A Treasure Worth Keeping. Kathryn Springer

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      “Maybe they’re lost.” Patrick grinned. “But I’ll still try to talk them into buying a pair of seagull salt-and-pepper shakers.”

      Evie laughed. Beach Glass didn’t have a single kitschy item like the ones he’d just described. Her dad spent the winter months combing estate sales to find rare objects—the ones that escorted his customers down memory lane. Patrick had told her more than once that everyone needed a connecting point to their past. Sometimes it was a book they remembered reading as a child or the exact twin of the pitcher their grandmother had used to pour maple syrup on their pancakes when they were growing up. Beach Glass was off the beaten path, but people still managed to find it. And when they left, it was usually as the owner of some small treasure.

      “Just put that stuff by the door, Dad, and I’ll take care of it in a few minutes.” Evie couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder at the truck idling in the tiny parking lot next to the antique shop. The tinted windows obscured the inside cab from view. She hesitated a moment but whoever was driving the pickup wasn’t in a hurry to get out.

      She went inside and finished unpacking her clothes, glad she’d tossed in a few sweaters. A person could never be too prepared and the breeze off the lake still had a bite.

      When she peeked outside half an hour later, the truck was gone. She poured two iced coffees and headed across the yard to the shop. More than half the furnishings in her own home were compliments of Beach Glass, and she was eager to see the latest bounty her father had added since her last visit.

      “What do you mean he’s staying on the boat?”

      Evie paused at the sound of Patrick’s agitated voice through the screen door.

      “Well, that’s just one of our problems….” His voice lowered, ebbing away like the tide, and then strengthened again. “He stopped by a little while ago, insisting we bring him along. No, I don’t trust him any more than you do, Jacob…but Sophie—”

      Evie realized she was holding her breath. She’d never heard her dad sound so stressed.

      “I suppose we can delay the trip but I’m afraid if we don’t go as planned, Sophie is going to get…No, go ahead. Evie might be on her way over. I’ll talk to you later this evening.”

      It suddenly occurred to Evie that she was eavesdropping. She backed away from the door, replaying the part of the conversation she’d overheard.

      The elusive Sophie Graham again.

      Evie had never seen the woman, even during the reconnaissance mission Caitlin had tried to set up the previous summer. In the interest of maintaining sibling harmony, Evie had dropped a few subtle hints to her dad that she’d like to meet Sophie sometime, but all she could get out of him was that the mysterious Sophie wasn’t in good health.

      “Evie?”

      She froze midstep.

      Her dad may have been a bit forgetful but apparently there was nothing wrong with his hearing.

      Evie winced and caught her lower lip between her teeth. All the times she’d preached to her students that honesty was the best policy came rushing back. She pressed the glasses against her cheeks to put out the fire in them. The downside of having red hair and fair skin. She couldn’t hide a blush to save her life.

      “I brought you a reward for working so hard,” she called through the screen door.

      Patrick appeared on the other side and Evie could see the furrows in his forehead, as deep as stress cracks in a wall.

      “So, did you sell some of those salt shakers?” Evie asked, deliberately keeping her voice cheerful to cover up the guilt nipping at her conscience.

      Patrick’s mouth tightened. “No. He wasn’t interested in buying anything.”

      “Who—”

      “Let’s take this out to the garden, shall we? You can enjoy the fruit of last summer’s labor while you take a break. Some of the plants are already coming up, and it’s going to be beautiful.”

      Evie handed him one of the glasses and saw his fingers tremble as he reached for it. Worry scoured the lining of her stomach.

      “Dad, is everything all right?” She tried to piece together the fragments of the conversation she’d overheard. It had sounded like someone else wanted to come along on the fishing trip. But why would that upset him? And what did Sophie Graham have to do with it?

      “Right as rain.”

      “There’s nothing right about rain unless you have an umbrella,” Evie said promptly. It was an old joke between them, and she relaxed when he smiled.

      Maybe her concern over the fishing trip was making her read more into the conversation she’d overheard. It was possible her father was simply a little uptight because he was taking a vacation for the first time in—Evie did a quick calculation—twelve years. Not since the year her mother was killed.

      Chapter Two

      Evie had her alarm set for five-thirty. Not to make sure Patrick ate his oatmeal but to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Else.

      She pulled on her robe and slipped into the kitchen, only to discover her sneaky father had already left. The coffee was on and he’d left a note taped to the refrigerator.

      I’ll call you as soon as I can. Relax. Love, Dad.

      Evie snatched the note off the fridge and frowned. The faint smell of bacon and eggs lingered in the air. No wonder he hadn’t wanted her to get up before he left. He’d wanted to eat his artery-clogging breakfast without a witness.

      And what exactly did he mean by relax? Was she supposed to relax because she was on summer vacation? Or was she supposed to relax while knowing her dad, who thought one pair of socks per day was sufficient, was going on a two-week fishing trip with Jacob Cutter? A former Marine. The two men had known each other only six months, and already Jacob was pushing Patrick out of his familiar routine. Evie didn’t like Jacob Cutter. Her dad was a scholar, not an outdoorsman. A retired high school English teacher. What was Jacob thinking?

      Her doubts about the trip had increased the evening before while Patrick packed his things. Evie had noticed an important piece of equipment missing from the gear piled by the door. When she’d called his attention to it, Patrick had laughed self-consciously and disappeared outside to rummage around in one of the outbuildings, finally returning with a fishing pole.

      Shortly after watching her dad hook his thumb on one of the lures, Evie had had a burst of inspiration. She could go with them. As the cook. Keeper of the campfire. That sort of thing. When she’d brought it up to Patrick, he’d looked less than enthusiastic. In fact, he’d looked slightly offended and had reminded her that the reservations were for two people and they couldn’t add someone else this late in the game. Which meant the owner of the black pickup truck who’d tried to coerce Patrick and Jacob into taking him along wasn’t going, either.

      No wonder Patrick had run out on her so early in the morning. Maybe he’d thought she’d stow away in the backseat.

      Too bad she hadn’t thought of that sooner.

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