phone. Danae didn’t believe in ghosts for a minute, but she did believe someone was in the house—someone that Alaina had probably misconstrued to be a ghost. It was easy to understand why. Danae didn’t feel comfortable in the house during the bright light of day. She couldn’t fathom spending nights there alone.
Her sister had some serious backbone.
Danae smiled, happy in the knowledge that her sister was such a strong woman. Danae admired and respected strong women and was happy that she wouldn’t have to pretend to like some shrinking violet.
But as she studied her cell phone, her smile turned to a frown. No service. She should have figured. With the storm brewing overhead, reception in the swamp would be sketchy to nonexistent. She put the phone down and tapped the counter with her short fingernails until the clicking noise irritated her enough to stop.
She could drive into town and see if her cell phone could get service there. And although Johnny wasn’t thrilled that she’d quit her job at the café, he’d allow her to use his landline to call Boston and pay him the charges when the bill came.
But to what end? Did she really think Alaina had the answers? Surely not, or she would have already shared them with Carter and William.
You want to feel close to her.
The thought ripped through her mind and she clenched the counter, that reality such a stark contrast to the rest of her twenty-seven years. She’d deliberately avoided creating lasting relationships. It hadn’t been hard. Most people she’d come across couldn’t be trusted anyway. But now, with Alaina, Carter and William, she’d found herself struggling to keep her guard up, while her heart pushed back, wanting to trust, wanting to attach.
She’d never realized how lonely she was until now. Until she’d met people she could be herself with. People who cared about her and would protect her.
A single tear fell from her eye and slid down her cheek.
Was this really the start of a normal life, with friends and family? She was scared to even dare and hope. Those desires had been pushed so far back for so long, she hadn’t even realized they were still inside her.
She stared out the tiny kitchen window into the tangle of swamp that encircled the tiny cabin and sighed. What she needed was a long soak in the tub, a glass of wine and to get her head on straight. Her past was full of more difficult situations than this.
One randy contractor, a fake ghost and an unlocked door were not going to prevent her from gaining the life she’d always craved.
Chapter Seven
Zach parked his truck in front of the café and strode inside, still frustrated over the way his evening had gone. After checking the doors, Danae had insisted they clear out of the house for the day. Unable to formulate a good argument for insisting she stay when she was clearly distressed, he’d simply agreed and watched as she locked up the house and drove away.
He’d had no opportunity to finish his work on the window, so that one nail still held it fast in place. Tomorrow, he’d bring his crowbar and make quick work of it as soon as he had the opportunity, but that left him with a long night of nothing stretching in front of him.
Before his dad’s death, he’d always prided himself on his patience. The intricate carpentry work he did required tons of it, as did dealing with frustrating clients that changed their minds every other day. But ever since his dad’s funeral, he’d been unable to focus on his work—unable to stop the feeling of dread that flowed through him when he wondered what his dad had hidden from him.
Now he was in Calais, working at Ophelia’s house. But, at that moment, he was just as far away from answers as he had been in New Orleans.
Sighing, he took a seat on a stool at the empty counter. Every table save one was occupied and the volume in the small building was fairly loud and cheerful. All around him, people relaxed and shared their day with
Her sister had some serious backbone.
Danae smiled, happy in the knowledge that her sister was such a strong woman. Danae admired and respected strong women and was happy that she wouldn’t have to pretend to like some shrinking violet.
But as she studied her cell phone, her smile turned to a frown. No service. She should have figured. With the storm brewing overhead, reception in the swamp would be sketchy to nonexistent. She put the phone down and tapped the counter with her short fingernails until the clicking noise irritated her enough to stop.
She could drive into town and see if her cell phone could get service there. And although Johnny wasn’t thrilled that she’d quit her job at the café, he’d allow her to use his landline to call Boston and pay him the charges when the bill came.
But to what end? Did she really think Alaina had the answers? Surely not, or she would have already shared them with Carter and William.
You want to feel close to her.
The thought ripped through her mind and she clenched the counter, that reality such a stark contrast to the rest of her twenty-seven years. She’d deliberately avoided creating lasting relationships. It hadn’t been hard. Most people she’d come across couldn’t be trusted anyway. But now, with Alaina, Carter and William, she’d found herself struggling to keep her guard up, while her heart pushed back, wanting to trust, wanting to attach.
She’d never realized how lonely she was until now. Until she’d met people she could be herself with. People who cared about her and would protect her.
A single tear fell from her eye and slid down her cheek.
Was this really the start of a normal life, with friends and family? She was scared to even dare and hope. Those desires had been pushed so far back for so long, she hadn’t even realized they were still inside her.
She stared out the tiny kitchen window into the tangle of swamp that encircled the tiny cabin and sighed. What she needed was a long soak in the tub, a glass of wine and to get her head on straight. Her past was full of more difficult situations than this.
One randy contractor, a fake ghost and an unlocked door were not going to prevent her from gaining the life she’d always craved.
Chapter Seven
Zach parked his truck in front of the café and strode inside, still frustrated over the way his evening had gone. After checking the doors, Danae had insisted they clear out of the house for the day. Unable to formulate a good argument for insisting she stay when she was clearly distressed, he’d simply agreed and watched as she locked up the house and drove away.
He’d had no opportunity to finish his work on the window, so that one nail still held it fast in place. Tomorrow, he’d bring his crowbar and make quick work of it as soon as he had the opportunity, but that left him with a long night of nothing stretching in front of him.
Before his dad’s death, he’d always prided himself on his patience. The intricate carpentry work he did required tons of it, as did dealing with frustrating clients that changed their minds every other day. But ever since his dad’s funeral, he’d been unable to focus on his work—unable to stop the feeling of dread that flowed through him when he wondered what his dad had hidden from him.
Now he was in Calais, working at Ophelia’s house. But, at that moment, he was just as far away from answers as he had been in New Orleans.
Sighing, he took a seat on a stool at the empty counter. Every table save one was occupied and the volume in the small building was fairly loud and cheerful. All around him, people relaxed and shared their day with
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