She loved how the space between them was clear now, an open road to whatever came next. “I’ve had two experiences with serious relationships. Both of them were awful.”
“Don’t look to me for advice. My last two didn’t end up all that well. My former partner, the guy I considered my lifelong friend, maneuvered behind my back and stole my company. The other relationship ended in divorce.”
She had to smile. “Third time lucky?”
“Let’s hope so.” His own smile was canted, the gaze somewhat fractured. But real just the same. “For both our sakes.”
They walked on in silence. Then, “Jenna, you need to understand what I’m facing here. If you decide to change your mind, I totally understand.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ve run my base calculations by Wallace, our boat guy. He agrees with my preliminary estimates. Even if we go for less than top-quality replacements, we’re looking at an outlay of another three quarters of a million dollars. That’s on top of everything I’ve already spent.”
“I have money. Not that much. But some.”
But Noah persisted. “We don’t even know if this boat will float in the end.”
“It will. It has to.”
Noah sighed. Started to speak. Closed his mouth. Sighed again.
It was the simplest thing in the world to tell this man, this almost stranger, about Millie. The half sister Jenna knew for only a few months. A time so precious she was willing to accept Millie’s unfulfilled dreams as her own. Take up a new profession, accept this as her calling. Alter her life’s course in the process. Willingly. And feel richer as a result. All so she could be here. Walking down a dusty farm track, heading toward a fire-blackened ridge, sharing her life’s secrets with a man she scarcely knew.
When she finished, Noah walked on for what seemed like forever. And finally responded with the single soft word, “Wow.”
Jenna nodded. Wow certainly worked for her. “Maybe we should start back.”
* * *
Jenna enjoyed the work more than she thought possible.
The heat was fierce. Noah insisted they stop around eleven each morning, take a long pause, rest well, eat well, drink constantly. The afternoon winds were like standing inside a giant blow-dryer. Jenna loved it just the same. She often took her breaks standing beneath the barn’s shadows, watching the cottonwood leaves spin and twirl. Their silver-green dance and the meadow’s dry, whispering chorus, it spoke to her. Moments like these, Jenna often thought she could sense Millie standing there, enjoying this glimpse at their shared dream.
Nine days later, Sol arrived with the papers assigning her a forty-nine percent interest in the yacht.
Jenna had already transferred most of her savings to what was now their joint boat account. Seated there at the trestle table in the waning light of another sweltering day, she felt weightless. Slightly detached from the yard and the papers awaiting her signature. She tucked her legs under the bench, gripping the wood with her calves. As if this hold was all that kept her from floating away.
Sol sat across from her, trying to remain utterly still. His eyes shifted back and forth, from Jenna to where Liam knelt farther along her bench, sketching the attorney in profile. “How long do I have to sit like this?”
“Not long. Liam is a quick draw.”
“Half of my face is going to be burned.”
“He likes to draw people in profile. He says the shadows talk to him.”
Sol’s gaze drifted back to the massive shape mostly sheltered beneath the barn’s shade. “I never did understand the fascination with boats.”
Jenna liked being able to study him like this. As if she observed with piercing clarity, sharing Liam’s intense concentration. “Are you married?”
“Thirty-seven years next month.”
“Kids?”
“Three. My baby girl graduates from USC law school next spring. I’m hoping she’ll join us. But she feels the big-city lure. Four grandkids. A joy.”
“I’m happy for you, Sol. If anyone deserves joy, it’s you.”
“What a kind thing to say, Jenna.” A pause, then, “I thought we were discussing the boat.”
