Page 63 of When Summer Returns

“Complicated,” she replied, echoing her assessment of her father’s estate. “There’s a situation with a merger that apparently only I can resolve. Winston’s quite insistent.”

“When do you leave?” The question slipped out before Luke could reconsider its implications.

Jessie studied him for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “I told him I need time. There are matters here that require my attention first.”

Relief and apprehension warred within Luke’s chest—relief that she wasn’t immediately departing, apprehension about what her eventual decision might be. “The estate stuff?”

“Partly.” She sipped her water, organizing her thoughts. “But also the bar. My father’s will contained some unexpected provisions regarding Seeker’s Paradise.”

Interest rippled through their small audience. Even Maggie and Reece leaned in slightly, island curiosity overriding professional distance.

“What kind of provisions?” Luke asked carefully.

“The complicated kind,” Jessie replied, offering a rueful smile. “I need some time to process everything before we discuss it. Mr. Abernathy’s drawing up the formal documents, but the gist is that my father left specific instructions about how his ownership stake should be managed.”

“Classic Jesse,” Reece muttered. “Controlling from beyond the grave.”

“Something like that,” she agreed. “But there’s more to it than I initially thought. I just need some space to think everything through.” She glanced around the increasingly crowded bar. “Preferably somewhere quiet.”

“Quiet is in short supply these days,” Luke observed. “Between generators and chainsaws, the island sounds like a construction zone.”

She nodded, meeting his gaze with newfound resolution. “I won’t be long. I just need to clear my head.”

“Take whatever time you need,” he said, understanding her need for space. “The bar will be here when you get back.”

The real question—the one neither of them voiced—was whether she would be coming back to simply finish what they’d started or to begin something entirely new.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, the simple farewell somehow feeling like a promise rather than a platitude.

As she walked away, slipping out the beachside exit and pausing only to remove her sandals before her bare feet hit the sand, Luke found himself hoping that Miguel’s assessment was correct. That what Jessie had found on Seeker’s Island—in the bar, in the community, in him—was indeed something she hadn’t known she was missing. Something worth choosing over corporate partnerships and mainland success.

The tide was rising, washing away footprints almost as quickly as they were made. Whether Jessie’s path would lead her back to him or away to the mainland remained to be seen. For now, all Luke could do was what islanders had always done in the face of uncertainty—continue rebuilding, one moment at a time, and trust that when the waters settled, what mattered most would remain.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

The spring cameinto view as the path opened, revealing the natural basin surrounded by moss-covered limestone and smooth boulders worn by centuries of visitors’ hands. Steam rose from the areas where hot water bubbled up from deep underground, creating a misty veil across sections of the pool. At the opposite end, the cold spring fed a small but persistent waterfall that contributed its contrasting stream to the mix. The meeting point—where legend claimed wishes were granted—lay precisely in the center, visible only as a faint line of turbulence across the otherwise placid surface.

Jessie settled on a flat rock at the water’s edge, removing her light overshirt to reveal the swimsuit she’d worn beneath her clothes. The decision to enter the spring had been made before she’d left Luke’s house that morning, though she hadn’t consciously acknowledged it until now. Some rituals required complete participation, not mere observation.

“It’s been waiting for you.”

The voice startled her so completely that Jessie nearly slipped from her perch. She turned to find an elderly woman standing a few feet away, her sudden appearance as mysterious as it was unexpected. The woman’s silver hair hung in a single thick braid down her back, adorned with small shells and what looked like sea glass woven into the strands. Her dress, a simple shift in faded blue that matched the surrounding water, seemed to belong to no particular era—neither modern nor antique, but somehow timeless.

Most striking were her eyes—pale green with flecks of gold, the precise color Jessie had always imagined mermaids’ eyes might be. They regarded her with the particular wisdom of great age combined with the unsettling directness of a child.

“I’m sorry,” Jessie said, recovering her composure. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

“The spring is never truly empty,” the woman replied, her voice carrying the distinctive island cadence yet with an accent Jessie couldn’t quite place. “Even when no one stands upon its shores, it holds the echoes of all who’ve come seeking.”

Unease mingled with curiosity as Jessie studied the woman more carefully. Though she’d been away fifteen years, she’d prided herself on remembering most island residents, particularly the elderly ones. Yet this woman was a complete stranger. Perhaps a new resident who’d moved to the island during her absence? But her manner suggested someone deeply connected to this place, not a recent arrival.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Jessie ventured. “I’m?—”

“Jessie,” the woman finished for her, the name spoken not as an introduction but as a recognition, as if reciting a familiar story. “Come home at last to face what was left behind.”

A chill that had nothing to do with the morning air skittered across Jessie’s skin. “How do you know me?”

The woman’s smile deepened the web of lines around her eyes. “Everyone knows everyone on Seeker’s Island. Or haven’t you remembered that yet?”

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