The morning passed in a blur of activity. Isabella helped Mrs. Hurling with breakfast service, then moved on to prep work for the inn’s lunch service. Her hands moved through familiar motions while her mind spun with worry she couldn’t quite shake.
Just after lunch, Isabella realized she needed supplies from St. Augustine. Several specialty ingredients for the weekend’s catering jobs that she couldn’t get locally. She was debating whether to go alone or ask someone to watch Maddy when Christopher appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Want company?” he asked, as if he’d sensed her hesitation about leaving Maddy.
“Are you sure? I know you’re busy with the ballroom.”
“We’re at a good stopping point,” Christopher assured her. “Besides, I could use a break from manual labor.”
Isabella was reaching for her purse when Jane appeared, Trinity and Maddy trailing behind her. “I was going to take the girls and Duke to the beach for a couple of hours,” Jane said. “Give them a break from being cooped up inside. Wouldthat be okay?”
Isabella opened her mouth to agree, then hesitated. The beach. Public and open. What if Todd showed up? What if he approached Maddy when Isabella wasn’t there?
Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. “Maddy’s father contacted her last night. He’s trying to use her to manipulate me into giving him money.” She swallowed hard. “I’m worried he might try to approach her if he knows where she is.”
Jane’s expression shifted, the usual walls in her eyes dropping away to reveal genuine warmth and concern. It was the first time Isabella had seen that kind of openness from Jane, and it made her chest tight with unexpected emotion.
“I’ll look after her,” Jane said firmly. “We’re taking Duke with us, and I promise I won’t let her out of my sight. If anyone tries to approach them, they’ll have to go through me and eighty pounds of very protective Great Dane.”
“Thank you,” Isabella managed, her voice thick with gratitude.
As she and Christopher left the inn, Isabella couldn’t shake a lingering feeling of unease. She tried to ignore it, told herself she was just being paranoid after yesterday’s confrontation and last night’s message. Maddy was safe with Jane. Everything would be fine.
The drive into St. Augustine was peaceful, the afternoon sun warm through the windshield. Christopher had insisted on driving, and Isabella found herself relaxing into the passenger seat, watching the familiar landscape roll by.
They made their way through her errands efficiently, stopping at the specialty food store, the restaurant supply shop, and the farmer’s market for fresh produce. Christopher carried bags without complaint and asked intelligent questions about ingredients and cooking techniques that made Isabella smile despite her lingering worry.
“You’re getting pretty good at this assistant chef thing,” she teased as they loaded the last bags into the car.
“I have an excellent teacher,” Christopher said, and the warmth in his voice made her pulse skip.
“How about lunch?” he suggested. “There’s a great little café near the river. My treat.”
Isabella agreed, and they found themselves at a charming outdoor café overlooking the Matanzas River. They ordered sandwiches and sat at a small table, watching boats drift by and tourists stroll along the waterfront.
After they ate, Christopher suggested a walk, and they ended up at a vendor selling roasted chestnuts. The smell was heavenly, and soon they were strolling along the river walk with warm paper cones of chestnuts, just talking.
“Tell me about your parents,” Isabella said, genuinely curious about the man who’d become so important to her in such a short time.
Christopher was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “They were both career military. Army. They met during a deployment and got married quickly, the waymilitary people sometimes do.” He paused, cracking open a chestnut. “They loved each other, I think. But they loved the Army more. Or at least, they loved it as much.”
“That must have been hard,” Isabella said softly.
“Holly basically raised me,” Christopher continued. “My parents were deployed more often than they were home. By the time I was ten, I spent more nights at the Bennett house than my own.” He smiled slightly. “Gabe and I have been brothers since we could walk. Trinity calls me uncle because that’s basically what I am.”
“Do you resent them? Your parents?” Isabella asked him.
Christopher considered the question seriously. “When they both died in a training accident when I was in my late teens, I was heartbroken. But not as much as I thought I’d be, which made me feel guilty.” He looked at Isabella, something vulnerable in his eyes. “Truthfully, I think I’m going to feel more one day if anything happens to Holly or Charlie. They’re my real family, you know? The people who were there for every scraped knee and bad grade and teenage crisis.”
Isabella understood that completely. “I lost my mother when I was four,” she said quietly. “She had cancer. I barely remember her —just impressions, really. The smell of perfume. The sound of her laugh. My father tried his best after that, but being a single cop with a little girl was hard.”
“How did you lose him?” Christopher’s eyes held hers.
“He was killed in the line of duty,” Isabella said, the old pain still there but worn smooth by years. “I was eight. He was responding to a domestic violence call, and the situation went bad. He died trying to protect a woman and her children.”
“I’m sorry,” Christopher said, and she could hear that he meant it.
“My grandmother was there for me,” Isabella continued, finding comfort in sharing this with him. “She raised me, taught me everything. How to cook, how to be strong, how to stand on my own two feet.” She smiled at the memories. “When I came back to Anastasia Island pregnant and alone, she didn’t judge me. She just opened her arms and her home and helped me with Maddy. She was there for every midnight feeding, diaper change, and milestone.”
