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Authors: Vickie McKeehan
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up.” The statement was said simply, with understanding and compassion.
Isabella sucked in a huge intake of breath. Her spine stiffened in denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Can’t say I agree with what you’re doing but… People often go to extreme lengths to…”
Her attempt at denial turned to cold dread. Had she and Logan made some mistake, some misstep that would send an alert to the wrong person? “How could you know that? Are we wearing some kind of sign?”
“Not at all. But for me it comes with the territory. I just want you to know…” Scott’s parting words before he vanished were short and sweet and to the point. “You can trust me.”
Later, as she crawled into bed, his vow stayed with her. Even though he’d tried to be reassuring, Isabella wasn’t completely sold. Trust meant coming up with faith when she wasn’t sure she should rely on anyone but herself. Best she remembered that. She was well aware she couldn’t afford to let down her guard.
Cautious and wary to a fault, she had yet to go out of her way to make friends or become part of the community. So far, she’d been content to keep to herself, tending the keeper’s cottage with minimal interaction toward anyone else. Getting her life together was a damned good excuse to keep her distance. Thane and Jonah, and even Scott, seemed determined to change that.
Whether or not she stayed on the sidelines, it remained an option. Low-key is what she’d sought and what she’d found. Getting dragged into someone else’s dynamics wasn’t high on her to-do list. But she knew firsthand such things were rarely predictable and were difficult to avoid in such a small town. She’d best remember that, too.
As she drifted into sleep, it wasn’t that mantra on her mind at all. Her last subconscious thought flashed a clear image of ripped Thane Delacourt and his adorable son, beaming as bright as the lighthouse in her front yard.
Chapter Five
A fter years of economic downturn, Pelican Pointe was making a comeback, slowly, bit by bit, store by store. With each storefront that filled up along its streets, with each new business opening its doors, with each dollar plunked down within its city limits, the townspeople gained and profited.
From Janie Pointer’s Snip N Curl to Drea’s Flower Shop to Ferguson’s Hardware, stores along Main had already dragged out their Halloween decorations. Images of ghosts and goblins, witches and ghouls, adorned the windows and doors of new businesses and old. Julianne Dickinson had yet to open her resale shop next door to the church. But while some residents were still in the planning stages, there were others who were eager to have their own pizza parlor in the works.
Reopening the school had brought an influx of new people into town. Parents of all different ethnic groups had moved in, enrolling their kids in hopes of nurturing a diverse and vibrant community, a foundation for the future.
What better way to establish that than fostering a new band of community spirit?
Tucker Ferguson knew all too well about community spirit or lack of it. Over the last five years, his father had managed to alienate much of the hardware store’s customer base. Old age had made a cranky man out of Joe Ferguson. Now retired and living in Florida, Tucker’s parents had handed him the reins of a store with a major drop-off in profits. Tucker knew that his dad’s prickly “me” attitude had contributed to the decline in revenue. Men like Logan Donnelly and Nick Harris had gotten fed up with his father’s “what’s in it for me?” outlook and had threatened to drive to San Sebastian for all their lumber and hardware needs. Taking over the day-to-day operation of Ferguson’s Hardware, Tucker had an uphill battle if he intended to change attitudes.
He had a boatyard that required a steady stream of lumber, a new pizza restaurant undergoing a gutted renovation, and residents
Isabella sucked in a huge intake of breath. Her spine stiffened in denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Can’t say I agree with what you’re doing but… People often go to extreme lengths to…”
Her attempt at denial turned to cold dread. Had she and Logan made some mistake, some misstep that would send an alert to the wrong person? “How could you know that? Are we wearing some kind of sign?”
“Not at all. But for me it comes with the territory. I just want you to know…” Scott’s parting words before he vanished were short and sweet and to the point. “You can trust me.”
Later, as she crawled into bed, his vow stayed with her. Even though he’d tried to be reassuring, Isabella wasn’t completely sold. Trust meant coming up with faith when she wasn’t sure she should rely on anyone but herself. Best she remembered that. She was well aware she couldn’t afford to let down her guard.
Cautious and wary to a fault, she had yet to go out of her way to make friends or become part of the community. So far, she’d been content to keep to herself, tending the keeper’s cottage with minimal interaction toward anyone else. Getting her life together was a damned good excuse to keep her distance. Thane and Jonah, and even Scott, seemed determined to change that.
Whether or not she stayed on the sidelines, it remained an option. Low-key is what she’d sought and what she’d found. Getting dragged into someone else’s dynamics wasn’t high on her to-do list. But she knew firsthand such things were rarely predictable and were difficult to avoid in such a small town. She’d best remember that, too.
As she drifted into sleep, it wasn’t that mantra on her mind at all. Her last subconscious thought flashed a clear image of ripped Thane Delacourt and his adorable son, beaming as bright as the lighthouse in her front yard.
Chapter Five
A fter years of economic downturn, Pelican Pointe was making a comeback, slowly, bit by bit, store by store. With each storefront that filled up along its streets, with each new business opening its doors, with each dollar plunked down within its city limits, the townspeople gained and profited.
From Janie Pointer’s Snip N Curl to Drea’s Flower Shop to Ferguson’s Hardware, stores along Main had already dragged out their Halloween decorations. Images of ghosts and goblins, witches and ghouls, adorned the windows and doors of new businesses and old. Julianne Dickinson had yet to open her resale shop next door to the church. But while some residents were still in the planning stages, there were others who were eager to have their own pizza parlor in the works.
Reopening the school had brought an influx of new people into town. Parents of all different ethnic groups had moved in, enrolling their kids in hopes of nurturing a diverse and vibrant community, a foundation for the future.
What better way to establish that than fostering a new band of community spirit?
Tucker Ferguson knew all too well about community spirit or lack of it. Over the last five years, his father had managed to alienate much of the hardware store’s customer base. Old age had made a cranky man out of Joe Ferguson. Now retired and living in Florida, Tucker’s parents had handed him the reins of a store with a major drop-off in profits. Tucker knew that his dad’s prickly “me” attitude had contributed to the decline in revenue. Men like Logan Donnelly and Nick Harris had gotten fed up with his father’s “what’s in it for me?” outlook and had threatened to drive to San Sebastian for all their lumber and hardware needs. Taking over the day-to-day operation of Ferguson’s Hardware, Tucker had an uphill battle if he intended to change attitudes.
He had a boatyard that required a steady stream of lumber, a new pizza restaurant undergoing a gutted renovation, and residents
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