by Cindy Miles
“Willa, sweetie,” she began, as they walked. The sun’s rays warmed her bare arms and legs, and made Willa’s hair shine. “You can’t just talk to any and everybody. You never know who a person really is.”
Willa’s tongue darted out to catch a glob of ketchup on her chin. “That’s why you talk to people, Mama. Then you know who they really are.”
Sean sighed. Willa was too smart for her own good sometimes. “I mean,” she began again, “you never know about people. Sometimes, they could be... I don’t know. Hiding something.”
Willa squinted as she looked at her. “You mean, like hiding candy in their pocket?”
Sean shook her head. They reached the end of the pier. “No, honey. Like...that man you were chatting with. He could be, I don’t know. A stalker!” She knelt down to look Willa eye-to-eye. “He probably isn’t, but that’s the thing. You never know. So you have to be really, really careful about who you talk to. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Willa said slowly. She turned to the water then, chewing on her hot dog, and by the quizzical expression on her face, Willa was turning everything Sean had said over and over in her mind.
Sean could only hope her daughter retained some of her advice.
* * *
A FEW DAYS later Sean and Willa drove into the next town—over the marsh, past the Coast Guard station and over the drawbridge—to shop at the larger grocery store. Sean wanted to stock up so she wouldn’t have to make another trip in for at least a month. Since it was just her and Willa, they didn’t need a lot, but still—certain foods disappeared fast. They walked in through the automatic doors, a blast of cold air greeting them, and Willa raced straight to the produce section. There weren’t too many people in the store, which was fine with Sean. She and Willa mulled over a large display of peaches.
“What, no fairy wings?” a husky voice said from behind her.
Startled, Sean turned, and there he was again. The ponytailed, bearded stranger with a killer smile and a taste for stinky onions. For the first time she noticed his stunning eyes, which, until now, had always been covered by a pair of aviator sunglasses. His eyes were a stormy sea green and filled with caution. And a little amusement. Maybe even curiosity. They seemed honest, those eyes. That much, she could tell.
Willa looked up from her peach selecting. “Mama has to wash them on account that she says they smell funny. She says you’re a stalker.”
Sean muttered under her breath, then flashed the man a nervous smile. Mortification struck Sean at Willa’s inadvertent tattletale of their previous conversation. But what if he really was a stalker? She didn’t know the first thing about him, other than he was a runner who ate hot dogs. “Sorry, we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“That’s right, a big giant hurry,” Willa added. “We are having a picnic at the end of the dock tonight.” She sniffed a peach. “Mama says we’re dining alfresco. With the dolphins.”
The man’s gaze moved over Sean’s face. He seemed to study her for a moment, intense and inquisitive. “I see. Well, then,” he drawled, “I don’t want to keep you. You two ladies have a good day.”
Sean watched him walk away, pushing a grocery cart, a very male and slightly bowlegged swagger. She noticed he never lingered too long. He said what it was he wanted to say then left. He had noticed their fairy wings, though. Sean pondered that as he wandered down an aisle and out of sight.
Who wouldn’t notice the fairy wings? Maybe she was spending way too much time wondering about it. Quickly, she and Willa picked out their fruits and vegetables. As luck would have it, once they started wandering the aisles, they ran into him again and again. He’d smile each time, give a slight nod, but didn’t say another word. Only watched with those mysterious eyes.
Perhaps he hadn’t liked the fact that she’d warned her daughter he could be a stalker.
Stalkers, though, came in many forms. Many shapes and sizes. Including handsome islanders. They could be poor, or filthy rich. They could have dazzling smiles, kind sea-green eyes or piercing blue ones. They could even have extra-butter movie popcorn in their grocery carts. Or a gallon of chocolate milk. Danger knew no boundaries. It was not prejudiced, either.
Yet, he hadn’t taken a threatening stance. Hadn’t stared too long, or made any comments or gestures that had truly made her uncomfortable. Had he?
Still, one could never be too cautious. And she wasn’t taking any more chances. She’d made that mistake in the past. Never again. Willa was all she had, and she’d keep her safe at all costs.
Even if the stranger really, truly didn’t seem all that dangerous.
Once Sean and Willa reached the river house, unloaded all the groceries and put them away then did their daily reading lesson, Willa watched cartoons while Sean started their dinner. They’d decided on meat loaf, mashed potatoes and peas. After mixing the meat, spices, egg, milk and bread crumbs, Sean shaped the loaf, placed it in one of the new pans they’d purchased and popped it in the oven. She’d started peeling the potatoes when a sudden knock sounded at the door.
They’ve found us!
Panic flashed through her, and she dropped a potato on the floor.
“I’ll get it!” Willa cried out, running to the front door.
“Willa, no!” Sean called out, but too late. Willa had the door open.
And there stood the stranger with startling green eyes.
“Mama! It’s the stalker! How did you know where we lived?” Willa asked him.
He eyed Sean over Willa’s head then looked at her daughter with a serious expression, drawing sun-bleached eyebrows together. “I’m your neighbor,” he said, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I live up the river a ways.”
“That was you on the shrimping boat,” Sean stated, rather than asked. She felt a bit foolish now, when she reflected on her immediate reaction when she’d first seen him on the boat. Drug runners or some other kind of criminal. She and Willa had been sitting on the dock, their toes in the warm salt water, when the big boat appeared around the bend. Fight or flight was her immediate response, and she’d chosen to fly. She’d expected...something else. Not a shrimp fisherman.
He gave a half nod. “With my dad.”
Correction. A family shrimper.
“Are you a pirate?” Willa asked.
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Do I look like a pirate?”
Willa cocked her head, her dark hair hugging her jaw. “I think you look like a pretend pirate.”
The man met Sean’s gaze. Amusement danced in his eyes. “Is that so?”
Willa’s head bobbed. “Yes, because you have long hair and a beard and your skin is brown. But you don’t have a patch on one eye. Or a parrot on your shoulder.” She sniffed. “Or the right hat.”
“Willa, honestly,” Sean muttered.
He merely smiled. “A parrot and an eye patch, huh?”
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Willa blurted.
The man stuck out his hand. “Well, that’s good advice, then. I’m Nathan Malone. Now we won’t be strangers anymore.”
Willa looked at Sean, and she nodded her approval. Willa shook his hand. “My name is Willa Jane Jacobs, and I’m five and a half.”
“Nice to meet you, Willa,” Nathan said. He glanced again at Sean. Waiting.
“Uh, sorry. Sean. Jacobs,” she said hastily. She could use her manners even though she had no intentions of getting to know her neighbors, or anyone else on the island. She and Willa were here for a short time. Nothing more. The very last thing she wanted was to become friendly. With anyone.
When Nathan held out his hand, she accepted it and gave a hesitant shake. She didn’t hold his hand for long. But enough time, though, to notice how rough it was. Strong. Definitely the hand of a working man. Or a pirate. “Sorry, we were just—I’m in t
he middle of cooking.” She glanced behind her, to where her potatoes awaited her, then looked back at Nathan.
“Right,” Nathan answered in a slow drawl. “Dining alfresco with the dolphins.” He reached for a foil-covered plate that he’d set on the top step and handed it to Sean. “Since we’re neighbors, my granddad insisted on sending over these cheddar biscuits. He swears they go with anything.” Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Welcome to Cassabaw.”
Sean gave a nervous smile. Oh, God. Hope he’s not waiting around for an invitation to eat with us!
“Hey, Nathan. You wanna dine alfresco with us and the dolphins? Mama, can he?”
Ugh! Willa Jane! Panic nearly choked Sean at Willa’s casual invitation. She didn’t want him—or anyone else—to join them. The less Nathan Malone knew about her and Willa, the better off they would all be. To have dinner with him? That would lead to questions. Answers. Neither of which was Sean willing to do.
* * *
NATHAN WATCHED SEAN’S wide hazel eyes. She all but scrambled to give her daughter an answer. He decided to end her misery.
“Thanks, but I can’t,” he said to Willa. Then he glanced at Sean. He couldn’t help but wonder what her deal was. Had he done something she hadn’t liked? Maybe she was socially awkward. Either way, her eyes had glazed over with what he perceived to be pure panic at the possibility of him sticking around for supper. “I’ve got to head out.” He inclined his head toward the foil-covered plate Sean now gripped so tightly her knuckles were white. “I’ll let you girls get back to it, then.” He threw a smile at Willa. “No longer strangers, right?”
“Right!” Willa said excitedly. “Bye, Nathan!”
Nathan gave a wave and made his way down the narrow, shell-and-sand path that led to the road. He ran the half mile home. As his lungs expanded, contracted and the salty low-tide marsh seeped into his nostrils, his thoughts stayed on the woman and her daughter. He recalled how he’d happened upon them wearing fairy wings, jumping around the cemetery catching fireflies. That image didn’t fit the way she’d panicked at the thought of him eating supper with them. Not that he would have accepted anyway. Even before Willa’s impromptu invitation, it had been pretty evident Sean didn’t want him there.
This newcomer seemed edgy—not usually a characteristic of an off-islander. Typically, they wanted to be involved. Almost...like they wanted to become a local, he guessed. But this pair was different. Cautious. At least, Sean was. Willa, on the other hand, seemed like she was ready to take on any and everything that came her way. What a funny kid. And those fairy wings were... Damn, they were adorable. He couldn’t help but wonder where Willa’s father was. Deadbeat? Or just dead? Had to be, not to take part in their lives. Some men had it made and just didn’t realize it.
Regardless, it wasn’t his place to wonder. Or worry. He’d done his duty. He’d delivered the biscuits and he’d been neighborly.
Jep was waiting for him on the front porch.
Nathan inwardly groaned as he took the steps and sat on the last one, leaning against the pillar. He hadn’t wanted to approach Sean and Willa. Hadn’t wanted to go to their home. He hadn’t wanted to take them those damned biscuits. It’d all been Jep’s idea. It’s the neighborly thing to do, son. Yet despite his reluctance to visit the Jacobses, Nathan’s desire not to cross Jep Malone superseded his desire to keep a distance from women in general. He was polite when he encountered any woman. Speaking to them when they ran into one another in public was one thing. Specifically delivering homemade biscuits to a woman’s home was altogether different. That went beyond politeness and into some murky area that led to connections and relationships. Thing was, his grandfather knew it. Knew it well, too.
“You gonna let me sit here all day, or are you gonna tell me what’s what with them two?” Jep asked.
Nathan met his grandfather’s always-fiery gaze. “I wasn’t exactly welcome.”
Jep blinked, pushed his USCG cap farther back onto his head and rubbed a particular spot with his thumb. “Huh. Go figure. Probably your sunshine personality.” He furrowed his white eyebrows. “What does that mean, boy?”
Nathan watched a dragonfly land on the top of Jep’s cap. “She seems scared of something, maybe. Eyes all wide, always looking around. Like she was expecting to see someone she didn’t want to see. Didn’t have much to say at all. I could tell she wanted me gone ASAP.” Nathan picked up a pebble on the step then tossed it into the yard. “You should’ve seen her face when her kid asked me to eat with them.” Nathan shook his head and looked at his grandfather. “Pure terror.”
“Huh.” Jep’s eyes narrowed as he inspected Nathan. “Might be that bushy appearance you keep, son. You look like some crazed killer.”
Nathan grinned. “Yeah, maybe I do. Her kid ratted her out. Told me her mama said I could be a stalker. The kid said I looked more like a pirate.”
“She’s right about that,” Jep agreed with a croaky laugh. “Well. Guess we’ll have to try harder. No sense in letting them two little gals sit over there in that musty old house with only the ghosts, gulls and fiddler crabs for company.”
Nathan studied Jep’s profile. “Why are you always trying to play matchmaker, Gramps? Can’t you leave well enough alone?”
Jep guffawed. “Youth. Wasted on the young, I tell ya! In my day, a man would see a pretty girl and take it upon himself to make the first move. You, on the other hand, seem not to have caught on to that.” Jep leaned forward in his rocker, and his expression, with those big eyebrows stretched upward and eyes rounded, nearly made Nathan burst out laughing. “It’s called courtin’! Look it up in the dictionary.”
Nathan fought a smile. “We have Google now, Jep.”
“Bah! Google, schmoogle. Them two gals are all alone over there.”
“Might be how they want it,” Nathan argued. “The mama seems set on being left alone. I myself kind of like it that way, too.”
Jep pushed up from his rocker, and the bones in his knees crackled and popped. “Like I said. Try harder.” He paused and eyeballed Nathan. “And it don’t matter what you want, boy. You’re as lost as they sound. You at least got a name, didn’t you?”
Nathan nodded. “Sean and Willa Jacobs.”
Jep headed toward the door. “Willa, you say? Never heard that before. Well. At least all your good sense hasn’t left you fully yet, boy. There’s hope yet. I’ll see you tonight.”
Nathan watched his grandfather disappear into the house, and he shook his head. “Yep. Least I still have my good sense. The good sense to keep to myself.”
Before Nathan had any more time to ponder on Jep’s words, his father called out. “Nathan? You ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Nathan replied, and jogged around back and down to the dock, where his father waited to sail out for a late-day cast. Nathan leaped onto the Tiger Lily’s deck, then his father steered up the river at a slow chug. With such agreeable currents, the shrimp would be running, and Nathan hoped they’d cast a good second haul for the day.
They soon slowly passed Sean and Willa on their dock, dining alfresco as planned. Willa jumped to her feet and started waving.
“Hey, Captain Nathan!” she yelled in that little-kid voice. She had on her fairy wings, and so did her mama. Every time the little girl jumped, the wings flapped as though she would take off flying.
With the late-afternoon sun pressing against his skin, Nathan found it hard not to smile at Willa’s enthusiasm. He waved back. “Hey, Willa!”
Owen waved, too.
Sean, on the other hand, busied herself with something on the bright pink blanket spread over the dock. She kept that dark head down, her long, slender legs still showcasing the same faded cutoffs she’d been wearing earlier. The same white tank exposed skin unused to the sun. Unlike Willa’s pink wings, Sean wore white ones that sparkled when the sun caught them ju
st right. It made Nathan wonder about the reserved woman. Fairy wings seemed completely at odds with the serious, aloof side he’d witnessed. A thought caught him off guard. Something kinda sweet about a mother who’d wear wings to indulge her little girl.
As Nathan turned his gaze away, they eased out of the river and into the sound. He kept his eyes trained on the horizon. His thoughts, though, strayed back to Sean. Again, he wondered if there was something about him in particular that made her keep her distance. She was reserved and definitely not encouraging toward him. Twice, she’d actually shown what he perceived to be panic at his presence. Did he make her nervous? Or, was there actually a man in the picture? Hell, that could be it. How many off-islanders had come to Cassabaw for the summer, only to be joined by their significant other at a later date? Loads.
And now he was not only being ridiculous for thinking about it, but he was spending too much time turning scenarios over in his head. Wasn’t his business. Quickly, he pushed it from his brain. Wasn’t his problem. He didn’t care.
Couldn’t care.
Not now. Not ever again.
CHAPTER THREE
THERE WAS A certain stillness to the early morning that Sean rather liked. Before the sun rose, when the world was still quiet, or before the clouds began shifting from ominous gray and white to shades of orange and purple as they did when the sun tried to push its way through. A new day. For a long, long time, Sean believed hope came with each new day. She wished she believed it now.
This morning, Willa still slept; Sean had awakened long ago, when the chug of a boat heading downriver had drifted through her partially opened bedroom window. It was strangely peaceful, that lonesome noise. Ghostly, in a way. As if she floated in some dream world. A place where, maybe, she’d always existed and danger didn’t. It even felt somewhat safe. Normal. Rather, what she perceived normal to be. Family. Neighborly neighbors hand-delivering scrumptious cheddar biscuits.