Page 24 of When Summer Returns

His expression grew more serious, his gaze drifting to the bar logo on her beach tote. “Speaking of your inheritance… that’s quite the legacy your father left behind.” Mr. Wilson leaned on his cane as he gazed across the harbor. “Jesse James ran this place like his personal kingdom for thirty years. Set the ferry rates to suit himself, decided which businesses could open and which couldn’t.”

His rheumy eyes fixed on Jessie with unexpected sharpness. “Your daddy was the kind of man who’d foreclose on a widow’s mortgage during a hurricane and sleep like a baby that night. Made the bank give him first look at any distressed properties. That’s how he built half his holdings—buying desperate folks out at pennies on the dollar.”

The old man’s voice dropped. “Changed after that cancer diagnosis though—like a different man those last six months. Stopped blocking the new medical clinic, even donated that waterfront land he’d been sitting on for years. Too little too late for some folks’ taste, but still…” He shrugged one bony shoulder. “Even the meanest shark might remember it was once something else before it grew teeth.”

With a thoughtful nod, his expression softened into something almost wistful. “Speaking of changes for the better… Island’s been good for Luke, these past years. Steadied him, gave him purpose. He needed that, after you left.”

The casual revelation about Luke needing stability after her departure struck a nerve she hadn’t realized was exposed. “I’m not here to disrupt anything, Mr. Wilson.”

“Nobody said you were.” He studied her face with unexpected keenness. “You’re looking for something, though. Everyone who comes back is.”

“Maybe I’m just handling my inheritance.”

“Maybe pigs fly.” He grinned again, then glanced at his watch. “Nearly time for my medicine. Doctor’s orders, unfortunately.” He patted the pocket of his shirt where a flask-shaped bulge was clearly visible. “Good to see you, Jessie James. Don’t be a stranger.”

He tottered off with more speed than seemed possible, leaving Jessie with the distinct impression she’d been thoroughly, if affectionately, cross-examined.

She continued her exploration, passing the newly expanded Seeker’s Inn with its fresh coat of butter-yellow paint and wraparound porches festooned with hanging baskets of ferns. The wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze bore the silhouette of the island itself, along with four stars—an ambitious rating for a place that had once been little more than a glorified motel.

A chalkboard easel on the sidewalk announcedISLAND MEDICAL CLINIC: DR. MARGARET WINTERS, MD—WALK-INS WELCOME. The weathered clapboard building had once housed the island’s only lawyer—a semiretired alcoholic who had dealt primarily in wills and property disputes. The transformation into a medical practice was unexpected; in Jessie’s youth, islanders had to ferry to the mainland for anything more serious than a splinter or sunburn.

Curiosity propelled her through the door into a waiting room that managed to be both professional and distinctly island-like. Rattan furniture with navy cushions replaced the standard-issue plastic chairs of most medical offices. Framed photographs of island landscapes adorned pale blue walls, while educational posters about sunscreen and hydration offered practical advice rather than dire medical warnings. A small play area in the corner held toys that appeared to have been sanitized sometime in the current century—a far cry from the bacteria-laden objects that usually populated pediatricians’ waiting rooms.

“Can I help you?”

The woman behind the reception counter couldn’t have been more than twenty, with a spray of freckles across her nose and red hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. Her scrubs featured tropical fish swimming across a turquoise background.

“I was just looking around. I grew up on the island but moved away a long time ago.”

“Oh! You must be Jessie.” The young woman’s face brightened. “I’m Kaitlyn. You’re working with Luke at Seeker’s Paradise, right? My brother Miguel says you’re a natural behind the bar.”

“Miguel’s your brother?” Jessie searched for family resemblance and found it in the shape of their eyes and the particular animation of their expressions.

“Half brother, technically. Same mom, different dads.” Kaitlyn shrugged as if this were entirely unremarkable. “Anyway, he says you’ve really livened things up over there.”

“I’ve only been serving drinks for a week.”

“That’s like a decade in island time.” Kaitlyn glanced down at an appointment book. “We’re pretty quiet this morning if you’d like to meet Dr. Winters. She’s finishing paperwork in her office.”

Before Jessie could formulate a response, a door opened and a woman emerged carrying a medical chart. She was perhaps thirty, with the kind of striking beauty that turned heads without trying. Her golden-blond hair fell in loose waves to her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face with bright blue eyes. Her white coat was worn over a simple sundress that couldn’t quite disguise her enviable figure—curves in all the right places that somehow enhanced rather than undermined her professional authority.

“Kaitlyn, do we have any more of those brochures about heat—” She stopped, noticing Jessie. “Hello there. Not a patient, I’m guessing?”

“Just exploring. I’m Jessie James.”

Recognition flashed in the doctor’s bright blue eyes. “Ah, the prodigal bartender. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” She extended her hand. “Maggie Winters. Island doctor, gossip repository, and occasional shoulder to cry on.”

Jessie shook the offered hand, immediately warming to the woman’s straightforward manner. “All that and medicine too?”

“The medicine’s the easy part.” Maggie grinned. “Island practice is ninety percent listening and ten percent actual healthcare.”

“I thought it was ninety percent jellyfish stings and sunburns,” Kaitlyn chimed in.

“Those too.” Maggie checked her watch. “I’ve got forty-five minutes until my next appointment, and I was just about to grab coffee. Want to join me? Island Coffee at the end of the boardwalk makes the best Cuban coffee this side of Miami.”

“I’d love to,” Jessie said, surprised by how quickly the offer appealed to her.

“Perfect.” Maggie slipped off her white coat, revealing more of the sundress beneath—a vibrant blue that matched her eyes and highlighted her curves. She hung the coat on a hook behind the door. “Kaitlyn, I’ll have my phone if anything comes up.”

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