Kit smiled. “Ah, so it was true love, was it?”
“At first sight . . . the lovely professor and the turtles. She—Anne—actually started the work here almost twenty years ago.”
Kit wanted to ask the obvious question, but didn’t want to thoughtlessly probe something that might not be a happy memory.
But her curiosity showed on her face. He lifted his hand and flashed a simple gold band on his ring finger. “She’s working in Savannah at the college, but is helping me here when she can. We live on Sugarberry.”
Kit’s smile broadened and she might have sighed just a little. “I think that’s wonderful. Both love stories. How great that you can share something you’re both passionate about.”
“You are absolutely right about that.” Not a trace of smugness appeared in his tone, just sincere joy and happiness.
“Do you have children involved in the family passion as well?”
“No children for us, unfortunately,” he said easily. “The turtles get our undivided attention.”
“Then they’re the luckiest turtles around.” She stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “I don’t know what my immediate future holds, but if I end up staying, I’d like to talk some more, maybe find a way to help out. I need a, well—”
“A hobby?” he asked not unkindly, but perhaps a bit . . . probingly.
Kit didn’t blame him. She was sure people thought volunteering was cool and interesting and fun—and no doubt it was all those things—but first and foremost it was a research center, and the work they were doing was serious and important. “I was going to say I need something other than my immediate world to focus on for a change. I’m starting over, I guess you could say, and this time around, I want more of a balance between work life and personal life.” She grinned. “Any personal life would be a major step in the right direction.”
“Sounds like a healthy plan and I admire your optimism and fortitude.” He shook her hand, then squeezed it before letting it go. “Let’s talk more when that time comes. I can always use the help and enthusiasm of someone who truly wants to contribute. As for Sugarberry, it’s a good place for starting over or just plain starting. And an even better place for staying. And building. And growing. We’d be happy to have you, Miss Kit.”
She grinned. “Well, if the rest of the residents are like you, you might as well get a lab coat ready for me.”
He smiled and gave her a wink. “Guess I should go and see how my newest little volunteer is doing.”
Kit’s smile didn’t falter. She was feeling too good and . . . relaxed, and wanted to hold on to the feeling for as long as possible. “Mr. Westlake’s niece?”
Dr. Langley’s gaze sharpened a little. “Yes, the delightful Miss Lilly. We’ve only just met ourselves, but she’s going to be a wonderful addition to our growing family here. I hope we can be the same for her.”
“I do, too.” At the doctor’s questioning look, she added, “I’m familiar with . . . his family. And I overheard in town earlier about his moving here. None of my business, really. I just—it sounded like they’ve been through a tough time and I think it’s cool she’s found something that interests her.”
Dr. Langley studied her for a moment, then said, “Yes, I agree. Perhaps that’s something you know a little bit about yourself?”
She smiled briefly. The good doctor was a very perceptive observer, but she guessed that’s what made him good at his work. “Perhaps.”
“Well then . . . I hope it works out for you both.”
Kit wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but nodded and smiled. “Me, too.” She took a step back and turned to leave. “Thank you again. For your time . . . and for . . . the encouragement. I hope to see you again.”
“As do I. Safe travels, Miss Kit.”
“Oh, I’m not travel—” She broke off when his wise eyes warmed with knowing. She laughed shortly. “Very clever.”
“Sometimes you just have to know the right questions to ask yourself.”
She was smiling as she walked back toward the welcome area. She glanced over her shoulder to find him still standing in the same place. “Very lucky turtles, indeed,” she called back to him.
He smiled, lifted a hand, and waved.
She waved back and headed outside. “So,” she said, walking toward her car. “So.”
The sun was low on the horizon and the warm air had cooled significantly. She took in a deep, cleansing breath as she made a slow turn, looking toward the dunes. She remembered the dancing turtle kite, and thought about the little girl who’d lost her parents and found, perhaps, some unlikely new companions in a few stranded turtles. She tried not to think about the hunky, kite-flying uncle, but he was hard to block out. Unfortunately, so was his last name.
Still . . . she was smiling as she finally climbed into her car. Sure, she would have much preferred a Westlake-free environment, but, given the rest of the items on the plus side of the list, it was a compromise she was willing to make. It wasn’t like they had to spend time together.
Kit turned her thoughts to Lani’s job offer, to the excited and passionate pastry chef and her sexy, British husband, and to the lively little senior, Alva, and her love of pirates. Making her decision, Kit gave a pound to the steering wheel. “Ready or not, Sugarberry. Here I am.”
Morgan was leaning in the doorway behind Gabe as Kit left the building.
The older man didn’t seem all that surprised when he turned and found him there. “Nice young woman. Good spirit. Good heart.”
“You got all that from a ten minute chat?”
The good doctor smiled. “It’s easier to read some than others. No pretenses with that one. She’ll let you know how she feels.” He slid the clipboard out from where he’d tucked it under his arm and studied something on the top page. “She certainly did with you,” he added casually.
Morgan already knew that despite his somewhat absentminded professor demeanor, Gabriel Langley was anything but.
“Never saw her before,” Morgan said. Though, admittedly, he was intrigued enough—despite her reaction to his name or maybe because of it—to hope their paths might cross again. “Can’t say why she reacted the way she did.”
“I believe it was your last name that gave her pause.”
“Oh, I got that part. I just don’t know why. I know the islanders might be concerned, given my family’s history, especially with Birdie Wiggins. I think they’ll come to see I only mean to make things better—for Lilly and for Birdie. I have their best interests at heart. I do.”
“Oh, I think you’re right about that. Just give it time.”
“But she—Kit—isn’t from here, so I don’t know how she even knows anything about me.”
“I believe she mentioned something about overhearing a conversation in town.”
“So, folks aren’t saying kind things then, huh?”
“I didn’t say that. Just that she heard something about you being here and about the situation with Miss Lilly. Might be she understands a little something of that. Personally, I mean.”
“Why do you say that?”
Gabe looked up, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “A look in her eyes. Sometimes a person can just tell. Maybe that was why she reacted to you the way she did. Hard to say. Seemed right friendly, otherwise.”
When Morgan didn’t have anything to add to that, Gabe flipped a page on the clipboard and went back to reading. “Sounds like she plans to stay on Sugarberry, though,” he said, at length. “Maybe she’ll see your good intentions, too. Change her mind.”
Morgan grinned, surprised, but kind of touched at the same time. “You playing matchmaker, doctor?”
“Oh, I don’t play at that.” A smile ghosted around his mouth as he flipped another page. But he didn’t bother to elaborate.
Still grinning, Morgan said, “Lilly and I are going to head out, get out of your hair. It’s dinnertime. Do you, by chance, have the number for the pizza place?”
“Take-out menu is in the folder on top of the cabinet over there.”
“Great.” Morgan crossed the room. “I really appreciate your patience and understanding. With Lilly, I mean. I had no idea she was going to become so fixated on the turtles, but—”
Gabe looked up, his smile soft and clearly filled with affection. “The turtles can use all the attention they can get. She’s welcome here.”
“I—thanks. That means a lot. I don’t always know what to do with . . . well, everything, when it comes to taking care of her. But this is the first thing I’ve seen her take a real shine to, since . . .”
“I’m happy and touched the turtles mean something to her,” Gabe filled in when Morgan trailed off.
“I know this is a lot to ask, but I don’t want her to worry about them. About losing them, I mean. I’ll keep her away from the ones that are in need of more . . . intensive care. I just—she doesn’t need more loss.”
“I understand. There are plenty here who will be just fine, if not perfect, when we release them. If you would like to be involved with that, we can get her following the few who are closest to that stage.”
“They don’t need to be perfect, just preferably not dying. In fact, she’s taken a shine to the big guy back there. She calls him—”
“Paddlefoot.” Gabe smiled. “So, I heard. He’ll be with us a good while longer, but he’s doing well.”
“Sounds like a good fit then.”
“He’ll be released eventually,” Gabe warned.
“Hopefully, by then, she’ll understand that’s a good thing for him. Do you do the releases here?”
Gabe nodded. “Right off the beach.”
“Well, maybe we can be involved in some other releases before he goes, so she understands how it works, what’s in store for the turtles, and why it’s good they get to go home again.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
“I also showed her the egg nest. I thought it might intrigue her, or at the very least, be a distraction. She’s very concerned about them.”
“So are we, to be honest,” Gabe said. “It’s late in the season for a nest to hatch. Not unheard of, but it’s not as usual this far north. There’s only the one nest left.”
“It’s been pretty warm this fall.”
Gabe nodded. “But it still cools off quite a bit at night, and temperatures could become less moderate at any moment. If it gets too cold, the eggs stop incubating. We’ve been testing the temps in the sand, and keeping an eye on them. The mother picked a good location high up on the beach, not at risk for flooding, and we haven’t had any big storms or heavy rains, so we staked it out, fenced it from predators, and we’ll let it go as it goes.”
“Do you know how many are in there?”
“We inspected the nest early on. One hundred sixteen eggs by our count.”
“Wow. What percentage do you think will make it?“
“It’s anyone’s guess, but the sooner they hatch, the better chance we have of getting as high a percentage as possible.”
“Could you dig them up, hatch them inside?”
“Not here. They should hatch in the next two weeks, so we think it will go as well as can be expected.”
“Will you be out there? Or monitoring it in some way?”
“We have a camera mounted under the pavilion awning closest to the nest. It’s still a bit of a distance, but we’d see the surface disturbance enough to know they’re coming out.”
Morgan entered the pizza place’s number into his phone and put the folder back. “How well will they do once they come out? I mean, do you think they’ll mostly make it?”
“Their chances of making it to adulthood are rough, but if we’re lucky enough to be there when they hatch, we can do our best to keep the other creatures away, and at least help them to the water. The crabs and birds won’t be a threat at night. We mostly work to keep the man-made barriers, trash, netting, that sort of thing, to a minimum to help keep their path clear to the water. And keep the lights off, so they don’t get confused.” He flipped the papers back on his clipboard and put it under his arm. “If any of the film comes out well, we can show Lilly an edited piece of the babies digging through the surface and trekking to the water. It really is a sight to see.”
Morgan smiled. “That would be great. I’d be happy to help with that, if you need me to. I’ve put a lot of film together for clients . . . for in court and for fund-raising, so I’ve gotten pretty handy with that sort of thing.”
Gabe smiled. “Good to know. Careful what you offer.”
Morgan’s smile spread to a grin. “It would be my pleasure. Something to balance out the work life.”
Gabe’s expression turned knowing. “Funny. Kit said something along the same lines.”
Morgan shook his head and chuckled. “Glad to know you’re not matchmaking.” He headed back toward the door to the lab where Lilly was keeping Paddlefoot company.
“I didn’t say that.” He smiled, a sage look on his face. “Just that I don’t play at it.”
As Morgan neared the doorway, he could hear Lilly singing quietly, and that lump came back to his throat. He looked back at Gabe, barely registering what the man had said. “Thank you. Again.”