Page 3 of Island Protector

“You let the grown-ups worry about the mail. Whatever has made her sad won’t affect you,” she promised. She poked his belly and tickled him.

When he grabbed her hand and giggled, she scooped him up and gave him a kiss and then set him on his feet before he protested about being babied. “What do you think Miles will teach us about sailing today?”

The little guy’s expression cleared and he eagerly sat down on the dock next to Miles, listening to every detail about lines, knots, bumpers, and cleats. They had another review about life jackets and water safety rules before Sharon insisted on heading home.

Leaving Miles to wonder about Molly, the letter, and her subsequent sadness.

Not his business, and yet…

She was such a genuinely happy person. He’d only ever seen her upset when it involved Bryce. She had never mentioned Bryce’s father and Miles had the impression that was on purpose. There had never been any talk of Bryce spending a weekend away or a custody arrangement of any kind.

Not. His. Business.

But he couldn’t help himself. Returning tohis office, he picked up his phone. Despite the illusion that he was a small business owner in a quiet town, he had connections.

Serious connections he was willing to lean on if it meant helping Molly.

Chapter Two

Molly had readthe letter repeatedly over the past several days. Oddly enough, the repetition didn’t change the contents. Then she shoved it away, deep in the bottom of her purse, until she could come up with a plan.

As if. What did she know about lawyers, family court, or custody disputes? She hadn’t felt so inept or ill-prepared since she’d found herself pregnant at nineteen.

While she tried to work, her mind raced in circles, struggling to find the link from her old life in Tampa to her new life here in Brookwell. What prompted this sudden contact?

Not her parents. They had kicked her out, withdrawing all semblance of support and civility the minute they learned about the pregnancy. And hearing she’d landed here, with her father’s sister Sharon, had created a rift between the siblings. Sharon insisted her brother had been an ass all his life and that it was a blessing not to hear his blowhard opinions any longer.

Sharon had offered more than immediate support and their relationship had morphed into a lovely blend of mother, daughter, and best friend.

Molly looked at her life and saw a clear dividing line: before and after motherhood.

Her judgmental parents, along with her old friends and connections, were past-Molly issues.

Her little boy, her career, and her life here defined the Molly she had become. Despite the rocky moments, deep uncertainty, and big challenges, she loved growing as a mom, friend, and woman, year by year.

Now her five short years of motherhood were being challenged. Labeled unsatisfactory by two people who’d barely known her name when she’d been running wild with their son.

It didn’t make any sense, no matter which way she turned it over in her mind.

Once Bryce had been tucked into bed last night, Aunt Sharon had sat her down and put an end to her procrastination. Pressing a cup of tea into Molly’s hands, Sharon insisted on helping with money, time, or whatever else Molly needed to ensure Bryce stayed right where he belonged.

Of course, her aunt meant every word and Molly knew she’d have to lean on her again as this played out. As much as she appreciated her aunt, she struggled with taking more. Sharon had opened her home, changed her schedule, gone to birthing classes, helped her through the delivery, spent hours holding Bryce through bouts of colic, and provided the financial safety net Molly needed.

On her own, Molly would’ve managed, but every day would’ve been as much struggle as joy. Here, with her aunt, a good job, and warm, tight knit community, she and her son had thrived.

She wouldn’t give that up without a fight. She couldn’t ignore this. Couldn’t pretend it would go away. Bryce’s paternal grandparents were wealthy and knewplenty of influential people. Molly needed help, beyond Sharon’s offers to hire an attorney and watch Bryce during any meetings with lawyers, assessments, or court appearances.

Court. What a cringe-worthy word. This sudden custody dispute was outrageous.

Bryce’s father, Tommy Grainger, had disappeared the day before she’d worked up the courage to buy the pregnancy test. She’d spent all her free time with him and had convinced herself their romance was the real deal. But when she needed him most, he was just… gone.

And when the pregnancy showed a positive, she tried to talk with him, to get some idea of how he’d feel about starting a family right away. Her calls had gone to voicemail, texts went unanswered. After a week of desperation and worry, she’d gone to his parents’ home. His weeping mother stood at the door, shouting at her that Tommy was dead, that it was Molly’s fault.

Bewildered, in disbelief, she’d bolted. Ran from the posh, gated neighborhood back to Tommy’s apartment across town. Scared, convinced his mother was wrong, she waited for him to come home.

He didn’t.

Sometimes, thinking of where she and Bryce might be without Sharon, an icy dread coated the back of her neck. The paperwork in the bottom of her purse stirred up that same reaction. So she didn’t want to ask Sharon to do more. And she sure as hell didn’t want to drag her aunt into a custody battle.

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