passports ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“Dad never does anything.” Meghan had listened to her concerns and gently brushed them aside. “He loves to go to auctions and estate sales and putter in the store, but maybe he’s decided he needs to expand his interests. You know, find a new hobby.”
Caitlin, as usual, had been more direct. “Don’t be such a worrywart, Evie. Dad wants to go fishing, not skydiving. If you see a parachute in the trunk of his car instead of a fishing pole, call me.”
It was easy for her sisters to live their own lives and let their dad live his. Both of them had already moved away from home when Laura McBride had died unexpectedly. Meghan had been a freshman in an out-of-state college, and Caitlin a graduate student in France for a semester abroad. Evie had just turned fourteen and she’d been the only one left to take care of Patrick.
Lord, you’ll take care of Dad, won’t you? Keep him safe and comfortable, just like I would if I were with him? Don’t let that reckless Jacob Cutter try to talk him into doing anything dangerous. And help him remember to change his socks if they get wet.
Patrick had always encouraged her to talk to God, her heavenly Father, as easily and naturally as she talked to him. Some people might think she was crazy to talk to God about wet socks, but Evie figured if God knew when a sparrow fell to the ground, He cared about the details of His children’s lives, too. No matter how small.
She opened her eyes, ready to start the day right. Beach Glass officially opened at ten o’clock, giving her time to weed the garden and go into town to pick up a gallon of milk and some eggs.
She’d just make sure to check the expiration date before she bought them.
Cooper’s Landing was five miles from the antique shop, yet Patrick thought nothing of hopping on a rickety old bicycle and riding it into town. Evie kicked the tire with her toe, and when it wobbled back and forth like a toddler taking those first precious steps, she decided to drive her car instead.
Johnson’s Market stuck to the basics—not bothering to cater to the tourists who used Cooper’s Landing as a brief resting point to fill up their vehicles and stretch their legs a bit.
The sandy stretch of beach, strewn with sculptures of satin-smooth driftwood, drew Evie’s attention when she stepped outside the store with her purchases. Ever since Patrick had moved to what Caitlin referred to as “the end of nowhere,” Evie had been fascinated by Lake Superior. She’d grown up in a suburb of Milwaukee, where the only connection she’d had with water was the local swimming pool. But here, right in front of her eyes, the lake stretched across the horizon in variegated shades of blue. And even though today the water was a comforting shade of indigo, it could change with a turn of the wind.
A glance at her watch told her there was time for a short walk down to the dock. She tucked her groceries into the backseat of her car and headed toward the water. Picking her way down the rocky bank, Evie vaulted over a small ledge of rock and practically fell on top of someone.
“Hey!” A girl rose up from a crouched position. “What do you think you’re…Oh, sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Evie apologized. “I was staring at the water and didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay.” The words came out grudgingly.
She looked to be in the same age range as Evie’s students, so Evie knew better than to take the edge in her tone personally. The girl hugged a sketchbook against her chest, and a metal case on the ground by her feet revealed a rainbow of oil pastels.
“You’re drawing the lake? Or the boat?”
“The lake. The boat’s kind of ugly.”
Evie couldn’t argue with that. The boat tied to the dock was as plain and drab as a cardboard box. And looked about as seaworthy.
“I admire anyone with artistic ability.” Evie held out her hand. “Evangeline McBride. Science geek.”
The girl’s eyes met hers shyly and then she smiled. “My name’s Faith. I’m a jock.”
“What sport?”
Faith shrugged. “You name it.”
“But Lake Superior inspired you, huh?”
“No, I’m being forced. It’s art class.” Faith peeked at the sketch pad and made a face. “It’s terrible.”
Evie knew better than to push. If Faith wanted her to take a look at her drawing, it had to be her idea.
“Okay. Tell me the truth.” Faith suddenly flipped it over for Evie to see.
“It’s…” Evie’s voice trailed off when she saw the gleam of humor in Faith’s eyes. She’d colored the entire page blue. “You captured it perfectly, I’d say. A closeup of the water.”
“Very close up!”
Faith giggled and Evie joined in.
“Faith!”
The voice behind them startled Evie. Her foot slipped on the rocks, sending an avalanche of stones skipping down the bank.
“Hi, Sam.” Faith’s giggle changed to a bored monotone.
Evie looked up and sucked in her breath. The man looming above them blotted out the sun. Evie could tell immediately that he and the girl were related. Both of them had silver-gray eyes and thick, shadow-dark hair. Faith’s eyes were still warm with laughter, but the other pair trained on Evie were as chilly as the water.
“I’m Evie McBride.” She scrambled to her feet to regain her dignity, but it didn’t matter. She barely reached the man’s broad shoulders. “Your daughter and I sort of…bumped…into each other.”
Sam looked from the slender redhead to his niece in disbelief. He’d been looking for Faith for the past hour—so he could ground her for the rest of her life. He was pretty sure he had the authority. Although Faith might not agree. The truth was, they hadn’t been agreeing about much the past few days, and Sam was at the end of his rope. Moodiness he could cope with, but Faith had started to disappear whenever the opportunity presented itself. Like an hour ago.
They’d been staying with Jacob, who’d left early that morning on a fishing trip, and Sam had brought Faith into town with him while he got the Natalie ready to launch. This would be the first time they’d had an opportunity to take the boat out. While he’d checked the engine, his wily niece had pulled another disappearing act.
He hadn’t expected to find her in the company of Patrick McBride’s daughter. The uptight schoolteacher his dad had warned him about. But somehow Jacob had forgotten to mention that Evie McBride was a beautiful uptight schoolteacher.
And he hadn’t expected to hear Faith giggling the way twelve-year-old girls were supposed to giggle. The sound had thrown him off balance. He realized he hadn’t seen Faith smile or heard her laugh for a long time. Too long. Dan’s accident had been like a scalpel—going in deep and removing the laughter from all of them.
“I’m Sam Cutter—”
“He’s my uncle, not my dad,” Faith interrupted.
