confirming their conversation about a second child wasn’t a figment of her imagination. In fact, her desire to have another baby was why he considered it imperative to own up to what had happened. He’d fallen in love with Carla, a colleague at the insurance company where he worked as an actuary. He was sorry, he’d said. So sorry.
Right.
Dawn had descended into crushing grief, but ultimately worked through it and moved on with a vengeance, starting with her business. In the first twelve months of living as a single mom, she’d doubled her business income. In the second twelve months, she’d begun dating. Mixed results for sure, including with Chip, the man she’d hoped could be her second chance. At first, he’d claimed to be enthusiastic about having a child if their relationship blossomed, but he showed zero interest in Gordon. Not exactly stepdad material. She’d collected all the warning signs she needed, but it still hurt to give up on what at the beginning seemed like a promising relationship.
Sitting alone in the waiting room at the train station, she tried mightily to ignore those thoughts. For all her so-called adjustment to life after her difficult divorce, Dawn hadn’t allowed herself to think that Bill and Carla would have a baby of their own. Why had that been so difficult to accept?
As if she didn’t know.
Carla was living the life she’d wanted—expected—for herself. That was the heartbreaking truth. It was as if an imposter had stepped in and taken over Dawn’s life.
Tired of sitting, she stood and slung the attaché over her shoulder and left the waiting room. Still an hour to go. She needed to move, walk, observe, absorb. She wouldn’t lift her mood sitting alone, thinking about little teething Zinnie.
HOLDING CARRIE’S HAND, Jerrod pointed to the boat tied up at the dock on the blustery April day. “See? Rob and Wyatt got here safe and sound.”
The two waved at Carrie from the stern of the Lucy Bee. Jerrod greeted Nelson White, the owner of the boatyard-marina, who he’d dealt with on the phone over a period of several weeks. Nelson stood at the end of the dock dressed for winter in a knit hat and heavy gloves. So far, Dawn’s weather prediction for the week had played out exactly as she’d described: cold and mostly rainy. Count on miserable, she’d warned Jerrod the day before he drove up and checked into the hotel. In his texted reply he’d teased her about being a meteorologist on the side. He enjoyed teasing her, maybe because she laughed so easily at even his lame remarks.
Nelson pointed to the Lucy Bee, a seventy-foot passenger ferry designed to take guests out on day tours along the coast and to the sites of wrecks. “Nice-looking,” he said. “We don’t have nearly enough of these excursion boats down our way. Most of them cluster up a little north of us in Sturgeon Bay. I’m glad to see you set up shop here in Two Moon Bay.”
Jerrod nodded, pleased at Nelson’s response. Lucy Bee had started her life as a ferry and later was converted to a tour boat on the Mississippi, but Jerrod liked to think he was giving the vessel a third incarnation on Lake Michigan. Rob suggested changing the boat’s name to something more distinguished, maybe, but Jerrod had nixed that idea. He didn’t consider himself a superstitious man, but as far back as he could remember he’d been warned that changing the name of a boat was asking for trouble. He couldn’t shake the notion that boats of any kind were alive in their way. That meant the Lucy Bee started her life with a name of her own, and that’s how it should stay.
“I’m eager to get the business moving,” Jerrod said, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head to ward off the rising wind. At least the rain had stopped for the moment.
Nelson motioned with his chin at the water. “All well and good, but you still have a few weeks before it’s fit to take people out there. It’s only April, man. It can be raw up here even in May. Most folks won’t put their boats in the water ’til close to Memorial Day.”
“I know. Dawn Larsen, who’s doing some promotion for me, warned me that the weather can be iffy all the way to Memorial Day and into June.” At Dawn’s suggestion, Jerrod was adding an all-caps line to his brochure about bringing along jackets and hats. Dawn suggested taking one more step and keeping a backup supply of sweatshirts and caps in a storage bin.
Nelson gestured to the empty space behind the tour boat. “When we get your dive boat in the water this afternoon, we’ll dock her right there. You’ll have easy-on, easy-off for both boats. You need anything, you know where to find me.”
Jerrod had the feeling Nelson would be as good as his word. Something about the down-to-earth guy reminded him of people he’d grown up with.
“Rob, Wyatt!” Carrie shouted. “I’m going to a new school.”
“So I heard,” Rob called back in a loud voice. “Very exciting, Miss Carrie.”
Her giggles instantly turned Jerrod’s heart to butter. Rob and Wyatt called her Miss Carrie precisely because it brought on her little-girl laughter. But then, he’d been able to count on his two younger crew, both not much over thirty. They’d been with him through these last years, the darkest time of his life. Wyatt, in particular, had used her business savvy to patch together a viable, if scaled-down version of Adventure Dives & Water Tours when Jerrod barely cared anymore. Rob made sure their equipment stayed top-of-the-line and their boats in good repair. The two had been the glue that held the operation together. Even more important, they acted like older siblings or aunt and uncle to Carrie, who had lost her big sister when she was too young to understand why.
Jerrod was suddenly conscious of Rob looking past him and down the dock. Pivoting on his heel, he saw Dawn coming toward him, dressed in practical jeans, a jacket and sneakers. But she had that large handbag slung over her shoulder, looking like a woman on a mission—an organized mission at that. They’d been in touch by email and text throughout the week, sending a letter of agreement and priority lists back and forth. Watching her shade her eyes as she approached, looking beyond him to the boat, he once again had the strong feeling he’d found exactly who he needed to help him launch this phase of his business. He’d had a specialty food basket sent to Kym as his way to say thanks.
Although Dawn hadn’t yet been formally introduced to his crew, she waved at Rob and Wyatt. Jerrod would handle the social rituals later, but he couldn’t help but notice the way Rob stared at her. Even from a distance he was certain her distinctive reddish blonde curly hair had caught Rob’s eye. And his crew member didn’t even know Dawn had the clearest light brown eyes he’d ever seen. Or maybe her eyes were green. He couldn’t be sure, but they were unusual—and, he’d learned, unforgettable.
Throughout their initial meeting, Jerrod had tried not to focus too much on Dawn’s natural beauty, but even her teal blue reading glasses added to her unique look. All week he’d made a studied effort not to be too eager for their next meeting. Knowing she was single wasn’t helping that effort, but even hinting that he found her attractive was out of the question. To a T, he fit the description of what many women feared: unavailable. In every way. It hadn’t been that long since he’d become a fully present dad again to his little girl.
“Hey, Nelson,” Dawn said, playfully elbowing the boatyard owner. “How are you doing? I haven’t run into you in a long time.”
“Good, good. So, you’re part of the welcome wagon,” Nelson observed.
“I am, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me down here at the docks.”
“Oh,
