be was what he’d always been—a doting uncle. But lately he found himself wondering if that was enough to keep Faith from drowning in grief. When Dan had been injured, she’d taken a leave of absence from school. Now she was so far behind, the principal had said the only way she could pass to the next grade level was by completing her homework over the summer. What bothered Sam the most was that Faith didn’t seem to care.
“Cutter? Are you related to Jacob Cutter?”
“I’m his son.” Sam noticed the instant change in Evie’s expression.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Sure it was. Jacob hadn’t been kidding. Evie McBride didn’t approve of him. He wondered why. “Dad mentioned you’re minding the store while he and Patrick are fishing.”
“I don’t know a lot about antiques, but I do know how to dust them.” She glanced down at Faith and winked.
Faith grinned back.
Maybe Ms. McBride came across as a little stuffy, but she definitely had a way with kids.
“Faith, are you ready? We should be long gone by now.” Sam stared his niece down, not ready to let her off the hook for disappearing on him.
Faith shifted uncomfortably and he saw a flash of good old-fashioned guilt in her eyes. Good.
“Are you house-sitting for your dad?” Evie directed the question at him, her voice polite but strained.
Sam suppressed a smile. With that tone, she sounded just like a prim schoolteacher. All she needed was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and a bun. They’d go really well with the heavy cardigan she had buttoned up to her chin and the ankle-length denim skirt.
“We’re staying on the Natalie.” Faith pointed to the boat nodding drowsily in the waves.
“You’re living on that?”
Sam bristled at what sounded like an accusation. It scraped against the doubts he was already having about bringing Faith along. So the Natalie wasn’t the best-looking boat in the harbor. And maybe she didn’t have all the latest bells and whistles. But he’d checked her over, and she was sturdy. The engine had purred like a kitten before settling into a reliable, even hum.
“A few days on the water and a few days at the cabin.” Sam lifted one eyebrow, daring her to comment.
Evie McBride’s chin lifted, accepting his challenge. “I don’t think—”
“You should come with us sometime,” Faith broke in, leaving both adults momentarily speechless.
“That’s sweet of you, Faith, but…” Evie turned and stared, almost mesmerized, at the water. “Beach Glass is going to keep me pretty busy over the next few weeks.”
She was afraid of the water, Sam realized in surprise. His gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt, where the toes of a sensible pair of shoes peeked out. Not exactly the type of footwear designed for splashing in the surf. He hid another smile.
“I should get going, too. The shop opens at ten.” Evie’s expression softened when she looked at Faith. “Be careful when you’re out on the lake.”
Sam expected Faith to give Evie her signature don’t-fuss-over-me-I’m-not-a-little-kid-anymore look, but his niece nodded solemnly.
“Sam knows what he’s doing.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open at the confidence he heard in her voice. Before he had a chance to bask in the glow, she skipped down the rocks toward the dock. “I can’t keep up with her.”
He realized he’d said the words out loud when he felt Evie touch his arm. The warmth of her fingers soaked into his skin. When he glanced down at her, he saw a knowing look in her eyes.
“Don’t try to keep up with her.” Evie smiled. A genuine smile that sparkled like sunlight dancing on the water and had a curious effect on his pulse. For the first time, he noticed a dusting of cinnamon freckles on her nose. “The secret is to stay one step ahead of her.”
On the way back to the cottage, Evie couldn’t stop thinking about Faith Cutter. And Sam. Although she didn’t want to think about him. Anyone who would take a child out in a boat on a lake as unpredictable as Superior for any length of time had to be a live-on-the-edge type of person. And in the end, that kind of person always hurt the ones closest to them, whether they meant to or not.
Just like her mother.
Growing up, Evie had loved hearing the story of her parents’ romantic courtship. Her father and mother had met in the principal’s office of the local high school. Patrick had been a first-year English teacher and Laura McIntyre—Officer Laura McIntyre—had been invited to talk to the students for career day. The principal had asked Patrick to give Laura a tour of the school before the assembly started.
They’d married six months later.
Growing up, Evie had been blissfully unaware of the dangers of her mother’s career. By the time Evie was in middle school, Laura had been promoted to sergeant and spent the bulk of her time at a desk, scheduling shifts and taking complaints.
And then one day, Laura hadn’t come home on time. Evie could still see the look on her father’s face when the squad car pulled into the driveway and the chief of police had walked up to the front door.
Laura had been struck and killed by a drunk driver while assisting a stranded motorist.
Patrick’s strong faith had never wavered, and he’d appealed to his daughters to lean on God, not blame Him for Laura’s death. But in the following months as her family handled their grief in different ways, Evie had struggled with a growing realization. It wasn’t God she was angry with. It was her mother, for choosing a career that had put her at risk.
Chapter Three
Evie’s first customers of the day turned out to be newlyweds who spent more time exchanging loving glances than they did browsing through the aisles.
She felt a stab of envy as she watched the young man press a lingering kiss to his bride’s cheek. The young woman, who didn’t look much older than Evie, blushed and halfheartedly pushed him away. Evie pretended she hadn’t seen the kiss. There were times she asked God why He was waiting so long to bring her future mate into her life. She liked to think God was working on a certain man’s heart, making sure he was just right for her so when they met, she’d recognize him at a glance….
Sam Cutter’s face flashed in her mind, and Evie fumbled the ironstone pitcher she’d been dusting. Fortunately, she caught it again before it hit the ground. Sam Cutter! Not likely. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Personable. In fact, she’d sensed he’d found her…amusing. She hadn’t missed his quick, appraising glance when she’d stood up. Or the half smile on his face when his silver gaze had lingered on her wool cardigan. It was chilly by the shore. Not everyone had an internal thermostat that made them comfortable wearing a T-shirt on a cool day.
Which brought to mind the tanned, muscular arms his T-shirt had revealed…
“Ah, Miss?”
The bride’s tentative question
