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THE RISING WIND blew off the ocean onto Templeton Cove’s promenade and Leah Dixon pulled her jacket closer around her body. Even though it was only September, the weather was already turning typically British. If she hadn’t stopped for a friendly chat with a few of the locals, she would have been home from her shift at the hospital an hour ago.
She looked to the beach and shivered as the first drop of rain spattered her glasses.
No one needed to get caught in one of Templeton’s rainstorms. The Cove and its coastal location meant it was prone to flooding, and when Mother Nature decided to scream her wrath there was little chance of escape for anyone.
Ducking her head, Leah glanced back and forth across the deserted beach as she hurried toward her small cottage just off the main street.
She suddenly drew to an abrupt halt.
Squinting, she walked to the railing. Was that a child out there on her own? It couldn’t be. “Oh, my God.”
Leah sprinted across the beach as the heavens opened, sending down an icy-cold deluge. The little girl, who couldn’t have been any older than six or seven, was throwing rocks into the incoming tide, relaxed and seemingly happy, as though it were a midsummer evening. Her track pants, denim jacket and open sandals would do little to stop her from getting soaked in five minutes flat.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Leah slowed as she came closer, not wanting to frighten her. “What are you doing out here on your own?”
The little girl turned, her dark, curly hair loose about her shoulders, her blue eyes sad. “Hello.”
Was that all this little one had to say to her? Leah swallowed and forced a smile as she surreptitiously looked about them, in search of an adult to whom this gorgeous creature belonged. “Hi, sweetie. Where’s your mum?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you lost?”
“No. I live here.”
“Here?” Leah frowned, fighting the urge to take the little girl’s hand and warm it between her own. “In the Cove?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you don’t know where your mum is?”
“No, she left me and Daddy a long time ago.”
Deeper sadness seeped into the girl’s eyes and Leah’s self-control buckled. She offered her hand. “I see. Well, why don’t you come with me and I’ll help you find your daddy. Or is someone else looking after you?”
“Daddy’s working.” The little girl slipped her hand far too easily, far too trustingly, into Leah’s. “He’s always working. My name’s Daisy James. What’s yours?”
“Leah. Leah Dixon.” She firmly clasped Daisy’s hand and started to lead her back to the promenade steps. “So are you here with someone else while Daddy’s working?”
“No. I came out on my own. I was looking for some friends to play with.”
Leah
