“Properties don’t come available on Captiva often, especially a home like this one. I don't want you to wait for someday toafford to live here,” he said. “Life is too short and too uncertain to put your dreams on hold.”
“Dad.” Becca's voice was thick. “We want this. We really do. But the finances are complicated. We have savings, but between the down payment and the renovations, we'd be stretched thin. Chris' increase in salary from Summit Compass won't kick in fully until the Florida branch is running, and my residency pay is barely enough to cover groceries.”
Crawford nodded slowly. “I figured as much. That's why I want to help.”
“Help how?” Christopher asked.
“The down payment.” Crawford held up a hand before either of them could protest. “I've done well over the years. The business is solid, the investments have grown, and I don't need much at this stage of my life. Ciara and I have talked about it. We want to give you money toward the down payment. It should be enough to get you to the twenty percent number you need. It’s not a loan, it’s a gift.”
Becca stared at him. “Dad, we can't accept that. That’s your money for retirement.”
“You can and you will.” Crawford's voice was firm but gentle. “Consider it an early inheritance if that makes it easier to swallow. Or consider it a wedding gift, since I never gave you a proper one. Or consider it a grandfather's investment in his granddaughter's future. I don't care what you call it. I just want to help.”
Ciara spoke for the first time, her Italian accent softening the words. “Your father has been planning this since you told us you were staying in Florida. He wanted to wait for the right moment, the right house. This is the right house, Becca. I can see it in your face.”
Becca looked at Christopher, who looked as stunned as she felt. They had discussed asking her father for advice, maybe even a small loan. She hadn’t expected that he would gift them such alarge amount of money. His help would remove the biggest obstacle standing between them and the house they wanted.
“Crawford,” Christopher said slowly. “This is incredibly generous. I don’t know what to say.”
Crawford got up from his chair and crossed the room . He placed his hand on Christopher's shoulder. “You're a good man, Chris. You've been through more than most people could handle, and you've come out the other side stronger. You take care of Becca, you take care of Eloise, and you're building something important with Summit Compass. I'm not offering this because I think you can't manage on your own. I'm offering because I want to. Because helping my daughter build her life is what fathers do, and it’s what her mother would have wanted.”
Christopher stood and embraced his father-in-law. Becca watched them, tears streaming down her face, and felt Ciara's hand squeeze hers gently.
“Thank you,” Christopher said, his voice rough. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. That house is going to be a lot of work. You might curse my name before it's finished.”
Christopher laughed and stepped back. “I'll take that risk.”
Crawford turned to Becca and wrapped his arms around her. She let herself be held, the way she had when she was a little girl and the world had seemed so big and frightening.
“Your mother would be so proud of you,” he murmured against her hair. “The woman you've become, the family you're building. She would have loved every minute of this.”
“I miss her,” Becca whispered.
“So do I. Every day.” Crawford pulled back and looked at her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “But she's still here. In you, in your brothers, in my beautiful granddaughter. Love doesn't end, sweetheart. It just changes.”
Becca nodded, unable to speak. She thought about the house on Captiva, about the dock where her children could learn to fish, the yard where they could run and play, the kitchen whereshe would burn dinner and laugh about it. She thought about her mother, who would never meet her children, and felt a fierce determination to keep her memory alive for them.
“We should call Devon,” she said finally. “Tell him we want to make an offer.”
Christopher already had his phone in his hand. “Way ahead of you.”
He stepped onto the porch to make the call, and Becca watched him through the window. Her husband. The father of her child. The man who had walked through fire and come out the other side ready to build something new.
Ciara appeared beside her with a cup of tea, pressing it into her hands. “It's chamomile. Good for the nerves.”
“Thank you.” Becca took a sip, the warmth spreading through her chest. “Thank you for everything. For being here, for loving my dad, for all of it.”
“Your father is easy to love,” Ciara said simply. “And so are you. This family welcomed me from the start. Helping you is not a sacrifice. It is a joy.”
Crawford had settled back into his recliner, looking pleased with himself. “Now,” he said, picking up his book. “Someone tell me about this Summit Compass Florida. Chris mentioned adaptive surfing. I want details.”
Becca chuckled.9 “Trust me, when Chris is finished talking to Devon, I have no doubt he’ll tell you all about it for the next hour.”
Through the window, she could see Christopher pacing on the porch, phone pressed to his ear, gesturing with his free hand the way he always did when he was excited. The stars had come out over the water, scattered across the sky like scattered diamonds.
Somewhere on Captiva, a house sat empty, waiting to be loved. And Becca Wheeler was going to love it back to life.
