Chapter 3
Sunlight poured through the window as Grace stretched, enjoying the soft sheets and thick duvet on her king-sized bed, a far more luxurious sleeping situation than she’d anticipated.
After Isaiah Hawksworth had briefly shown them the house last night, she and Jacob had had a meal of soup and toast before heading straight to sleep.
Isaiah had told her she could familiarize herself with the nature reserve today, but he had assured her there was no rush, a consideration Grace certainly appreciated.
“We’re a laidback operation,” he’d told her with a smile.
“The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service requires us to hire a warden to oversee the reserve, and obviously we want to be good stewards of the land, but it pretty much takes care of itself most of the time. I’ve left a list of your duties on the table, but for now take a day or two to settle in and explore. Get used to the place.”
Grace had been glad to hear that, because while she had a degree in marine biology and had completed a summer fellowship in marine conservation at Woods Hole back when she’d, ever so briefly, been a graduate student, she didn’t feel particularly equipped for the role she’d taken on, although she hoped to meet the challenges she faced, whatever they were.
At least Isaiah seemed confident she’d be able to handle them.
As for today, though… she and Jacob were going to enjoy this escape from what their reality had become and explore.
She rolled up to a seated position, blinking in the bright sunlight and the view of the ocean, sparkling under the morning sun and framed by gauzy white curtains blowing in the breeze.
She’d cracked the window last night for some air, and the duvet had certainly kept her toasty.
Now she drank in the view as well as the fresh breeze.
Grace scooted from the bed and went to the window, resting her hands on the sill as she breathed in the briny air.
The warden’s lodge was nestled on a hillside, with a steep drop down to a tiny slice of silvery beach, and then the ocean, now placid after last night’s storm, stretched on seemingly forever, sparkling as if it had been strewn with diamonds.
Diamonds. Grace glanced down at the wedding ring that still rested heavily on her fourth finger.
She’d taken off her engagement ring, with the solitaire diamond that came down nearly to her knuckle, when she’d left Brad six months ago.
Brad had bought it to show it—and her—off to everyone he thought mattered, as he had with so many things.
She’d never liked wearing it, had found it too heavy as well as too ostentatious, but it had taken her well over a decade to realize that.
Now she considered, far from the first time, taking her wedding ring off.
She’d even contemplated throwing both it and her engagement ring into the sea, although considering her engagement ring was worth tens of thousands of dollars, that probably wasn’t the wisest move, although as a symbolic gesture Grace suspected it would feel very satisfying.
She hadn’t taken her wedding ring off, though, because she didn’t want to upset Jacob.
He was alert to every change in their circumstances, every infinitesimal mood shift or swing, and she had no idea how he felt about her and Brad’s divorce.
Part of her thought he would be relieved, but then she reflected that, no matter how Brad had treated her, he’d been loving and affectionate toward their son, at least when he could be bothered to notice him at all.
He’d taken the news that Grace and Jacob would be moving to Maine with a sneering sort of indifference, which had disappointed her for their son’s sake, although certainly not her own.
With a sigh, she dropped her hands from the sill and reached for a hoodie to put over her pajamas. Made of cashmere and a designer brand, it was like everything else she owned. Expensive, over-priced, and ridiculous. She really needed to get some new, more appropriate clothes.
Out in the hallway, she paused in front of Jacob’s bedroom and peeked in, glad to see he was still sleeping, the duvet drawn right up to his chin so all she could see was his dark, tousled head on the pillow.
Next to Jacob’s room was a third bedroom, to be used for guests she knew she wouldn’t have, and across the hall was a bathroom with a deep, claw-footed tub, a walk-in shower, and a double sink.
Grace had not expected the warden’s lodge to be so comfortable, if not downright luxurious, and it had been a happy surprise indeed last night to realize how well thought-out it all was.
Isaiah Hawksworth had explained since it was the only remuneration offered for the position, the Lawrences had wanted to make sure it was well appointed, and Grace had to say, it certainly was.
Last night, she’d considered asking Isaiah about the mysterious Lawrences—where did they live, and did they ever even come to this island?
It was, it had to be said, far from anywhere.
But the way both Ned and Isaiah spoke about the family had been in something of a hush, like a secret that was kept but never mentioned.
It seemed odd, but it was a mystery Grace decided she didn’t need to solve, and so she’d let it go.
Now she went downstairs to explore the rest of the house more thoroughly—a cozy living room decorated in shades of cream and blue, with a large stone fireplace taking pride of place, and a wicker basket of logs and kindling lying neatly next to it.
Isaiah had told her there was a fully stocked woodshed outside, as well.
Two sofas in navy chenille made an L-shape in front of it, the perfect place to enjoy the cheery blaze when she got one going.
And why not right now? Grace thought suddenly.
The morning was bright but chilly, and today finally felt like the start of the rest of her life.
She’d spent far too long already wondering and waiting, dithering and delaying, all out of fear.
She was ready to stop letting regret paralyze her and start living…
even if it was only over something as simple as making a fire.
She’d just gotten a humble blaze going—it had been harder than she’d thought—when Jacob came downstairs, sporting an adorable case of bedhead as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and looked around curiously.
“Hey there, buddy.” Grace straightened, giving him a quick, warm smile.
“Did you sleep okay?” He nodded once, as solemn-eyed and silent as ever, and Grace widened her smile.
“Great. Why don’t you curl up on the sofa, and I’ll get you some hot chocolate?
” His eyes widened and she laughed and nodded.
“Special treat, okay? Since we just arrived.”
Jacob scrambled up on the sofa while Grace took a cozy throw in soft cream wool and tucked it around him. Then she went into the kitchen to make them both hot chocolate. It felt like that kind of day.
Just as Ned had predicted, Isaiah had stocked the kitchen with plenty of food, and Grace didn’t think she’d need to shop for at least a week.
There were the usual grocery staples in the cupboards and fridge, as well as a stack of ready-made meals in a chest freezer in the little pantry, a whole bowl of fresh fruit, freshly ground coffee and loose-leaf tea, a few bottles of what looked like very nice wine, and plenty of other treats besides.
Looking at it all, Grace felt both touched and spoiled.
This job might not come with a salary, but it certainly had some decent and much appreciated perks.
As she warmed milk for their hot chocolate, Grace acknowledged that for the first time in forever, she felt not just hopeful, but a little bit excited.
That little lift inside she’d been longing for was actually happening.
It was, she decided as she spooned cocoa powder and sugar—Isaiah really had thought of everything—into the milk, a very nice feeling.
While stirring the milk, Grace glanced through the folder of laminated pages that Isaiah had left on the kitchen table, with instructions about the house as well as her position.
The nature reserve had its own office, a little farther down the road, but she was welcome to work from home if she preferred, which would, she suspected, suit Jacob better, although she certainly intended to check out the office.
Every day she was meant to walk the property, checking that there was no evidence of illegal activities such as poaching or fishing, no animals present that were injured or in distress, no broken branches or other difficulties, and making sure various nesting boxes and feeders were in good repair.
The island was home to a few rare species—the Eastern Ribbon snake, the Juniper Hairstreak butterfly, and the Northern Bog lemming—and she was to make sure their habitats were undisturbed.
She was also to answer any emails the reserve received, although apparently there were very few, and, that, it seemed, was the entire extent of her job.
It was both a relief and the tiniest bit disappointing.
After twelve years of being nothing more than an ornament for her husband’s arm, Grace realized she’d been looking forward to sinking her teeth into something.
Not much, admittedly, but maybe more than what sounded like a stroll a day and a couple of emails.
She had read online that much of Maine’s protected area was simply that—protected, rather than maintained or developed.
She understood why her job was what it was, and yet she still hoped it might be something that could grow.
Maybe she could find ways to expand its scope, offer opportunities and initiatives to locals as well as tourists…
She let her mind wander hazily for a few moments before she brought it back to the present. She had a little boy who was waiting for his hot chocolate, and a day to fill with exploring their new home.
Smiling, Grace poured the hot chocolate into mugs and headed back into the living room—and the rest of her life.