Feeling somewhat guilty for feeling all of those emotions, Mara realized that by an incident of fate, she was unencumbered and able to seek out something new for herself. She was no longer tied to a dying business she felt obligated to continue. It was a frightening yet exciting notion that she could carve out her own place in the world instead of following tradition.
Looking back, she was fairly certain that her mother had wanted something better for her, which was why she’d tried to send Mara to college. “Maybe she didn’t want me to carry on the family tradition. She knew the store wasn’t making money. Maybe it was me who just wanted to hold on to a piece of my mom,” she muttered to herself as she wandered out of the bedroom.
After quickly donning one of the new outfits Sarah had bought her so she didn’t have to wear Jared’s T-shirts anymore, she left the house and walked outside, limping a little as she made her way down to the beach. Her injury was almost painless now, and the ice that Jared had applied to the strained outside muscle of her ankle and keeping it elevated had taken away the swelling completely. It was nothing more than a nuisance now, and Mara was happy to be walking again.
The weather was warm, bright, and sunny as she kicked off her sandals and waded into the ocean, sighing as the cool water washed over her feet.
I love Amesport. I’m so grateful that I don’t have to move.
Her heart still ached with the losses she’d suffered from the fire, but Jared was right . . . she had her life. The near-death experience had jolted her into the reality of how fleeting and fragile that life could be, and she was determined to appreciate every new day now.
I’ll make a success of this business. Mara’s Kitchen will put out some of the best products on the East Coast. Jared is giving me this chance, and I’m going to run with it, make it as good as it can possibly be.
Flopping into one of the low, wooden chairs at the edge of the water, Mara stretched her bare legs out in front of her. The red shorts Sarah had selected for her were a little shorter than she usually wore, but the matching red-and-white-striped shirt was comfortable. The water beckoned her, but she had to treat her ankle gingerly for a while, give the stretched muscle a chance to completely heal. Work came first, and she needed to be able to get around well without restrictions. Reinjuring it would delay all of the ambitious plans she was forming in her mind. It seemed so strange to be planning a business of her own, something that would be entirely new for her. Although she liked using the skills her mother had taught her to sew and make dolls, cooking was actually her first love. She was never more at home than when she was in the kitchen trying to improve on the already-incredible recipes that had been handed down from generation to generation.
She was just wondering what time Jared would be back from town when she saw a lone figure walking down the beach toward her. Squinting and shading her eyes with her hand, she noticed the male figure making his way slowly toward her. Gaping shamelessly, she acknowledged that the enormous male was actually wearing a suit and tie. Who in the heck would be wearing a suit in this heat, and on the beach, no less?
Not Jared. This guy is even bigger than Jared, which is saying something because Jared dwarfs most normal men.
The Peninsula was private, as were the beaches here, so it had to be a Sinclair, a guest of one of the family, or a trespasser.
Evan Sinclair.
She recognized the eldest Sinclair brother’s purposeful stride and jet-black hair before she could actually see his features. Mara had wanted to thank him since he’d rescued her, and it appeared she was going to get her chance.
“Ms. Ross,” he drawled haughtily, stopping a few feet from her chair.
“Evan.” She looked up at him with a hand still shading her eyes. A long way up. One of the first things Jared had arranged for her was a new pair of glasses, but Mara wasn’t wearing them at the moment. That didn’t present a problem, as he was definitely big enough to see clearly. The only thing obscuring her vision was the blazing sun. Mara refused to call him Mr. Sinclair. There were definitely way too many Sinclair men in Amesport at the moment, and this particular male had saved her life. “Would you like to sit?” She motioned to the chair next to her. “Why are you wearing a suit on the beach?” She stifled a laugh as she noticed that he was carrying a pair of shoes that were obviously intended to match his clothing, the socks tucked inside. His pant legs were rolled up just enough to keep them from getting wet. He was quite a sight, the rest of him looking absolutely pristine and much more suited to be in a boardroom than at the beach.
Lowering his big body into the wooden chair, he answered irritably, “This happens to be my everyday attire, Ms. Ross. I work. I don’t normally go for any kind of strolls on the beach. It’s a waste of time.”
“Mara, please.” Good grief, the man was edgy, and she hoped that he was joking.