Chapter 17
Logan
When he woke up Thursday morning, Logan remembered the previous night. Everything about Heron Isle had been a mistake. Taking the job. Offering to help Lucy. Talking to Mildred without Marty. All of it.
He’d been so dejected after the community meeting, he hadn’t even visited the Little Free Library to leave Island Girl the book he’d meant to give her earlier in the week. She might be the only person left in town who still liked him. Unless, of course, she’d been at the meeting.
The only way to get over a bad meeting was to win the next one, so he’d skipped his morning run and gone straight into work. After reviewing financial data for the whiteboard suggestions for over three hours without a break, he finally went outside for a walk to clear his head. Pacing on the docks, he pulled out his phone. His sister answered before he’d registered that he’d hit her speed-dial button.
“Two calls in a week. What is that island doing to you?”
“Don’t you ever just say hello?” Logan asked.
“Hello, my darling brother. How are you doing? Why are you calling me? Again.”
“Didn’t you complain that I don’t call you enough? Here I am. Calling you.” The real reason was that he couldn’t bear to be alone with his thoughts any longer. “Did you talk to Nick?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was muffled as she yelled something at one of the kids. “He can’t get any time off, but I think the kids and I will take you up on a visit. I can tell I need to come down there and see what’s going on for myself.”
He smiled for the first time all day. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed seeing his sister. “That’s great. Just tell me when and I’ll book your tickets.”
“Is this weekend too soon? Aidan has swim camp after that, and then we’re watching Nick’s sister’s kids while she and her husband go away for their anniversary.”
He should spend the weekend preparing for the next community forum, but he’d just have to work harder this week so he could take the weekend off.
“No, that’s perfect. I’ll get it booked when I get back to my office.” A pelican glided gracefully over the water in front of him, swooping up just before the docks to sit on top of a piling. Maybe he’d bring the kids down to the docks to feed the pelicans. He’d watched the fishermen do it when they came in for the afternoons and had bait to spare.
“Tell me what’s really going on.” Carly broke into his thoughts. “I can hear it in your voice. Did your community forum not go well?”
He let out a laugh. “No, it did not go well at all. Lucy and I had a little misunderstanding, and by the end of the meeting she had the whole town ready to pull out the pitchforks.”
“Hmm, too soon to be having a lover’s quarrel. Can you patch it up?”
He let out a hearty laugh. “I can assure you it’s not like that. In fact, she dug up a bunch of articles on Catherine and me, and accused me of using women everywhere I go to get the job done.”
He could hear his sister suck in air through her teeth. “Yikes. That’s harsh.”
“And completely untrue. You know that.” He shoved his free hand in his pocket as he paced the docks.
“Did you tell her that?”
“I tried.”
“Aaannd?” Carly asked.
“I don’t think she cared. She’s made up her mind about me.”
“Why do you care so much what this one woman thinks? It’s not like she has the only vote on the matter. I’m sure you’ve convinced tougher critics than a small-town bookstore owner.” When he didn’t immediately reply, Carly continued. “Or… is this not really about the project and more about the girl? I knew you had a thing for her!”
“I do not. This is strictly about business.” He stopped pacing, dropping onto a bench and dragging his hand through his now sweaty hair. It had to be over ninety degrees today.
“Would it be so bad if you did have a thing for her? Honestly, I think you need a dating cleanse after that whole fiasco with she-who-shall-not-be-named. I’m not saying you have to find someone to marry, maybe just someone to grab coffee with. I worry that you don’t stay anywhere long enough to make friends.”
“Who needs friends when you have the best sister in the world?” He smiled knowing she was no doubt rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. “Plus, if I get this job in Boston, I’ll have Fuller.”
“You never see either one of us,” she countered. “I worry about you just sitting around at night brooding and probably drinking too much scotch.”
He hesitated, debating whether to tell Carly about Island Girl.
“I haven’t been brooding. I’ve actually been doing a lot of reading lately. They have this Little Free Library here. I’ll show you when you come down this weekend. People leave notes with the books, recommending them.”
“Cute,” she said. “But sitting at home alone reading a book wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m talking about making personal connections.”
He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the increasingly personal connection he was forming with Island Girl.
“Well, I have sort of connected with someone. We’ve been leaving books for each other.” He wiped the sweat from his brow, the sun suddenly feeling like one of those interrogation lamps they shine on criminals on TV shows.
“Now we’re talking! What’s she like? Is she cute?”
He knew it was dangerous telling her. She watched way too many Hallmark movies, and he didn’t want her getting any romantic ideas.
“I haven’t actually met her. People sign the notes with monikers. We’re more like pen pals.” Logan proceeded to tell his sister everything about Island Girl and the books and notes they’d left for each other.
“Omigosh, I wish I was there now!” He hadn’t heard his sister this excited since she’d called the last time she was pregnant to tell him it was a girl. “It’s like You’ve Got Mail. Wait! The bookstore owner! What if it’s her?” She was practically shrieking in his ear.
“No. It’s not Lucy. I’ve seen what she reads, and she recommended a completely different kind of book than what Island Girl has been leaving me. Besides, they don’t really seem much alike to me, and I think Island Girl is married.”
“Well, I’ll be there soon, and you can show me all the letters and we’ll figure out who she is.” Carly sounded as excited as a kid counting down the days to Christmas. “Ooh, I can’t wait! This is going to be so much fun!”
Logan had to admit her enthusiasm was rubbing off. Maybe he would try to figure out who Island Girl was, just to thank her for all the book suggestions and for helping him pass the time on Heron Isle outside of work. After all, corresponding with her was the only thing he hadn’t screwed up since arriving.
After a productive afternoon, Logan decided to call it a day earlier than usual and make up the morning run he’d missed. Running always cleared his head, and he needed to wipe Lucy’s disappointed look out of his mind if he was going to make any progress at the next community meeting. He just couldn’t stop seeing the hurt in her brown eyes when she’d insinuated that he’d only been using her to accomplish his goals. He thought they’d moved past that, but it seemed he still hadn’t managed to outrun the San Diego nightmare.
The beach was much quieter here than it had been in California on his daily runs, especially later in the day. It was that time between afternoon and evening when families returned to their houses and condos to clean up and get ready for dinner. He could count on one hand the number of people he’d passed since he left his cottage, the seagulls circling overhead far outnumbering the humans. The waves crashing on the shore were punctuated here and there by the cry of a gull, but the only other sound was the pounding of his feet on the sand and his steady, even breaths. Whoever said you couldn’t outrun your problems had clearly never tried actually running.
As Logan ran around a sandcastle long since abandoned by its maker, he thought about how much he was looking forward to seeing Carly and the kids. Some familiar, smiling faces were just what he needed. Carly had been right about his lack of human connection these days. Maybe it was this lack that was hindering his progress here. Although he’d thought he’d made inroads with Lucy, only to have her so easily turn on him again.
Lucy. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Lucy? Carly was right; Lucy wasn’t the sole deciding vote in this town. Heck, she didn’t have a vote at all, only the commissioners did. Why did he care so much about what she thought?
Frustrated that work had crept into his thoughts again, he decided to turn around at the marina, which he was nearing. A few charter-boat captains were unloading their gear, their customers having already left for the day. People walked along the sidewalk licking ice-cream cones and stopping to take selfies with the beach as their backdrop.
And then he saw her. Lucy was sitting on a bench in a white summer dress, its edges lifting lightly on the breeze. Her face was covered by large sunglasses, but her head was moving as if she was scanning the people on the sidewalk watching for someone.
Logan slowed to a jog, studying her as he grew closer. She seemed on edge, her posture unnaturally straight, her foot bouncing on the ground. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was an anxious secret agent waiting for a hand off.
Then she turned to look in his direction and froze, her foot no longer tapping. An awkward moment passed, and he didn’t know what to do but wave, raising his hand in acknowledgment that he’d seen her too.
Instead of waving back, she turned to look in the other direction as if she hadn’t seen him. Now she was just being childish. She couldn’t even acknowledge his existence and be cordial? He was tired of being cast as the villain. He hadn’t had time to properly defend himself last night, but he had all the time in the world right now.
“Lucy. Fancy meeting you here,” he said as he approached.
She shoved a book in her bag like she might pack up and flee. She looked at him and frowned, then glanced over her shoulder as if someone might swoop in and save her at any moment.
“Hello, Logan.”
He pointed to the green box sitting beside her, the same kind he’d seen people carrying all over town and had learned was the signature box from Nana’s Bakery, a local institution.
“Let me guess. You seem like a lemon square kind of gal. Or maybe vanilla cupcakes with sprinkles? I’m a chocolate chip cookie guy myself.” He’d been to the bakery twice in the past week for Nana Theresa’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, which was why he couldn’t skip his daily run.
She scooted the box closer to her as if protecting it before answering in a voice so low he could barely hear it over the soundtrack of the ocean and seagulls behind him.
“Chocolate chip cookies.”
“See, we can agree on something!” He flashed her his best smile.
The sour look on her face remained unchanged. “What do you want?” She crossed her arms, looking back down the sidewalk.
“If you didn’t constantly jump to conclusions about me and my intentions, you might find we have a lot in common.” He started counting things off on his fingers. “We both grew up in small towns. We both love historic buildings. And apparently neither of us can resist Nana Theresa’s chocolate chip cookies.”
“Yes, well, apparently the similarities end there. I don’t try to pit husbands and wives against each other or tear up other people’s towns and then leave them to deal with the consequences.”
He could feel her stare from behind the large sunglasses, even if he couldn’t see her eyes. She wasn’t going to make this easy.
“Can I sit?” He gestured toward the empty expanse of bench next to her, its brown wood weathered to the point that it looked more like driftwood. He made a mental note to add new Polywood benches to his plans.
She protectively placed a hand over the spot next to the box. “You may not. I’m expecting someone.”
Undeterred and unwilling to let either of them continue festering in their confrontation from the evening before, he said, “I’ll just sit with you while you wait.”
She scooted down the bench as far away from him as she could, angling her body toward downtown so she could watch for whoever was coming.
“Who are you waiting for? Pam? Pete?”
She turned to scowl at him, that deep wrinkle forming between her eyes. “None of your business.”
A man with a small tote bag began walking down the sidewalk in their direction, and she straightened up, sitting taller.
“Please leave,” she hissed. “Haven’t you done enough damage for one week?”
The man veered away from the benches and walked down into the sand in front of them, pulling a towel from his bag and putting in headphones. Logan could feel Lucy deflate next to him as she sighed. Who was she waiting for? A date perhaps? She seemed too nervous—and now that he really looked at her, more made up than usual—to just be meeting a friend. Was she dating someone? He’d never seen her around town with anyone, so he’d just assumed she was single. What kind of guy would she get all dressed up for and bring cookies? Maybe they were his favorite too. Whoever he was.
Logan batted away thoughts that were beginning to border on jealousy to focus on the task at hand. He’d have to break some confidences, but since there didn’t seem to be much that stayed secret on Heron Isle for long, he decided to take his chances before Mr. Lucky arrived.
“Just so you know, Mildred came to me. She wants to spend more time with their daughter and their new grandchild. She asked if I could come up with a number high enough to convince Marty to let the restaurant go. They’re both exhausted, and she wants to retire. She was going to tell him as soon as I had a final number.”
Lucy’s expression softened, although she still looked skeptical. “Didn’t you tell me it was all confidential?”
He shrugged. “It is, but I trust you.” And he did. She might not like him much right now, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was just protective of her island. It was kind of sweet how much she loved it, how hard she’d fight for it, even if it meant fighting with him.
She looked out at the ocean, as if trying to decide whether she believed him. He followed her gaze, watching a pelican as it dive-bombed the water’s glossy surface, and then flapped its wings to take itself airborne again. A slight breeze floated on the salty air, and it made her hair dance around her face and over her shoulders. He had the strongest urge to reach out and tuck a strand behind her ear, but forced his eyes back out to the sea.
She looked at her watch and then down the sidewalk toward town, a worried look creasing her forehead.
“Your friend late?”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip and started to bounce her leg again. “You don’t have to stay and”—she searched for the word she wanted to use—“entertain me. He’ll be here soon.”
“Oh, so it is a he.” Logan kept his tone light, teasing her like he used to tease Carly about her dates in high school.
“Yes.” Her tone indicated that the answer wasn’t simple. “I think so.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s hard to explain.” Her shoulders drooped as she slumped back against the bench.
She looked like the wounded fawn he and Carly had found in the back pasture as kids. They’d patiently tip-toed their way toward it with a bowl of water. He didn’t want to spook Lucy, but he so badly wanted to wipe the pained look off her pretty face.
“Try me.” He angled toward her, putting an arm on the back of the bench, his fingertips almost reaching her shoulder.
She studied his face, started to open her mouth, but then snapped it closed.
“Blind date? Someone set you up?”
“Sort of. Something like that.” She looked around as if embarrassed to have anyone else overhear their conversation.
“And you said you’d meet him here on the benches?”
She nodded. “But I guess he’s not going to show.”
“Maybe something came up.”
“Or he took one look at me and ran.” Her voice was quiet, sad. She pushed up her sunglasses, as if she could hide more of herself behind their oversized shades.
It was completely impossible. No one could see the woman sitting here, looking as if she belonged on a swing in a Renoir painting, and not count his lucky stars. He looked out at the water to keep from making her uncomfortable before he spoke.
“No, I’m sure that’s not it. He must have a good reason.”
“It was silly anyway. He’s probably just passing through like everyone else.”
He could hear the hurt in her voice, and he thought of what the mayor had told him about her mother leaving. A long silence followed as they both gazed toward the horizon. He could only think of one thing to show he could relate.
“Remember how I told you that the newspapers didn’t tell the whole story about what happened to me in San Diego?”
She turned to meet his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, my side of the story is that I thought I’d met the perfect woman for me. I’d even bought a ring. I was waiting until we could celebrate the new project getting a green light before I asked her because I hadn’t had a lot of time to spend with her as we went through the final phase of government approvals.”
He paused, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone except Carly what had happened next.
“Then I came home one night to find Catherine in bed with another man.”
Lucy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it.
“This particular man happened to be the son of her father’s arch nemesis. Your basic Romeo and Juliet plot, I guess. Except Catherine had worked out exactly how she could get her father to accept Joe. She’d made sure I would catch them together and be the one to break up with her. Then she ran to her father, playing the victim. She somehow convinced him that I’d driven her to Joe because I didn’t pay her enough attention.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I still don’t understand the mental gymnastics she went through to pull it off. All I know is that in the end her father blamed me for her being with Joe. And, well, you know the rest.”
Lucy was quiet. He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he watched the ocean instead of her face.
She surprised him when she broke the silence. “I was engaged once. Did I ever tell you that?”
He turned back to look at her, but now she was the one staring out at the water.
“No.” He didn’t feel right pressing her for more.
“Yeah. He was assigned here for work for a few years, but after we got engaged, he got a job offer in Chicago.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he wasn’t ready for her to stop talking yet.
She spread her arms out in front of her. “He asked me to, but Heron Isle is my home. It’s where I want to be. I know it might not be much to someone like you who’s lived in New York, San Diego, and St. Louis, but this town is more than just streets and houses and hotels. Do you know what the town did when my dad passed a couple years ago?” She looked at him as if he should know the answer.
“They didn’t just set up one of those meal trains where everyone makes sure you at least have something to eat every night. They took shifts at the bookstore so I didn’t have to work for a few weeks. Pete was measuring guys for suits in the back room between customers, and Nana Theresa actually moved a case of her baked goods into the store so she could run my register, all just to make sure I didn’t lose my dad and my livelihood. That’s the kind of place I want to call home.”
Earlier in his career, he might have pitied her and the way calling a place home kept her tied down. He’d always thought he had the enviable life, getting to experience new places and meet new people. But who did he have that would be there for him when the chips were down? He had his sister and Fuller, but he hadn’t lived near either of them in a long time and was lucky to see them once every year or two. Lucy was so much stronger than she seemed to give herself credit for, and it was because she didn’t try to do everything on her own. She let other people in, and they were what made her strong.
Lucy sighed. “So Carter moved to Chicago, and I stayed here, where my best prospect is some stranger who stands me up.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s fine, though. I don’t need someone else to make me complete. This place, the people here, they make me feel whole.”
She had the connections Carly had pointed out he was so severely lacking. He never stayed anywhere long enough to develop those kinds of friendships, but it was probably for the best since he’d only have to leave them to move on to the next job. It even made him feel guilty for trying to befriend Lucy. He’d never be a real friend, here to pitch in during her time of need. He’d be off in Boston and then on to the next place.
But there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wanted to be part of it all. That he wanted to be Lucy’s friend. More, even.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice when she stood.
“I think I’m going to call it a night. Thanks for keeping me company.” She smiled, and it felt genuine. Then she hesitated, searching his face before she continued. “And for telling me about Mildred.”
He couldn’t find any words, so he simply nodded.
“And, hey,” she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, waiting for him to look up. “You take the cookies.” She motioned to the green box still sitting on the bench beside him. “You know, for keeping me company.”
Gone was the icy glint in her eyes. In its place, warmth radiated from her brown eyes as she smiled at him.
“I’ll see you around.”
As he watched her walk away, he could only think about how he was looking forward to seeing her again soon.