“If only that would last.” Sarah shook her head. “Do you want us to stay and visit with you while you eat?”
Given the bad weather, Sarah had only one or two customers shopping for flowers the entire day, so she’d closed up a little early to be with Brian. As the island wedding planner, Sarah was smack-dab in the middle of her busiest time of the year. Even so, knowing Missy was stuck alone in her store until closing, she’d dropped off a tomato mozzarella salad from Duffy’s Pub.
“You and Bri take off,” Missy said. “I don’t want you to be late for your movie.”
“You’ll be okay here?”
“It’ll be quiet.” She smiled. “A good night to get some things done.”
She could make several chakra bracelets or dust a few shelves or simply sit and enjoy the thunderstorm with a cup of herbal tea. It would be lonely, but Missy had grown used to being alone. At least that’s what she told herself every day. She glanced at Brian and the ache that had steadily grown stronger over the past several years pierced her heart like a jagged spear.
As if Sarah had read Missy’s thoughts, she gently touched her son on the shoulder. “Brian, go use Missy’s bathroom before we take off.” After the little boy had dashed toward the rear of the store, Sarah cautiously asked, “Any news on the adoption front?”
More than anything in the world Missy wanted a child, but it seemed the one thing in the world she couldn’t make happen. For now she’d have to settle for Slim. As if sensing her sudden turn of emotion, the cat wove himself around her legs. Slim may have had free rein of Mirabelle, running in and out of his kitty doors at will, but he usually chose to stick by her side.
“Actually.” Missy picked up the cat again. Holding him, petting his soft fur, always calmed her. “Barbara called earlier today to tell me she’s hopeful about a new match.”
“That’s great! Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
Because Missy’s representative at the adoption agency had been hopeful about the past five matches and they, too, had gone absolutely nowhere. Years ago, after the agency had explained that a stable, safe, supportive community would be essential, Missy had decided to settle here on the island. How could there be a better place on this earth to raise a child than Mirabelle? But, as it turned out, place hadn’t been enough to tip the adoption scales in favor of a single young woman.
“I was afraid I’d jinx the deal by getting my hopes up,” Missy said softly, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.
“Maybe you should reconsider the alternatives?”
After a great deal of thought, Missy had decided to go the private adoption route. She’d finally found the right agency, filled out all the necessary applications and paperwork, and gone through the grueling home study process. “I’m not switching horses midstream.”
“I’m talking about the old-fashioned route. You know. Man, woman, marriage, child.”
“Not an option.” Missy shook her head. “I met the one true love of my life, and we both know how that turned out.” She believed in Fate changing lives, always had, but over the years she’d come to accept that every once in a while Fate managed to screw up.
“Well, there’s a certain someone on the island who seems darned close to wanting you to reconsider.”
Sean Griffin. Sarah had to be referring to the new doctor. “We’re friends, Sarah. That’s all.”
“Well, if Natalie can do it,” Sarah said, giving Missy a quick hug, “so can you.”
Natalie, their friend who ran a summer camp for disadvantaged kids on the northwest end of the island, had adopted four adolescents this past winter before she’d married Jamis. Although Missy preferring a baby or young child made her chances for adoption more difficult, their friend’s success as a single woman had given Missy the first real hope she’d had in years.
Brian came running through the store. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go.”
Missy grabbed her raincoat from the back of the chair by the cash register and held it out toward Sarah. “Why don’t you take my slicker?”
“You’ll need it when you go home.”
“I don’t mind getting wet. Besides, I think it’s supposed to clear up for a while before another band of storms comes through.” As Missy held open the front door to her shop, she took in a deep lungful of air. And frowned.
Something wasn’t right.
She glanced out the windows with a partial view of Lake Superior. Beyond the marina, waves crashed against the breakwater and sprayed into the air. Down the rocky coast, turbulent water hit the shoreline with damaging strength. The clouds in the early evening sky boiled and churned, shifted by an unseen but powerful force.
Sarah shrugged on the rain slicker and glanced at Missy. “You all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” Missy swallowed, trying to compose herself. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then.” Sarah stepped partway through the door and grabbed Brian’s hand. “See you at lunch tomorrow.” Then she took off down the wet sidewalk.
“Bye, Missy!” Brian called as he followed his mom.
“Bye, Bri!” Missy said absently as she watched the flower baskets hanging from the black lampposts swing and sway in the storm. The wind chimes hanging near her gift shop entrance jangled fiercely in a sudden gust, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
Something was in the air out there that had nothing to do with a cleansing rain, or a possible adoption match, or the droves of happy tourists already flocking daily to Mirabelle for long-awaited summer vacations and holidays. This was bitter and acidic. Unexpected. Fierce. And it was blowing Missy’s way.
“YOU TELLING ME I CAN’T GET to Mirabelle Island tonight?” Jonas Abel glared at the clerk on the other side of the locked glass door as lightning flared a short distance down the Lake Superior shoreline.
“That’s not what I said.”
It had been raining most of the day. Jonas’s clothes were damp and cold and clinging to his skin and all he wanted was to be warm and dry. Entirely off the grid was the objective, but at the moment that appeared to be asking for too much.
“It isn’t even eleven yet, and I missed the last ferry?” Jonas grumbled. “What kind of backwoods place is this?” On a few select streets in Chicago, he might’ve gotten away with pointing a gun at the old man’s head, but not in this world.
“See there?” The old man motioned toward the schedule mounted on the outside of the ferry building. “During June, the last ferry to the island leaves Bayfield at 10 p.m. Won’t be another one ’til morning. Now on the weekends, it’s eleven. And during July—”
“I don’t give a damn about July.” He clenched his teeth against the intense pain in his side. “I need to get to Mirabelle tonight.”
“No need to get huffy with me. Can’t wait ’til morning, you can always hire a water taxi.”
A car rolled into the wet parking lot, and Jonas instinctively drew his soggy hood over his head. As the vehicle cruised through a puddle and under the light of a nearby lamppost, he slipped his good hand inside his sweatshirt, gripping his gun, and studied the occupants.
Teenage boy. Girlfriend. In love.
Good luck with that.
He turned back toward the old man. “I need a water taxi.” Leaning against the door frame, he struggled to stay alert. Although it was impossible anyone could’ve followed Jonas here, he’d do best to get out