Chapter 1
“Iknow you don’t want me to go,” her brother said as Annie pulled up to the curb in the departure queue at Logan Airport. “But thanks for staying out of it.”
She touched his arm, wishing she could stop him, knowing she could not. “Have a good time,” she replied with a forced smile.
He gave her a small wink, grabbed his suitcase and backpack, and got out of the Jeep. Then he disappeared into the terminal as her heart crumbled a little.
Kevin, of course, was right: she’d wanted to convince him to stay on Martha’s Vineyard where he now belonged. But Taylor Winsted—the auburn-haired woman who had turned his head a year ago—now lived in Hawaii, having fled her unfortunate past. Annie never dreamed that he would join Taylor; she’d thought that the couple had uncoupled before the woman left. “She needs me,” he’d said when he announced that she’d enlisted his help with renovations to her house on Maui. Annie had been stunned. She’d been happy when Taylor had packed her bags and gone. Relieved, in fact, as Annie had never quite warmed up to her.
That’ll teach you, Murphy said from her place up in the clouds. Murphy was Annie’s old college pal who had died but remained with Annie in spirit. On occasion, she still offered sage advice. And mischievous quips.
Annie didn’t respond, but fixed her eyes on the road.
The trip from Boston back to the ferry at Woods Hole took forever, every mile of highway thick with traffic, every vehicle intent on getting in her way. To top it off, it was August-hot. And humid.
Or maybe Annie was merely stressed about Kevin having left.
By the time she reached the boat, she was grateful it was loading. Once on board, she parked where she was directed, then climbed two flights of iron stairs to the upper passenger deck. Squeezing between a texting teen and a large, sun-hatted man, Annie stood at the railing, closed her eyes, and let the sun warm her face and soothe her soul. After all, she was going home. And Kevin would be back—he would, he would, he would. If she turned that into a mantra, maybe it would come true.
A few minutes later, the engines rumbled to life, and theIsland Homepulled away from the pier, out to the harbor, into Vineyard Sound. As they glided past the emerald Elizabeth Islands, Annie’s gaze drifted from the clear blue sky to the sparkling summer sea; the soft motion enveloped her, rocking away the heat and the onslaught of noise that had besieged her in the city. Since she’d moved to the Vineyard two years earlier, the sight of the Boston skyline alone gave her agita.
She could hardly wait to be back on the island where life was magical and beautiful and blanketed with peace, and where she could think straight again.
You can be such a drama queen,Murphy whispered.
Which, of course, made Annie laugh. Out loud. Then she glanced around, grateful that no one seemed to have witnessed her outburst. She mused at how, no matter how badly the city could assault her senses, she was never bothered by the cacophony of too many people or too much traffic on the island, not even during the upcoming jam-packed week of Illumination Night, the fireworks, and the grand finale of summer, the Ag Fair. She had, however, been annoyed that Kevin had chosen a “rental turnover” day—a Saturday, of all days—to take off.
Kevin. Him again.
Murphy made no further comment, though it was a good bet she would have told Annie to get over herself.
Then a small hand tugged Annie’s wrist. She turned and looked down at the upturned face of a young girl. Judging by the empty space where her two front teeth belonged, she might have been six or seven.
“You going to visit someone?” the girl asked, her voice whistling the “s” in “someone.”
“No,” Annie replied. “I live on the Vineyard,”
“All the time?” Her freckled nose wrinkled.
“Yes.” Annie didn’t add,Thank God. “Today I brought my brother to the airport in Boston.”
“Was he visiting?”
“No. He lives on the island, too. He’s going to Hawaii now. To see a friend. A lady.”
The child scowled. “His girlfriend?”
Annie laughed. “Good question.”
“How long will he be gone?”
“A week or two.” Or three or four, Annie supposed. Or more—he hadn’t said. “Are you coming over to visit someone?”
“No. I live here, too. But Daddy says without tourists to support us, we’d have to move somewhere else. Like Cleveland. So I was hoping you were a tourist.”
A man walked up behind the girl and put his hands on the crown of her head. He gave Annie a crooked smile that made him look like an apologetic emoji. “Sorry,” he said. “My daughter is taking an unofficial passenger survey.”
Annie smiled in return. “If this boat is any indication,” she said to the child, “I think there will be plenty of tourists this week.” As the man steered his daughter away, Annie noticed that a thirtyish woman—a petite brunette with a flawless bronze complexion—was standing at the bow of the boat, slightly turned, watching her.
