“Bye,” Willa mumbled around the bite she’d just taken.
He merely waved.
Perhaps Sean had misjudged the stranger. In all sincerity, he was obviously a local and friendly with the townspeople. The exchange he’d had with Willa had been...harmless. He was just making casual conversation. Wasn’t he?
As she and Willa wandered the pier filled with locals and tourists fishing along the sides, Sean felt the stranger’s eyes on her. She’d been so...aware of him. Of his presence looming beside her. Yet she hadn’t felt that threat of fear that usually accompanied her initial internal terror. The vendor had seemed to like him. And, for that matter, so had Willa. Still, Sean and her daughter were not locals. They were summer tourists. She had zero plans to get to know anyone on a personal level.
But when Sean turned, the stranger wasn’t lurking and staring at her, as she’d thought. He was gone, and Hendrik had a new set of customers at his cart.
That probably wouldn’t be the last she saw of the stranger, though. This was a small island. They couldn’t stay cooped up in their river house all summer long. And despite her repeated warnings to Willa, her opinionated daughter would undoubtedly make some sort of conversation with the stranger. Who, while somewhat reserved, would converse back. If not him, another stranger. Willa was...verbose in the most charming of ways, to say the very least. People couldn’t help but engage with her. It was nearly unavoidable. But Sean would again try to caution her daughter.
“Willa, sweetie,” she began, as they walked. The sun’s rays warmed her bare arms and legs, and made Willa’s hair shine. “You can’t just talk to any and everybody. You never know who a person really is.”
Willa’s tongue darted out to catch a glob of ketchup on her chin. “That’s why you talk to people, Mama. Then you know who they really are.”
Sean sighed. Willa was too smart for her own good sometimes. “I mean,” she began again, “you never know about people. Sometimes, they could be... I don’t know. Hiding something.”
Willa squinted as she looked at her. “You mean, like hiding candy in their pocket?”
Sean shook her head. They reached the end of the pier. “No, honey. Like...that man you were chatting with. He could be, I don’t know. A stalker!” She knelt down to look Willa eye-to-eye. “He probably isn’t, but that’s the thing. You never know. So you have to be really, really careful about who you talk to. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Willa said slowly. She turned to the water then, chewing on her hot dog, and by the quizzical expression on her face, Willa was turning everything Sean had said over and over in her mind.
Sean could only hope her daughter retained some of her advice.
* * *
A FEW DAYS later Sean and Willa drove into the next town—over the marsh, past the Coast Guard station and over the drawbridge—to shop at the larger grocery store. Sean wanted to stock up so she wouldn’t have to make another trip in for at least a month. Since it was just her and Willa, they didn’t need a lot, but still—certain foods disappeared fast. They walked in through the automatic doors, a blast of cold air greeting them, and Willa raced straight to the produce section. There weren’t too many people in the store, which was fine with Sean. She and Willa mulled over a large display of peaches.
“What, no fairy wings?” a husky voice said from behind her.
Startled, Sean turned, and there he was again. The ponytailed, bearded stranger with a killer smile and a taste for stinky onions. For the first time she noticed his stunning eyes, which, until now, had always been covered by a pair of aviator sunglasses. His eyes were a stormy sea green and filled with caution. And a little amusement. Maybe even curiosity. They seemed honest, those eyes. That much, she could tell.
Willa looked up from her peach selecting. “Mama has to wash them on account that she says they smell funny. She says you’re a stalker.”
Sean muttered under her breath, then flashed the man a nervous smile. Mortification struck Sean at Willa’s inadvertent tattletale of their previous conversation. But what if he really was a stalker? She didn’t know the first thing about him, other than he was a runner who ate hot dogs. “Sorry, we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“That’s right, a big giant hurry,” Willa added. “We are having a picnic at the end of the dock tonight.” She sniffed a peach. “Mama says we’re dining alfresco. With the dolphins.”
The man’s gaze moved over Sean’s face. He seemed to study her for a moment, intense and inquisitive. “I see. Well, then,” he drawled, “I don’t want to keep you. You two ladies have a good day.”
Sean watched him walk away, pushing a grocery cart, a very male and slightly bowlegged swagger. She noticed he never lingered too long. He said what it was he wanted to say then left. He had noticed their fairy wings, though. Sean pondered that as he wandered down an aisle and out of sight.
Who wouldn’t notice the fairy wings? Maybe she was spending way too much time wondering about it. Quickly, she and Willa picked out their fruits and vegetables. As luck would have it, once they started wandering the aisles, they ran into him again and again. He’d smile each time, give a slight nod, but didn’t say another word. Only watched with those mysterious eyes.
Perhaps he hadn’t liked the fact that she’d warned her daughter he could be a stalker.
Stalkers, though, came in many forms. Many shapes and sizes. Including handsome islanders. They could be poor, or filthy rich. They could have dazzling smiles, kind sea-green eyes or piercing blue ones. They could even have extra-butter movie popcorn in their grocery carts. Or a gallon of chocolate milk. Danger knew no boundaries. It was not prejudiced, either.
Yet, he hadn’t taken a threatening stance. Hadn’t stared too long, or made any comments or gestures that had truly made her uncomfortable. Had he?
Still, one could never be too cautious. And she wasn’t taking any more chances. She’d made that mistake in the past. Never again. Willa was all she had, and she’d keep her safe at all costs.
Even if the stranger really, truly didn’t seem all that dangerous.
Once Sean and Willa reached the river house, unloaded all the groceries and put them away then did their daily reading lesson, Willa watched cartoons while Sean started their dinner. They’d decided on meat loaf, mashed potatoes and peas. After mixing the meat, spices, egg, milk and bread crumbs, Sean shaped the loaf, placed it in one of the new pans they’d purchased and popped it in the oven. She’d started peeling the potatoes when a sudden knock sounded at the door.
They’ve found us!
Panic flashed through her, and she dropped a potato on the floor.
“I’ll get it!” Willa cried out, running to the front door.
“Willa, no!” Sean called out, but too late. Willa had the door open.
And there stood the stranger with startling green eyes.
“Mama! It’s the stalker! How did you know where we lived?” Willa asked him.
He eyed Sean over Willa’s head then looked at her daughter with a serious expression, drawing sun-bleached eyebrows together. “I’m your neighbor,” he said, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I live up the river a ways.”
“That was you on the shrimping boat,” Sean stated, rather than asked. She felt a bit foolish now, when she reflected on her immediate reaction when she’d first seen him on the boat. Drug runners or some other kind of criminal. She and Willa had been sitting on the dock, their toes in the warm salt water, when the big boat appeared around the bend. Fight or flight was her immediate response, and she’d chosen to fly. She’d expected...something else. Not a shrimp fisherman.
He