Her Sister’s Gift (Charlevoix Dreams #4)

Chapter 1

Samantha

Perched on the dune behind her house, Samantha Quinn was feeling good about her life.

This was the way she liked things. Everything in its place.

Their baby sister Izzy was finally married.

Again. This was her third marriage and to her first husband but who’s counting.

That was Izzy. Growing up, she drove Sam nuts.

As Sam’s ex Kurt used to say, “that girl’s a dumpster fire.

” When Sam lived in Chicago, it had been easy to distance herself from Izzy’s chaos.

It had been easy to roll her eyes, thinking here we go again.

Then chaos came to Sam’s own life. She was blonde and her name was Chelsey.

Her divorce had been one reason Sam had retreated to their family summer home in Charlevoix, Michigan.

Sam wanted family. She needed support. As the oldest girl she’d never in a million years admit that.

But last Christmas she’d fallen into the arms of her aunt and two sisters.

Selling her house in Chicago and moving here had been a relief.

Sam needed structure. A new structure for her life, kind of like reorganizing her silverware drawer.

The salad forks should never be mixed in with the dinner forks.

She could hear her sister Marlowe’s snort.

Now that she was living at Sunnycrest with Marlowe and their Aunt Cate, Sam didn’t go near the silverware drawer.

The forks were better left alone and so was she.

When she’d come for Christmas last year, Sam had been surprised to find Skipper Malone working at Izzy’s bakery Coffee and Cupcakes. Apparently he’d studied in Paris as a pastry chef. A real step up from beach boy and lifeguard. Sam found that amazing. Anyway, now Izzy would be Skipper’s problem.

He was great with Holly, Izzy’s adopted daughter. Sam had been amazed to discover that Izzy had adopted a baby girl. Just imagine. As a single woman, Izzy had pulled that off. Was she jealous? Was that envy curling around her heart after she met precious little Holly? No, probably just indigestion.

Picking up a flat gray stone, Sam ran her thumb over it. Remembering how she used to skip stones with her sister Marlowe, she jumped up and brushed sand from her jeans. Strolling toward the shoreline, she searched for more flat gray stones. They had to be the right size. And they had to be flat.

Passing a young mother with her two children working on a sandcastle, she nodded.

Their castle looked so pretty with turrets and a moat.

Didn’t the mother realize it was too close to the water?

The waves would come up during the night and whisk it away.

All that work gone, just like a marriage. Gone in a heartbeat.

Eyes down, Sam kept searching. The wet sand was cool under her feet.

Summer was gone and soon only the brave would wander down to the beach.

Treacherous ice floes would form around the shoreline.

The balmy summer breeze they’d loved would become like a chemical peel gone bad.

Sam wouldn’t really know about that, but a client had one long ago.

Sam depended on her Pond’s cream at night, just like her mom.

Let forty-plus years do what they might.

That had been her plan before Chelsey came along with her plumped lips and forehead that never frowned.

All that made Sam reconsider, but only for a minute.

Before too long she had a handful of rocks.

Going back to the blanket, she set them in a neat pile and walked in the opposite direction.

As the sun set, the rhythm of Lake Michigan seemed to slow.

Sleepy waves lapped the shore with lazy strokes, as if worn out by a busy day.

Their long watery fingers could wipe everything clean.

The shoreline would have a fresh start the next day.

The children would start all over too, yesterday’s castle forgotten.

Sam wished she could do that with her life.

A divorce had never been what she pictured in her future.

But what woman can see that coming? Goodness if they did, they’d steer clear of any blondes with one dimple in their right cheek, near their plump lips.

Sam should have asked for an older marketing assistant for that account.

A woman with gray hair, comfortable shoes and glasses.

Instead she got Chelsea with her blonde hair and dimples.

Had Izzy’s wedding been encouraging or was it a sad reminder that things weren’t great in Sam’s world?

Sure, she had reunited with her high school crush, but Josh McCall came with a lot of luggage.

Did Sam want to unpack all that? His two teenagers didn’t like her and neither did his interfering mother.

The situation wasn’t any girl’s dream. Especially when the girl was forty-two.

Circling back to the blanket, she dumped her latest handful of stones.

A rustle in the sea grass startled her and she turned.

But instead of seeing a seagull ruffling its feathers, her sister Marlowe was plowing down the sand dune in her bare feet.

Tonight had been Marlowe's turn to take care of the dishes.

They'd sorted the house duties now that Sunnycrest, the family home, was finally renovated.

Sam smiled as Marlowe settled into the warm sand next to her. “Everything okay up at the house? Did you start the dishwasher?”

“You bet, Mom,” Marlowe said with a chuckle. Okay, so sometimes she did act like her sisters’ mother at times. You bet. Sam smiled at the phrase Izzy’s toddler often used.

“Feels kind of quiet up there without Izzy and Holly, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, the house does feel weird. No more Piper barking at the deliveries.” They chuckled. Izzy had taken her dog to the new house, which had a mother-in-law’s suite–perfect for Skipper’s mom and his sister.

“Don’t suppose you’ve visited Facebook today.” Snapping off a piece of sea grass, Marlowe gave her a cautious glance.

What was this? “No. Why? Should I?”

Marlowe looked like she wanted to eat her words.

Instead she began chewing on the seagrass.

Sam swung her eyes to the horizon, all pink and orange now.

The young family was packing up for the day, abandoning their sandcastle.

“So cute, aren’t they?” Her sister nodded down to the children with all their beach toys.

“Yes they are but what about Facebook?” Sometimes Sam slipped back into that parental tone. And she hated it. Her sisters weren’t children anymore. They weren’t the sad family that had been left by their parents’ fatal accident. She watched Marlowe's nostrils flare. “Sorry for the tone.”

“Some habits die hard.” Marlowe gave her a tolerant smile.

Sam gave her head a shake. “Being here at Sunnycrest reminds me of those summers when we’d come up from Chicago after Mom and Dad...you know.”

Marlowe flopped back with a sigh. “I know. But that’s long behind us.” Marlowe was going to get sand in her hair but Sam buttoned her lips. “Back to Facebook.”

“You might as well know.” Dragging herself upright, Marlowe shook her head. Yes, she’d definitely would have to take a shower when they got up to the house. “I don't know why I was visiting Kurt's page anyway.”

“Kurt?” Her ex-husband's name hit Sam like a lightning strike.

“You might as well know.” Marlowe ran her sandy fingers through her long mahogany hair. Made Sam crazy. “He posted some pictures. That's all.”

“More wedding pictures I suppose.” Her ex had wasted no time in marrying Chelsea. He had plans, including his girlfriend’s pregnancy.

Marlowe chewed on the seagrass. “No wedding pictures. Not this time.”

Then it hit her. “The baby?” Sam’s stomach sank. The sun was down and her serenity was gone.

“I don’t want you to be blindsided. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Whipping out her phone, Sam punched in her code. Her hands shook and her breath tightened. Why was she doing this? Yep, there it was. Kurt’s profile picture had been replaced by a red-faced baby with a lot of brown hair. The linked hands cradling the newborn must belong to Chelsea and Kurt.

“You knew this was coming, right?” Marlowe’s arm came around her and Sam leaned into her sister. If they were still scattered from Naples, Florida, to New York, this would be a phone conversation. Sam wouldn’t have this comfort. And boy, was she glad.

She blew out a sigh. “I knew this was coming, but in the excitement of Izzy’s wedding, I forgot.”

“No fool like an old fool.”

“I can’t see Kurt taking night feedings.” She tucked the phone back in her pocket. But that picture was imprinted in her mind. “Strange because he never wanted children, remember?”

“You built the agency instead. And that’s going great.” Grabbing a couple of the gray stones, Marlowe began shifting them in her hand, like worry beads.

“The company’s doing fine.” But it wasn’t a baby.

“My half of the business, that is.” She was proud of their ad agency, even though they had to split Ramsey and Associates during their settlement.

She didn’t know what to do about that name, but they had wanted to assure their clients of a clean, friendly transfer.

“Time to dream about your future.” Marlowe would not give up. “Your future and Josh.”

A future with Josh McCall, her high school boyfriend, was feeling more distant every day.

Sam didn’t want to go into it. But something in her sister’s voice made Sam suspicious.

“Are you dreaming too? Maybe about Brad Howington?” Sam and Marlowe both volunteered for bingo at Tall Oaks, a retirement community owned by Brad. The residents loved him.

Marlowe blew one of her familiar raspberries. “Dreams don't always have to be about men.” But the flush on her sister's cheeks wasn't from the setting sun.