I’d rather be a good person off the field than a good baseball player on the field.
—Bryce Harper
While Liam didn’t think Jessie had meant what she said about them burning the shack down, Finn took it to heart. For obvious safety reasons, they didn’t just torch it, but anything that could burn did, including most of the stuff Kate had stored on the boats.
Always a bit on the superstitious side, Finn thought the whole shack and everything in it was contaminated and said it would be wrong for them to give any of it to the Return-It place, where their family’s disease would infect others’ lives. So while Jessie and Kate fed and tended the fire by the water’s edge, Liam and Finn took sledgehammers first to the building and then to the sink and freezer.
It was damn therapeutic, he’d give Finn that much. Watching it burn was like one of the last pieces in Liam’s recovery. When the old man finally decided to start going to AA, Jessie had begged and pleaded with Liam, Ro, and Finn to go to some Al-Anon meetings; only then did Liam recognize that Da’s drinking was an illness that made him do things he wouldn’t have done otherwise.
So while the kid in Liam, and probably his brothers, too, still remembered every beating, the adult he’d grown into had managed to put most of it behind him. The shack had been the last physical memory of any of it, and now it was gone.
Neither he nor Finn spoke much while they worked, and Kate and Jessie seemed to understand why, because they didn’t force conversation to mask the silence. Even later, when Liam was out with his bucket of balls, Kate came waddling out of the lodge and took her place behind the plate without so much as a word.
And to show his appreciation for that, Liam wound up and nailed fastball after fastball at her until his arm begged for mercy.
Instead of heading to her cabin afterward, Kate simply refilled her ice bag and grabbed a clipboard and pen from the office.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“We need to get the inventory done.”
Liam popped the top of a beer and held it out to her. “It’s late; we can do it in the morning.”
“Sure we can,” she said, as she dragged one of the chairs over near the counter and climbed up on it. “Or we can start now while we’re having our beers. There’s another clipboard on Jessie’s desk.”
He couldn’t help but smile a little at that. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one cracking the whip?
“Where’re the other two?” he asked, already heading for Jessie’s desk.
“When I was getting geared up, Jessie was heading upstairs to inventory the guest rooms now that they’ve been cleaned, and Finn was starting in the pub.”
As he made his way back into the kitchen, Liam flicked on the radio, set it to a Top 40 station, and adjusted the volume so it wasn’t too loud.
Inventory wasn’t anything new to Liam; he’d done it every year as a kid, but he’d never liked doing it. Not until now. Maybe it was because he didn’t have the old man barking in his ear the whole time, telling him to recount again and again. Or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the way Kate hummed along with him to some of the songs, or the look she got on her face when she pulled the wooden fish out of the far drawer.
“Uh, Liam?” Frowning, she turned it over and over in her hands. “What the hell is this?”
Laughing, Liam dropped his pen next to his clipboard and lifted the fish out of her hands.
“That’s Otto!”
“Otto?”
“Yeah, watch this.” He opened the oven door, hooked Otto’s dorsal fin around the top rack, and pulled it out as far as it would go. “Earned myself a B plus on this, I’ll have you know.”
“You made it?” Crinkles formed around her eyes as her mouth curled up into a smile. “It’s…um…great. Good job.”
“But, wait, there’s more.” Giving her his best, albeit creepy, ShamWow Vince smile, he unhooked the fish and held it up again. “Watch this.”
Angling Otto’s open mouth against the edge of the rack, he pushed it back inside the oven, then lifted Otto up for applause.
“Ta-da!”
“That’s…” She started to laugh, then squinted at his work of art. “You carved eyes in it?”
“ ’Course. You didn’t see Michelangelo leaving any of his masterpieces without eyes, did you?”
“So we’re comparing this…stick…to David or the Sistine Chapel, then? Is that what we’re doing?”
“Welllllll…” He grinned. “Maybe not the Sistine Chapel, ’cause that was just a painting, but there was some serious sculpting going on with Otto, so…”
There it was: the tiny bursts of amber in her eyes that made him believe, if only for that moment, that he wasn’t a total schmuck, that maybe there was a tiny part of him that was worth something to her. Her cheeks flushed a bit pinker in that moment, and then she turned and went back to the drawer she’d been working on.
“Why Otto?” she asked. “Where’d that come from?”
“A Fish Out of Water. It was my favorite book when I was little. D’you ever read it?”
“Uh, I don’t think so. I was more of a Harry Potter girl.”
Of course she was; probably had the whole Gryffindor outfit, too.
It didn’t take them nearly as long to get the kitchen done as Liam had thought, but in the time they had, he learned a few more things about her, like how she’d never had a pet—not even a goldfish—and that after Vegas, she’d returned to Vancouver and had eventually found herself a tiny one-bedroom apartment, which she still lived in even though she could well afford something better now.
“You saving up for something?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You gonna tell me what that is?” Liam closed the last drawer and leaned back against it.
Her shoulder lifted slightly, but she never turned to look at him. “I’m not really sure yet. My own house maybe, or I might invest in one of Paul’s projects one day. I’d like to do some traveling, too.”
Having spent most of the last decade in hotel rooms, the idea of travel didn’t do much for Liam. Not unless it was somewhere like—
“Africa.” The word slipped out of both their mouths at the same time, making Liam smile and Kate blush.
“One day,” she said. “Not anytime soon, but one day.”
Yeah. One day. Liam knew all about “one days.” One day his agent was going to call with an offer, not another false lead. One day he’d get his fastball back up to ninety-plus miles an hour. One day Ma was going to show up and explain why she’d walked away from the three of them. And one day he was going to meet someone who made him feel the same rush he’d felt walking into that damn chapel with Kate.
He knew he hadn’t said any of that out loud, but it was as if she’d sensed what he was thinking, because she couldn’t seem to look at him for more than a second before her gaze skittered off somewhere else.
“Looks like that’s it for in here.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she nodded slowly as she tapped her pen methodically against her clipboard. “I guess I’ll call it a night, then.”
After leaving their inventory on Jessie’s desk, Liam followed Kate to the door and waited while she got her coat on.
“Thanks for your help today,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I appreciate it.”
“Sure.” She tugged her hair out from where it was trapped under the collar of her coat. “Just doing my job.”
It was true, yet there was something in her voice that made him wonder—okay, maybe hope—that it might be more.
“ ’Night, Liam.”
“G’night.” He pulled the door open for her and then leaned against the frame, watching as she moved out of the glow of the porch light and on toward her cabin, the bobbing beam of her flashlight leading the way.
He could hear someone coming through the kitchen—Finn, by the sounds of it—but Liam couldn’t bring himself to stop watching her. Not yet.
“We’re not paying to heat the outdoors.” Da’s familiar expression spoken in Finn’s voice, so close to Liam’s ear, finally made him blink.
“Hey, Finn.” Another couple of seconds and Kate was inside her cabin, safe and sound. Closing the door, Liam turned to his brother. “Did you finish up in the pub?”
Finn stared at him for a solid ten seconds or so before shaking his head. “Don’t do it, man.”
“Don’t do what?” Liam pushed by him and lifted his almost empty beer.
“Don’t do her.”
“What?” Thankful he hadn’t taken a swig of his beer yet, he jerked the bottle back down, knocking it against his tooth as he did. “Ow! What the hell are you talking about?”
Disbelief clouded Finn’s face as he kept shaking his head at Liam, and Liam could try to deny it all he wanted, but they both knew exactly what Finn meant.
“Even if she wasn’t working to take this place away from us, you’ve both said you were stupid to get together the first time.”
No, Liam mused. That’s not what they’d said. They’d said it was stupid that they got married the way they did, not that they’d hooked up. Two different things.
Finn pulled a beer out of the fridge and tipped it toward the closed door. “So every time your little soldier starts to stand at attention, you remind him about that. She’s here because her boss wants to take this place—our place—away from us.”
“That’s kind of dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Nope. Foster might have been Da’s friend, but he’s not ours. He’s in it to win it, and it doesn’t matter how hard we work or how optimistic Jess is, the chances of us making that tax payment are slim and none.”
He took a long pull on his beer and sighed.
“We’re a Motel 6 in an industry full of Hiltons and Trump Towers. I’ve done some reading up on this Foster guy, and while nothing’s come out and said he’s a snake, I still have a bad feeling about him.”
“You’ve never even met him.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Everything I’ve found on him tells me he’s not the swell guy he sounded like. I’d bet he’ll not only try to undercut us on the price, but he’ll take our place—the one we’ve built—and turn it into another one of those all-inclusive spa-type places where fishing is just one of the packages they offer, right up there with Swedish facials and body wraps.”
“Those places are always full.”
“Sure,” Finn said. “But the Buoys doesn’t cater to that type. We fish, we don’t give manicures, and if we’re forced to let this place go, we can’t let it go to someone who’s going to turn it into one of those places.”
“I don’t know how we’d stop it, Finn. If we end up losing it, then we don’t get to have a say in what happens to it.”
“Then don’t lose it.” Jessie’s voice preceded her into the room. “Work harder and longer so no one has the chance to get their meat hooks into the Buoys to start with.”
“Right,” Liam muttered. “Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
While Finn had obviously been busy googling Paul Foster, Liam had been going over the numbers ad nauseam, trying to work them into a different outcome. Hands down, one of the best things about the Buoys was its location, but the seclusion also made it damn expensive to get supplies in and out.
Most things were brought in by barge; this was neither cheap nor convenient, because Strip Cove wasn’t on its usual route, which meant added costs to have the barge detour their way. The Helijet was faster and much more convenient, but it couldn’t transport much and was even more costly when it did.
That left their own boats, but the Grady-Whites weren’t built for transporting large amounts of supplies, either, and what money they saved by picking up the supplies themselves, they lost in precious work time.
They were fighting a losing battle, Finn was right about that, and yet Liam knew it didn’t matter how hard the fight was, they weren’t about to roll over for Foster or anyone. Not even Kate.
For the next few days, Kate made a point of steering clear of Liam as much as she could, because no matter how cute he’d been demonstrating the uses of his ridiculous wooden fish, she couldn’t afford to be distracted. She’d been taken in by those blue eyes and that smile once before and ended up telling her boss to shove his job up his ass.
That wasn’t a mistake she could afford to make again.
And while it might have just been her imagination, it sure seemed as if Liam was doing his level best to steer clear of her, too, which was probably for the best.
There was no getting away from each other forever, though.
“Hey, Kate.” With a pencil stuck between the edge of her toque and the top of her ear, Jessie stepped inside the Green cabin Kate was busy scouring. “How are you with boats?”
“If by ‘boats’ you mean ferries, I’m good. I do the Tsawwassen–Victoria run three or four times a year.”
“Yeah, not quite what I meant. Ever been on a boat the size of Fishin’ Impossible?” Jessie thumbed over her shoulder in the general direction of the three boats tied up to the dock.
“Uh, no.”
“Well, that’s about to change.” When Kate’s only response was a gaping blink, Jessie continued. “Finn was going to go with Liam to get the supplies tomorrow, but they haven’t had a chance to do any maintenance on the other two boats, so Finn’ll do that while you guys run to Hardy, and if he needs parts, you can pick them up while you’re there.”
It took another second for Jessie’s meaning to sink in.
“You want me to go to Port Hardy with Liam?” she asked. “Me? Wouldn’t it be better if you went? You know what’s what, so you’d—”
“No.” Jessie had already started for the door, leaving no time for Kate to argue. “Depending on weather and what all, it’s about an hour from here to there, so he’ll want to get an early start. I’ll make sure there’s coffee ready before you leave, and if motion sickness is going to be a problem, there’s Gravol in the first-aid cupboard.”
“Great.” It didn’t matter what Kate said, because Jessie was already gone, and even if she hadn’t left, any argument would have been useless, because Jessie didn’t really get along with water. Isn’t that what she’d said before?
An hour on a boat, alone with Liam, then God only knew how long it would take to gather up the supplies, and then another hour ride back.
Fan-freakin’-tastic.
So first thing the next morning, when the low-lying mist made the whole cove look like something out of a John Carpenter movie, Kate filled one of the thermoses, dosed herself up with Gravol just in case, and pocketed a few more for the ride home.
“Ready?” Liam’s voice made her jump.
“Uh, yeah. Just need to grab a…” Feeling more than a little ridiculous, she pulled a small bucket out of the broom closet and nodded. “All set.”
“You get seasick?” he asked, frowning slightly.
“We’ll soon find out, won’t we?” She gave up on her forced laugh when Jessie came in, clipboard in hand.
“Okay, here’s your copy. Give us a call before you head back, in case we find something else we need.” She smirked down at Kate’s bucket, then winked. “And I wouldn’t say no to pizza for dinner tonight.”
Liam nodded absently as he waved Kate out ahead of him. “We’ll see what we can do.”
“Extra olives!”
Finn was down at the dock and already had Fishin’ Impossible warming up when they arrived.
“You’ve got a full tank,” he said. “But while you’re over there, you need to go set us up on a fuel delivery schedule again.”
Kate waited on the dock, out of the way, while Liam went through what seemed to be a routine check of the boat: engine, propellers, radios, GPS, and something that looked an awful lot like a radar screen.
When he was done, he stepped to the back of the boat and reached out his hand for hers.
“Watch your step.”
Compared to hers, his fingers were warm and a hell of a lot more steady; he helped her over the side of the boat while avoiding the tarped-over pile of shingles that took up most of the space.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll just be a second. The PFDs are under the seats.”
Built for fishing, not for touring, Fishin’ Impossible didn’t leave much room in the cabin for more than the two seats, so Kate tucked her bucket on the floor at her feet and pulled the horseshoe-shaped inflatable PFD on. The boat roof was zipped closed and the heat was on inside the cabin, but Kate was still happy she’d remembered to bring a second pair of socks and one of the thick gray wool sweaters from the lodge.
Finn stood outside, holding on to the boat until Liam got himself set up behind the wheel, and then, with a gentle push, they were off. Slowly at first, Liam pointed them out to open water, then held down one of the switches on the console and watched over his shoulder as the bigger of the two propellers lowered into the water.
“All set?”
Eyes wide, Kate nodded, short and quick, then watched as Liam eased the throttle forward. The boat took off, humming over the mostly calm water in a way Kate could only describe as graceful, and while Liam sat back against his seat, looking relaxed, Kate inched forward, pressing her hands against the narrow dashboard.
They’d only been moving for a couple of minutes, but already she knew this was infinitely better than riding the ferry. Sure, that had its own good points, like the view from the upper deck and being able to get an order of fries and gravy while you sat back and relaxed with a good book.
But this…this was peace.
As though someone had pulled a curtain aside, the mist dissolved, giving way to a soft, intimate light that filtered over the eastern rise to her left and seemed to coax the day awake. It was as if Kate and Liam were the only living things left in the whole world, until a couple of gulls swooped down and flew beside the boat before veering off toward land.
The radio squawked, the engine rumbled, and at some point Liam turned on some music, but Kate hardly noticed any of it. There were too many other things to pay attention to, like the way the boat glided so effortlessly through the water, or the way the trees appeared to grow at a forty-five-degree angle out of the rocky islands.
As they made their way out of the strait and into the Queen Charlotte Sound, the water turned a little choppy, but Kate was far too captivated by everything else to even care. Opening her side window just enough to stick her nose out, she closed her eyes and inhaled long and deep. She’d always loved the salty smell of the ocean, but right then it was as if she were smelling it for the very first time.
“Hold on.”
That was all the warning she got before Liam cranked the boat to the right, knocking Kate’s forehead against the window.
“What are you doing?” With her window closed again, she turned just as Liam pointed out the front window toward a vertical burst of water. “Is that…?”
Liam didn’t answer until they were a couple of hundred meters away from where they’d spotted it; he pulled on the throttle, bringing the boat to a quick stop.
And then they waited—neither speaking, Kate hardly breathing until Liam pointed again. This time there was no burst of water, only a rounded black back swelling out of the water.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
She cast a quick glance at Liam, who was nodding slowly, his gaze fixed out the front window.
“You don’t often see them this time of year,” he said. “But every once in a long while…”
He didn’t finish, because just then the whale breached again, blew a little harder, and slipped back into the water.
Kate couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “That’s unbelievable.”
“Wait for it.”
Sure enough, a minute or so later, the orca lifted out of the water, came down hard on its left side, then disappeared, leaving a steady flow of ripples in its wake.
Kate didn’t know how long they sat there watching, but she would have been quite happy to sit there all day, especially once the rest of the small pod showed up.
“I should be taking pictures,” she murmured, making no attempt to reach for her phone, because Liam’s voice, quiet and gentle, expressed exactly what she was thinking.
“No picture anyone could ever take would do that justice.”
When they were sure the pod had moved on, Liam eased the throttle up and turned south again, but a little piece of Kate’s heart stayed back with her whales.
She couldn’t seem to stop shaking her head. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah.” His smile, so slow, so serene, almost did her in. “It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”
“I guess you see things like that a lot, eh?”
“One of the perks of the job,” he said, laughing lightly. “And I’ll take that over any other perk out there.”
“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “Me too. Will we see them on the way back?”
“Doubt it, but you never know.” Settled in his seat again, he tipped his head toward her bucket. “How’re you feeling?”
“What? Oh, that.” Kate dismissed the bucket with a flick of her wrist. “I’m fine. Tell me more about this whole boating thing.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she said. “How old you were when you learned how to drive a boat—”
“Pilot.” When Kate frowned at him, he lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “You drive a car; you pilot a boat.”
“Okay,” Kate said, grinning. “Good to know.”
“And I don’t remember; it was just something we all did.”
She liked seeing him like this—relaxed, comfortable, almost happy. And his mood must have been contagious, because Kate couldn’t remember feeling so at ease since…well, honestly, she didn’t think it had ever happened.
Listening to him share the good parts of what it was like growing up at the Buoys, Kate could almost understand why the three of them kept coming back after everything that happened with their dad. They’d had some ugly times, no question, but it was the good times he told her about now, the times before Jimmy started drinking and the times after he quit.
Like when the boys were little: On the weekend before fishing season started, Jimmy would take them out on the boat to Millbanke Sound, where they’d spend those last few days of quiet alone, just the four of them. The older they got, the more crowded the boat got, but none of them cared, not even when there wasn’t enough floor space to sleep on anymore. Somehow they made do.
He talked about everything Jimmy had done to make the Buoys their home first and a lodge second and about how everything he knew, he’d learned at his dad’s side—from patience, to technique, to the way you could learn a lot about a person from the way they handled a tangled line.
The sentimental attachment to the Buoys, along with the pull of the ocean—specifically their little part of it—was too strong for any of them to resist.
It was where the three brothers spent most of their vacation time, even during the off-season, because no matter what else was going on, Liam told her, being able to get out on a boat made everything better. Rain, sun, or sleet, rough water or not, a couple of hours away from shore, away from the noise of life, did something to a body. Righted it.
With a slow teasing roll of his eyes, he corrected her terminology, explaining that if she had any hope of being a true fisherman, she needed to start using words like “bow and stern,” instead of “front and back,” and she needed to start thinking in terms of “knots,” not “kilometers.”
He talked about the different-colored buoys and symbols, what they meant to boaters, and how he knew where his “lane” was when he piloted. Phrases like “red right return” and “right rod to the beach” were going to have to be re-explained at some point, because the only thing she could focus on now was the gentle cadence of his voice and how much she’d missed hearing it.
Before she knew it, they’d rounded the corner of Duval Island, and then it was a straight shot to Port Hardy and the end of their peace for a while.
The Return-It crew met them at the dock and helped haul the shingles, wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow, up the ramp to their waiting truck. Once that was done, Liam led her to the old green pickup they always left at the Port Hardy dock, and they ran from one place to the next, digging up everything on their list, from plumbing supplies and bedding to lumber and sheets of drywall.
It seemed everywhere they went, people wanted to stop and talk to Liam, not because he’d played for the Tigers but because they’d heard he was working to reopen the Buoys, and they all wanted to wish him and his brothers well.
“Not a single autograph request.” Kate shot him a teasing wink as they paid for the two extra-large pizzas with extra olives. “Don’t they know that you’re a hotshot pitcher?”
“They know, but ball players aren’t the hotshots that do it for them here.” Liam pulled open the café door and waited for her to go ahead of him. “The only hotshots they care about in these parts are the guys who have their own fishing shows, and that’s not us.”
No, she thought, from what she knew of the O’Donnells, that wasn’t their style at all.
It was late afternoon when they climbed back into the truck and headed for the dock. Kate pulled out her phone and called the Buoys, but no one answered, so she was forced to leave a message. She tried again when they got to the dock and then again when they finished loading everything onto the boat. Still no answer.
“Is that normal?” she asked, frowning at Liam.
“Nope. Jessie’s not usually away from the phone very long, especially now that we’re taking reservations, and she always has a radio with her. Come on, let’s go.” He helped her onto the boat, then hurried through his checks before heading for home.
She knew damn well that cell coverage was pretty much nonexistent in those parts, but that didn’t stop Kate from checking the bars on her phone every few minutes.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” she said, and even though Liam nodded, neither one of them really believed it to be true.
The calmer waters of the morning gave way to heavy chops that the boat hit hard, sometimes lifting the bow right out of the water and slamming it down. Liam didn’t relax back in his seat this time but rather sat forward, his right hand wrapped around the radio mic until he thought they might be in range.
“Fishin’ Impossible to the Buoys. Jessie, you there?”
The radio crackled but no one answered.
“Fishin’ Impossible to the Buoys. Come in, Jessie.”
Nothing.
He kept trying for another twenty minutes or so before giving up and hooking the mic back into its clip. All Kate could do was worry and keep checking her phone for bars she knew wouldn’t appear. They finally shot through the strait and curled around toward Strip Cove. Both she and Liam leaned forward, squinting toward the dock, where someone—Jessie—was standing stock-still, staring at the smoke coming out of one of the other boats.
Kate wanted to tell Liam to slow down, that he was going to crash into the dock, but before she could, he was already barking orders.
“Throw the bumpers out on the port side.”
Port port port…oh God. Was that left or right? Left! “Left” and “port” both had four letters.
The dock was getting awfully close by the time she threw the bumpers out, but by then he was slowing down.
“I’m gonna need you to jump out onto the dock and get the line—the rope—through the cleat there, the thing that looks like a metal T. You got it?”
Okay, she could do that. Even though Liam had slowed the boat, the incoming waves pushed it sideways, rolling it back and forth, but Kate was determined. Crouched on the narrow side ledge, she leapt onto the dock as soon as they got close, then turned and grabbed hold of the boat, tugging it near enough to get the rope through the cleat, as he’d said.
In her hurry, she’d only gotten a brief glance of Jessie, but as freaked out as Jessie looked, she wasn’t the main worry, and neither was the thin line of smoke trailing up from the stern of The Reel Deal. The worry was that Finn was nowhere to be seen.
Liam was off the boat before Kate finished tying the first knot.
“Jessie!” he hollered. “Are you okay? Where’s Finn?”
“I’m here,” Finn called, hustling out of the White cabin, waving an extinguisher.
In the time it took Finn to get from the cabin around the cove and to the dock, Kate finished securing the other dock line on Fishin’ Impossible. She made it to the rest of them just as Finn thrust the extinguisher at Liam.
“Take it.”
Liam sprayed down the rest of the smoke while they all stared at the charred and melted wreckage that was once the back end of The Reel Deal. As Kate stood there, it struck her as odd that even though Finn’s hair was wet, his clothes weren’t. But as quickly as it struck her, she noticed the pile of dripping clothes Jessie had clutched in her arms.
“Did you fall in?” she asked.
With a quick glance at Jessie, Finn nodded briefly.
“What the hell happened?” Liam asked.
“I had her running so I could check the props and the engine,” Finn said. “Figured I’d give her a minute to get going and ran up to grab a coffee. I was gone two, maybe three minutes, but by the time I got back outside, she was already burning. I’m guessing the intakes must’ve been plugged.”
“Shit.” Liam scraped his hand over the top of his head and sighed. “You sure you’re okay? Jessie?”
Finn nodded, but Jessie didn’t.
“Why didn’t you just grab the extinguisher outta there?” Liam asked, thumbing toward the boat on the other side of the dock.
“Didn’t work.” Together, Finn and Liam both glanced at the stern of Buoy O’Buoy, now littered with three extinguishers. “Jess came running with one from the kitchen, but it didn’t work, either, so she grabbed one out of Orange and we thought we had it all out.”
“You thought?”
“It sparked again a couple minutes ago, but there wasn’t enough in the Orange extinguisher to put it all out.”
“Jesus,” Liam muttered. “How old are those damn things?”
“I don’t know, but guess what’s going on the top of the next supply list?”
“We tried to call,” Kate said, frowning at Jessie, who still hadn’t said anything. “The phone and the radio.”
“Jess has been down here helping me, so the phone wasn’t exactly a priority, and as for my radio…” Finn tipped his head toward the water. “It’s going to need replacing.”
“Are you okay, Jessie?” Kate tried to tug the wet clothes out of her arms, but Jessie tightened her grip on them until Finn finally stepped toward them.
“She’s all right, aren’t you, Jess? Just a little spooked, is all.” He tipped her chin up a bit and smiled gently, until Jessie eventually blinked out of the fog she’d been in. “See, there she is.”
“What?” Giving her head a shake, Jessie stumbled back a step before looking down at the pile of clothes she held. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Who’s hungry?”
Before anyone could answer, Jessie turned and marched straight toward the lodge, leaving Kate staring after her.
“Seriously, is she okay?”
“She will be,” Liam said over a sigh. “Give her a couple minutes.”
And, sure enough, by the time they’d unloaded the supplies from Fishin’ Impossible and made their way into the pub for a pint, Jessie appeared to be her old self.
“We have a problem,” she said, chewing her bottom lip hard. “More than the fire, I mean. The insurance for both The Reel Deal and Buoy O’Buoy expired three years ago.”