Page 9 of All Along The Watchtower

Was anyone looking for me yet? Probably. But not here. No one would have expected me to come so far. No one knew I had any connection here. Not when I’d only found the evidence myself a few weeks ago when going through Mom’s things.

I paused just outside the door of the ferry terminal, tugging the hood of my jacket up over my hair. Not that it did a thing to stop the fuzzing and curling from the wet. Out on the street, a car rolled by, its brake lights one of the few pops of color in the gray. I’d studied the map of this place before I came, trying to figure out where to go. I had a few places in mind to ask, but before I tried any of them, I needed to scope out some places where I could take shelter for the night in case this went badly. I’d been on the move for days now, so I’d mostly dozed on busses as we’d rumbled across the country. That wouldn’t be an option here on this tiny island. It struck me as the kind of place where they rolled up the sidewalks at night. No 24-hour Walmarts here. I had some money left, but a night at a motel or something would take a big chunk of it, so I wanted to avoid that option if I could.

I set off in the rain, ducking down side streets in case Rachel saw me and worried. For nearly an hour, I wandered, checkingalleys and overhangs. I’d need something more than that. It wasn’t as cold here as a lot of places this time of year, but it was still January, and hypothermia was still a thing. I might be dipping into my limited funds after all. I had enough for two nights, maybe three, if I was careful about my food. After that, I’d need to get creative.

In the end, I found myself down near the marina. Boats bobbed in their slips, and I had the ridiculous thought that they’d been tucked in for the night. Light and a faint twang of country music spilled out of a building ahead. A bar?

I moved closer, trying to see the sign.

Home Port.

Through the window, I could see the building was pretty full. This seemed like the kind of place locals would hang out. Maybe I should go inside and ask here.

As I was trying to make up my mind, my skin prickled. Careful not to make any sudden moves, I casually glanced around, searching for the eyes I knew were on me.

A man stood near the entrance to the bar, a cigarette in hand as he watched me. Its tip glowed orange as he inhaled. Then he blew a stream of smoke out of one side of his mouth. Gross.

He wasn’tdoinganything. Just looking. But he gave me the heebie jeebies.

A truck passed me, pulling into the lot beside the bar. Its headlights swept over the man’s face, causing him to squint.

It was the guy from the ferry. And there was no question this time that he was lookingat me.

I quickly stepped back into the shadow of the nearest building. Maybe he was staring because he recognized me from earlier. Or maybe it was something else. I wasn’t sticking around to find out.

It was time to head back up into the main part of the village to find the person I’d come all this way looking for.

CHAPTER 5

BREE

I wiped down the bar for the third time in ten minutes, more to keep my hands busy than from any real need. Cleaning was meditative for me. Based on how the Brewhouse sparkled, I ought to be a frigging Zen master by now. The steady patter of rain against the windows matched my mood—gray and subdued. But at least I could breathe again, now that Ford had left the island. Not that he’d notified me of his comings and goings. We had the island grapevine for that. Or, in this case, Lindsay, who’d texted that she’d seen both Ford and Rios driving onto the morning’s ferry when she’d been on the way to work this morning.

My gaze drifted to Willa, typing away in her usual booth. Roy Kent, her massive black pit bull, sprawled at her feet, his gigantic head resting on his paws. No doubt he’d appreciate a play date with my own pup, Keeley, who was hanging with Pop today at his place and being spoiled within an inch of her life. I knew that extra bulk she’d picked up around her middle was a hundred percent due to the fact that he had zero ability to say no to her begging face. Maybe once the rain had passed, Willa and I could take the pair of them down to the beach for a romp, and we could have a good catch up.

I missed having her as a roommate. She’d been my first friend after everything had imploded with Ford. Hell, she’d been my first truly close female friend ever, given I’d always been a fifth wheel to the rest of the Wayward Sons. She was the only one I’d actually told about what had happened—and that had only been under the influence of a pitcher of margaritas during a particularly low moment. I wasn’t worried that she’d blab the details to anyone, even Sawyer.

Willa understood secrets. She’d had a boatload of her own, including the fact that she’d been in love with Sawyer since she was thirteen. When they’d up and eloped last year, I hadn’t been at all surprised. Anyone with eyes in their head could see he was crazy about her. And even my romantically jaded heart sighed when I saw how they looked at each other. No, I didn’t resent him for taking her away. If anyone deserved their happily ever after, it was her. She’d been through hell and lived to tell the tale.

The front doors opened again, letting in a gust of wind, and I tensed before I could stop myself. But it was just Drew and Kelly McNamara and their tiny daughter, Isabelle, seeking refuge from the weather.

“Hey, y’all.” As our hostess, Carly, was currently rolling silverware at the other end of the bar, I grabbed menus and met them at the hostess station. “Your usual booth?”

Kelly smoothed a hand over her baby bump. “Please. This one’s demanding curly fries.”

“Gotta appease the bump.”

I led them to their table, sneaking another peek at Willa as we passed. She hadn’t even looked up, lost in whatever grant proposal had captured her attention today. The woman was a machine when she got into the zone. Between the grants she’d landed for the betterment of the island and the work she was doing to turn the land she’d inherited from her grandparentsinto a protected wildlife refuge, she had plenty to keep herself busy.

Back behind the bar, I started a fresh pot of coffee, breathing in the rich aroma that would forever remind me of early mornings with Pop. The afternoon lull wouldn’t last much longer. The rain would drive the locals in early tonight, looking for warmth and company and probably more than a few orders of our famous fish and chips. I welcomed the coming rush. Keeping busy helped quiet the endless parade of memories scrolling through my head about the man I put in so much effort to avoid.

Ten years shouldn’t feel like yesterday. Ten years should be enough time to forget the big boom of his laugh, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Or how I’d believed him when he’d held me after the fire and said everything would be okay, though my whole world lay in ashes around us.

I shook my head, banishing the memories as I grabbed a rag to wipe down the already spotless counter. He’d made his choice. And I’d made mine. The Navy had been more important to him than anything we might have had, and I’d rebuilt my life brick by brick without him.

The coffee maker sputtered its last drops, and I grabbed the carafe, grateful for the distraction of refills.

The door opened again, and this time it was Sawyer, shaking rain from his jacket. He strode in, bringing the scent of sea air and storm as he headed straight for Willa’s booth. His whole face lit up at the sight of her, his gray eyes warming. Despite her habitual Airpods—her shield against unwanted social interaction—she glanced up at his approach, as if he were her true north. The way they looked at each other filled my chest with a hollow ache I refused to examine too closely.

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