Page 18 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

Inside, the house was the kingdom of teapots where a touch of the nautical reigned. The teapots conquered everything—the steady antique cupboard, the round table, the granite countertop. A set of them was even painted on the red dining room wall young Skylar had splattered with white polka dots. She’d painted those teapots too when she’d been a child, and the spout was a tad crooked.

Mrs. Rafferty collected teapots, and her husband and later their son—Skylar’s father—used to bring them to her from their sea travels. Her late husband had been a sailor, and their son followed in his footsteps. Until Skylar’s father didn’t come home from a late-night boat trip two months after her mother had left town with a tourist she’d met at the beach.

The wind had brought his boat ashore the next day, but he’d been nowhere to be seen.

Speculation abounded about what had happened to him and why he’d gone out on the ocean late at night and in bad weather. Some said he’d fallen overboard by accident. Others said that he’d been drunk, but that was unlike him. One rumor spread that he’d drowned on purpose after losing the love of his life. A few even said he didn’t want to return to the place that caused him so much grief.

That wasn’t all.

On the night her father disappeared, Skylar had escaped the house, probably to look for him. Her grandmother, out of her wits, called the police when she stopped by the next morning, then Dallas’s mother, and they’d gathered a search party. They’d finally found Skylar nearthatcottage when they’d checked everything a second time. She’d been hiding under the porch where she’d sneaked in by taking out a broken wooden plank, and they probably hadn’t noticed her the first time.

In the following three weeks, she hadn’t talked and only cried. When she’d started talking again, she’d said she couldn’t remember anything. Years later, she’d never recalled what had happened that night.

Or so she’d said.

Dallas suppressed a shudder about the trauma she’d gone through. She couldn’t even get closure, because how can you get closure to something you can’t remember?

The place breathed the sea this family so loved. In wrinkled maps of the bay. In miniature ship replicas. In fishing nets hanging from the ceiling. In a lighthouse figurine with a chipped-off shoreline. And in something that always drew his attention—Skylar’s watercolors of the ocean. Once, they’d changed often, a row of fresh works replacing the ones before them.

His heart contracted as he searched for new works. No, there wasn’t a single new one since she’d left.

Would there ever be?

He didn’t understand much about art. But her sunshine-filled works used to bring her joy. What—or who—was bringing her joy now?

Skylar’s grandmother wobbled into the living room, and his stomach tightened. Her shoulders were more stooped today, and her movements were slower than usual. He and Skylar exchanged concerned glances. They used to understand each other so easily before.

Did she miss that understanding? Did she miss him at all? A rush of heat bubbled under his skin. How could she discard everything they had?

“Hey, stranger.” Mrs. Rafferty smiled, but it didn’t hold the usual warmth. What was happening? She didn’t look like an excited bride. She picked up her purse. “We’re going to choose the wedding cake and invitations. Would you like to join us?”

There was his opening. Not that he knew anything about wedding preparations. All his brothers were single. And the only time he’d thought he’d be shopping for a wedding cake would be with Skylar. His heart shifted.

“Why would Dallas want to join us in wedding preparations?” Skylar rolled her eyes.

“Actually, I’d love to.” He offered Mrs. Rafferty his elbow to lean on.

Skylar’s jaw slackened. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” He couldn’t pretend this wouldn’t hurt. But he could make the best of it.

“You must really love cake.” Mrs. Rafferty placed her hand in the crook of his arm.

He helped her walk outside and down the stairs while Skylar trailed them with a bewildered look in her eyes. Yes, he glanced back several times.

Breeze trudged along, but Skylar wiggled her finger at her. “Stay.”

When Breeze whined, obviously scared she might get abandoned again, Skylar’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. We can’t take you inside the pastry shop, and it’s going to be too hot for you to wait in the car. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Dallas winced. That was what she’d told him.

I’ll be back before you know it.

“Before you know it” turned out to be fifteen years. And he’d felt every moment with every fiber of his being, especially the first two years.

The dog tilted her head and eyed Skylar skeptically but stayed in place.

He followed her sedan in his truck, and a short drive later, they were at Candy’s Pastries. The place welcomed them with the aroma of freshly baked goodies, and his stomach perked up. But the instant he entered the pastry shop, he cringed. Of course, he knew Patty covered for her sister sometimes, but did it have to be today?

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