Anna Stewart - Safe In His Arms

“Good to know.”

Phoebe inched closer to him at the mention of school. Hunter laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, their silent sign that he understood and she could relax.

“And, because I expect you’ll be repeat customers, here you go, Phoebe. Your very own Cat’s Eye book bag.” Sebastian placed a few of her books into the drawstring bag, then stepped around the counter to help her slip it on like a backpack. “You bring this with you whenever you come in, okay?”

She nodded so hard she almost tipped over. “Thank you.”

Hunter felt a burst of happiness at Phoebe responding without prompting. She must have decided that Cat’s Eye Books was a safe place.

“You sure I can’t interest you in a cat?” Sebastian asked. “Or maybe two? Two is always better so they each have a companion. I’m sure Chuck is around here—”

“Nice try.” Hunter chuckled and purposely did his best not to look anywhere near Phoebe. A pet might be a good idea, but maybe something smaller. Like a goldfish. “Appreciate your help. And the information. I’ll be in touch about talking to you and Frankie and her brother. I bet you guys can give me some insights into this town few others can.”

“Count on it.”

Hunter held out his free hand once they were back outside. “Well, Phoebs. I have to say that’s the most fun bookstore I’ve ever been to.”

People roamed the street, darting across the road toward the beach. Seagulls cawed in the distance as the scent of briny seaweed coated the air.

“I’d say we’ve had a good first day in Butterfly Harbor. How do you want to finish it? The beach or...”

“Ice cream!” Phoebe tugged hard on his hand and pulled him to the next shop. Harbor Creamery.

“You sure?” Hunter feigned disbelief. “I don’t know. You had a big lunch.”

Phoebe scrunched her face, dragged him closer and jabbed a finger against the menu displayed in the window.

“Oh, they have kiddie scoops.” They also had gelato, which Phoebe pointed to next. Even at seven, she knew his weakness. “Okay, one scoop. But that means broccoli with dinner.”

Phoebe shrugged and led the way inside.

IF KENDALL WAS LUCKY, and had Frankie’s help, she’d get the scaffold erected on the west side of the lighthouse this week. She had a lot of painting to do. As the sun began to dip for the day, Kendall gathered up her tools, stashed them in the rebuilt shed and pulled down her makeshift workstation. Kids got into everything, and the last thing she wanted was anything enticing Hunter’s niece. Hopefully school would keep Phoebe occupied and away from...her.

She didn’t need, didn’t want, a daily reminder of little-girl needs and wants. That everything and anything that went wrong with the world could be solved with a mother’s hug.

She wasn’t a mother, though, Kendall reminded herself. She’d quit that dream when she’d lost Sam. She’d only come close when she’d all but adopted Samira and her family in Afghanistan.

Samira’s father was a translator, looking after his two sons and daughter along with his late wife’s parents. Samira, at ten, had become a bit of a caretaker, always helping her father. But she’d loved soccer. And soon, she and Kendall had a standing practice session that gave both of them something to look forward to.

“Stop it.” Kendall lugged one of her sawhorses back into the keeper’s house when Hunter’s and Phoebe’s bike tires crunched on the dirt and gravel road. Their bike baskets were filled to overflowing, and Kendall noticed Phoebe was wearing a familiar amber backpack. Obviously they’d found their way to Cat’s Eye Books.

Apprehension tugged at Kendall’s stomach as she quickened her pace in the hopes of finishing for the day before Hunter thought to...

“Hello.” Hunter steered his bike to the lighthouse rather than the carriage house and dismounted with that now familiar, friendly, if not quirky grin on his too-handsome face. He engaged the kickstand and plucked a small paper bag out of the front basket.

Because she wasn’t a complete curmudgeon yet, she gave him a quick chin jerk. “Hi.” She pushed the air out of her lungs to dispel the cloud of melancholy.

“This is for you.” Hunter offered her the bag.

She blinked at the bag as if it were filled with snakes. “Why? What for?”

“A peace offering of sorts. And a thank-you. For sharing this with us.” He motioned to the view of the ocean alight with the flame of the sunset.

Kendall needed him to understand she was not up for any social interaction where he or just about anyone was concerned. She shrugged and turned away. “Not necessary. This wasn’t my choice.” And the man whose choice it was had been dodging her all day long.

If anything, her refusal seemed to encourage him. Hunter darted over, stepping in front of her before she reached her door. “It would be rude not to accept. And even though you’re trying your best, I don’t think you’re inherently rude.”

Kendall shot him a humorless smile. “Guess again.”

“I know we’re intruding.” He tried again and moved between her and the refuge she sought. “And if you’re like most people, you don’t like change. But change happens. And we’re here. We need to find a way to get along. If not for each other, certainly for Phoebe. She’s been through enough this year. I don’t want her being scared of the person we live next door to.”

Kendall resisted the pull to look over her shoulder. She would not look. She would not... She glanced back to where Phoebe stood astride her bike, tiny hands clutching the handlebars with white-knuckled uncertainty.

Stiffening her spine, bracing herself, Kendall faced Hunter again, opening her mouth to argue. But when she found herself looking into determined eyes, she saw the one thing she knew she could lose to: a father’s resolve.

Her heart nearly seized. “I like my solitude.” Like? More like she needed it as much as she needed air to breathe and water to drink. Small doses of interaction were fine. Doses of her choosing, but knowing this man and his little girl were steps away from the one place she’d been able to feel free again? Why was the universe playing with her again? “She doesn’t have to be scared. I might not be here much longer, anyway.” It was the first time she’d considered it, dropping everything and leaving town. But avoiding Hunter and Phoebe might be the simpler solution.

“Oh.” He looked surprised at that tidbit of information. “Well, for as long as you are here, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t glower at her.”

Kendall frowned. “Glower? I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.” Something akin to guilt wrapped itself around her.

“Prove it. Accept this from us, please.” He lifted the bag again. “We guessed. Phoebe did, anyway, at the flavor. At least pretend to appreciate it.”

Kendall accepted the package, peeking inside. If she’d had a heart left to break, it might have shattered into a million pieces. “Strawberry.” The tears came, even after all this time. “Thank you,” she finally managed. At his arched brow, she took a deep breath, glared back. Then turned to Phoebe. “Thank you, Phoebe.”

Phoebe’s mouth curved up at the corners before she climbed off her bike and steered it toward the guest house.

“Thank you,” Hunter said. “Have a good evening.”

Kendall nodded, because she couldn’t speak. She waited until she heard the door close behind him before she hauled the sawhorse into the house, set the bag on the table and finished cleaning up outside. When she literally had nothing left to distract herself with, she went inside and dropped the bag of ice cream into the sink.