JUNE
The house felt too quiet without the familiar sounds of her granddaughters’ chatter and laughter. Grace and Becky had been so apologetic about their sleepover plans with the Peltz sisters, not wanting to leave when June and Carmen had just arrived. But they’d arranged to stay with Katey and Zoe weeks ago, before anyone knew June would be coming for an extended visit.
Honestly, June was grateful for the solitude after the emotional upheaval of the day. Between the long drive from Miami, fainting on the beach, and coming face to face with Holt after thirty-eight years, she felt wrung out like an old dishrag.
She settled onto the living room couch with a cup of chamomile tea, the television tuned to an old black-and-white movie that she wasn’t really watching. Her mind kept drifting to the image of Holt’s face when he’d caught her on the beach, the way he’d said her name as if no time had passed at all.
The distant wail of sirens had been a constant backdrop for the past few hours, reminding her that somewhere in the darkness, a fire was raging through the forest near the campgrounds. Everynews update made her stomach clench with worry for Willa and Carmen, both of whom were somewhere in that smoky chaos doing the jobs they’d dedicated their lives to.
June’s phone buzzed with a text message, and she jumped, her tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her mug. It was just a weather alert, but her nerves were so frayed that every sound seemed amplified.
She switched channels again, hoping for an update on the fire, but the local news was still running their regular programming. In a town the size of Sandpiper Shores, emergency coverage was limited to what the volunteer radio station could manage.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made June’s heart race. She set down her mug and hurried to the front window, hoping to see either Willa’s SUV or Carmen’s sedan. Instead, she watched in growing dismay as Andy climbed out of an unfamiliar pickup truck, followed by Tyler and Holt.
June’s legs felt unsteady as she made her way to the front door, her pulse hammering in her throat. She took a deep breath and opened the door just as the trio reached the porch steps.
“Hi, Gran,” Andy greeted her, his face streaked with what looked like soot. “Mom said it was okay for Tyler to stay over tonight. His great-grandmother is helping at the clinic with all the people from the fire.”
June forced a smile, trying to ignore the way her heart lurched every time she looked at Holt. “Of course, sweetheart.”
“I offered to help with the investigation,” Holt explained, his voice carefully neutral. “They’re short-handed at both the police and fire departments right now.”
June nodded, recalling Willa’s mention of staffing challenges. Fire season always stretched resources thin, and several experienced firefighters had recently taken positions in larger cities. The Fire Chief was supposed to arrive in a few days to discuss recruitment and training with Willa.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” June managed, hoping her voice sounded steadier than her legs felt.
“We’re going to get cleaned up,” Andy announced. “We smell like smoke from the fire.”
Alarm shot through June like electricity. “You were at the fire?”
“We just stopped by,” Andy said, his expression growing serious. “I wanted to make sure Mom and Aunt Carmen were okay.”
June’s heart squeezed with understanding. Of course, he had. Despite his teenage bravado, Andy was still a boy who’d lost his father to fire, who lived with the constant awareness that his mother faced danger every time she went to work.
“How are they?” June asked. “There hasn’t been any news about the fire on television.”
“They’re fine,” Andy assured her, crossing the porch to give her a quick hug. “They’re going to be fine, Gran.”
The solid warmth of his embrace steadied her more than she’d expected. “Thank you for checking on them, sweetheart.”
June pulled back with a theatrical grimace. “Tyler wasn’t kidding about the smoke smell.” She laughed despite her anxiety. “You really do reek. Both of you, go get cleaned up.”
The boys headed inside, leaving June alone on the porch with Holt. He stood at the bottom of the steps, holding two paper bags from what appeared to be Teacups Coffee Shop.
“I brought some food,” Holt said, lifting the bags slightly. “Margo thought you might not have eaten, and I know teenage boys are always hungry. Especially as our meal was interrupted when they evacuated us from the restaurant.”
“Thank you,” June replied automatically, then caught herself reaching for her purse. “How much do I owe?—”
“Margo sent them,” Holt interrupted, his jaw clenching in a way June remembered all too well. He’d always hated it when people tried to turn his thoughtful gestures into transactions, as if kindness required immediate repayment.
“I should get going,” Holt continued, his tone cooling noticeably. “I told Chief Morrison I’d come back and walk the fire site with him and the investigation team.”
“With Willa?” The question slipped out before June could stop it, her maternal instincts overriding her determination to maintain emotional distance.
“Yes, she’s the Fire Captain,” Holt reminded her, then paused, something flickering across his expression. “Don’t worry, June. I won’t tell her our little secret.”
June’s blood turned to ice water. “What secret?”
