“There’s a set of stairs that take you right to it.”
Dara nodded and turned to face Linda.
“If there’s anything at all that you need, you only have to give us a call.” Linda handed over a slip of paper with several numbers on it. “We want you to feel at home here.”
“I’m not sure it’s possible to feel at home anywhere anymore.”
“It is,” Linda said. “It’s going to take some time, but you’ll get there.”
Dara looked directly at Linda. In her eyes, she saw compassion and understanding. Oliver had told her about the letter he’d written to apply for the job. “Have you been where I am?”
“Not quite, but I did lose an unborn baby who I’ve mourned for more than thirty-five years. It’s not the same as what happened to you, not even close, but…”
“Grief is grief.”
“Yes, I suppose so. I just want you to know… There’s an amazing community that lives year-round on the island, and if you’d like, I’d be happy to introduce you to our family and friends. A few of the former lighthouse keepers have interesting stories you might relate to.”
In her past life, Dara might’ve been interested in meeting new people and hearing the stories of the people who’d lived before them in the lighthouse. Now? Not so much. “We’ll see what happens.”
“Of course. The offer stands. Gansett Island is a great place to live. I hope you’ll find some peace here.”
“That’d be nice.” And with that, she’d said more to this perfect stranger than she’d said to anyone close to her in more than a year. What was there to say?
They went downstairs to where Oliver was having an animated conversation with Mr. McCarthy. That he could smile like that and make conversation with strangers made her want to punch him. What was wrong with him?
“We’ll leave you to get settled,” Mr. McCarthy said. “Did Linda give you our numbers?”
“She did,” Dara said. “Thank you.”
“Please call if there’s anything at all we can do to make you feel more comfortable,” he said.
He seemed like a nice man, someone she might’ve been interested in getting to know if things had been different.
“Thank you for meeting us,” Oliver said, shaking hands with them both before he walked them down to see them out.
He returned a few minutes later carrying suitcases that he took up to the second floor. “Wow, the view from up there is amazing,” he said as he came back down with more pep in his step than he’d had in months.
Oliver took two more trips to the car, unloading the small amount of personal items they’d packed—bed linens, towels, extra blankets, Maisy’s things and some kitchen essentials. Everything else they owned was in storage, waiting for them to figure out what would happen after this year on Gansett.
They’d sold the house where disaster had struck and could live comfortably off the proceeds for a while, but sooner or later, they’d have to go back to real work. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine working at the level she had before—or at any level, for that matter.
“Let’s make the bed,” Oliver said.
She followed him upstairs and went through the motions of putting sheets and a quilt on the bed. They’d been told there was no air conditioning in the lighthouse, but that they wouldn’t need it most of the time.
When they were finished, Oliver sat on the edge of the bed.
Since she didn’t know what else to do with herself, Dara sat next to him.
“I’m hoping we can find our way out of the nightmare here,” he said softly.
“I don’t know if that’s possible.”
It was the most they’d said to each other about their new reality in months of uncomfortable silence on the subject of Lewis and the hell they’d been living in since his death.
“We have to try, Dar. What choice do we have?”
They had no choice, but she didn’t want to try. That would take more energy than she could muster.
“Do you want to check out the beach?”
She didn’t, but she’d do it so he wouldn’t give her that soulfully imploring look that she was so tired of seeing from him. “Sure.”
Chapter 7
“There it is,” Slim Jackson said as Gansett Island came into view, and he experienced the usual feeling of homecoming after being away from his favorite place. They’d spent a rare summer week off-island in Bryn Mawr to celebrate Erin’s parents on their anniversary, but it was good to be home. “You got this, babe?”
“Uh, I think so.”
“You’re ready. All those touch-and-go landings you did in Florida last winter were getting you ready for this.” She’d piloted this entire flight, from takeoff in Philadelphia straight through to the approach to Gansett. He was sitting in the right-side seat, acting as her copilot, not that she needed one. His love was a natural with all the sensibilities of a seasoned pilot, and he’d never been prouder of any student than he was of her.
After losing her twin brother in the 9/11 attacks on New York City, Erin hadn’t stepped foot on a plane for more than a decade, until Slim had flown her home to Pennsylvania after her father took ill.
“Talk me through it, will you?”
“Nope.”
She took her eyes off the “road” long enough to glance at him in surprise. “Nope?”
“You don’t need my help. You know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course, I need your help.”
“No, you don’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “Bring us home, sweetheart.”
“If it looks like we’re going to crash, do something, will you?”
Slim laughed at her sarcastic tone. He loved her sarcasm, her humor, her sweet face and every other thing about her. She was it for him, and he’d never been happier than since she’d come into his life. Teaching her to fly had been one of the greatest thrills he’d ever experienced, and knowing what she’d overcome to get to this point made the victory that much sweeter.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her go through the steps he’d helped her to memorize. She paid attention to detail, which was one of many things that made her an excellent pilot. He was about to remind her to call in to the tower when she activated the radio and took care of that.
Slim smiled, his chest bursting with pride as she lined up the final approach and brought them in for a smooth, perfect landing. “Hot damn! Look at you go!”
Her delighted laughter filled him with unreasonable joy. “I did it!”
“You did it. You’re ready to solo.”
“Hell, no, I am not.” She taxied them expertly to the spot on the tarmac where he always parked the plane and cut the engines. “That’s not happening.”
“Erin, honey, look at me.”
She turned to him, albeit reluctantly.
Slim took her chin and looked her in the eyes. “You are ready.”
“I don’t want to solo. I don’t want to be licensed. What I’ve already done is more than enough for me. It’s way more than I ever thought I’d ever do. Remember when I didn’t think I’d ever get on a plane again?”