Janie’s expression faltered a little, “he said you are his wife.”
“Was,” Delaney assured gently.
“You’re more forgiving than I am if you think that’s an adequate excuse for his behavior.”
There was nothing suitable or otherwise that Delaney could say. Janie seemed to realize it. “Where are you staying tonight?” she asked.
The trip to Turnabout had taken longer than Delaney expected. Their flight from New York had been late arriving in San Diego, which meant they’d missed the regular ferry that ran twice a day. She’d had to hire a charter. Which was definitely a glorified term for the rough-riding bucket that had carried her and Alonso from the mainland to the tiny island of Turnabout.
She’d strongly entertained the idea of waiting until morning before finishing the journey. But her desire to get it over with had overridden her common sense. It would’ve been smarter to wait. Then she’d have been assured of a way off the island.
Now, she had a hotel room all reserved in San Diego that was going begging. “I hadn’t planned to stay on Turnabout,” she admitted. She didn’t enjoy being caught unprepared. “Is there a hotel here?”
“Maisy Fielding has an inn. Called Maisy’s Place. She has several guest cottages, too. But she’s full up. I help out there when she’s particularly busy.” Janie lifted an arm, encompassing the crowd. “A lot of people came over to celebrate the first anniversary of Castillo House. But Sam has an extra room,” Janie continued. “Etta does, too, but my father is using it now that he’s home again.”
“Etta?”
“Our grandmother. Henrietta Vega.”
“Right.” Surreal, indeed. Delaney looked around at the partyers. She was aware of Janie watching her closely.
It felt as if everyone was watching her closely. Too closely. She much preferred to focus her attention on others than to have that focus turned the other way around.
Sam had an extra room. Delaney wasn’t so much interested in that as she was interested in what had possessed Sam to say the words he had.
My wife.
What purpose had that served? None. And she wanted to tell him so. She wanted him to understand—fully and completely—that she was no basket case. That she was moving on, just as she’d told him. Thoughtfully, intelligently, dispassionately. What she wanted now were common interests, common goals, a common purpose.
Things she and Sam had never had.
Except in bed.
She ignored the taunting whisper inside her head. The bedroom could break a relationship, but it was rare when it could make one. She and Sam were no exception to that.
“Perhaps you could tell me how to get to his house,” she suggested. She’d tell him what she thought of his little “act” and she’d leave the ring. Once and for all, end of story.
Janie looked clearly relieved. “It’s on the other end of the island, actually. I’ll get Leo’s cart and drive you over.”
“Cart?”
“His golf cart. I don’t have a car. Most of us don’t. But it’s a long walk from here to there.”
Delaney rubbed her forehead. She didn’t have a car, either. Because she lived in the city. The city. The big apple. Born and raised.
“Delaney? Ready?” Janie was eyeing her.
Oh, Delaney was too tired. She nodded. She’d have agreed to just about anything to get away from the curious stares she was still getting.
The golf cart sat outside the high iron fence that surrounded the Castillo House property. Delaney climbed onto the narrow front seat and grabbed on with a death grip when it lurched forward. Janie buzzed down the bumpy road, seemingly unconcerned by the absolute and utter darkness as they left behind the lights of the party.
No matter how dark, the rush of wind through the open cart still felt heavenly against Delaney’s heated skin.
When Janie finally slowed the cart to a halt, it was in front of a sprawling, darkened house. “It doesn’t look like your brother is here.” Probably avoiding her, if for no other reason than to annoy her. He’d always been exceptionally adept in that area.
“Doesn’t matter,” Janie assured as they headed up the stone walk. “It’s probably not locked. But even if it is, I have a key. I take care of his plants whenever he goes to the mainland.”
Sam had plants?
With no hesitation, Janie pushed open the door. “See? Come on in.” She waited in the darkened entrance.
Delaney stepped inside, vaguely aware of holding her breath. The memory of the tiny apartment Sam had lived in before they’d become involved flashed through her mind. It had possessed only the essentials. A bed. A fridge. A dim, cold bathroom. The place had practically been sterile, giving no hint whatsoever of the man who’d occupied it.
Janie flicked a switch, and light streamed downward from deceptively simple iron wall sconces.
She couldn’t help her inhalation of surprise at her first impression of the interior. “Oh. My.”
“Nice, isn’t it?” Janie seemed to be looking at her with some kind of expectation.
“Yes.” She smiled weakly. It was nice. Natural stone. A bronze wall that dripped with the soothing, unexpected sound of water. Plants. Leather furnishings. Nubby rugs over slate. It was full of thriving plants. Palms in the corners. A fern on a small table. It was modern. It was timeless.
It was…Sam?
She felt like rubbing her eyes. She refrained. Coming here had been a mistake. “I should wait for Sam somewhere else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re his wife.”
“Was. I was his wife. And as soon as I have a chance to speak with Sam, I’ll be going.”
Janie looked doubtful. “If you say so. Would have been nice to get to know the woman who stole my big brother’s heart, though.”
“When you meet her, give her my regards.” Silence met her response, and she sighed. Janie had done nothing to earn her sarcastic humor. “Sorry.”
“I think this situation is odd for everyone.” Given the circumstances, there was a surprising lack of judgment in Janie’s voice as she headed into the house, flipping on more light switches as she went. When she came to the kitchen, though, she stopped. “You can wait for Sam here. Make yourself at home. I doubt he will be gone for too long.”
If she were strictly honest with herself, Delaney wasn’t sure if that was a comforting thought, or not. “Thanks, Janie.”
The young woman gave a little sketch of a wave then disappeared up the hallway.
A moment later Delaney heard the soft, solid sound of the door
