She came eagerly, settling against his chest, clutching his shirt in her fist. He palmed the back of her head, relishing the weight of her against him. The slight rise and fall of her shoulders. The sweet scent of her shampoo. He could hold her like this forever. Two hours ago he’d hoped to do just that. But everything had changed now.
Even so, he’d give anything if the impossible could be true. If his brother had somehow come back from the dead, he’d find it in his heart to let Maggie go once again.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” she said softly. “For not thinking I’m crazy.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Anytime, honey. It’ll be all right. I don’t have any answers for you, but there’s one person who does, and we’ll just have to find him.”
Chapter 4
Maggie’s sister-in-law, Erin Gibbs, lived in a modest ranch about a mile from the beach. There wasn’t much to recommend the house with its older white siding, outdated kitchen, and modest furnishings. But the backyard was a summer-lover’s dream.
A large deck hugged the back of the home, complete with a built-in grill and a two-sided fireplace. Beyond it, a large kidney-shaped in-ground pool dominated the yard. Around the periphery of the pool, Erin’s green thumb was on display. Palm trees, flowering bushes, and rubber tree plants burgeoned under her care.
Maggie reclined on a chaise lounge, eyes peeled for Zoey and her five-year-old cousin, Mia, who sat on the steps of the pool’s shallow end. Erin’s eleven-year-old son, Owen, was at a friend’s house, leaving the young cousins to themselves today.
In her teal two-piece, Erin joined Maggie by the pool and offered her a glass of iced tea. “Mine’s not as good as yours.”
“Well, I was just thinking how unfair it is that you can sprout the garden of Eden while I can’t grow a simple houseplant.”
“I guess we all have our gifts.” Erin sank onto the chair beside Maggie. Her chin-length flaxen hair glinted in the afternoon sun. “I could never teach English to a roomful of bored fifteen-year-olds. You deserve a medal.”
“They’re not all bored, thankfully. And I couldn’t advise them on the traumas some of them face.” Erin had a big heart, a wise spirit—and a doctorate in psychology.
“There’s some of that, unfortunately, but there’s plenty of plain ol’ high school drama in there too.”
“Always. All that and summers off too.” Maggie loved her students, but she was glad for the reprieve from lesson plans, grading, and school politics. She raised her glass. “To a well-deserved summer vacation.”
“Hear, hear.” Erin clinked her glass with Maggie’s.
Maggie stretched her lips into a smile she didn’t quite feel. She’d been all set to be brave this summer. To face the memories she and Ethan had made here, where they’d fallen in love. To let go of him and start moving forward in a meaningful way.
But last night had changed all that.
Now she battled the ridiculous hope that Ethan wasn’t dead at all and had to somehow hide it from Erin. How was she supposed to carry on as if her whole world hadn’t been turned upside down?
“You okay? You seem a little quiet today.”
Maggie slipped on her sunglasses. “Just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“It must be hard being back here, huh?”
“It is.” She’d been to Seabrook many times since Ethan had died. But only day trips, avoiding certain places, not wanting to dredge up memories. “But it was high time. It’ll be a great summer for Zoey. She’s been asking about her daddy more lately, and I can share my memories with her. We all can. Give her little pieces of him to carry with her.”
As her daughter made friends at church and preschool, becoming exposed to other families, she’d also begun asking if she couldget another daddy. But Maggie didn’t mention that. It was yet another sign that she needed to let go of the grief and focus on their future.
“Mommy, can I get in now?” Zoey called.
“Sure, honey.” At three feet, eight inches tall, her daughter could reach the shallow bottom now. She was tall for her age, as tall as Mia, which was no surprise given Ethan’s height and Maggie’s own five-foot-seven frame.
Zoey moved into the water with the confidence of a fish and began swimming freestyle across the width of the pool.
“Wow, look at her go.”
“We’ve been swimming at the Y. She loves the water.”
“She’s a natural—but I guess that’s no surprise since she has your genes. Are you still swimming?”
“At least once a week.” Maggie had swum competitively in high school and college. When she swam it was just her and the water. Sometimes it felt as if shewasthe water, when her body moved in harmony with the flow. Swimming was her escape, her refuge. She wasn’t sure she could’ve maintained her sanity all these years without it.
