Page 19

Was I just a kid playing at understanding what it meant to build a life? Wes kissed me under the stars, and I immediately started fantasizing about family dinners—like I was scripting some romantic comedy where love conquered all and age was just a number.

What did I know about love that lasted longer than a semester? Wes had thirteen years on me—thirteen years of loss and disappointment that had driven him to build something stable from the wreckage of his dreams.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. In ten years, would I still love the quiet here—or would I be aching for the noise of the mainland? Would Wes look at me one morning and see just another boy who mistook longing for wisdom?

A sharp knock on the front door interrupted my spiral. My phone lay face-down and buzzing with ignored messages. The sound came again, more insistent this time, followed by a cheerful "Hello? Anyone home?"

In the entire time I'd been at Wes's cottage, no one had knocked on the door. The cottage sat at the end of a winding path that led nowhere else, invisible from the main trail unless you knew where to look.

The knock came a third time, accompanied by a woman's voice. "Hi there! I'm so sorry to bother you, but I think I might be a little turned around!"

I opened the door to reveal a woman in her fifties wearing a bright yellow rain jacket and hiking boots. Wes appeared behind her shoulder. She wore her graying hair pulled back in a sporty ponytail.

"Oh, thank goodness!" She pressed a hand to her chest with theatrical relief as she smiled at me and then turned, sensing Wes's presence. "I was starting to think I'd have to send up smoke signals. I'm Linda Kowalski, and I am absolutely, completely lost."

"Morning." Wes's greeting was polite but reserved. "You're pretty far off the main trail."

"Tell me about it!" Linda laughed. "I'm staying with my cousin Janet over in the village—you might know her?

Janet Pierce? She's lived here for, oh, must be thirty years now—and she told me I absolutely had to see the old lighthouse ruins.

Well, I thought I was following her directions, but somewhere along the way, I must have taken a wrong turn. "

Wes inched around Linda and joined me at the door. She looked from one of us to the other. She tilted her head slightly as she took it all in—me in yesterday's clothes, Wes still mussed from sleep, and the smell of coffee and breakfast still lingering.

"Hi," I offered, hoping my smile looked more natural than it felt. "Eric Callahan."

"Oh, wonderful! Are you boys related? You don't look alike, but you never can tell." Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Brothers? Cousins?"

Wes tensed slightly. "Eric's here doing research. I'm the caretaker."

"Research! How exciting!" Linda clapped her hands together.

"What kind of research? Are you a scientist?

You look so young to be a scientist. Not that there's anything wrong with being young!

My daughter's friend just got her PhD at twenty-four, can you believe it?

Though she's been studying since she was practically in diapers. .."

"Coastal ecology," I managed, acutely aware of how Wes's explanation—I'm the caretaker—had created a careful distance between us.

Professional. Safe. Nothing that would invite follow-up questions about why the caretaker and the researcher were having coffee together at dawn or why we both looked like we'd just rolled out of bed.

"How fascinating! And you're staying here?

" Linda pushed up on her toes to look beyond us into the cottage kitchen, taking in the two coffee mugs on the table and the lingering intimacy of our interrupted breakfast. "What a cozy arrangement.

It must get lonely out here for two young men all by yourselves. "

Two young men.

She'd pegged Wes as closer to my age than his actual thirty-five.

"The village isn't far," Wes pointed to redirect her walk. "If you head back the way you came and watch for the split where the path forks left toward the water—"

"Oh no, I'm hopeless with directions!" Linda waved a dismissive hand. "I got turned around three times just getting here. Could one of you possibly walk me back? I'd hate to impose, but Janet will have the Coast Guard out looking for me if I'm not back for lunch, and I'd never hear the end of it."

Wes's jaw tightened.

"I can show you," I offered, stepping forward slightly. "The lighthouse ruins are on my research route anyway."

"Perfect!" Linda beamed. "You can tell me all about your ecology work on the way. I've always been fascinated by the environment. Well, not always—really just since my daughter started her environmental studies program—but still!"

Wes turned to look at me, and for a moment, we were caught in one of those silent conversations that couples have. The words rattled in my head: Are you sure? I can handle this. Do you want me to come with you?

Except we weren't a couple. We were a caretaker and a researcher who'd shared one kiss under the stars and were now pretending to be professional colleagues in front of a chatty tourist.

"I'll grab my jacket," I said.

Linda launched into a story about Janet's garden while I ducked inside to collect my field notebook and jacket. When I emerged, she was peppering Wes with questions about island wildlife that he was answering in careful, minimal sentences.

"...and Janet says there are seals that come right up on the rocks! Have you seen them? Are they friendly? Not that I'd try to pet one, of course, but—"

I interrupted gently. "Ready?"

"Absolutely! Wes, it was lovely meeting you. You boys have such a nice setup here. Very... domestic." Her smile was knowing like she was filing away details to share with cousin Janet later.

Between clenched teeth, Wes attempted to be polite. "Safe travels back to the village."

As Linda and I headed down the path, I glimpsed Wes in my peripheral vision, standing in the doorway watching us go. He'd set his shoulders against the morning chill as he followed our progress down the path.

Linda was already chattering about the "lovely young man" Wes was, and how nice it must be for me to have such good company for my research, and wasn't it wonderful how some people just clicked right away?

I guided her toward the main trail, half-listening to her stream of observations and questions, while part of me remained back at the cottage with Wes. Wondering what he was thinking as he watched us disappear over a small ridge.

"You know," Linda said, picking her way carefully over a root, "Janet always says you can tell a lot about people by how they live. That cottage of yours has such a warm feeling. Very lived-in. Very... together."

I stumbled slightly on the uneven ground. "It's Wes's cottage. I'm only staying there for the research."

"Oh, of course," Linda's tone was innocent, but her smile was pure mischief. "Professional arrangement. I understand completely."