Page 110 of Austen

Aw,that wasn’t fair.She could have gone with him—he’d invited her to Mariposa.But she had to face the rebuilding of her life sometime.

Still...

Margo, you would have liked him.

She got into her Jeep and headed back to town, over the bridge, past the naval base, and into the tight neighborhoods of Key West.Houses snugged together in shoebox yards with jutting palm trees and parrots calling, cats running across the narrow roads, and the historic ambiance of a town known for escape.

No wonder she’d landed here.

Music from the nightlife near Mallory Square lifted as she drove to the Galleon Marina.She made out theFancy Freein the darkness, back at home in the slip, waiting for someone to love her again.

Austen parked, then headed out to the harbor, keyed in her code at the gate, and padded down to her dock.

The trawler’s front light had been bashed on a rock, and the nav station on the flybridge looted, but her Magma grill and even her dive gear remained intact (it had been locked in the back benches, so that helped).The American flag hung in shreds from its mount on the stern, having been ripped as it wrapped around the pole.And the bimini she’d sewn flapped in the wind.Only the pole remained of her Starlink satellite system.

But the cabin navigation station remained intact, and her clothing in the forward berth had also survived.

Mostly,Fancylooked tired and ragged.But she’d made it home.

There was so much to be grateful for, despite the work of rebuilding.

Austen stepped into the stern.The door to the hatch remained closed, so she climbed up to the flybridge.Sat in the captain’s seat.Put her feet on the console and leaned back, staring at the heavens.

“It is amazing to me that God can use anyone who simply trusts Him.”

Yes, Lord.I trust you.

Footsteps below, on the bow, or maybe the stern deck.She sat up, her heart pounding.

She had no weapon, so she slipped off a flip-flop.

Got up and tiptoed to the ladder.

A man stood on her boat, in the darkness?—

She held up her flip-flop.“Get off my boat!”

He held up his hands.Turned.

She threw the shoe at him.It bounced off his chest and he recoiled.

She reached for the other.“Get?—”

“For the love, Austen—it’s me!”

She stilled.And then her heart restarted and?—

She moved.

Right down the ladder, launching herself into Declan’s arms.

Because until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much, how very,verymuch, she wanted this man.Him and his beautiful, complicated life.

He caught her, bracing himself as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, holding on tight.“This is better than a flip-flop.”

She leaned back, caught his face in her hands.He’d shaved, of course, but wore the slightest scruff, and she smiled down at him, the light from the moon in his beautiful eyes.

“You’re back.”

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