Sanctuary Island

by Everett, Lily

  He tipped his head back and blew a sigh up at the ceiling. “It’s hard to explain in words.” Tilting his chin in her direction, he smiled. “But I could show you.”

  Ella narrowed her eyes. “I was kidding before, but maybe I was right—you are here to babysit me. Did my mother put you up to this?”

  She expected him to hedge, but instead he said, “I’ve ridden over every inch of this island, and I love it. So, yes, your mom asked me to play tour guide because she wants you to get to know Sanctuary. And she’s smart enough to accept that you’re not ready to see it with her.”

  Deep down, Ella wasn’t at all sure touring the island with Grady instead would pose less of a hazard to her heart, but she had made that promise to learn about her family’s legacy on the island.

  And unlike some people, Ella took her promises seriously. Plus, this would give her time to figure out what to do about the letter.

  Not that she owed Jo anything, but now that she’d spent time here, she found she hated the idea of the house leaving the family. After years of convincing herself she didn’t need anything from her absent mother, the magnetic pull she felt toward her family history surprised her. This house was a part of it, and so was Sanctuary.

  “Fine,” she decided. “Show me what’s so special about this island of yours.”

  Surprise and delight fired Grady’s gaze with a brilliant light, and as the smile stretched across his face and crinkled at the corners of his eyes, Ella couldn’t help thinking that no matter how picturesque Sanctuary might be, it would be hard to find a more appealing view than the one right here in her mother’s kitchen.

  CHAPTER 11

  Jo fiddled with the truck’s climate controls, trying to find the perfect temperature to stop Merry’s teeth from chattering.

  Early April mornings were still pretty nippy, but she’d made sure they were both bundled up before they drove away from the house in the gray predawn light.

  Forty-five minutes and one spectacularly pink and orange sunrise later, there was still enough of a chill on the air to have Jo and Merry shivering.

  “That was awesome.” Merry sighed. She didn’t seem to notice or mind the cold, in spite of the fact that her lips were tinged a worrying blue. “Do we have to go back to the house yet?”

  “We probably should. Don’t you need to eat?” Jo didn’t want to cut this outing short, but she wanted her baby girl warm and comfortable more than she wanted to drag out the sweetness of this moment.

  Besides, she told herself, I’ll have at least two more weeks of sweet moments with my Merry, and the hope of more with Ella, eventually.

  Be grateful for what you have, she reminded herself, even if it’s not everything you want, as fast as you want it. There was a time when you thought neither girl would ever let you back into her life, and now here they are.

  “I had three biscuits before we left,” Merry pointed out. “I mean, Baby and I will be hungry again before too much longer—I swear, it’s like I swallowed a tapeworm—but we’re good for now.”

  Jo wasn’t going to argue too hard. “Well, what were you hoping to do instead?”

  Merry’s shy smile cracked Jo’s heart in at least three places. “Last night at dinner, you said something about stables?”

  “You want to see my barn? That’s pretty convenient, since it’s just behind Aunt Dottie’s house.”

  Merry blinked. “Really? I didn’t realize it was so close.”

  “It’s screened pretty well by a stand of red cedar trees.”

  “I love how green it is here. The whole island feels so alive.”

  Jo shifted into drive, hiding a wince at the grinding of gears. “The old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be,” she said with a rueful smile.

  Merry shrugged. “Hey, at least you own your own car. And house. And business. I think that’s cool.” Her hand drifted up to rest against the roundness of her tummy. “I haven’t got much of anything except Baby, here.”

  Fighting the urge to ask about the baby’s father, Jo gripped the wheel until she lost circulation in her fingers. “When I first came to Sanctuary, I was like you—I had nothing. Not even my babies, because when your father left, I wasn’t fit to be near you, and I knew it. I gave up my rights … and then you were gone. And I was all alone, until your great-aunt Dottie took me in.”

  “You miss her a lot.” Merry’s voice was muffled and a little choked. Jo took a chance and reached out a tentative hand to her younger daughter, who grabbed it and held on with a strength that surprised Jo.

  “I do miss her. She was an incredible lady, although she hated that term.” Jo managed a damp laugh. “Aunt Dottie always referred to herself as ‘an old broad,’ and she was proud of it.”

  Merry’s dimples popped out. “She sounds like someone I would’ve liked.”

  “She was. Dottie would have loved you; I’ll always regret the fact that my mistakes deprived her, and you and Ella, of the chance to know each other.”

  “Mom,” Merry choked out, and Jo felt a sob rise up in her throat.

  “It’s been so many years since I heard that word from one of my girls.” The shock and joy of it stole her breath—but it wasn’t surprising that it had come from Merry.

  Almost too open and trusting—and oh, how Jo shuddered to imagine the target that innocence painted on Merry’s back. Jo felt Merry’s yearning for closeness as if it were the mirror of her own emotions.

  “Well, you are my mom,” Merry said, almost defiantly, as if she expected Jo to snatch back the right to that relationship.

  “Call me whatever you’re comfortable with,” Jo hurried to say. “Personally, I love ‘mom.’”

  Merry’s shy smile made Jo want to laugh and cry and jump up and down, but all she could do was lace her fingers tightly with her younger daughter’s, and hold on.

  “Tell me more about Aunt Dottie,” Merry said, tilting her head back against the passenger seat’s headrest.

  Jo cleared her aching throat. “There have been Hollister women on Sanctuary since the town was first built up, after the Great Depression. Dottie’s mother, Eleanor, is who Ella is named after.”

  “I always thought she was named after you! Jo Ellen.”

  Shaking her head, Jo smiled a little. “Nope, she’s named after your great-grandmother, Eleanor Hollister. Who was quite the broad, herself—she ran a boardinghouse in town, and she never married because, back then, marrying meant giving up her independence. Which is something a Hollister woman would never do.”

  Jo laughed, but Merry was noticeably quiet beside her.

  “I’m not very good at being independent,” Merry confessed. “Every time I try, I screw up my life in the worst possible way. Sometimes I feel like a lost cause.”

  “Sweetheart.” Jo’s heart burned against her ribs. “There’s no such thing as a lost cause. Sanctuary Island and your great-aunt taught me that. And believe me, if I could build a life to be proud of out of the wreckage of my weakness and fears and terrible mistakes, so can you.”

  Merry’s smile was hesitant, but it lit up her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Jo debated with herself for all of ten seconds before the offer came tumbling out. “You can stay here as long as you need to. I want you to know, you’re always welcome here. You and Ella both. This island has always been good to the Hollister women.”

  Merry ducked her head, a swath of wavy magenta hair swinging forward to hide her expression. “I … thanks. That means a lot to me.” Her voice grew fierce, and Jo caught a glimpse of the spunky girl who matched the rock-and-roll edge of the clothes she tended to wear. “But I want you to know, that’s not why I came here. I’m not looking for a handout.”

  “I never thought you were. But it would mean a lot to me to be able to help you, any way I can. I’ve got quite a few years to make up for. You don’t have to decide right this minute, but think about it.”

  “I will,” Merry promised, as the truck turned onto the back road that circled up
to the barn, and Jo caught sight of the cars parked out front.

  Uh-oh.

  One of the cars was a regular fixture out at Windy Corner Stables. The dented green covered-bed truck with the salt-corroded wheel wells and the shiny, brand-new trailer hitched to the back belonged to the island’s resident large-animal vet and farrier, Ben Fairfax. He came out about once a week to see who’d thrown a shoe, who needed shots, and so on.

  But the other car … that was a surprise, and Jo felt her heart kick at her ribs like a startled mule.

  She pulled up beside the white SUV and squinted at the dark, smoked windows. There was movement inside, and Jo closed her eyes, wondering if this was the moment when her worlds collided.

  Then, like an answer to a prayer, Ben stuck his dark, curly head out the barn’s double doors. Hopping down from the truck cab, she flagged him down with a perky wave.

  “Benji! How’s my favorite vet today?”

  His scowl made Jo grin. “Terrible. I’m taking White Lightning back with me. I need a closer look at that cut on her forelock, but stitches are going to be the only way to get it to close right. And don’t call me Benji.”

  Jo’s smile faded. Stitches. Damn it. That would mean antibiotic ointment, special leg wraps—more stuff she couldn’t really afford.

  None of which was Ben’s fault, so she rallied. “No worries. But before you go, let me introduce you to my daughter Merry.”

  Dr. Ben Fairfax had a reputation for being gruff and difficult with anyone who wasn’t one of the animals in his care, but he was still a good Southern boy. With those long, lanky legs of his, he easily beat Jo to the passenger side of the truck so he could open Merry’s door for her.

  Jo glanced over at Harrison’s SUV, trying to keep his doors locked and closed with the power of her brain.

  When she looked back, she had to blink twice to make sure the look on Ben’s face wasn’t an illusion.

  Terse, taciturn, perpetually cranky Ben Fairfax was staring at Merry as if he’d never seen anything so amazing in his life.

  Well, goodness. These girls of mine sure are heartbreakers.

  Ben’s gray eyes were wide and shocked as he held out a hand to help her down from the tall truck cab. “Here, let me just…”

  Merry took his hand as she levered herself out of the seat, but the moment she was on the ground, she jerked away as if she’d grabbed onto a live wire, her eyes wide and startled.

  Ben’s face closed down at once, resuming its normal stern lines. He stomped off without another word, heading back to the barn. Merry watched him go, and Jo noticed her baby girl’s cheeks were flushed a bright, pretty pink.

  Jo didn’t have time to do more than note this very interesting development before the sound of a car door opening had her moving to intercept Harrison before he could climb out of his SUV.

  “Ben, can I ask for a quick favor?” she called, moving swiftly to herd a visibly reluctant Merry in the direction of the barn’s entrance. “Merry’s interested in seeing the horses, could you give her the short version of the tour? I’ll be along in a second, honey, I just need to speak with this gentleman about some business matters—it won’t take but a minute.”

  Jo hoped.

  Ben threw her a glance that was part fury and part gratitude, and part something indecipherable. But all he said was, “You owe me. Big-time. Come on … Mary, was it? Let me guess, an angel came to you in a vision and nine months later…”

  “Not the saintly kind of Mary. Merry, as in short for Meredith.” Merry’s hands went protectively to her baby bump, but her voice was full of brittle humor. “And trust me, there’s nothing holy about my ex. Unless you count his godlike sense of self-importance. Which reminds me, hey, if you’re too busy to give me a tour, feel free to go about your business with the horses. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  Jo blinked. That was the most she’d ever heard Merry say about her baby’s father.

  “I guess it won’t be the worst chore in the world. You seem marginally less objectionable than most people.”

  “Wow. Put away the charm, Mr. Suave, I’m getting all faint and swoony.”

  “Hey, that was my highest compliment. People suck, which is why my patients are animals, and I’m amazing at treating them. Come to think of it, you should be swooning. Only don’t, because then I’d have to catch you and maybe mess up my hands—and these are the hands of a certified genius.”

  Merry narrowed her eyes. “How about your face. What happens if someone messes that up?”

  Ben’s jaw ticked once before he let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh. Merry had managed to surprise him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to White Lightning, so long as you promise to be sweet to her. She could use a little extra TLC today.”

  Even the knowledge that Harrison was getting out of his SUV behind her, his solid, looming presence like a second sun at her back, couldn’t get Jo to tear her eyes off the interaction in front of her.

  “I’ll be sweet to White Lightning,” Merry said, color high and eyes bright. “But I make no promises when it comes to arrogant, jerkface veterinarians.”

  She marched up the hill toward the barn, with her head up and her hair whipping in the breeze like a flag. Ben’s gaze followed her for a long moment before he turned to Jo and said, “Damn you to hell, Jo Ellen Hollister.”

  He looked as if someone had set him on fire, his face a mask of agonized disbelief. It was only in this moment of seeing him so alive and electrified that Jo realized she’d known this young man for years, and had never seen any emotion in his expression beyond sardonic humor, boredom, or disgust when talking to another person.

  When he talked to his furry, four-legged patients … well, that was something else entirely. The gentleness she knew Ben had buried deep inside was what made Jo say, “You’re welcome.”

  With an incoherent snarl, Ben stormed after Merry. Mind whirling, Jo felt an almost irresistible compulsion to follow them and watch them strike more sparks off each other. But Harrison cleared his throat meaningfully, and Jo turned to face him instead.

  Her heart sank. He didn’t have his casual-conversation face on. No, this one was more like the we-need-to-talk face.

  Harrison raised a brow. “That one of your girls?”

  A pang of guilt splintered through Jo’s rib cage. “Merry. My younger daughter.”

  There was a look in his eyes that Jo could barely stand to read, and not for the first time, she wished this man knew just a little bit less about the sins of her past and her hopes for the future.

  “Pretty girl,” he said, his gaze never leaving Jo’s. “When’s she due?”

  “About six weeks, she tells me.”

  “Think she’ll still be here then?”

  If Jo’s fervent prayers were answered, Merry and Ella would both still be on Sanctuary when Baby showed up. And since Jo believed wholeheartedly in the power of positive affirmations, she smiled and tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s not the plan, as of now, but plans change.”

  “They sure do,” he agreed, tone drier than the sawdust blanketing the barn floor, and Jo grimaced.

  She’d kind of stepped in that one.

  There was a moment of heavy silence before Harrison took pity on her. “I spoke with Dabney Leeds’s representative, a lawyer over in Winter Harbor.”

  Jo’s mouth went dry. “And?”

  The sympathy in Harrison’s deep-set eyes tipped her off before he spoke. “Given that you didn’t know about the debt until after Miz Dottie passed, I talked them into giving you a monthlong grace period. But if you can’t come up with the full amount to cover the debt within thirty days, the house will belong to Mr. Leeds.”

  The blow made Jo want to stagger, her knees weak with horror. “I can’t be the Hollister who loses Windy Corner. What about the stables?” She was grasping at straws and she knew it.

  “They haven’t turned a profit.”

  “Not yet, but by the end of the year�
�”

  “You don’t have until the end of the year.” Harrison crossed his arms over his chest, his brawny biceps straining at the material of his gray suit coat. He’d loosened the knot of his striped tie on the drive out from town, and Jo’s gaze caught on the triangle of sunbaked skin exposed by the open top button of his crisp white shirt. “But I may have a solution.”

  A ray of hope broke through the nausea and panic swirling through Jo’s brain. “What? I’ll do anything, whatever it takes to save Windy Corner.”

  The corner of his lip quirked up sardonically, as if he knew already that she was going to regret saying that.

  His steady gaze had Jo’s heart rate picking up. “Then marry me.”

  There went her knees again. “What?”

  He took a step forward, close enough to enfold one of her limp, bloodless hands in his big, warm clasp. “Be my wife, and all of this goes away. I’ll pay off the lien, we’ll save Windy Corner, and everything else will work itself out.”

  Jo’s mind went blank, as if every thought and emotion had been washed away by a torrential flood of disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. The answer to her money problems couldn’t be so simple … so impossible.

  She stared down at their joined hands, his long, deft, dear fingers as familiar to her as her own, and she knew exactly what she had to say.

  CHAPTER 12

  “I may not have the best sense of direction,” Ella said, curling nervous fingers around the roll bar stretched under the canvas roof of Grady’s green Jeep, “but I’m pretty sure the town of Sanctuary is back the other way.”

  “We’re not going into town.”

  The Jeep bounced and shuddered over the rough, backcountry road, but Grady made no concessions to the terrain. Pedal to the metal and barely slowing down for curves, the line of his body was entirely relaxed and confident. He could’ve been kicked back in his recliner in front of his flatscreen.

  Her gaze dropped to the loose grip of his gloved hand around the gearshift. She was supposed to be looking at the island, the beautiful scenery flashing past the car in a blur, but all she could see was Grady.