Page 11 of Sometimes You Stay

Except for when she’d taken a swim in the harbor that morning. But he’d already admitted that fiasco was more than a little bit his own fault.

She didn’t need his charity. Or Marie Sloan’s, for that matter.

“Thank you very much for lunch. How much do I owe you?” Cretia reached for her phone but found her pocket empty. “I can ... I’ll send you some money as soon as I’m back online.”

“Don’t be silly.” Marie’s words sounded like a song, the notes sweet and airy. “You don’t owe me anything. It was just lunch.”

She’d heard that a few times from pub owners in Ireland. And once from a man in Oregon who thought a free meal had earned him some other favors. He’d gotten himself a knee to his sensitive bits for that.

After so many years alone on the road, Cretia had learned how to read people. Fast. Marie posed no threat. And Finn wasn’t dangerous, just a little clueless. And apparently rude. Though she couldn’t forget his earlier compassion.

But that didn’t mean she needed to stick around.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she lowered her foot to the ground. Her stool scraped as she pushed back, her ankleonly giving a little twinge to remind her of the mishap. “I think I better go. But thank you again. I’ll send you some money for lunch as soon as I can.”

Marie shot a glance at Finn before rushing around the island. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. And your things. You don’t have—”

“I’ll figure it out.” She took a step toward the mudroom to retrieve the extent of her belongings. Diminished though they were.

“Your shoes are soaking wet, and your clothes are still in the washing machine.”

“I ... um...” Cretia glanced down and plucked at the sweatshirt covering her. She couldn’t very well walk out of the inn in another woman’s clothes. Especially when she would probably never be back. “I’ll mail these to you?”

Marie’s eyes filled with worry, and she glanced at Finn, signaling him with a nod.

He jumped to his feet so quickly that he sent his own stool clattering to the ground as he finished the last slurp of his soup. Holding up one hand, he scooped up his overturned seat, then slid in front of her. “Please, wait. I’m sorry. I swear that my mom taught me some manners. I spend all day with dogs and other animals, and I sometimes forget.”

“Dogs?”

As if on cue, the dog barked from the yard, and Finn smiled. “Joe Jr. and a bunch more.”

She’d heard Finn call the dog that after he rescued her. And the name plucked at an old memory she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe the dog’s dad had been named Joe, and his name was as simple as that. Still, she couldn’t help but ask for clarification. “JoeJr.?”

Finn nodded slowly. “He’s ... Have you ever seenWhile You Were Sleeping?”

That was where she knew the name from. It had been one of her mom’s favorite movies, and they’d watched it over and over when she was a kid.

“Like the character in the movie, my dog is just a little bit of a doofus. My mom decided it fit.”

Cretia’s concern must have shown on her face because Finn immediately waved his hands and tried to clarify his words. “He’s well-intentioned. Very sweet. But just a little bit ... off.”

She didn’t know what that meant exactly—or if she should be offended that Finn had sent his not-quite-all-there dog to rescue her. “Compared to what?”

“To the other Newfoundlands I breed.”

“All right...” She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with that information. Knowing there were more bears around town wasn’t exactly adding to North Rustico’s appeal. Especially if they had their breeder’s temperament.

Cretia shook her head to clear it, then glanced around Finn at the bucket in the mudroom. Even her passport looked like it could use a rest. Her laptop and tablet had probably succumbed to the same fate as her phone—damaged beyond repair. All of them would have to be replaced.

Thank goodness her content automatically saved to the cloud, and she had videos scheduled every day for a couple weeks.

Squaring her shoulders, she managed a loose smile for Finn. “I appreciate your apology, but I just need to get to an Apple store. And then I have a ticket to Iceland.”

Finn’s eyebrows bunched together. “The only apple store on the island is connected to an orchard.”

“Excuse me?”

Marie slid into her peripheral vision and pressed a warm hand to her shoulder. “It sells apples grown on trees—not electronics.”

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