Safe In His Arms. Anna J. Stewart

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      Hunter felt a tug on his shirt. When he turned and looked down, he saw Phoebe, clutching a hardbound book against her chest as if it were gold. “What do you have, kiddo?” He bent down, held out his hands and felt his heart break a little more when she handed over a brand-new copy of Charlotte’s Web. Her eyes shone, and it wasn’t the first time he had a difficult time deciphering grief from hope. “Well, this is lovely.” His smile made his cheeks ache. “We can add this to the stack, okay? How about we go explore together? I bet there are some math puzzle books around here somewhere? We’ve been homeschooling,” he explained to Sebastian.

      Unfazed, Sebastian tapped his hand on the counter. “Then I have just the thing. Follow me.”

      A little over an hour later, the sorrow over Phoebe’s main choice of book had been tempered by the half dozen other books Sebastian had talked her into trying. A few were ones Hunter never would have considered, given they were far above a seven-year-old’s reading level, but Sebastian had sat on the floor with Phoebe and explained each one, encouraging her by letting her know his daughter had loved these books at her age.

      The science and math workbooks were a pleasant surprise and included lots of fun experiments they could do together.

      “Depending on how fast she goes through these,” Sebastian told Hunter as he accepted Hunter’s credit card, “you might want to start visiting the library. Phoebe’s old enough for her own card.”

      Gripping the edge of the counter, Phoebe’s eyes went wide, and she bounced on her toes.

      “Won’t that cut into your profit margin?” Hunter joked.

      “It’s good business sense. A reader like her is hard to find, and we want to keep readers interested. Alternating between will keep things fresh. You’ll find the library two blocks north from the elementary school.”

      “Good to know.”

      Phoebe inched closer to him at the mention of school. Hunter laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, their silent sign that he understood and she could relax.

      “And, because I expect you’ll be repeat customers, here you go, Phoebe. Your very own Cat’s Eye book bag.” Sebastian placed a few of her books into the drawstring bag, then stepped around the counter to help her slip it on like a backpack. “You bring this with you whenever you come in, okay?”

      She nodded so hard she almost tipped over. “Thank you.”

      Hunter felt a burst of happiness at Phoebe responding without prompting. She must have decided that Cat’s Eye Books was a safe place.

      “You sure I can’t interest you in a cat?” Sebastian asked. “Or maybe two? Two is always better so they each have a companion. I’m sure Chuck is around here—”

      “Nice try.” Hunter chuckled and purposely did his best not to look anywhere near Phoebe. A pet might be a good idea, but maybe something smaller. Like a goldfish. “Appreciate your help. And the information. I’ll be in touch about talking to you and Frankie and her brother. I bet you guys can give me some insights into this town few others can.”

      “Count on it.”

      Hunter held out his free hand once they were back outside. “Well, Phoebs. I have to say that’s the most fun bookstore I’ve ever been to.”

      People roamed the street, darting across the road toward the beach. Seagulls cawed in the distance as the scent of briny seaweed coated the air.

      “I’d say we’ve had a good first day in Butterfly Harbor. How do you want to finish it? The beach or...”

      “Ice cream!” Phoebe tugged hard on his hand and pulled him to the next shop. Harbor Creamery.

      “You sure?” Hunter feigned disbelief. “I don’t know. You had a big lunch.”

      Phoebe scrunched her face, dragged him closer and jabbed a finger against the menu displayed in the window.

      “Oh, they have kiddie scoops.” They also had gelato, which Phoebe pointed to next. Even at seven, she knew his weakness. “Okay, one scoop. But that means broccoli with dinner.”

      Phoebe shrugged and led the way inside.

      IF KENDALL WAS LUCKY, and had Frankie’s help, she’d get the scaffold erected on the west side of the lighthouse this week. She had a lot of painting to do. As the sun began to dip for the day, Kendall gathered up her tools, stashed them in the rebuilt shed and pulled down her makeshift workstation. Kids got into everything, and the last thing she wanted was anything enticing Hunter’s niece. Hopefully school would keep Phoebe occupied and away from...her.

      She didn’t need, didn’t want, a daily reminder of little-girl needs and wants. That everything and anything that went wrong with the world could be solved with a mother’s hug.

      She wasn’t a mother, though, Kendall reminded herself. She’d quit that dream when she’d lost Sam. She’d only come close when she’d all but adopted Samira and her family in Afghanistan.

      Samira’s father was a translator, looking after his two sons and daughter along with his late wife’s parents. Samira, at ten, had become a bit of a caretaker, always helping her father. But she’d loved soccer. And soon, she and Kendall had a standing practice session that gave both of them something to look forward to.

      “Stop it.” Kendall lugged one of her sawhorses back into the keeper’s house when Hunter’s and Phoebe’s bike tires crunched on the dirt and gravel road. Their bike baskets were filled to overflowing, and Kendall noticed Phoebe was wearing a familiar amber backpack. Obviously they’d found their way to Cat’s Eye Books.

      Apprehension tugged at Kendall’s stomach as she quickened her pace in the hopes of finishing for the day before Hunter thought to...

      “Hello.” Hunter steered his bike to the lighthouse rather than the carriage house and dismounted with that now familiar, friendly, if not quirky grin on his too-handsome face. He engaged the kickstand and plucked a small paper bag out of the front basket.

      Because she wasn’t a complete curmudgeon yet, she gave him a quick chin jerk. “Hi.” She pushed the air out of her lungs to dispel the cloud of melancholy.

      “This is for you.” Hunter offered her the bag.

      She blinked at the bag as if it were filled with snakes. “Why? What for?”

      “A peace offering of sorts. And a thank-you. For sharing this with us.” He motioned to the view of the ocean alight with the flame of the sunset.

      Kendall needed him to understand she was not up for any social interaction where he or just about anyone was concerned. She shrugged and turned away. “Not necessary. This wasn’t my choice.” And the man whose choice it was had been dodging her all day long.

      If anything, her refusal seemed to encourage him. Hunter darted over, stepping in front of her before she reached her door. “It would be rude not to accept. And even though you’re trying your best, I don’t think you’re inherently rude.”

      Kendall shot him a humorless СКАЧАТЬ