Chapter 3
Three
Cretia slapped the old picture to her leg, away from Finn’s prying gaze. Though his eyes looked more remorseful than curious at the moment.
“I’m sorry. I was just...” He waved a hand toward her wilted backpack and a small pile of her things. Including a once-fresh pair of underwear.
Her cheeks flamed, and she scooped up the mess from the floor, hugging them against the sweatshirt Marie had loaned her.
“I didn’t want to miss any electronics.” With the toe of his brown boot, he pushed a red plastic bucket across the floor. It was half-filled with white rice. Just as she’d asked.
Through gritted teeth, she managed, “Thank you.”
“I’m not sure it’s going to help, though.” He frowned at the bucket, and she hated that he was probably right.
A lot of experts no longer recommended rice for rescuing waterlogged electronics. But it was the only thing she’d been able to think of after her own dunking. Her laptop was almost certainly a lost cause. And even if her phone lived up to its water-resilient promises, she’d seen the cracked screen. She’d tried to get it to turn on as Finn carried her to the inn, but there had been nothing but a few limp flickers.
Everything that her warm shower and fresh—albeit snug—clothes had done to restore her humanity disappeared. The sure knowledge that she had lost everything replaced whatever hope she’d managed to drum up beneath that fabulous rain showerhead.
A jagged sigh fought its way out, and she opened one eye to stare at both her rescuer and the bearer of bitter news.
Finn was larger than she’d realized. Though she shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d picked her up like she was nothing—like he hadn’t even noticed the roundness of her hips and thighs that online trolls loved to comment on. His shoulders stretched his white T-shirt as he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Behind his light brown beard, he probably had a baby face, and she had no guess at his age. The only thing she was certain of was the compassion in his brilliant blue eyes.
“I really am sorry about all of this.” His voice rumbled, and she hugged her scant belongings even tighter.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she looked right into his face and gave him only the tiniest nod.
“I’m warming up some chicken noodle soup,” Marie called from the kitchen. “You’ll stay, Finn.”
He didn’t look away but responded to Marie as though she’d asked a question. She hadn’t. “Thank you. But I can’t stay long. Joe Jr. will be hungry soon, and I need to check on the kids.”
Cretia blinked, and it was enough to jerk herself out of the trance of Finn’s gaze. His left hand was still hidden in his back pocket, and she tried to remember if he’d been wearing a ring. He could still be married even if he didn’t have one.
Not that it mattered. She would be on the island for just one more day. And then she’d never see Finn Chaffey again. Just like every other man she’d crossed paths with over the last four years, except for the occasional meetups with other digital content creators.
“I guess he’s earned a treat today. He did save Cretia, after all.” Marie’s voice carried a hint of a chuckle.
Behind his bushy beard, the corners of Finn’s mouth ticked up. “Silly dog,” he said just for the two of them in the mudroom. “He was bound to do something right eventually.”
Cretia sucked in a quick breath, something deep in her stomach tugging her toward Finn. She took an inadvertent step on her sore foot and stumbled toward him.
Catching her elbow to keep her upright, he nodded toward the kitchen. “Let’s get you some ice for your ankle.”
She nodded and led the way, refusing to let him see her wince with each step. When she was all settled at the island counter, her foot resting on another stool and a pack of frozen peas cradling her ankle, Marie set a beautiful bowl in front of her, the pottery painted in a swirling glaze to match the island’s signature reds and greens.
“The inn isn’t open yet for the season, so the food options are limited to what I can get my kiddos to eat. And what I can cook.” Marie smiled at Finn as she set a bowl down in front of him too. “Do either of you want a grilled cheese?”
Cretia shook her head, but Finn perked up. “Got cheese from Mama Cheese Sandwich’s shop?”
The spoon almost to her mouth, Cretia burst out with a laugh, nearly spraying chicken noodle soup across the white-tiled countertop and beyond. She covered her mouth before making a mess of the otherwise spotless kitchen.
“Caden wouldn’t let me bring any other cheese into this house.” Marie winked at Finn. “Coming right up.”
Even if it hadn’t been part of her job to find the hidden treasures and quirky bits of the places she visited, she would have asked about that name. “I’m sorry ... Mama Cheese Sandwich?”
With one eyebrow raised, Finn looked up from slurping a spoonful of his own soup. “Yeah. Mama Cheese Sandwich.”
“Is that ... a thing? I mean, like, a store or a place or a ... person?”
Marie chuckled as she set to work buttering two thick slices of bread. “Yes, Mama Cheese Sandwich is a person. Her son Justin owns Kane Dairy.”
That did not answer all of her questions, but as Finn dove into his soup, Cretia took a careful sip of hers. Warmth spread down her throat and through her chest. When it reached her stomach, she suddenly realized just how empty she’d been. She’d meant to stop for something after the boardwalk, and that had been hours ago. Now she couldn’t seem to scoop up the savory chicken and broth fast enough.
“You sure you don’t want a sandwich?” Marie asked with a sharp look at her almost empty bowl.
“Um...”
“Yes. She wants a sandwich,” Finn said, his gaze pointed. “That’s the only right answer to a question like that.”
“Oh, really?”
He shoved his giant spoon into his mouth. “Trust me on this.”
Trust him? She barely knew his name. And that he had kids. And that he had a dog the size of a boat.
And eyes that could put her in a trance.
All of those things did not add up to trust.
But her stomach did not need any such assurance. It growled loudly, and she chuckled. “That does sound good, actually.”
“One more grilled cheese coming up.” At the stove, Marie flipped Finn’s sandwich before buttering two more pieces of bread.
“And the cheese is from someone whose son owns a dairy?” Cretia ventured again.
Still at the stove, Marie had her back turned to them, her shoulders bouncing in time with her chuckle. “Kathleen Kane—Mama Kane to most of the folks in the area. Her husband owned the dairy, and she made the best cheese sandwiches. Gave them out to kids playing with her son or anyone who was hungry, really. About thirty years ago, a little girl named Natalie accidentally called her Mama Cheese Sandwich. I guess it stuck.”
That made sense. Kind of. Cretia had seen plenty of wild usernames on social media, but this was different. She had a sudden urge to meet the woman who let everyone call her by such an unusual name. If only she had time.
“And you grew up here? With Justin and Natalie?” Cretia asked.
“Oh, no.” Marie shook her head as she delivered Finn’s sandwich. He had half of it in his mouth before she could continue. “I moved here about twelve years ago and helped get this inn started. What about you? What brings you to the island, Cretia? Are you traveling alone?”
She should have anticipated the question but still nearly choked on her response. “I’m a digital content creator.”
Finn peered at her over the last bite of his sandwich, his eyebrows pinched together. “A what?”
Cretia shrugged like she’d just said she was a nurse or teacher or had any other regular job. “I travel around the world and create video content about the interesting places I go. I recommend some lesser-known destinations and tips for making the most of vacations and how to travel on a budget. I’m a travel vlogger.”
“And people ... pay you to do that?” Finn asked.
“Um ... sort of.” She took a deep breath through her nose to keep herself in check.
“Sort of? How do you sort of get paid?”
Her cheek twitched as she tried to keep her tone even and pleasant. “I have sponsors and followers and subscribers.”
“But what are they paying for?”
Marie swept toward them, a second plated sandwich in hand. “Leave her be, Finn. Just because you don’t understand what she does doesn’t make it less valid.”
Finn scowled—at least Cretia thought that’s what was happening behind his whiskers. “I just don’t understand. How do you make a living doing nothing?”
Her blood went from a simmer to a boil in an instant, heating her skin from head to toe. “Nothing? You think I do nothing?”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Finn stumbled over the bite in his mouth, crunching on the bread.
Marie thumped him on the shoulder. “Put a sock in it, Finn. You’ve already got your foot halfway down your throat. You barely have room for your sandwich.”
He grimaced. “Sorry. I just...” Confusion still covered his face as Marie gave him another sisterly smack.
Explaining how someone could make a living by posting videos online was never easy, especially to the technologically averse or the ones who questioned everything. And Finn struck her as both.
She wasn’t uber wealthy or anything, but she had a healthy nest egg. And everything else went toward new adventures and more content. She had no other bills, no other responsibilities.
Besides, her finances weren’t any of his business. She wasn’t asking him—or anyone else—for help.
Except for when she’d taken a swim in the harbor that morning. But he’d already admitted that fiasco was more than a little bit his own fault.
She didn’t need his charity. Or Marie Sloan’s, for that matter.
“Thank you very much for lunch. How much do I owe you?” Cretia reached for her phone but found her pocket empty. “I can ... I’ll send you some money as soon as I’m back online.”
“Don’t be silly.” Marie’s words sounded like a song, the notes sweet and airy. “You don’t owe me anything. It was just lunch.”
She’d heard that a few times from pub owners in Ireland. And once from a man in Oregon who thought a free meal had earned him some other favors. He’d gotten himself a knee to his sensitive bits for that.
After so many years alone on the road, Cretia had learned how to read people. Fast. Marie posed no threat. And Finn wasn’t dangerous, just a little clueless. And apparently rude. Though she couldn’t forget his earlier compassion.
But that didn’t mean she needed to stick around.
Pressing her lips into a thin line, she lowered her foot to the ground. Her stool scraped as she pushed back, her ankle only giving a little twinge to remind her of the mishap. “I think I better go. But thank you again. I’ll send you some money for lunch as soon as I can.”
Marie shot a glance at Finn before rushing around the island. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. And your things. You don’t have—”
“I’ll figure it out.” She took a step toward the mudroom to retrieve the extent of her belongings. Diminished though they were.
“Your shoes are soaking wet, and your clothes are still in the washing machine.”
“I ... um...” Cretia glanced down and plucked at the sweatshirt covering her. She couldn’t very well walk out of the inn in another woman’s clothes. Especially when she would probably never be back. “I’ll mail these to you?”
Marie’s eyes filled with worry, and she glanced at Finn, signaling him with a nod.
He jumped to his feet so quickly that he sent his own stool clattering to the ground as he finished the last slurp of his soup. Holding up one hand, he scooped up his overturned seat, then slid in front of her. “Please, wait. I’m sorry. I swear that my mom taught me some manners. I spend all day with dogs and other animals, and I sometimes forget.”
“Dogs?”
As if on cue, the dog barked from the yard, and Finn smiled. “Joe Jr. and a bunch more.”
She’d heard Finn call the dog that after he rescued her. And the name plucked at an old memory she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe the dog’s dad had been named Joe, and his name was as simple as that. Still, she couldn’t help but ask for clarification. “Joe Jr. ?”
Finn nodded slowly. “He’s ... Have you ever seen While You Were Sleeping ?”
That was where she knew the name from. It had been one of her mom’s favorite movies, and they’d watched it over and over when she was a kid.
“Like the character in the movie, my dog is just a little bit of a doofus. My mom decided it fit.”
Cretia’s concern must have shown on her face because Finn immediately waved his hands and tried to clarify his words. “He’s well-intentioned. Very sweet. But just a little bit ... off.”
She didn’t know what that meant exactly—or if she should be offended that Finn had sent his not-quite-all-there dog to rescue her. “Compared to what?”
“To the other Newfoundlands I breed.”
“All right...” She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with that information. Knowing there were more bears around town wasn’t exactly adding to North Rustico’s appeal. Especially if they had their breeder’s temperament.
Cretia shook her head to clear it, then glanced around Finn at the bucket in the mudroom. Even her passport looked like it could use a rest. Her laptop and tablet had probably succumbed to the same fate as her phone—damaged beyond repair. All of them would have to be replaced.
Thank goodness her content automatically saved to the cloud, and she had videos scheduled every day for a couple weeks.
Squaring her shoulders, she managed a loose smile for Finn. “I appreciate your apology, but I just need to get to an Apple store. And then I have a ticket to Iceland.”
Finn’s eyebrows bunched together. “The only apple store on the island is connected to an orchard.”
“Excuse me?”
Marie slid into her peripheral vision and pressed a warm hand to her shoulder. “It sells apples grown on trees—not electronics.”
“You’re telling me there’s nowhere on the island I can replace my things?”
Marie shook her head slowly. “You might be able to get something at a box store, but they don’t carry large supplies. Usually they have to order what you want. Especially if it’s a high-end item.”
Cretia swallowed hard against a suddenly dry mouth. All of her information was accessible—so long as she had some sort of device. Without one, she had no record of her plane tickets. No reservation number at her hotel, whose name she couldn’t even remember. And no way to navigate the island, let alone get off of it.
A rope around her lungs pulled tight, and she gasped for breath.
She’d been in some sticky situations, even had her backpack and the laptop within it stolen once. But she’d never felt quite so helpless before. She’d always had something—usually her phone. Her most important tool. Her lifeline.
Without it, she was stranded. In a foreign country.
When she’d been robbed before, she’d gone to the US embassy. They’d managed to get her a new passport. Yes, there had been enough bureaucratic red tape to cover a house. But at the end of the day, she’d had her passport shortly after the local police were able to retrieve her electronics. She’d never been more thankful for the Find My Device feature.
This time, she knew where her things were.
On a mudroom floor.
In a bucket.
Covered in rice.
And highly unlikely to ever function again.
Cretia cleared her throat. “Do you know where the local US embassy is?”
Finn and Marie made eye contact, a knowing look passing between them.
“The embassy?” Marie said after a long silence. “It’s probably in Ottawa.”
Cretia let out a heavy breath. She hadn’t gotten an A+ in geography, but she knew Ottawa wasn’t on PEI—and Canada was huge. She wasn’t bebopping across Europe right now.
“But there’s a US consulate in Halifax.” Marie’s words rose in tone and hope. “That’s where I went to begin my paperwork when I decided to stay on the island.”
“Halifax?”
“Nova Scotia,” Finn supplied with a small shrug.
“How far away is it?”
“About a four-hour drive.” Marie frowned. “Each way.”
And in a completely different province. Cretia hadn’t rented her car to leave PEI. She’d barely rented it for another day.
She was completely on her own.
Stranded.
Suddenly she felt like she might be sick, her stomach twisting painfully on the once delicious grilled cheese. Her hands began to shake, and the throbbing in her ankle found its way to her temples, each beat of her heart pounding another nail into her skull.
When she swayed, a large hand—a familiar one—cupped her elbow, and Finn slipped to her side. “Hey, it’s gonna be all right. We’ll figure it out.”
Easy for you to say.
Maybe her facial features betrayed the direction of her thoughts because Marie swooped in with her own promise. “So, here’s the thing. I owe Finn here a favor for letting my toddler terrorize his animals.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” he said with barely a glance up. “I wouldn’t let anyone—even Jessie— terrorize those animals.”
Marie raised her eyebrows in a knowing motion that all mothers seem to have mastered.
Finn ducked his chin and mumbled, “She might have pulled on a few tails and chased a couple puppies. But they were bigger than her. I’m certain they were not traumatized.”
With a quick roll of her eyes, Marie turned back to her. “Regardless of the emotional trauma inflicted, I owe Finn a favor. And it would seem Finn owes you much more than that.”
No one even raised an eyebrow.
“So, how about you stay in one of my guest rooms until we can get this all sorted out?”
“I couldn’t—” Cretia began, but Marie interrupted her with a tone that brooked no argument.
“You’re in no shape to drive to Charlottetown today—or to make decisions about tomorrow. Once your clothes are clean and you’ve had a good night of sleep, it’ll all be manageable.”
Surprisingly, Cretia had a feeling Marie might be right.