Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (28 page)

Colin laughed and Will turned, looking back at the island. He was so used to blocking the memories, he almost didn’t let himself go back there. But this time he wanted to remember. Just this once, he wanted to let the memories in.

He could see his grandparents’ inn coming into view through the branches of the pines. The setting sun warmed the pale yellow siding of the house, making it glow. Maples and oaks reflected on the shallow water, their leaves painting the surface amber.

Autumn had been Bethany’s favorite time of year. She’d loved the way the sunsets had shimmered over the water, the way the colors had bounced off the railing of the sailboat in the evenings, the sheen on the scales of the fish that he and his grandfather had caught and thrown back.

He heard a child’s giggle behind him and it sounded so much like his sister, he turned, almost expecting to see her. But it was only Taylor, trying to free her broom from Riley’s mouth. He watched her for a long time, remembering how nice it had felt when she’d reached for his hand on the street earlier.

“Miss Haddaway?” Taylor pointed at something on the shoreline. “What’s that?”

Will followed her gaze to a small wooden structure on the edge of the marshes covered with straw, cornhusks and grass.

“It’s a duck blind,” Becca answered slowly.

“What’s a duck blind?” Taylor asked.

Becca exchanged a look with Will. “It’s for hunters.”

“Oh.” Taylor’s fingers curled around her broom. “My mom told me about them.”

Will walked back to stand beside Taylor. “A lot of people around here hunt for sport. A duck blind is a place where they can hide out to wait for the ducks and geese to fly over.”

“They use guns, don’t they?”

“They do,” Will said. “There’s a festival coming up soon. Did your mom tell you about it? The Waterfowl Festival?”

Taylor nodded. “She said there might be a lot of people here…hunting. That I might hear guns.” She hugged her arms around her orange life jacket. “I don’t like guns.”

“I don’t blame you.”

She looked up at him. “Will you be hunting?”

“No.”

“You don’t like guns either?”

Will looked back out at the duck blind. That was a good question. He liked
his
guns, the ones he used to protect his teammates and his country, and he didn’t have a problem with the ones his friends used to hunt deer and waterfowl. But he did not like the guns that a mentally deranged teenager had used on a room full of second-graders.

Becca put her hand on Taylor’s shoulder, pointing toward a nest on top of a red channel marker. “You see that nest?”

Taylor nodded.

“That’s an osprey nest,” Becca explained. “Remember when I told you about how the ospreys were endangered several years ago?”

Taylor nodded. “Because they couldn’t find any safe places to build their nests.”

“Exactly,” Becca said. “This is one of the ways we were able to bring them back, by building platforms on top of channel markers for them to make nests on. We had to give them back what they’d lost.”

Taylor looked up at Becca. “Will the monarchs come back if we grow more milkweed?”

“Maybe,” Becca said. “Every species is different, but since our way of life has destroyed so many of their natural habitats, we have to do what we can to bring them back.”

The boat rounded the tip of the island and the duck blind disappeared from sight. Will let out a long breath.

Becca took Taylor’s hand, leading her back to the helm. “Ryan’s going to tell us about a project he’s been working on to give the oysters back
their
home.”

Ryan cut the engine and they drifted in the quiet waters as he pointed to a tributary on the north side of the island. “In a few weeks, a barge is going to dump a ton of fossilized shells into that river to create a man-made oyster reef. Right now, the bottom of the Bay is so silted, the oysters have nothing to grab onto. They need a hard surface to attach to so they can grow.”

“What’s so special about oysters?” Taylor asked.

“A single adult oyster can filter between twenty and fifty gallons of water a day,” Ryan explained. “Restoring the oyster populations in the Bay would improve the water quality and help bring back other fisheries, like crabs, clams, and rockfish.”

Will gazed out at the water. It wasn’t just oysters, ospreys and monarchs. Hundreds of species depended on this fragile ecosystem for survival. His eyes followed the path of a blue heron as it glided over the marshes to land on the trunk of a fallen oak.

His grandfather had treated these wetlands like a sanctuary, as if they belonged to the wildlife rather than to them.

Wasn’t it his responsibility to do the same?

Colin grabbed two more beers from the cooler, passing one to Ryan. “What do you work on in the winter when you can’t get out on the water?”

“I’m trying to get funding for a few projects I’m hoping to launch next spring,” Ryan answered. “Aside from that, some of the islanders have offered to donate boats and engines to the cause, but they’re old and rusted and need a lot of work. I’ve got five workboats sitting under tarps at the marina right now and I haven’t even had a chance to get started on them yet.”

Colin popped the top off his bottle. “Do you need help?”

Ryan nodded. “I can use all the help I can get. The projects I have in mind for next year are going to require a lot of volunteers. To be honest, I’m not sure where I’m going to get them all yet.”

Colin glanced at Will. “I know some people who are out of the military and looking for work. I bet they wouldn’t mind lending a hand now and then. I could make some calls, see who’s around.”

“That would be great,” Ryan said. “I’d like to get these boats ready to use by next spring.”

Next spring.
Will looked back at the inn as the sun sank into the horizon. He wouldn’t be here next spring.

But what if he couldn’t find a buyer who would protect the land, who would respect it and take care of it the way his grandparents had? Shouldn’t he hold onto it until the right person came along, even if that was months from now?

And if that perfect person never came along?

Maybe he could find a way to keep it. Maybe he would never have to let it go.

Annie glanced up
at the jingle of Riley’s collar on the sidewalk. It was dark, but she could see the silhouette of a tall figure turning up the path to the café. Closing her laptop, she stepped out from behind the counter.

Will had dropped Taylor off a few hours ago, but he hadn’t stayed long and he’d seemed distracted. Surprised to see him back again so soon, she crossed the dining room and opened the door.

He paused on the top step, studying her in the dim porch light. There were emotions in his eyes she couldn’t read. “Is Taylor asleep?”

Annie nodded, walking outside and closing the door behind her. “Is everything all right?”

He crossed the porch to where she stood, and simply drew her into his arms.

It felt so natural, so right, to tilt her face up to meet his kiss. But there was nothing simple about the way his mouth claimed hers. There was nothing simple about the way his arms came around her, fitting her body to his like it belonged there, like it had
always
belonged there.

“Will,” she breathed, pressing her palms to his chest. The wind rushed through the street, whistling through the branches, snatching at the leaves. “Wait.”

He pulled back reluctantly.

She looked up, her heart skipping a beat when she caught the need in his eyes. “You can’t come in.”

“I know,” he said, without letting her go. “I wanted to see you.”

A warm feeling swept through her, but she stole herself against it. He shouldn’t be saying that. He shouldn’t even be here.

She needed a minute to focus, to breathe.

Stepping out of his arms, she picked up a wool blanket draped over a chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “We need to talk.”

His gaze held hers, dark and intense.

“Last night was…unexpected. It was more than I could have imagined.” Annie began. “But don’t you think we should take a step back?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving.”

He studied her for a long time. “I don’t want to take a step back.”

“Will.” Her breath came out in a rush. “I don’t know if Taylor’s going to spend the night at a friend’s house again before you leave. We might not have another night to ourselves. Shouldn’t we stop this now, before someone gets hurt?”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Maybe not on purpose, Annie thought as he closed the distance between them again, taking her face in his hands.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

“No,” she whispered.

“Good,” he murmured, lowering his mouth back to hers.

By the time he pulled back, the only thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want him to leave. Not tonight. Not in two weeks. Not ever.

He took her hand and led her over to the steps, pulling her down to sit beside him. “Did Taylor have a good time on the boat tonight?”

Annie nodded, tucking the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She didn’t trust herself to speak yet. Across the street, the last of the lights went off in the houses. Riley curled up a few feet away, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh.

Will leaned back against the railing and pulled her into his arms. They sat for a long time like that, with her back resting against his chest, watching the town fall asleep and the stars come out.

“Did Taylor show you what Ryan gave her?” Will asked.

“She did.” Annie lifted her gaze to the chimes spinning and swaying in the wind. Ryan had given her daughter a plastic bag filled with tiny silver fishing weights, blue fishing line, sparkly lures, and plastic worms. He’d removed all the hooks so she could make a wind chime out of them.

Annie had been touched by the gesture, but more than that, she’d been surprised at the islanders’ overall reaction to her homemade decorations. Several people who’d stopped by the café for the first time today had told her how much they loved her chimes. And it wasn’t just the islanders. The tourists had gone crazy over them, too. On opening day, one woman from Annapolis had asked if she would consider taking on commissions; she’d wanted to order a special set for her daughter’s graduation with memories from high school.

Too stunned to give her an answer, Annie had taken her number and said she would call.

Relaxing into Will’s arms, she listened to the soothing melody mingling with the sound of the geese chattering on the cove and Riley’s quiet snoring.

“Tell me about making one of them.” Will said, his voice warm and rich in her ear.

“One of the wind chimes?” Annie asked, surprised.

He nodded.

“Which one?”

He pointed at a chime made of red clay rings and turquoise stones.

She was quiet for a long time, watching the rings and stones spin in the moonlight.
Of all the chimes for him to pick.
“I made that one in Santa Fe.”

“Did you live there long?”

“Almost three years.” It was the longest she’d lived anywhere before moving to D.C. It was the only place, before moving to this island, that she’d ever really considered home.

“How old were you?”

“I was nine when we got there.”

“A little older than Taylor is now.”

She nodded. “We moved there for the art scene, but a few weeks after we got there my mother met a man named Jeff Alvaro. He’d lost his wife to cancer the year before and my mother was the first woman he’d dated since.”

They had fallen in love in a matter of weeks. Her mother had always fallen in love with men hard and fast. But as soon as the initial excitement of the relationship had worn off, she’d been the first to bail.
‘Don’t give them a chance to leave you first, Annie,’
her mother had told her when she was still a little girl.
‘Don’t ever give a man the satisfaction of seeing that he’s hurt you, that he has that power over you. The only way you can ensure you always have the upper hand is to be the first one to walk out the door.’