head a shake. “I think I’ll stick with the sandwich.”
Walters grinned. “I don’t know, Caelyn can make kale pretty tasty.”
I didn’t try to fight the twisting of my face. “No, thank you.”
Walters chuckled. “Maybe another day. All right, I’m off.” He turned to Caelyn. “You let me know if you change your mind.”
Caelyn reached up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to the old man’s cheek. “Thank you.”