Tyson rolled his eyes. A bit of an exaggeration. But yeah, the divorce had made him a little unstable. He could see that now. He’d been on a mission of some kind. But that was over now. He’d learned his lesson.
“Trinity Evans was eyeing you the other night at Chatties,” Luke said. “She broke up with her boyfriend a while back. You should ask her out.”
Trinity was the sweetest server at the seafood restaurant. “Why don’t you ask her out? Seems more your type.” Plus, he was pretty sure Luke had a good crush going.
“Beautiful and brunette?” A mottled flush—curse of the redheads, Luke called it—worked its way up from the collar of his tee.
“Sweet and smart. Bet she’d say yes.”
“Aw, she was looking at you, not me.”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, I’m officially on a dating moratorium, and I’m sure she’d warm up to you if you could squeeze two words past those lovelorn lips of yours.”
“Dating moratorium? Since when?”
“Since now.” Tyson had sought distraction after the divorce and he’d gotten one. Or twenty. Time to focus on other things. Like his work at The Sand and Saddle, his parents’ bed-and-breakfast. Now that summer was gearing up, the place was starting to fill up again.
More tourists on the island meant more calls. Scooter accidents,water rescues, runaway campfires. Then in late July, Pony Penning Days.
There’d be plenty to keep his mind off the divorce he’d never wanted.
For now he just had to get these ponies back to the refuge. Once they were settled with their band, he and Luke would repair the fence, then Ty would go check on Jenna. She’d surely arrived at her mom’s by now—and who knew how that would turn out?
Chapter 4
As Jenna crossed the causeway separating the mainland from Chincoteague Island, the familiar sight of sea and salt marshes spread out like a welcome mat. The last of the day’s sun sparkled on the sound.
Home.
Peace stirred inside and a warm healing response spread through her limbs, relaxing muscles that held three months of tension. It wasn’t easy being spurned by half of one’s city. She was relieved to escape Alexandria for the weekend.
She breathed in the present and exhaled the past. Sure, she still had her mom’s situation ahead of her. But she was home. This was a place where she was known and loved. A place where family and tradition flowed like lifeblood through the community. She’d come to help her mother, but Jenna needed this island. She hadn’t realized how much until now.
She’d left the island with big dreams. She wanted an education and a career. She wanted to experience new things—things that couldn’t be found on the small island where she’d grown up.
The scholarship to Georgetown had been her ticket to the future. Leaving the island—everything and everyone she knew—hadn’t been easy. It also felt as if she was leaving her dad behind. And thatmight’ve been the hardest thing of all. But she persevered with the knowledge that he would’ve been so proud of her for having the courage to step out on her own.
She eventually made it through four years of college. After that her goal was to build her résumé and eventually open her own business—once she discovered her passion.
She should’ve known after her internship that the medical world wasn’t her thing. But she’d lost the job suddenly and felt anxious about being without work. The job at Fleming had been kind of a rebound position.
But then she became involved with Jason, and she’d let the relationship distract her from her goals. Why else would she have stayed so long in a field that didn’t excite her?
Summer traffic had arrived early on the island, so she took a few shortcuts to reach her mom’s house. Everything along Ridge Road was the same as when she’d visited in January, except summer had driven away winter’s cold breath.
The sweetgum and sassafras trees were cheerful green, and beach roses and goldenrod brightened the landscape. The smell of freshly mown grass traveled through her air vents, reminding her of sweaty summers playing football and tag in Tyson’s spacious backyard.
She spotted the Mitchells’ seashell stand by the side of the road and the Davises’ split-rail fence that she and the Parker boys used to jump when they accessed the Wallaces’ swimming pool.
And there was her childhood home on the left, its short drive shaded by towering loblolly pines. The butter-yellow Cape Cod sported blue shutters, a welcoming porch, and a matching detached garage, which was too full of boxed-up memories to house an actual car.
Seashell bits popped under her tires as she pulled into the drive. Moments later she exited her Camry and drew in a deep breath of sea and salt before she opened the rear door to grab her bag.
The familiar slap of the screen door preceded her mother’s voice. “Jenna! What a nice surprise.”
Jenna hip-checked the car door and watched her petite fifty-three-year-old mom rush toward her. Her fresh Caribbean tan set off pale blue eyes, and her dishwater-blonde hair gleamed in the waning sunlight. Everyone said Mom was a dead ringer for Cameron Diaz, and they weren’t wrong.
Alas, Jenna, with her chestnut hair and brown eyes, had taken after her father in appearance. “Didn’t you get my message? I left a voicemail and texted you.” Jenna’s five-foot-seven-inch frame seemed to swallow her mom as they hugged.
