As the fiery sunset faded to dusk, her sister found Honey in front of the altar.
“Where are Baby Patrick and Max?” Honey whispered.
Amelia hugged Honey. “With Miss Pauline.”
Darkness descended across Kiptohanock. Reverend Parks arrived and lit the candles on the altar. She winced as the light from the tapers flickered across the sea blue walls of the sanctuary. Because she remembered other candles. Another night. Last night.
The reverend was joined by his wife, the Sandpiper Cafe owner and Honey’s waitress friend, Dixie. Others, too, like Mrs. Francis, the troop leader. The town postmistress. The soon-to-retire librarian, Mrs. Beal. And Mr. Keller, newly released from rehab.
Praying. Singing hymns. Comforting each other.
It was the way of the Kiptohanock faithful. Humbled, she was struck with how much larger her true family was, more than she’d imagined. And she was grateful.
But the hours ticked by with no word of Sawyer. She breathed in the scent of wax and the leather of the Bible she’d clutched to her chest during the long night. The candles burned low on the altar.
Yet as the darkness of the night surrendered to the first streaks of dawn, she heard the bell.
Slumped against the side of a pew, Honey jolted. Amelia seized her hand. Heads turned.
Throwing off Amelia’s arm, she staggered to her feet. Squinting at the glare of the sunrise, she dashed out of the church. Behind her, a steady stream of prayer warriors followed close on her heels.
One of her dad’s ROMEO friends rocked the mounted bell from side to side. The clapper clanged against the metal. Catching sight of Honey, Seaman Apprentice Reaves on the adjacent dock gestured toward the open channel.
Where a small flotilla of vessels—Coast Guard, fishing and recreational—chugged into the harbor. Honey identified Braeden at the helm of a response boat. Her dad manned the wheel of the Now I Sea.
Please... Please bring Sawyer back... Please.
She raced toward the Coast Guard dock. She stopped a few yards away, her eyes floating toward the morning sky. Red sky last night, sailor’s delight.
Let him be okay...
And if he wasn’t? She lifted her face toward the steeple. Either way, in the end, they’d both be okay.
Wiggins, a bandage swathing his forehead, leaped to catch the mooring line Dawkins tossed. Braeden cut the engine. The station-side Coasties went into action. Honey strained on her tiptoes to see, but their height blocked her view of the interior of the boat.
Hands knotted, she held her breath. Time went into slow motion. A surreal quality fogged her vision. At the sudden caw of seagulls, her eyes shot skyward before dropping toward the end of the pier.
Then...
A straw-colored head emerged from the boat cabin. Cut high and cropped close on the sides in the Coastie buzz. Braeden’s arm around him on one side. Wiggins surged forward to support him on the other side.
She dug her fingernails into her palms. Her eyes stung. She blinked the moisture away. “Sawyer!”
His head lifted. His face blackened with smoke, those sky blue eyes of his burned bright.
She ran the length of the pier. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she crossed the remaining distance separating them. He was alive. Thank You, God. Sawyer was alive.
Honey flung herself at him, knocking Braeden’s arm from around Sawyer. The restraining hand of Wiggins on Sawyer’s back only just prevented them from falling into the Kiptohanock drink.
“Whoa there,” Braeden reared. “Give him a chance to—”
“Are you hurt?” She gripped Sawyer’s shoulders. “I love you.” She brushed a kiss across his cracked lips.
His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
“Are you bleeding anywhere?” Her gaze flitted from the top of his wind-blown hair down his torso. “I love you.” She kissed the corner of his mouth.
He stared at her.
“Is anything broken?” She scanned his torn uniform for injuries. She cupped his cheek. “I love you.” She kissed him again.
His forehead creased.
“I’m so sorry, Sawyer.” She smoothed his collar into place. “Will you forgive me for not telling you before how much I love you?” She plucked at his upturned sleeve, straightening it.
Sawyer’s wood-roughened hands captured her restless fingers and pressed them against his chest. “Beatrice...” his voice rasped.
Her eyes flew to his. “God and I talked last night.” Her mouth quivered. “And I’ve decided every time you say my name—” She bit her lip, working to steady her voice.
She swallowed and tried again.
“I’ve decided every time for the rest of your life when you say my name the right way, I’m going to kiss you.”
She opened her palms flat against his uniform. His heart thrummed against her hands. A slow smile curved his lips.
Her heart pitter-pattered. As her knees threatened to give way, she was glad Sawyer had hold of her. So not fair what his smile did to her insides.
“Is that right?” His blue eyes sparked. “Beatrice isn’t going to cut it anymore?”
She shook her head.
“Would you let me call you sweetheart?”
Her pulse and her heart tangoed. “That one I might take under advisement.”
Sawyer brought her captured hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her palm. “So you want me to call you Honey?”
Honey gave him a quick kiss.
Sawyer let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her.
Honey inched back to better see his face. “You’re not the only one who can keep a promise.”
Sawyer’s hold tightened around her waist. “I can see that.” A muscle beat a furious tempo in his exposed throat. “Honey...”
Both hands gripping his collar, she kissed him once more. “I love you, Sawyer.” She eased onto her heels.
His lips quirked. “Have it your own way.” He cocked his head. “You always do. And I love you, too.” Sawyer widened his stance. “Honey...”
Biting off a laugh, her mouth found his again. And she showed him how she intended to honor her promise. Always.