Sanctuary Island

by Everett, Lily

  If that wasn’t the understatement of the century, Jo didn’t know what was. Especially considering how up in the air everything with Harrison was at the moment.

  He asked me to marry him.

  She shook her head to clear it of the extremely distracting thought, along with the even more distracting fact that she’d turned him down. Again.

  Ella’s face was hard, but there was a soft blur of pain at the corners of her downturned mouth. “Spare me the incredibly vague nondetails. I’m not concerned about your relationship beyond the fact that having an in with the local bank manager will help me achieve my goal.”

  “What goal is that, exactly?” Jo zeroed in on the heart of this conversation. “I know you haven’t forgiven me—and that’s fine. That’s your choice, and I’m not going to say I deserve any better. But given that, I can’t see why you’re working so hard to help me.”

  Ella struggled visibly, her mouth working silently as she tried to decide how much to say.

  “Cards on the table,” Jo said. “If I promise to be honest from here on out, same goes for you.”

  Ella lifted her chin at the challenge. “I’m helping because you’re in trouble. And if you lose this house, Merry is going to want to come back here and be supportive. She’s got enough problems of her own, along with an overactive empathy gland; she doesn’t need to be saddled with any down-on-their-luck family members. She needs to focus on herself and her baby.”

  Understanding began to dawn, like a match flaring to light in the darkness of Jo’s mind. “And you think if I’m set for life, running your B and B, then Merry will never feel a need to come back here?”

  Ella shrugged, glanced away. “It’s a start.”

  “Oh, sweet girl.” That got her a sharp look, but Jo couldn’t help it. She ached for both her daughters—but at least Merry knew something about love. The ability to love, the desire for love, glowed all around her. But Ella … The young woman sitting in front of Jo was all folded in on herself like a locked puzzle box without any key, and the knowledge that Ella was paying for the sins of Jo’s past and the mistakes Jo made … it was enough to make her determined to call her sponsor later.

  “What?” Ella demanded.

  “I don’t know what you’ve convinced yourself of,” Jo said, picking her way softly. “But I’m not giving up on you or Merry. And I’m pretty sure your sister feels the same way.”

  “So?”

  “So even if things are going well with me here, even if you remove all the logical, rational reasons you can think of for Merry to want to come back and visit—there will still be the illogical, irrational ones. Nonsense concepts like love and family and wanting to be a part of something bigger.”

  Guilt squeezed a tight knot into Jo’s throat at the spasm of fear that flashed across her daughter’s face.

  Faster than thought, Jo reached out to Ella, the impulse to comfort and care for her overriding everything else. But it was the wrong move, as Ella proved by jerking away.

  The fear in her eyes shifted, darkened to anger. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking to me about family, when you’re the reason our whole family fell apart. And if I have anything to say about it, Merry’s going to realize she’s only setting herself up to get hurt.”

  It would be easy, so easy, to give in to the defeat of knowing that Ella was right. But Jo refused to surrender—there was more at stake here than indulging her own guilt.

  Gaze steady on Ella’s flushed cheeks, her glittering eyes, Jo said, “But you don’t have anything to say about it. Merry is an adult, Ella. She can make her own decisions about what’s right for her. That’s not your job.”

  Ella stood up from the table so quickly, she knocked over her chair. It fell to the hardwood floor with a clatter, but she didn’t even spare it a glance. All her attention was on Jo. “Yes, it damn well is my job to look out for Merry. It always has been, since the day she was born. Who else was going to take care of her? You? Please. You weren’t fit to be her mother then, and you’re not fit to be around her now. She deserves more.”

  Jo couldn’t suppress her flinch, but before she could say anything else, a quiet voice from the doorway froze both Jo and Ella in their places, like wax figures in an ugly tableau.

  “Stop it. Both of you, just stop.”

  Jo caught the minute flicker of that same, sick fear in Ella’s gaze before they both turned to face Merry.

  Fists clenched, Merry hunched over her big belly, lines of tension and strain bracketing her mouth.

  “Merry! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she grated out, panting a little. “I want to know what the hell is going on in here.”

  Still looking worried, Ella said, “We were talking about my proposal.”

  “We had a deal, Ella.” There was steel in Merry’s voice, a strength Jo hadn’t been sure her younger daughter possessed. In spite of the awfulness of this moment, Jo couldn’t help but be a little bit glad to see it.

  “What deal?” Jo asked, glancing between her girls.

  Ella straightened her spine defiantly, her gaze touching on the papers scattered across the table. “A proposal that will get you a bank loan in return for Merry doing the smart thing and coming back to D.C. with me.”

  A frisson of awareness shivered up Jo’s spine. So there had been the possibility of Merry staying longer, then. Even if it didn’t happen, it meant something to her that Merry had wanted to. It meant a lot.

  “But there was a condition,” Merry reminded her sister coolly, straightening her back with a grimace. “No interference from you in my relationship with Mom. And I think getting into a screaming fight about how she’s not fit to be around me counts as interference.”

  Jo couldn’t take any of this in. “Wait, girls. I don’t completely understand what’s going on here, but please don’t fight because of me. The last thing I’d ever want to do is come between you.”

  “Too late,” Ella choked out, her eyes shining brilliant blue with unshed tears as she stared at her sister’s stubborn expression. “This is a mistake, Merry. The worst you’ve ever made, and that’s saying something.”

  Merry shrugged. “Maybe. But at least it’ll be my mistake.” The mask of her face crumpled a little, then, and Jo’s breath caught at the soft, bruised look of hurt in the depths of her eyes. “If that makes you feel bad, I’m sorry.”

  “All I feel is tired. This is going to blow up in your face,” Ella warned, gathering up her sheaf of papers, the proposal she’d worked so hard on, with shaking hands. “And when it does, I’ll be the one cleaning up the mess, as usual.”

  “Not this time.” Merry squared her shoulders. “Whatever happens, you’re absolved of the responsibility of rescuing me. I won’t call you in tears, you won’t have to come back out here, since you hate it so much.”

  Ella blinked, a horrible blankness covering her face like a white sheet. “Fine,” she said, her voice sounding odd and distant. “I hope you’re happy. I really do.”

  Before Jo could gather herself to protest, to demand an explanation for what the hell was happening, Ella had dropped the proposal on the floor and walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

  The moment she was gone, Merry’s face crinkled up like tissue paper. She brought up a hand to hide her tears, but the shaking of her shoulders gave her away. Faster than thought, Jo was on her feet with her arms around her daughter.

  “So. Maybe I should have asked this before. But can I stay?”

  The words were muffled against Jo’s shoulder, where a patch of her cotton sweater was getting damp with Merry’s tears. The rush of love and protectiveness was so sudden and overwhelming, it stole Jo’s voice.

  Misinterpreting the pause, Merry pulled back to swipe at her cheeks. She gave a tremulous smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. But I’ve been living in Ella’s apartment for the last few months, and now I’m pretty sure I’ve burned that bridge. I don’t really have anywhere else to g
o.”

  Clearing her throat, Jo tugged her daughter back into a hug. Closing her eyes at the perfection of feeling Merry relax against her, Jo said, “Of course you can stay. As long as you want—you’re always welcome, I told you that. But you haven’t burned any bridges with Ella. I don’t know either of you as well as I hope to, but I’m sure about this. Ella loves you. You’ll always have a place with her.”

  Merry shuddered out another sob and clenched her fists in Jo’s sweater. Jo shushed her and petted her dark magenta-streaked curls, cherishing every heartbeat of this moment.

  But even in the midst of the heady rush of comforting her baby girl, Jo couldn’t stop worrying about her older daughter.

  Ella’s the one who has nowhere to go, she thought with a pang. Jo had to fix this. But how?

  Whatever she came up with, it wouldn’t happen tonight. Merry sagged against her chest, unsteady with exhaustion. She needed a glass of water, then sleep.

  Before she got them both moving in the direction of bed, though, Jo took one last moment to cuddle her near. And, closing her eyes, Jo sent up a silent prayer that the magic of Sanctuary would guide Ella’s footsteps and keep her safe until morning.

  CHAPTER 21

  Grady parked his truck next to the little beige rental car and let himself smile in the darkness.

  In the week since Ella had first pushed her way into his house and deeper into his life, he’d seen her car in his driveway many times. But the sight never failed to send a thrill through his chest.

  And usually it was a little earlier in the day than this, Ella showing up with two cups of coffee and some rolls from Mitchell’s gas station—or a grease-stained paper bag full of their truly awesome fried chicken, if it was close to lunchtime—all ready to get her jeans dirty on a trek around the island or to check on the foal they’d nicknamed Tough Guy.

  There hadn’t been any more kissing since that searing liplock in the water below Wanderer’s Point, but Grady hadn’t given up hope.

  In fact, as he wondered what Ella was doing here so late, his pulse sped up and he felt anticipation pool hotly in his belly. Grady stepped down from the truck cab and peered into the rental car.

  “Finished with your nightly rounds?”

  Her voice came from behind him, and Grady twisted to find her sitting on his front steps, arms wrapped around her knees and a tight, tremulous expression pulling at her face.

  Grady nodded, studying her in the golden glow of his porch light. “You’re up late.”

  She pressed her nose to her raised knees for a second, then lifted her head with a determined smile. “How’s our boy doing?”

  Warmth washed through him. “Tough Guy’s doing great.”

  Grady had spent a good portion of his nightly rounds watching the new colt frolicking around the older members of his family band, all knobbly knees and exuberance.

  “Looking at him,” he said, walking over to fold himself down on the steps beside Ella, “you could never tell that he had such a dangerous, difficult start in life. And you wouldn’t be able to predict all the crap he’ll be facing when he’s grown, either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The worry creasing Ella’s brow made Grady wish he could call the words back. “Oh, you know. Life is uncertain out there in the wild. A summer drought, a bad ice next winter … hell, sometimes we even catch the edges of hurricanes and tropical storms.”

  She cocked her head, gaze intent on his face. “Yeah, but you meant something else. Didn’t you?”

  Grady sighed. Not for the first time, he wished Ella were a little less perceptive. “Well, you’ve seen the horse bands. One stallion plus a bunch of mares—that’s pretty much how it goes, and they generally stick close together like a family. But if you see a lone wild horse, that’s a male yearling who got kicked out of his band by a more dominant stallion.”

  “That’s sad.” Ella propped her chin on her crossed arms. “But if his family ditches him, can’t he just start his own band?”

  “Sure, if he can steal a mare. And sometimes a few stallions will join together and form a bachelor band.”

  Silence spread between them, punctuated by the hoot of an owl in the pine trees overhead. When she spoke, her voice was soft and muffled.

  “What if he can’t? He’d be fine on his own, right? I mean, being alone isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

  Grady chose his words carefully, aware that there were undercurrents to this conversation that he didn’t fully understand.

  “Horses are pack animals. They don’t deal well with loneliness. If that lone stallion doesn’t find or make a new family, he’ll … well, if we don’t get to him in time and bring him into the barn, try to tame him—he’ll go down to the cove where Tough Guy was born, he’ll lie down, and wait to die. That’s why they call it Heartbreak Cove.”

  *

  Ella breathed through the bolt of electricity stiffening her every limb. Everything was all tangled up in her head—her confused feelings for Grady, the fight with Jo, and oh God, Merry … and now this.

  The possible fate of the foal she’d helped bring into the world was like the final tap of the hammer to the crack in her heart, the last blow needed to break her in two.

  “Hey, don’t look like that.” Grady sounded alarmed enough to make Ella wonder just how pale she’d gotten. “I’m not pronouncing a death sentence on our little man, here. Who knows, maybe he’ll grow up and fight the dominant male, take over the band, and become the leader of his own family. Or maybe he’ll get kicked out and take up with a buddy, and be fine, just the two of them. There’s a lone stallion out there whose best friend is a feral kitten from one of Jo’s barn cats’ litters. You never see one without the other.”

  “Great.” Ella laughed, but it sounded damp and wobbly, even to her. “So what you’re saying is, I’m destined to become a crazy cat lady?”

  Confusion drew Grady’s dark gold brows down into a line. “I don’t know what—”

  “Nothing, ignore me,” Ella said, waving it away. She felt incredibly tired, all of a sudden. “Thanks for trying to put a good spin on it. I hate the idea of leaving Sanctuary and then hearing about Tough Guy wandering the marshes all alone, dying of loneliness.”

  Grady got that look on his face, the closed-off look he got lately whenever she mentioned her impending departure, but when he spoke, his voice was threaded through with firm promise. “I won’t let that happen. If his band kicks him out, I’ll bring him into the barn myself, and I’ll work with him until he’s happy in the paddock. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  Ella bit back a sigh. It was too late for that. It had been too late before she’d heard anything specific about the dangers that could befall the foal. But she appreciated Grady’s solemn vow more than she could express. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  He studied her. “Did something happen tonight? You seem upset.”

  “Nothing much. Except my sister is making the biggest mistake of her life.”

  Grady’s brows climbed toward his hairline. “What now?”

  “When I leave in a few days, I’ll be the only one on the ferry back to the mainland.” It hurt to even form the words in her brain, but Ella forced them out. “Merry’s staying here. She’s quitting her job and moving to Sanctuary Island.”

  “Is she?” Grady’s gaze was wary, watchful. “Jo must be happy.”

  “Well, as long as Jo’s happy.” Anger coated the back of Ella’s tongue with bitterness.

  He shook his head. “I can’t say I’m sorry—not when I wish you’d stay longer, too.”

  Ella fisted her hands against the slap of truth. “I wish we’d never come to this stupid island,” she whispered.

  The solid heat of his body along her side went statue still, coiled tension and power tightening his jean-clad thighs as Grady moved to stand.

  Ella grabbed for his hand just as he pushed off the steps, her heart in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she cried, feeling
wretched as he stared down at her, eyes burning like molten jade on his frozen face. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Sure you did.” His jaw ticked once. “You’ve been up front about it from the beginning. Don’t start lying to spare my feelings now.”

  “I’m not!”

  He tugged away from her. Ella launched herself off the steps to follow him as he paced down the driveway before turning on her.

  “Grady, please.” Ella kept her voice as steady as she could when it felt like everything inside her was twisted into knots.

  He looked away from her, his jaw like granite. “Why did you come here tonight?”

  The straightforward, uncompromising question rocked Ella back onto her heels. “I guess … because I couldn’t stay in that house. I needed to get out before I broke down and said something Merry and I can’t come back from.”

  That brought his stare back to her, and the banked fires in his gaze set Ella’s blood ablaze. “No. That’s not why. And you’re not upset about Merry making a mistake, either.”

  Ella blinked. “What?”

  “You…” He struggled for a moment, his throat working as he swallowed around the words that tried to escape. “Merry is your family. You’re mad at Jo for stealing Merry away, but she didn’t. They’re both still there. They’re still your family.”

  It hit her like a dash of cold water in the face. She shook her head to clear it, but Grady wasn’t done.

  “You’re not afraid she’s making a mistake—you’re afraid of being alone. You think if you’re alone, you’ll wither away and die.”

  The truth rang like a bell inside her. He was right.

  All the breath left her body. He was so fierce and gorgeous in his righteous anger. She blinked, dazzled and dazed. It felt as if she were waking up from a deep sleep.

  “Take a look around.” Grady spread his arms out at his sides. “You’re not alone.”

  “I know,” Ella whispered. She must have swallowed some kind of truth serum. “I think I always knew—that’s why I came here tonight. Not to get away from Merry and Jo, but because I needed you. Needed to see you.”