12. Linda #3
"I think so," Darius said with a supportive nod.
"I'm so glad," Gill said, her voice carrying a light, wistful tremor as her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
"Anna was always so brilliant, so incredibly loving during our university days, but there were always such heavy shadows lingering in her eyes.
It is beautiful to see those shadows finally gone, and to see her holding hands with the man she never truly stopped loving. "
Darius offered a gentle, understanding nod as they stepped up in front of the armchair. He felt a wave of gratitude for his cousin, realizing how much they had all risked to bring this family back together.
George lifted his head, his eyes crinkling with a genuine recognition the moment his gaze locked onto Gill's face. He sat up a fraction straighter, his fingers giving Anna’s hand a supportive squeeze.
"Hello, Gill. How are you?" George greeted, his voice raspy but steady, carrying a tenderness that seemed to fill the gap between them. "I was told you were in Sweet Blossom Bay."
"Hello, George. I’m so glad you’re home and recovering.” Gill's eyes assessed him before answering, “I'm well." She leaned down over his chair, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss against his weathered cheek before turning to greet Anna with the exact same affection.
"Hello, sweetheart," Anna greeted back, her eyes shining with silent tears as she reached up to wrap her arms around her old student in a brief, emotional embrace.
The two women clung to each other for a breathless second, the silent understanding of everything they had survived in Charleston passing between them without a single word. When they finally parted, Anna and George both turned their focus toward the tall man standing beside her.
"Hello, Baxter. How are you?" Anna asked him, her expression turning welcoming as her gaze softened.
"I'm very well, thank you, Dr. Caldwell," Baxter greeted her, his tone rich and polite. He stepped closer, taking her hand with an easy, old-world courtesy and gallantly kissing the back of it.
"Please, it’s Anna," Anna insisted, her cheeks coloring prettily under the glow of the twilight sky.
Darius stepped forward, resting a supportive hand on his cousin's shoulder as he looked down at his uncle. "George, this is my cousin I told you about."
George held out a hand, his grip steady and strong as his fingers closed around Baxter’s hand. He looked at the younger man for a long moment, his eyes shining with an immense, protective respect.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I owe you a massive debt of gratitude for what you did to save my home and legacy," George said, his voice dropping into a serious register that held zero corporate pretense.
"You and Gill must think of the hotel as your home.
You have a permanent place under our roof as part of our big extended family. "
Baxter paused, looking thoroughly taken aback as he stared at the older man, his fingers tightening in a handshake as his typical polished executive armor seemed to melt away.
A thick, rapid lump of emotion rose in his throat, and he swallowed hard, his dark eyes shining as he looked between George and Gill.
For so long he had been carrying the heavy, exhausting burden of his public disgrace, acting as a bumbling corporate outcast while secretly working in the shadows to protect the bay, and to have his efforts recognized so generously by the patriarch of the family was a beautiful, overwhelming payoff.
"I..." Baxter stammered, his voice slightly thick as he tried to find the words. "Why, thank you, Mr. Heart."
"We don’t stand on formalities here, young man. It’s George," George told him. "Besides, my father was the only one who went by our formal family name."
Baxter murmured his thanks with a respectful nod, his shoulders relaxing as he stepped back beside Gill, his hand finding hers once again to offer a silent, steady squeeze.
Darius watched the quiet exchange, his heart beating with a fast, hopeful rhythm. He felt a profound sense of fulfilment, realizing that the old, hostile barriers of their family past were finally being dismantled under the brilliant summer sky.
Before anyone could say anything else, a sharp, metallic ring of feedback from a microphone drew the crowd's attention toward the wooden makeshift stage on the deck.
Michael stepped up onto the platform, his broad shoulders squared and a nervous but radiant smile on his face.
The chatter across the deck and lawn began to quiet down, the local residents turning their heads to watch as the stage lights began to glow against the darkening twilight.
Darius felt Linda’s hand slide into the crook of his arm.
Her fingers locked securely through his to anchor them as the evening's celebratory announcements were about to begin.
He looked down at her beautiful face, with a lasting contentment settling over his shoulders as they stood together, and Darius knew without a shadow of doubt, he was home.