Chapter 1 #2
There was nothing better than putting in a full day of honest work. It was one of the reasons Cody Hart used to love fishing so much. Check that. Still loved fishing. Even if he hadn’t been truly out on the water since his best friend, Troy, had died along with Troy’s dad, Steve.
He wiped oil off his hand with a shop rag he found lying on his workbench. Silence echoed in the pole shed that doubled as his home and shop. Situated next to the waters of Lake Huron on a small cove, the building had once housed his dad’s fishing business. After the accident that had sunk their boat and shuttered the business, his dad reluctantly allowed him to take over the building, at least until he sold the business. His dad kept most of their old equipment in a shed on the mainland where it had been closer to the places they’d sold their catch. Now Cody lived in the small office, which he’d converted to a bedroom and a small bathroom. Out on the large shop floor, he worked on restoring a commercial fishing boat.
Living in a shop made him feel a kinship with Dirk Pitt, hero of those old Clive Cussler books. Except instead of a shed full of classic cars, he had a beached whale of a fishing boat.
He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times to ease the ache in his fingers. Some days, he operated more like a surgeon than an ex-fisherman. The pieces he worked with could be miniscule. He contemplated the patient in front of him. Along the ten-foot length of the metal workbench spanning one wall of the shop, a John Deere inboard engine lay in pieces waiting for him to reassemble it and reinstall it into his boat.
If he could find the parts he needed.
A wave of cool air washed over him as the shop door opened and closed. For a split second, he thought he would see Troy come around the boat currently occupying the majority of the shop room floor. But, of course, he would not see Troy again. Not on this side of eternity.
“Hey, Cody. How’s it going?” Liam Stone—recent transplant to the island and current rebuilder of the Grand Hotel—appeared. “Whoa. Looks like quite a project you have there.”
“Yeah, when I bought this boat, I didn’t know it would take so much work to get it back into shape or that parts would be nearly impossible to find.” He had been confident he could rebuild the engine in his own shop and save himself some cash. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it didn’t turn out that way. Bad things always seemed to happen to him. “I waited weeks for a new overhaul kit. Then another two months for the fuel pump.”
Two years had passed since he’d stood at Troy’s grave and vowed to reopen the fishing business. He’d almost gotten the funds together for the extra gear and the boat parts. If he didn’t get back on the water soon, he’d lose all credibility with the restaurants Hart Fishing Company used to sell to. He couldn’t keep stringing them along. If he didn’t open during this fishing season, he would never open at all.
“I think I diagnosed the problem though,” Cody said. He pointed at the piston sleeve. “It’s cracked along there.”
Liam came closer. “Even I can see that. Will you replace it?”
“I’ll have to see if I can find the part on eBay. It’s not something they have down at any old hardware store. I don’t think they’d have it at the marine store over in Port Joseph either.”
“Might be easier to just replace the engine.” Liam shoved his hands into his pockets. The guy might wear jeans and T-shirts instead of a full-on suit now, but his expertly tapered brown hair and the high quality of his clothing still spoke of his former executive lifestyle.
Cody had only known the builder for a few months, but he’d come to respect him as someone who knew what he wanted and went after it. “They cost between ten and twenty thousand.” He shifted a few of the parts on the long workbench. Keeping them organized meant less of a headache later when he put the whole thing back together again.
“Probably not easier, then.” Liam’s wry grin matched his own.
“If I can’t find the part, I might be screwed.” Cody reached up to rub his hair, but remembered his grease-covered fingers just in time. “I’ll have to order a custom-made part and that can take weeks.”
“Remind me again why you’re doing this?” Liam turned and looked at the boat high and dry in the middle of the shop. “I mean, I’m not against hard work, but this seems over the top. Will this thing even float?”
Cody looked at the boat too, all thirty-one feet of her. A Radon commercial class with diesel engine—currently on his operating table—outfitted for trap or long line fishing. The paint was peeling off the hull in several places, and the deck needed a serious scrub down. Inside, the single bunk needed a new mattress, but the cockpit and cabin were clean and had been updated just before he bought it. “She needs a lot of work, but her bones are solid. And I need her if I hope to reopen my dad’s fishing business.”
“Why reopen? It seems to me you’re making a good living as the island’s favorite handyman. And there’s definitely enough of that kind of work around here to keep you busy.”
The trouble was, he couldn’t say exactly what it was that gave him this drive to move forward with the fishing business plan. “I guess it’s just that Troy and I had dreamed about taking over the company for so long. I can’t imagine doing anything else.” He paused. Swallowed. “Plus, being out on the water used to fill me up like nothing else. So, yeah, I could keep being a handyman, but I don’t love it.”
“I get that.” Liam ran a hand over the hull of the boat. “So, being a handyman pays the bills, but you’re looking for more.”
“Yep. I’ve been putting aside as much as I can spare each paycheck to buy Dad’s business and equipment. The money’s one issue. The boat’s another. But the biggest is getting my dad to transfer his fishing license to me.”
“Why wouldn’t he? You’d think he’d be glad for the retirement funds.”
“You’d think. But my dad’s one of the stubborn ones. He’s decided that the Hart Fishing Company is dead in the water—took the accident as a sign of sorts—and won’t even discuss it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m hoping that waving the actual money in his face when the time comes will change his mind though.”
“Wow. Why’s he being so stubborn about it? You’d think he’d be proud his son was taking over for him.” Liam knocked a knuckle against the boat. The thunk echoed through the high-ceilinged space.
Cody lifted a shoulder. “Honestly? I think he blames me for the accident.”
“No way. From what I’ve heard it was just that—an accident. A storm. Right?”
“Slightly more to it than that. I don’t know. Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe it was my fault.” Cody braced his hands on the workbench. “But either way, the only way to really move on with my life…to honor Troy’s memory…is to make sure our dream of owning the company comes to life.”
“I think that’s really great, man. But why can’t you go out and get a license if your dad won’t sell you his? And a loan for equipment?”
“I already tried that. No one wants to take a chance on a twenty-four-year-old whose last boat sank. And commercial fishing licenses are hard to come by in Michigan. There’s a wait list.” He shook his head. “I’m going to keep hacking away at this dream a little while longer. I don’t want to see another thing I love die.”
Liam was quiet a moment. “I get that,” he said. Then, “Listen, I mentioned to Dani that I was stopping by and she said she’d meet me here. She’s got something to talk to you about.”
Dani Sullivan, Liam’s girlfriend, worked as the head of tourism on Jonathon Island.
Great. “What does she want? She’s not going to hassle me about taking tourists charter fishing again, is she?” She’d mentioned it once before, wondering aloud if it could be a big draw. No thanks. Too much risk. Besides, he wasn’t sure how soon this boat would be up and running.
Liam cracked a smile. “No idea. Something about sprucing up some houses and some buildings in town, I think.”
Sprucing up sounded much better than taking drunk, seasick frat boys out to catch fish all summer. “You never said what you came for. Did you just come here to hassle me?”
“I hassle because I love you, you know that.” Liam had only been on the island a few months. He’d come to help Dani plan the renovations on the Grand Hotel. Already the islanders had accepted him as one of their own.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
Liam crossed his arms. “I was debating whether to do this…I need your advice on something. I wondered if you would help me pick out a gift for Dani.”
Cody stared at him. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you want me to help you pick out a gift for your girlfriend? You can’t be serious.” He spread his hands wide. “I’m not exactly the person to ask for romance advice.”
“Oh, come on. You’re probably a secret romantic.”
“As evidenced by the girls lined up, knocking down my door.” Above their heads, the shop fan turned on, its huge blades stirring up the oily scent of the building.
“The right girl is out there for you. I know it.”
A flash of a smile, brown curls, green eyes. She’d been out there since he’d first met her at four years old. He shrugged it away. That girl was off limits.
“You’ll be glad to know there is no romance involved anyway. I just wanted to buy Dani and myself a pair of fishing rods. I thought fishing could be a fun activity for us.”
Cody pictured Dani and Liam out on the water, Liam getting sprayed by fish guts. “You seriously want to do that? Aren’t you supposed to be a city kid?”
Liam uncrossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I’m trying to do better. This is a first step.”
“I don’t know, man, fishing rods are kind of romantic.” The newest Bass Pro Shop catalog featured a few that had made his heart skip a beat. Shoot. He really needed to get out more.
Liam laughed. “Maybe for you. What do you say, can you help me find a good starter rod and some tackle?”
“Sure, it’s no problem. I’ll text you a few links.”
“Hello!” Dani’s voice echoed through the cavernous shop.
“We’re on the other side of the boat,” Cody called back.
A moment later and Dani came into view. Cody had known the willowy blonde all their lives. She walked to Liam’s side, and he put his arm around her. She smiled up at him, and Cody glanced away, a pinch forming under his breastbone.
“I’ve got to get going,” Liam said. He dropped a kiss on the top of Dani’s head. “See you both later.”
“I need your help with something.” Dani clasped her hands.
A laugh burst out of him. “No warm-up? Just straight to the punch? I already told you I don’t want to take out any tourists on charters.”
She held up a hand to stop him. “No. It’s nothing like that. You know about the revitalization project, right?”
“I was at the town hall meeting, yeah.” Cody pulled a stool out from under the bench and placed it in front of Dani before grabbing one for himself. “We may as well sit, and you can explain. Want a Coke?”
She shook her head and sat. “Okay, so you know that step one of our plan is to rebuild and reopen the hotel so we have a place for guests and seasonal workers to stay, right?”
Cody nodded. The work on the hotel had already begun. Everyone in town knew about that. He crossed his arms and leaned against the workbench, the metal cool through his T-shirt. A tang of engine oil hung in the air.
“Step two is all about opening the businesses themselves. You know how we have all these open storefronts on Main Street?” Dani’s gestures grew more expansive as she warmed to her topic. “Uncle Seb owns those, obviously, but as part of our revitalization plan, he’s willing to majorly lower the rent for the first several years to attract new owners.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Cody cocked his head. “But is that really enough to get people here?”
She shifted on her stool, leaned forward. “Not on its own, no. Recently I saw a Travel Channel documentary about a tiny town in Italy. After the pandemic, this town had all of these empty homes and offered to sell them for the equivalent of a dollar just to get people there.”
Oh. Wow. He sat up straight. “So, you’re going to do the same thing?”
“Basically. So many of the older homes behind Main Street were left abandoned over the last decade. People moved away and couldn’t pay their mortgages, so the town pretty much claimed ownership.”
“Right.” So many families had left over the years. Jonathon Island was still amazing, but to think about what it used to be…the comparison ached. “And those are the ones you’re going to offer for a dollar?”
“Yes, but not just to anyone. To business owners who apply—and are vetted and approved by the town council. We have fourteen available storefronts and at least that many empty homes. Here’s hoping we have a lot of applicants.” Dani chewed her bottom lip. “That’s the part I’m most worried about.” She stared up at the vaulted ceiling for a moment.
In the silence, Cody heard the ticking of the clock mounted on the far wall. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed. Finally, he cleared his throat. “So, what exactly are you wanting me to do?”
Dani’s smile flashed again as she looked at him. “I want to hire you to make sure the buildings and houses are move-in ready. We want people to be able to see how charming Jonathon Island really is.” She named the amount she’d been authorized to pay him. “Uncle Seb is chipping in a lot of the money, since he owns the buildings, but the town promised to put some up too. We’d like you to start right away.”
His shoulders relaxed and a grin spread across his face. “I think I can help with that.” He mentally reviewed the list of handyman projects he had going—not too many right now. He’d cleared his calendar when he’d bought the boat, hoping to be back on the water soon. Even this small salary would go a long way toward the parts he needed. And it would be more regular work than the odd jobs he’d been taking around town. “Just tell me which places we’re talking about.”
Dani hopped off her stool. “Thank you. Come by my office tomorrow and I can get you the list and a bunch of master keys.”
He could make that work. “I planned to check Mia’s lawnmower in the morning. It shouldn’t take long, so I can be there by ten or so.”
A strange look passed over Dani’s face. She opened her mouth then clapped it shut.
“What?” He pushed off his stool. Dani started walking for the door, and he went with her.
“It’s just that I think—never mind.” She waved a hand in the air. They rounded the boat. Straight ahead, a line of light shone through the gap in the bottom of the door leading out of the shed.
“At the risk of repeating myself, what?” He reached for the doorknob and twisted it open. The warmth of the May sunlight streaming in chased away the chill always present in the metal building.
Dani gave a little shrug. “I know it’s not the same without your third Musketeer, you and Mia and Troy were always inseparable, but I don’t think Troy would want you hiding away.”
“I’m not hiding away.” He gazed out toward the boardwalk running past his place, not really seeing it. “I’m keeping my head down. Working toward getting this business back.”
“I’m probably way out of line here, but maybe it’s time to ask her out.”
He whipped his gaze to her. “Ask who out?”
She speared him with a look. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”
Of course he did. But…“We’re just friends.” The words felt wrong in his mouth, but honestly, it didn’t matter how he felt about Mia. It mattered how she felt about him .
And the fact that Troy would always be between them. “Not gonna happen.”
Dani lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Okay, maybe I imagined it. But Mia could use someone like you in her corner.”
His heart squeezed. “I’m in her corner. I’ll always be in her corner. As a friend .”
“My mistake.” She waved as she walked into the sunlight. “See you tomorrow, Cody.”
After Dani left, Cody plugged in the sander fitted with a heavy grit paper and began attacking the peeling paint along the boat’s midsection. The rhythmic motions soothed his nerves. Dani knew Mia best. If she thought he was good enough for Mia then…Maybe…No. He couldn’t go there.
He popped his earbuds in, donned a pair of safety glasses, and tugged a mask over his nose and mouth. In his ears, the rap artist Flame sang about joy in Christ. Maybe if he listened long enough, some of the truth would sink into his heart.
He soon fell into a rhythm, the sander in his hand swishing across the surface of the boat until he could make out the fiberglass hull underneath. He needed to take off a layer of paint and all of the barnacles and other accumulated biofouling before he could hit the whole thing with a blast of primer. If everything went well, he could be putting the second coat of marine paint on by the end of the week.
After two feet more of the hull gleamed in the harsh light of the shop, he stepped back to admire his progress. Between all the interruptions, he’d finished four measly feet this afternoon. So much for his personal timeline. So much for this part of the project getting done anytime soon.
His smart watch buzzed with a text from his mom.
Mom
Can you stop by the house? Dad needs a hand clearing that branch that fell during the storm last week.
He unplugged the sander, gave the boat a hard stare, then pushed the safety glasses up onto his forehead.
This boat had waited a long time for this paint to be stripped. It wouldn’t hurt for it to wait another day.
Now that he had some guaranteed income, it wouldn’t be long before he’d be back on the water for good.
And maybe, just maybe, keep his last promise to Troy.