A few gulls circled, mewing as they did, their sharp eyes on the lookout for any unsuspecting tourists to steal food from. Louisa chuckled as she placed her tote bags in the back seat of her Ford.
“Not this morning.”
Next to the market, the hotel’s screen door slapped shut, and Eryn Grant stepped outside. Louisa veered in that direction.
“Good morning,” she called as she climbed the stairs, her half-glasses bumping on her chest from where they hung on a beaded lanyard around her neck.
“Morning.” Eryn eyed her curiously.
“I’m Louisa Woodhouse.” Louisa thrust out her hand.
Eryn shook it. “Eryn—”
“Oh, we all know who you are.” Louisa kept hold of her hand. “I was good friends with your grandmother, Maisie.”
“Really?” Eryn’s face lit up. “I’d love to know more about her.”
“Would you be joining me for a cup of coffee and some tall tales?” Louisa led the way into the diner.
Wilma immediately waved and reached for a couple of mugs. “Good morning, Miss Louisa.” She set the steaming cups down on the gleaming tabletop. “Have you seen Jenny’s new granddaughter yet?”
“Little Bridget?” Louisa beamed. “No. I’ll go by in a day or two.”
“I see you met Eryn.”
“I have. Thought I’d tell her a bit about Maisie.”
“Breakfast?”
“I already had mine.” Louisa glanced toward Eryn. “Have you eaten?”
“The usual?” Eryn said.
“Be right up.” Wilma hurried off.
“So,” Louisa began, folding her hands, “I understand you didn’t know anything about Little Sister when you were growing up.”
Eryn shook her head. “My mom never told me anything about this place.”
Louisa nodded. “Moira was a hard one to read.”
Eryn paused her stirring of cream into her coffee. “You knew her?”
“Sure I taught here for ages and ages. I had your mother and Michael in school.”
Eryn leaned forward. “What was she like?”
Louisa studied Eryn’s face, so like Maisie’s—and Katie’s. “She was bright, inquisitive. A good student.”
“But—” Eryn paused as Wilma delivered her breakfast.
“Here, Miss Louisa.” Wilma set a piece of strawberry pie in front of her. “You eat this and keep her company.”
“Thank you, Wilma.” She took a bite of the pie, wiping a bit of whipped cream off her upper lip. “You were asking?”
“If my mother seemed happy here, what happened? Why did she leave and never come back? Why didn’t she ever tell me about this place?”
“I don’t know.” Louisa frowned as she thought back. “I remember, she was one of my older students—they often helped me with the little ones in our one-room school—when something happened. She went from being a happy, talkative girl to sullen and moody. I never could get her to tell me why.”
They both ate for a few minutes.
“It about killed Maisie when Moira packed up and left after graduating.”
“And she never knew why, either?”
Louisa shook her head. “No. And later, after Bryan died—you knew about that, didn’t you?”
Eryn nodded. “That was sad.”
“It was tragic, in so many ways. After that, Maisie lost the rest of her family. Michael refused to come back. Wouldn’t bring Katie to spend summers here anymore. Poor Maisie died never seeing her family again.”
Eryn, her breakfast temporarily forgotten, leaned her elbows on the table. “Rebecca showed me our family book, our line. Kathleen and I are the last, aren’t we?”
“I’m afraid so. Have you been able to spend much time with Katie?”
Eryn cleared her throat and busied herself with her breakfast again. “She, uh, I think she’s been busy.”
Louisa gave her a knowing look. “What happened?”
Eryn lifted one shoulder. “She came to the library when Rebecca and I were—I think, maybe, she doesn’t want me here.”
“Nonsense.” Louisa waved a hand. “Katie’s not like that.”
“She kind of threw an envelope of old pictures at me and walked out.” Eryn peered up at her. “I haven’t seen her since, and I don’t feel like I’m welcome to go over there.”
Louisa considered. “Katie’s had a hard time of things recently, with her mother. It wasn’t just Christine’s passing.” She hesitated. “There were years of hard feelings there that Katie had to come to terms with. I’ve a feeling she’s a bit unsettled to learn of you, that’s all.”
“You think?”
“I do.” Louisa patted her hand. “Tell you what. You come to my house for lunch tomorrow. I’ll ask Katie to come, too. We’ll sort this out.”
She gave Eryn directions. “If you miss it, anyone can tell you where the Woodhouse place is.” She scraped the last bite of pie off her plate when a thought occurred.
“Eryn, what’s your middle name?”
Eryn gave her a puzzled frown. “Séana. Why?”
Louisa smiled. “I don’t think your mother left Little Sister as completely as we thought.”
The air was heavy with humidity and the metallic scent of ozone coming through the screens. Outside, thunder rumbled as flashes of lightning forked through the sky. Rebecca, as all the islanders did with every storm, had readied her oil lamps as the storm approached.
The solar panels and wind turbines they’d installed would continue to provide electricity for a while, but the longer a storm system held, the more their batteries drained. The island’s electric generator was often overloaded during storms, and in the summer, the hotel still needed power for guests and the diner, and shops needed lights and fans. The more individual houses could lessen their energy needs, the better for all.
She pulled her lamp nearer and bent over the Keeper’s book. She hadn’t had it out since she and Kathleen had had to decide what artifacts to sell. Her eyes drifted from the page before her to picture Nadiya that day at the auction house. The shock of seeing her, the spark in Nadiya’s eyes, the hitch in Rebecca’s chest—all the things that had let her know the connection between them was real, still there after all those years.
Only a couple more weeks.
The time she’d spent with Nadiya, as sporadic as it had been, had planted a seed of thought. Just a kernel of an idea. Sooner or later, she’d have to see if it could be reality.
A gust of wind swept rain through the window. She jumped up to lower the sash and reached for a towel to blot the scattered drops from the table and the book.
She sat back down to read over the pages she’d flipped to, the pages that outlined the ancient ritual for naming the island’s next Keeper.
“Should have done this long ago,” she muttered.
But the timing had never felt right. All the months with Christine’s illness and death, the island’s first upcoming school year in ages, the sudden arrival of a lost Halloran.
“Excuses.”
She was running out of them now. She sat back, a frosty glass of tea in her hands, staring out at the rain as she recalled the look on Kathleen’s face when she’d walked in to see her with Eryn Grant.
“I’m sorry,” Eryn had mumbled after Kathleen had walked out. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t be silly,” Rebecca had reassured her.
Eryn’s curiosity was natural, and they hadn’t been doing anything wrong—so why do I feel I broke something with Kathleen?
She lowered her gaze again to the book, her finger tracing the lines of tiny writing. “What if the answer is no?”
“You sure you can’t join us?”
Kathleen looked hopefully to Molly, who was wolfing down her breakfast after a pre-dawn row.
“Can’t,” Molly mumbled around a mouthful of oatmeal. “Gotta get Duncan Strongwind’s porch roof replaced. They had a couple inches of water in their living room with that last storm. Told him last summer it needed to be replaced. Couldn’t keep patching it, but that guy is so tight-fisted. Wouldn’t put the money into it. Now, they’ll probably have to replace some of their flooring and wallboard, too.”
She gulped some coffee. “You’ll be fine. We liked Eryn. Didn’t we?”
Kathleen pushed her eggs around on her plate. “Yeah.”
Molly reached for her hand. “She’s not here to take your place.”
“What is she here for?” Kathleen heard it, the petulance. “Sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”
“Not ridiculous. Overprotective.” Molly grinned. “That’s my job, remember? I can still do a background check on her.”
Kathleen snorted. “And have the FBI come down on us because someone was spying on one their people?”
She shook her head at herself. “I’ll be fine.” She gave Molly a kiss and picked up her empty bowl. “Go. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Thanks. Tell me all about it tonight.” Molly paused on her way out. “Remember, going away dinner for Joey tomorrow night.”
She rushed off, leaving Kathleen to clean the kitchen before heading upstairs to work, which ended up being a waste of a morning. Try as she might, Kathleen kept worrying about what she could possibly say to Eryn to excuse her behavior at the library.
By the time she and Blossom headed out, she’d talked herself into apologizing. “It’ll be awkward, just the three of us,” she said to herself as she placed a dozen of yesterday’s cookies in a tin. “You’ll have to make it right somehow.”
When she got out of the car, she stood staring at the house for a few minutes before Meredith stepped outside with Jasper. The dogs had a brief romp in the yard before trotting into the trees to take turns peeing on everything.
“You coming in?”
“Yeah.” Kathleen chuckled. “I’m admiring the new look. You staying for lunch?”
The dogs raced them up the porch steps.
“Yup. Louisa asked Mom and me to join you guys.” Meredith turned to her as they walked toward the kitchen. “That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Very all right.”
Meredith must have heard the relief in Kathleen’s voice, because she stopped mid-stride. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Kathleen repeated. “I’m fine.” She held up her container. “Cookie?”
“Not before lunch,” Louisa called out. “You’ll ruin your appetite.”
“Dog ears,” Meredith whispered as they entered the kitchen.
Louisa, who was slicing tomatoes, turned around, hands on hips. “Did you just say I’m a hundred in dog years?”
Kathleen giggled. “Older.” She gave Louisa a hug. “So, what’s up with this lunch?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
But Kathleen wasn’t fooled by Louisa’s innocent tone. “Where’re the guys?” she asked instead, figuring she was more likely to get an answer to this query.
“Sent off to do man-things,” Louisa said. “So we can have a women-only luncheon.”
“Luncheon?” Meredith echoed, trying not very successfully to hide her grin. Kathleen rolled her eyes as a knock came from the porch.
“I’ll get it,” Meredith said. She returned in a moment with Eryn in tow. “I’ll go let Mom know everyone’s here. She’s been painting up a storm the last few days.”
“Hi, Eryn,” Kathleen said, forcing a smile.
Eryn, who’d been hanging back, smiled in return. “Kathleen.”
“Now,” Louisa said sternly, spying the bag in Eryn’s hand, “I told you not to bring anything.”
Eryn shrugged. “Feels like bad manners to show up empty-handed.” She hefted the bag. “This is some cheese and crackers, munchies.”
“Well, thank you.” Louisa pointed her knife. “Katie, will you get a plate down for Eryn to set things out? This isn’t going to be a fancy meal. Cold sandwiches. I’ve got tuna salad and egg salad, or you can have a tomato sandwich like I’m going to have.”
Irene and Meredith joined them, everyone milling around to help lay the sandwich fixings out and get drinks poured.
“Wow,” Eryn observed, eyeing Louisa, Irene, and Meredith. “Anyone could tell you guys are related.”
Her expression reflected her confusion when the others all laughed.
“We didn’t know we were related until last year,” Irene said, passing the bowl of tuna.
Meredith launched into the tale of how she and Irene had dreamed for years about a shipwreck, without knowing what it meant, and how they’d eventually figured out the connection to Little Sister Island.
“It wasn’t until we were here last summer,” Meredith said, “that we figured out how we’re connected to the Woodhouse family.”
“You’re kidding.” Eryn sat, forgetting to eat, as she listened.
“True story.” Irene tilted her head. “We hear you’re a long-lost cousin of Kathleen’s.”
“Yeah.” Eryn poked her slice of tomato back into her tuna sandwich. “I had no idea I even had cousins.” She cast an apologetic glance in Kathleen’s direction. “Sorry. Cousin.”
“Did you ever have any weird dreams growing up?” Meredith asked.
“No.” Eryn squinted as if trying to see her past. “Nothing like yours. For me, it was just a feeling sometimes…” She stopped, blushing furiously.
“What kind of feeling?” Irene asked.
“Well, it’s not the kind of thing you can talk about if you need a security clearance,” Eryn admitted.
“Nothing goes past this table,” Louisa commanded, looking around at each of them in turn.
“Agreed,” Kathleen and Meredith said simultaneously.
Kathleen’s curiosity was piqued more than she wanted to admit. She found herself leaning forward.
“There were times,” Eryn began, still looking embarrassed, “when I could have sworn someone was whispering my name. Random times, random places. Sometimes in my sleep. I actually knew the voice, can still hear it. I used to whip around, certain if I could look fast enough, I’d be able to see who it was. Never did.”
She stuffed her mouth with a bite of sandwich.
“That’s about as bizarre as our story,” Meredith said. She turned to Louisa. “Have you ever heard of anyone coming back to Little Sister with a story like this?”
“No,” Louisa said slowly, her eyes narrowed. “I never have. But I think it was meant for you to find us.” She glanced deliberately in Kathleen’s direction.
“Yes,” Kathleen blurted, taking the hint. “I think you were meant to be here.” She met Eryn’s gaze. “I’m glad you found us.”
“Really?” Eryn’s tone reflected her uncertainty.
Kathleen nodded. “Really.”
Anyone approaching the Cooper house would have heard a raucous roar of conversation and laughter. It seemed almost all of the island population stopped by for at least a drink, if not to share a dish and stay to eat.
Brandi and the baby were, naturally, a center of attention, with Matty standing proudly and protectively alongside. Meredith was one of the few allowed to hold the little one, her shock of black hair a contrast to startlingly blue eyes as she blinked up into Meredith’s face.
To Meredith’s embarrassment, she was suddenly and inexplicably choked up. “She’s beautiful,” she managed to mumble as she handed the baby back to Brandi.
She hurried over to one of the tables where a bucket filled with ice held a few wine bottles. She poured herself a large cup—one of the unbreakable picnic variety—and took a big gulp. Joey ambled over to pluck a beer from the cooler sitting beside the table.
“You okay?” he asked, staring hard at her.
“Yeah.” She forced a smile and sat on the picnic bench. “Just… how can everything be so happy and so sad at the same time?”
“Sad?” He popped the top of his beer and sat beside her.
“You and Art and Kenny leaving tomorrow. I know you’re off on a grand adventure, and I’m happy for you, but I’m going to miss you.”
Joey suddenly found his knees very interesting. “You’re probably the only one.”
“You know that’s not true.” Meredith leaned over to bump her arm against his.
He lifted a careless shoulder. “Feels that way.”
A small group of young kids ran by, all of them waving plastic wands that left a trail of bubbles in their wake.
Joey lifted his beer in Matty and Brandi’s direction. “Even this is more about them than me.”
Meredith was about to protest that he was wrong, but the knot of people continuously gathered around the little family silenced her.
Joey sat up. “Anything you want me to take to your friends?”
“My love.”
“Great,” he said gruffly. “I’m here to bring you Meredith’s love.”
She laughed and rubbed his back. “You be sure to say it just like that.”
He grinned and wandered off to get something to eat, leaving her to watch the people milling about the yard. Art and Kenny had apparently made friends with most of the islanders over the course of their extended stay this summer, judging from the way they were working the crowd. And over there, Kathleen and Eryn were talking with Rebecca and Jenny.
Meredith caught sight of her mom, talking to Siobhan, probably about supplying new paintings for the gift shop. It took her a moment to find her father, over on the far side of the yard, deep in conversation with Joe.
This was how they were lately. Not fighting or arguing, just not together. Unless they were all gathered at the table for a meal, Meredith couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her parents hanging out together. Her dad hadn’t said anything more about a separation, but that conversation nagged at her.
A whiskery kiss on the side of her neck brought her out of her reverie.
“Deep thoughts?” Aidan asked as he took Joey’s seat beside her.
“Kind of.” She hadn’t shared her father’s conversation with anyone, not even Aidan. “Just watching everyone.”
His gaze drifted toward Matty and Brandi. “They look happy.”
Those damned tears were suddenly back. She jumped up and almost ran around to the front of the house, Aidan on her heels.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.
“I d-d-don’t know,” she sobbed into his shoulder.
He bent his head to lay his cheek against hers. “The baby?” he murmured.
She nodded.
“Me, too.” He stroked her hair. “But I’m terrified.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face to him. “Why?”
He tried to pull away, but she saw the tremble of his chin and grabbed his arm. “Why?” she repeated.
“I don’t know what kind of father I’d be. I’ve made so many mistakes.”
She laid her hand on his cheek. “You’ll be an amazing father. Your mistakes don’t define you, Aidan. You’ve used them to mold yourself into something else. You’re a completely different man.”
She drew him down to kiss her.
“I know I don’t have forever,” she whispered when they parted. “I’m already thirty-seven, but I’m getting ready to teach here for the first time.”
“I know.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “How about we time it so you’ll give birth during the summer.”
She snorted. “I don’t think it works like that.”
He gave her a lop-sided grin. “I was thinking that it would give us an excuse to put a lot of extra time in, trying, you know… after you get your school year off to a start.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Oh, you were?”
He nodded. “Lots and lots of trying.”