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He stacked the last log from the tree he’d cut and dragged an arm covered in wood shavings across his sweaty forehead.

His phone vibrated on the chopping block. He snatched it up and answered on the first ring. “Hey, Uncle T. How’s it going?”

“Hey, Asher. I kind of expected to get your voicemail.”

“Didn’t realize that was a thing with me. Sorry about that.”

“No worries. How’s everything at the ranch?”

“Busy. A storm blew across the island last night. Downed a couple of trees. Unfortunately, one of them landed on Henrietta’s house.”

“She okay?”

“Yes, there’s some damage to her back patio and side porch, but the house is intact.”

His uncle murmured something, then let out a deep sigh. “Be sure to let her know we’ll take care of it. And any damages.”

“Already planned to. I’m sure her insurance company will send out someone to do a property assessment. I can talk to the agent and then remove the tree, if she wants me to. A large limb landed on her porch railing, so I’m going to remove that and repair the porch as well.”

“You’re a good man, Ash.”

With the way Asher and his dad had butted heads through the years, those weren’t words he’d heard too often. So, not sure he truly believed them. If he was a good man, he wouldn’t be hiding on Jonathon Island.

No, he was a coward. Plain and simple.

Asher cleared his throat. “Dani Sullivan came up with a major project to revitalize the island, beginning with repairing and renovating the hotel.”

“I heard something about that. Think she’ll make a go of it?”

“Already has. Plus, she’s pretty persistent. She and Mia Franklin worked with the town council, sold houses for a dollar, and rented storefronts at cheap rates to bring back businesses.”

“You know, I think Eliza mentioned that. Couldn’t believe ole Seb went along with it.”

“He did more than that. He backed his niece and daughter.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard.” Uncle Terry chuckled. “I really didn’t think there was much hope for the island anymore after the hotel fire and pandemic pretty much shut down the businesses.”

“Well, you know how Dani can be about rallying the troops.” Asher ran a hand over his chin and combed chips from his beard. “With that in mind, I wanted to run something by you.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to restore Grandpa’s carriages and revive the carriage tour business.”

His uncle didn’t say anything for a moment. “You?”

“I know I don’t know the business very well, but I’m a fast learner. In my spare time, I can begin stripping the old surrey.”

“Man, that thing’s pretty much ready for the burn pile.”

“I think it can be restored—revive its purpose. The frame’s pretty solid. I can scrape the wheels and repaint the metal. The canopy’s pretty beat-up from age and years of sunshine. I’ll buy a new hard top. The carriages at the livery are newer and just need cleaned up.”

“You’d be investing a lot of time into that old thing. Why?”

Asher lifted a shoulder, then realized his uncle couldn’t see him. “I’m sure I can find some time and put it to good use.”

“You could try picking up a guitar.”

Although his uncle’s words were spoken low and without judgment, that didn’t stop the tightening in Asher’s gut. He squeezed his eyes tightly to blacken out the images that filtered through his head.