Sanctuary Island

by Everett, Lily

  It took sheer determination to keep her voice light as she said, “I really shouldn’t pass up this opportunity, since I’m leaving in three days. Who knows when I’ll be around horses again.”

  Grady’s long-handled spoon paused for a moment before he resumed stirring. “You never know. Maybe you’ll fall in love with it and never want to leave.”

  Ella shivered. Were they still talking about horseback riding? She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of a sensible reply. Of course she was leaving in three days. She had a job, a life, back in D.C. There was no way she could even consider staying.

  But as Grady pulled two rough, hand-thrown earthenware bowls from his cupboard and started dishing up oatmeal, Ella couldn’t stop thinking that for two people who hated change so much, she and Grady were building something between them that could change everything.

  *

  Three days. He had three days to convince her to uproot her entire life and move to Sanctuary Island.

  For the first time in years, he wondered if he’d ever be able to bring himself to leave the island. It was completely unfair to ask Ella to be the one making all the sacrifices here—but when he even considered the trip across the bay to Winter Harbor, a cold sweat broke out along his hairline and the tips of his fingers went numb.

  He could lose her, he realized, despair like bile in his throat. And all because he was too much of a coward to take a damn ferry ride.

  It was an impossible situation, but a voice in Grady’s head kept repeating that he had to “stay positive, man.” The voice sounded a lot like Tom, his ex-partner back on the task force.

  Grady wasn’t sure what it meant that after five years of not thinking or talking about his time on the team, he was suddenly hearing Tom’s relentlessly cheery, upbeat nagging in his head.

  He suspected it had something to do with the woman in the passenger seat of his Jeep.

  Stealing a glance at Ella, who had her arm propped on the open window so she could ride the air currents with one hand while they drove deeper inland toward Windy Corner, Grady felt his body stir and heat with the memories of the night before.

  He had to admit, if only to himself, that he’d been more than halfway certain he’d convinced Ella to stay. Which was stupid, of course. So she went to bed with him—that didn’t mean she was in love with him. God knew, he hadn’t been in love with every single woman he’d ever slept with.

  Still, he hadn’t been able to suppress a sharp pang of disappointment when she made it clear that her plans hadn’t altered.

  Because nearly everything was different for him since he met her.

  Grady downshifted as the paved road turned to gravel, the Jeep grinding across the ruts from last week’s storm.

  “Gosh,” Ella said, pitching her voice to be heard over the engine. “If only Jo Ellen had a handyman to help her smooth this driveway out.”

  Her teasing grin was infectious. Grady found himself smiling back. “Once we officially hit summer, closer to the end of June. But we’re likely to get a few more serious rainshowers and windstorms between now and then. It’s not worth it yet.”

  “I was kidding.” Her eyes were round and surprised. “But you really do everything around here, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever I can do to help Jo, I’ll do it.”

  Ella looked away for a moment, wind blowing her hair into her face. “How did she earn so much loyalty?”

  “I told you before—she saved my life when I came home to Sanctuary.”

  “But how?” Ella made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

  “It’s hard to explain.” Grady pulled the Jeep around the final bend. The barn rose up in front of them, sturdy and solid with its clean, fresh coat of dark green paint and its white doors thrown wide open.

  He parked the truck on the grass next to Jo’s pickup and lifted Ella’s fist from her lap, kissed her curled fingers until they relaxed. She met his eyes, and Grady smiled. Time to play his last, best card.

  “Let me show you.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Jo stood in the cool, dusty darkness just inside the barn and watched the Jeep take the gravel drive that led to Windy Corner Stables.

  Grady’s call had come through just as Jo and Merry finished up the morning feeding. He hadn’t been specific about what they were hoping to do, what Ella wanted, and Jo had been too thrown and thrilled by the idea that Ella might want anything from her to quiz him.

  After last night, she’d been doing her best to prepare for the possibility that Ella might cut her visit short and leave the island today.

  As she watched her older daughter hop down from the high seat of Grady’s Jeep, Jo sent up a prayer of thanks for the magic of Sanctuary. She had another shot at Ella, a chance to stitch up the rift she’d inadvertently caused between her daughters, and she couldn’t screw it up.

  Putting on a determined smile, she propped her elbow on the handle of the pitchfork she’d been using to muck out the stalls. “Welcome to Windy Corner Stables.”

  Grady slammed his door and came around to stand beside Ella, who was shading her eyes and scanning the spread with clear surprise.

  “Wow,” she said, blinking. “I wasn’t expecting this much gorgeousness.”

  Jo’s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline when Grady poked her daughter in the ribs, getting a tiny, sheepish grin out of Ella.

  Very interesting. She’d never seen Grady voluntarily touch anyone other than one of the few people he considered family. And even then, it was usually more of a quick slap on the back or an awkward one-armed hug—not such a casually intimate touch.

  Looked like she owed her thanks for Ella’s turnaround to something more specific than the magic of Sanctuary.

  Jo gave Grady a short, grateful nod to thank him for bringing Ella out here. “Do you want the full tour? Merry’s around somewhere—at this point, she probably knows more about this place than I do. I swear she’s had her nose in every corner of this barn in the last week and a half.”

  She was watching for it, so she saw the way Ella stiffened a bit at the mention of her sister’s name before walking over to get a better look at the big outdoor paddock to the left of the barn. Two geldings, Jeb and Buckwheat, made their curious way over to the fence to check her out.

  “No, thanks,” Ella said. “I’m not here to … I mean, there’s no need to bother Merry.”

  Jo’s fingers tightened around the shovel handle. She hated being the cause of her girls’ unhappiness—she’d already made so many mistakes, hurt them so badly …

  Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

  The familiar prayer calmed her fretting, as it almost always did, and Jo tugged off her filthy, battered work gloves. “I don’t think showing you the horses would be a bother to Merry.”

  Ella turned away from her contemplation of Buckwheat’s shameless begging for a handful of the juicy green clover beyond the fence line. She smiled slightly, her eyes shadowed. “She never did grow out of her horsey phase.”

  That wasn’t really what Jo had been getting at, but she allowed Ella to shift the subject a bit. “Neither did I, I guess. Does that mean you went through a horsey phase at some point?”

  Ella shrugged. “Oh, sure. When I was about fifteen, I had toy horses and watched National Velvet about a zillion times. I could probably still quote you whole passages from Black Beauty. But that was as far as it went.”

  Jo wondered why. Maybe because Neil and the girls had lived in D.C.? Riding lessons would’ve been expensive and inconvenient.

  Jo tried to imagine Ella pleading with Neil for riding lessons, asking Santa for a pony, and couldn’t quite picture it. Remembering the tiny, quiet, serious-faced little girl she’d been, Jo realized with a pang that it was possible her elder daughter had never in her life asked or hoped for something unrealistic. Something unattainable and crazy and out of r
each.

  A smart way to live, probably. But even in the worst throes of her struggle with addiction, Jo had never been able to cure herself of the urge to dream big. And now, fourteen years sober, she was glad.

  Looking back, she didn’t think there was any way she’d have made it through if she hadn’t been a bit of a dreamer.

  Dream big, Jo reminded herself, and the thought made it easier to smile. “Merry’s in the tack room, cleaning the bridles. Come on, I’ll show you where…”

  “Actually,” said Ella, reaching out with loosely curled fingers to let Buckwheat snuffle at her fist. “I’m here for a ride. Grady says you’ve got a sweet, gentle old mare who’s exactly my speed.”

  Delighted, Jo leaned the shovel against the barn door and dusted off her hands. “That would be Peony. Hold on just a quick sec, I’ll get her saddled up. Grady, I assume you want Voyager?”

  He sauntered into the barn with a tip of his chin. “If you get Miss P going, I’ll do Voyager.”

  That was when Jo noticed he wasn’t wearing his gloves.

  She was so shocked by that, blinking away dust motes to make sure her eyes were working right, that it barely startled her when Ella’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

  “Can I have a quick word?” Ella’s gaze flickered after Grady before settling on her mother.

  Jo fought down the impulse to tell Ella she could have anything it was in Jo’s power to give. “Of course.”

  Ella dropped her hand to smooth the wrinkles from the hem of her trim black button-down shirt. Quite a few wrinkles, Jo couldn’t help noticing, especially considering how put together and perfect Ella usually looked.

  “I guess you probably figured out I went to Grady’s house last night. We … talked, and he made some good points. There’s more going on here than my leftover childhood issues, and if I ever want to be happy, I know I’ve got to start coming up with ways to get over them. Which is what this trip should have been all about, really. Merry knew that.” She blew out a breath that fluttered the wispy dark hairs on her forehead. “Whatever she likes to tell people, she’s always been the smart one. I forget that sometimes.”

  Ella looked like she needed a hug, and Jo ached to give it to her. But, wary of pushing, she simply said, “You’re both smart, but about different things.”

  An arrested look came into Ella’s eyes. “I like that. I’m going to think about it more, and I’ll be thinking about what Grady said, too—but in the meantime, I have a favor to ask you.”

  “Name it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking about the preliminary proposal I put to you last night.” She lowered her voice even further until it was almost a whisper. “The bed-and-breakfast idea.”

  It was a good idea, Jo knew that much from studying the pages she’d picked up from the kitchen floor after Ella ran out. In fact, it could be enough to save Aunt Dottie’s house—but she wasn’t completely sold on it yet. “I don’t know, Ella. The thought of renovating the old place for guests, putting in en suite bathrooms, and opening the house up to strangers … something about it doesn’t set right.”

  “Okay.” Ella nodded firmly, not the least bit discouraged. “I get that. But it’s a start. Let me keep working on the proposal, and I’ll give you a revised plan to take to the bank before I leave.”

  Jo bit down on her lower lip. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort you’re putting into this thing, but you know Merry’s got her mind made up. Even if the plan works and the bank gives me a loan and we pay off our debt, I think Merry’s got it in her head to stay on Sanctuary. At least for a while.”

  The joy brimming in Jo’s chest was tempered by the flash of pain in Ella’s eyes, but her older daughter merely nodded again. “I know. This time it’s not for Merry. It’s for me. I need to let go of some of this bitterness and anger.” She glanced over Jo’s shoulder into the interior of the barn, where Jo could hear the low, rough sound of Grady’s laugh as he wrestled with Voyager’s cinch strap. “If I can do something to help keep Windy Corner in the family, I want to do it.”

  Jo’s throat closed up, so hard she had to swallow twice to be able to speak. “Well, I thank you. And if your great-aunt Dottie were still here, she’d be thanking you, too.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Ella warned. “I haven’t gotten to the part where I’m asking for a favor.”

  This time, Jo didn’t hesitate. She’d already gotten more from Ella this morning than she’d dared to hope for—whatever Ella wanted, Jo would give it to her. “Anything.”

  From deep inside the barn came the soothing rumble of Grady’s voice, and Ella smiled faintly. There was a shadow over her pretty face, a sadness Jo read all too clearly.

  “Don’t say anything to Grady about the proposal,” Ella said. “Let me do it.”

  Oh, sweet girl. Jo pressed the fingers of one hand to her mouth, thinking about the way Grady was likely to react to the idea of establishing a B and B specifically intended to draw tourists to his beloved private sanctuary.

  “Are you sure?” The urge to spare Ella pain was huge and undeniable. “I could wait until after you head back to D.C. to tell him.”

  But Ella was already shaking her head. “No. I want to tell—I mean, I don’t want to. He’s going to hate it. Hate me. But I have to be the one to tell him.”

  It was one of the hardest promises Jo had ever made, but in the end, all she could say was, “I understand. And it’s your call.”

  So many secrets. Jo pressed her mouth into a tight line and held herself as straight as she could. Grady didn’t know about the B and B, Merry and Ella didn’t know about Harrison’s proposal, Harrison and Taylor didn’t know how much Jo had wanted to say yes.

  She sighed and pointed Ella around the barn to the paddock before heading down the dim hallway to the tack room to grab Peony’s gear. Secrets made her head hurt.

  The tack room was small and windowless, lit only by a dusty table lamp with a green shade. Merry was sacked out on the sagging love seat that crouched opposite the rows of saddles hanging from one wall.

  Jo stopped in the doorway, wincing at the loud echo of her boot heels on the concrete floor, but it was too late. Shifting her bulk with a slight wince and a hand against the side of her belly, Merry sat up and yawned.

  “Sorry, I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Guess I didn’t sleep all that well last night.”

  Because of the fight with Ella, Jo thought, but all she said was, “No problem. Go back to sleep—you can nap as much as you like. How are you feeling?”

  She watched sharply to see if Merry winced again. The girl had been doing that all morning, pressing a hand to her abdomen as if easing a cramp.

  “Fine. And no more napping for me, I’m up.” Rubbing her eyes, Merry watched as Jo selected Peony’s brown leather saddle and lifted it down from its post on the wall. “Are you going out for a ride?”

  “Not me. Your sister is, though.”

  Merry heaved herself off the couch. “She’s afraid of horses. Did you know that? It’s not fair.” She pursed her lips a little, and Jo tried not to think about how helpless she was in the face of that pout. “I’d give anything to be able to ride, and Ella, who probably won’t even like it, gets to.”

  They’d decided days ago that horseback riding wasn’t the safest pastime for a woman solidly in her third trimester. But something was tickling at the back of Jo’s brain—a plan to get Merry and Ella talking again, give Ella more confidence with the horses, and let Merry enjoy some time with them, as well.

  Switching out the bridle she’d grabbed for a soft rope halter and lead, Jo shoved the heavy saddle back onto its post. “Come on. I need your help with something.”

  *

  Grady laid the leather reins against the left side of Voyager’s neck and clucked softly. The big gelding responded at once, pacing a slow, wide circle around the fenced-in paddock.

  Voyager had to lift his hooves high to step over the white-painted
wooden poles scattered around the sawdust-covered ground. Grady tested himself by closing his eyes and guiding Voyager’s footwork using only the pressure of his knees against the gelding’s sides.

  “How are you doing that?” Ella asked from outside the paddock. She crossed her arms on the top rail of the fence and hooked one foot through the bottom rung.

  Grady smiled slowly. “Magic.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Jo called as she led Peony out of the barn and down the dirt track to the paddock gate. “Anyone can learn how to do it.”

  He turned Voyager’s nose away from the gate when Jo went to open it. No sense giving him the idea it was time to head back to his stall.

  “I don’t know,” Ella was saying, and he looked over his shoulder to see her leaning away from the bay mare as she passed. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. And where’s her saddle? You’re not expecting me to ride her bareback, are you?”

  There was a slight tinge of panic coloring Ella’s tone, enough to make Grady wheel Voyager around and walk the gelding over to her section of fence.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assured her, not missing the way she seemed to hold her breath before letting it out gently and reaching a tentative hand to rub Voyager’s soft gray muzzle.

  The gelding snorted happily, flicking her with his whiskers, and Ella smiled, relaxed. Until she glanced back and saw who had followed Jo and Peony out of the barn.

  Merry moved slowly, placing her feet carefully on the uneven slope down to the paddock. She didn’t look at her sister, didn’t acknowledge her with so much as a flutter of an eyelash, and Grady only realized he’d squeezed Voyager too tightly with his knees when the gelding backed up a few restless steps.

  Calming the horse and settling more firmly into the saddle, Grady watched as Jo led Peony into the center of the paddock by the long lead attached to a simple halter.

  He had a pretty good idea of what she was up to, and it was a damn smart thought.