“That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“That’ll give you something else to do while you’re waiting to hear back on your proposal. You must be on pins and needles.”
“Today’s going to drag by so slowly. I keep praying it goes well, but I’m pretty sure God’s getting tired of me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” His smile, the look in his eyes, seemed full of affection.
A round of butterflies cut loose in her stomach as he pulled from the parking lot. Sadie’s heart gave a thump. She recalled the way she’d felt in his arms last night. The hug had turned into something more. Something longer. Of course, that was only because she hadn’t let go of him, but still. His effect on her was...
Well. Let’s just say it had been difficult to distinguish between the excitement of her news and the feelings he provoked.
In the quiet of the cab, she couldn’t deny the special spark between them. She recognized the common feelings of attraction, of course. But there seemed to be something more. Their friendship was shifting in a new direction.
Did she want it to?
A summer fling might be good for her in so many ways. She’d never experienced the rush of love—not that she was feeling that now. But there was the possibility of it.
She did want to find love someday. Settle down with a man and start a family—she adored children. She longed for something very different than what her parents had. She wanted a consistent, drama-free relationship that withstood life’s inevitable troubles. She wanted to have enough in common with a man that they didn’t argue over every little thing. Enough money—and unity on the way it was spent—that financial troubles didn’t put them in separate beds for weeks on end.
Or land them in divorce court.
But Sam’s life was here and hers was in New York. Was there any point in pursuing a relationship with him when it would predictably end come summer’s end?
Definitely not. She was going to have to put a lasso on this and wrestle it to the ground if need be.
Before she knew it Sam pulled along the curb in front of their house. “Don’t be disappointed. I’ll bet you can find the owner online.”
He’d apparently mistaken her silence for discouragement. She dredged up a smile as she opened her door. “I’m sure you’re right. I’ll keep you up-to-date via text.”
It was midafternoon when Sadie admitted she’d hit a dead end. She pushed her laptop away and flung herself back against the Adirondack chair. The sun beat down on her bare shoulders, making beads of sweat pop out on the back of her neck. A slight breeze ruffled the hair that had escaped her bun.
“Well, Rio, I guess we’ve hit a roadblock.”
The dog opened her eyes but didn’t lift her head from her paws.
Sadie had found the previous building owner’s name almost immediately and quickly located a short obituary. (Not very well written, she had to say.) It had been published several weeks ago in theTucker Island Gazetteand contained a long list of relatives by whom he’d been predeceased.
The man had no one who’d survived him? No wife or kids or grandkids? How was that possible? She’d even looked him up in online directories and made some calls, but his name, William Brown, was a common one, and she’d found no one who knew the man she was searching for.
Finally she’d texted the results of her research to Sam but hadn’t heard back from him yet.
She glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. At least the research had kept her mind occupied most of the afternoon, and the business day was almost over. The pub board had already decided her fate—she just didn’t know what it was yet. This was her only chance at another writing contract. She didn’t have time to come up with a new plot, and after the dismal sales of her Lonesome Ridge series, no other publisher would touch her.
Even if the team approved her proposal, she’d only have about ten weeks to turn in a manuscript. But she had to return to school the third week of August, and she’d need three weeks for the rewrites. So that meant she’d have roughly five weeks in which to write the first draft.
Her nerves jangled at the thought. She’d never cranked out a book that quickly, much less in a genre she’d never written in.But since the plot so closely reflected real-life events, maybe she could pull it off.
If only the team liked her idea.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket with a call. She checked the screen. Sam. Despite her discouragement about their search for the ring’s owner, she smiled because he’d never called her before. “Well, hello there.”
“Hey, I’m sorry you haven’t had much luck with your search.”
She imagined him cooling off in the shade of his truck, the air on full blast. “Yeah, I’ve looked high and low, and I can’t find any information on the guy.”
“I had an idea after I got your text. I could check around with other business owners in town. Surely someone knew something about him.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea. His name’s William Brown. Do you have any idea of how many William Browns live in the area? Seven. And I know because I called every last number listed online, and none of them knew the William Brown who recently passed. And I don’t know if he went by William, Will, or Bill for that matter.”
