would stop a rampaging gator.
“Please, Leigh.” Jamie found her voice again. “I didn’t mean to interfere, but if you’ll just listen to Daniel…”
“She might if we gave her a chance.” Josh took Jamie firmly by the arm, urging her from the chair, and sent an apologetic glance toward Leigh. “Why don’t the two of you go out on the deck.” He piloted Jamie toward the living room. “You can have a little privacy there.”
Daniel waited until they were out of the room, then held the kitchen door for her. He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Please?”
Leigh knew when she’d been outmaneuvered. There was nothing for it now but to listen to what the man had to say. Then she could tell him no in the most sympathetic way possible. She nodded stiffly and walked past him onto the deck.
Daniel followed her, letting the screen door swing closed. It shut the two of them into the quiet dark together.
She half expected him to plunge into speech, but he didn’t. He crossed the deck, leaned his elbows on the railing and looked out across the salt marsh that stretched beyond the house to the tidal creek.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Unwillingly, she joined him, trying to frame the words she’d use to tell him no.
The nearly full moon sent pale light streaming across the patchwork of water, sand and grass. Impossible to tell where the dividing line was between solid ground and liquid mud. Sounds reached them, a rustle, a splash, the cry of some night creature. Leigh shivered.
“Beautiful and dangerous,” she murmured.
“Yes.” He turned toward her, and the light from the kitchen window struck his face. It showed her one side—strong bones, stubborn jaw, well-shaped mouth—and left the other in shadow. “Look, I…there’s something I want to say to you.”
Leigh braced herself for the demand she knew was coming. She couldn’t…couldn’t…say yes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “And thank you.”
She blinked. “What?” Where was the offer she’d steeled herself to turn down?
“Thank you,” he said again. His smile flashed, setting her skin tingling. The man’s smile should come with a warning label. “For finding Sarah today, for being so good with her when she must have been scared to death. Thank you, Leigh.”
The quiet words seemed to resonate, to carry more meaning than they should.
“It was…I mean, anyone would have done the same.”
His jaw tightened. “I wasn’t there for her. You were.”
Now the pain beneath the words slid into view, like a creature surfacing in the marsh, and she didn’t know how to respond. She suspected he wasn’t a man who let his private pain be seen easily.
“We can’t always be there for the people we love.” Her mind flashed uneasily to Tommy, to her own failure, then shied away. “No matter how much we want to.”
“No matter how much.” He repeated her words. The shadows of the salt marsh moved fitfully as a cloud crossed the moon. “I guess that’s my only excuse for putting you on the spot this afternoon. Pushing you to help with Sarah in front of your niece and nephew. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She could smile at it now. “They were pretty tough to get away from. It’s okay.”
“Now I’ve done it again.” He gestured toward the house, his expression rueful. “Involved your family. I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Jamie called you, didn’t she?” A small flame of anger warmed the words.
“Don’t blame her.” His lips twitched slightly. “Elder sisters and brothers are what they are. Believe me, I know.”
“You have one?”
“I was one. The eldest, I mean.”
Something darkened in his eyes at that, and she sensed inquires about his family wouldn’t be welcome.
“I was coming to see you. Her call didn’t change anything.”
She wanted to argue, to say that Jamie had no right butting into her affairs, but that would probably make her sound about ten years old.
When she didn’t respond he turned back to the rail, where he leaned on his elbows. She seemed to have little choice but to do the same.
For a few moments they stood in silence, looking out at the moonlit marsh. Maybe he was concentrating on the view. She was too aware of the lean strength of his arm brushing hers, of the warmth that radiated from him.
“So,” he said finally, interrupting a chorus of frogs, “you like your job?”
The smell of grease from her clothes and hair made it impossible to say anything but the truth. “Not especially. But it’s only temporary. So I have some money coming in while I look for something else.”
She was digging herself into a hole. She waited for him to ask why she was looking for a job and wondered what she’d say when he did. But he didn’t.
“Guess that’s kind of where I am, too. Caught in a situation I don’t like.”
She glanced at him, but the strong lines of his face didn’t give anything away. “You mean Sarah?”
He braced both hands against the rail. “I don’t regret anything about having my daughter.”
“No, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s this way.” He turned toward her with sudden energy, as if he’d made a decision. “You know about the new bridge they’re building?”
The abrupt change of subject left her floundering. “Bridge?”
“Bridge from Athena Island,” he said, naming the vacation mecca from which ferries ran to tiny St. Joseph’s. “They’ve talked about building one for years, but now it’s really going to happen. When it does, I have to be ready for it.”
“Ready?” She felt like a parrot.
“I own beachfront property,” he said, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Right now I just have a lodge—rent a few rooms to fishermen, the occasional tourist.”
“But when the bridge is built…” She was finally beginning to catch up.
“The bridge will bring tourists, and tourists want beachfront rooms. That’s what I’m doing. Building an addition that will double the number of rooms I have.”
Somehow that was the last thing she’d expected. She’d assumed, if she’d thought about it at all, that Daniel was probably a fisherman, like Josh. He had a rugged look she associated with working outdoors.
“So,” she said, trying to adjust her image of him, “you’re going to be the
