He set down the other bags he was carrying, and they both pulled out their phones. “What’s yours?” he asked, thumbs poised and at the ready.
She told him, and they said goodnight, hesitating just long enough for it to feel awkward again, and then he turned and continued down the hall while Emily quickly entered her room. Once inside, she leaned against the solid wooden door, feeling stupidly girlish about having just given a man her number, or maybe those flutters in her stomach were just from hunger. Yes, that was probably it. Just hunger.
“What’s up with you?” Chloe asked. She was already lying on the bed, and her stuff was strewn all over the room. How had she made such a mess in the ninety seconds Emily had been out in the hall? It was a real gift that girl had.
“Nothing is up with me. I’m just tired and starving. Let’s get something to eat before it’s too late.”
“I think he’s cute, too.”
“What?”
“Ryan. He’s a hottie. I mean, for an old guy. You should totally hang out with him while we’re on the island.”
Emily pushed herself away from the door and kicked off her high heels. They’d been a terrible decision and her feet were killing her, but she’d expected to arrive on the island today and wanted to look nice. And successful. Mostly she wanted to look successful, because as far as her family was concerned, that’s what she was. A successful businesswoman, and it wasn’t that she wanted to be dishonest, she just didn’t want to add penniless moocher to her résumé. If anyone discovered her current state of money troubles, there’d be whispers, and then there’d be roars. Some people would want to rescue her, while others would enjoy seeing her fail. She just didn’t need any of that right now.
She didn’t need Ryan Taggert, the Good Looking Guy in the Nice Suit, either. Even if he was interested, he’d just be a messy complication to her already messy life. Plus, he’d told her he lived in Sacramento, which was too far from San Antonio to be workable anyway. Said the cart as it looked back at the horse.
“Ryan seems very nice, Chloe, but this trip is about family and work. That’s all.”
“I wouldn’t mind, you know.”
“Wouldn’t mind what?” Emily pulled the ends of her top out from the waistband of her skirt and crossed over to the bathroom.
“If you were dating somebody. I mean, it seems kind of like you should be dating people. You haven’t had a boyfriend in forever, and I’m going to start dating people eventually, and then what will you have to do?”
Emily looked over at her daughter, her sweet daughter with the sleepy eyes, curled up on a bed and looking very much like the little girl Emily saw her as. But Chloe was right. She was twelve, and in a handful of years she’d be dating. Heck, she’d be driving. And then, really, what was Emily going to do?
Chapter 3
The first thing Emily noticed as she got off the ferry at Wenniway Island and walked with Chloe down the short dock to Main Street of Trillium Bay was the wonderfully familiar aroma of fudge, lilacs . . . and horse manure. An earthy-sweet mixture that sent her mind scampering right back to childhood summers. Their last two visits had been in December, just fast trips back for Christmas, and long after all the flowers had wilted away and many of the horses had been moved back to the mainland for their long winter’s nap. She hadn’t noticed the absence of the smell then, but now it filled her nose, triggering a flood of memories, both happy and sad. She pushed the sad ones aside for now. No sense in dwelling.
The next thing Emily noticed was Dmitri Krushnic in his beekeeper’s hat talking to a man on a horse. This in and of itself was not that unusual because she’d known Dmitri Krushnic since she was a little girl and he always wore his beekeeping hat, even when he was nowhere near his bees. Seeing a man on a horse wasn’t that odd either. Cars had been banned on Wenniway Island since 1891, so horses, bikes, and good old-fashioned walking were the general modes of transportation. What was slightly askew about this scene, however, was that the man on the horse appeared to be wearing nothing but a very tiny loincloth and a very large Native American headdress.
“What the what?” Emily muttered, reaching out to cover the unsuspecting eyes of her too-young-for-this daughter. “Chloe, don’t look.”
“It’s too late,” Chloe said mildly. “The vision is already seared into my retinas. That’s the whitest skin I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes, it is.” Emily nodded, dropping her hands to stare alongside her daughter.
“It’s authentic, you idiot. We’re reenacting, and this is just how Chief Eagle Feather did it.” The exhibitionist on the horse shook his fist in Dmitri’s general direction.
Dmitri jabbed a pointed finger back at him, accidentally poking the horse. She didn’t seem to notice. She just looked around, bored as an old gray mare who’d seen it all and just wanted to go back to her barn and eat some oats.
“Listen, Clancy,” said Dmitri, “I’m as devoted to the history of this island as you are, and yes, those of us on the historical committee recognize and appreciate your passion for authenticity. And while we also concur that Chief Eagle Feather rode naked through the streets warning the townspeople that the British were invading, that doesn’t mean you can ride down Main Street today wearing nothing but a smile and SPF 75. There are children present.” His arms swung to the side, indicating the presence of passersby, many of whom were now scurrying away. Dmitri turned his head and spotted Emily and Chloe standing just a few feet away. Standing and staring. “Look! See? There’s a child. She’s traumatized.”
“Oh heck no. Leave me out of this.” Chloe ducked behind her mother, and Emily bit back a smile. Good to know she was still needed for something, if only to serve as a human shield.
“She’s fine, fellas,” Emily called out, turning and nudging Chloe toward the opposite sidewalk. “We’ll be moving along now.”
“Peach?” Dmitri pulled off the beekeeper’s hat, exposing long, dark hair liberally streaked with gray. “Peachy-keen, is that you?”
So much for making a quiet entrance back into town. She’d hoped to get to Gigi’s place and get settled in before the locals knew she was there. Her sisters knew she was arriving today, but not an exact time, and she’d only hinted to her father that she might be dropping by sometime this summer. So much for stealth.
“No, it’s not me. I’m someone else entirely.” She nudged Chloe a little harder with the knuckle of her index finger.
“Ohmygosh,” Chloe whispered, “I forgot they all call you Peach.”