Family in His Heart. Gail Martin Gaymer

shifted her application form with his index finger. “There’s work if you know where to look.”

      She studied his face, waiting for him to continue.

      Silence fell between them again until she felt forced to speak. “Where should I look?”

      “At me.”

      “At you?” She enjoyed looking at him. He had a great smile, good looks and a playful personality—if she felt like playing games, which she didn’t right now. “What does that mean?”

      “Doesn’t matter. It’s too late. You’ve found your own job.” He lifted a newspaper from the chair beside him and slid it on the table, glanced at his watch and rose. “Gary’s probably waiting. I’d better get.”

      He dropped two dollars on the table and took a step away before pivoting to face her again. “Nice to meet you, Rona,” he said, walking backward.

      She watched him swing through the front door and felt very alone. He appeared outside the window, crossed the street and headed along the sidewalk beside the marina. Then he vanished from her sight.

      The application lay beside her hand, and she eyed it while her mind soared back to her situation in Eastpointe when she’d been so naive. She’d had a number of bad relationships and now, with maturity, she was trying to decipher why she’d had such poor judgment. She trusted people too easily—that had been her discovery. The memory edged against her heart and the loneliness grew. She’d come here, knowing no one, really. Shirley Bailey probably wouldn’t remember her.

      Her coffee had cooled, but she took a last drink, trying to focus on her new life here in Les Cheneaux area—in Hessel. When the desolate feeling passed, she shifted her attention from the application to the newspaper.

      Drawing it closer, she turned it to face her. Odd. Nick had left it open to employment ads. She skimmed the list until she spotted Nick’s name. Her pulse tripped as she read the ad.

      Housekeeper needed on Marquette Island.

      Transportation provided. Good pay.

      Room and board.

      Contact Nick Thornton.

      Transportation provided? With no bridge or ferry, that made sense. She studied his telephone number while her heart sank. Room and board. Good pay and an island. She’d be safer there.

      But she didn’t know Nick Thornton. Could she trust him? She’d be alone on an island with a man she didn’t know. She rubbed her temples, then grinned. Could she trust herself?

      Chapter Two

      Nick pulled alongside the high school and watched the building. He liked to be on time. Gary had little patience and he tried not to stir up any more animosity than was necessary.

      Kids were like that. They hated their parents once they reached their teens. Nick often wished he could ship Gary away to a farm and then bring him back when he’d become an adult and learned civility, patience and hopefully some love.

      Fighting his son to live his Christian morals and values had gone by the wayside. Lately, Nick struggled to communicate about anything with Gary. He wondered if his wife hadn’t died would Gary be different? Jill. Her image flashed through his mind along with guilt-laden memories. He stifled the vision before it got hold of him again.

      The May sun beat against the window and Nick rolled down the pane to let the breeze drift in. The earth smelled pungent as if the winter’s debris had revitalized the soil, making everything ready to grow. How often had he wished he could be revitalized that simply.

      Revitalized. He pictured Rona, the woman at the restaurant. Now that was energy. She darted from one station to the next, pouring coffee, bussing tables and taking orders without a hitch—a bundle of the cutest energy he’d ever seen.

      He could see her straight honey-colored hair bouncing against her shoulders, the sweep of the wave that tucked beneath her chin when she tilted her head. And those eyes, as gray as a stormy sky but with a hint of sunshine behind the clouds.

      Nick snorted at his flowery rumination. What was he doing thinking of a stranger at the Harbor Inn? He needed a woman muddling his mind like he needed another belligerent son in his life. What he really needed was a housekeeper. Had he known she was looking for work he’d have told her about the job right away, stranger or not. He was desperate.

      A breeze drifted in, bringing the scent of freshly mowed grass. He turned toward the school again and saw Gary meandering around the back of the building, his arm wrapped around a girl encased in the tightest jeans Nick had ever seen and a knit top that exposed more than it covered.

      He shook his head, disgusted and saddened with today’s morals. As if he hadn’t noticed him, Gary leaned against a tree, nestled the girl into his arms and planted a kiss against her mouth. Nick tooted the car horn, hoping to end the public display.

      At first, Gary didn’t move, then finally rolled his shoulders from the tree trunk, eased away from the young woman and ambled toward the SUV.

      Nick rested his arm against the window frame and watched him amble nearer. “I’ve been waiting.”

      “I’m not going home. I forgot to tell you.”

      The young woman adhered to his side like a static-charged balloon. “Hi, Mr. Thornton,” she murmured.

      “Hi,” he said, giving her a glance but not remembering her name—if he’d ever known it. “Gary, you should have told me. I’ve been hanging around town waiting for you. Better yet, you should have asked. What’s up?”

      Gary’s face twisted to a sneer. “I’m going to Phil’s. We have some things to do.”

      “What kind of things?”

      “Dad, get off my back. Things.”

      Nick’s body stiffened. “Please be more respectful, Gary. What kind of things? Studying?”

      “Yah, studying.”

      The girl snickered and nestled closer against his side.

      Studying held about as much reality as cleaning his room. “It’s a school night and I’m not coming back to pick you up.”

      “Phil’ll bring me home or I can spend the night.”

      “No, you can’t. I want you home.”

      Gary slapped the car roof. “Come on, Dad. I’m not six anymore. I’m sixteen.”

      “That’s right, and when you’re twenty-one and earning your own living, you can stay out as long as you want.” Nick’s jaw tightened. “You’ll be home by nine.”

      Gary scowled. “Ten.”

      “Okay, ten, but no later.”

      Gary drew back, lifted a hand and walked away.

      Nick pondered the gesture as his son strode away from the SUV. Had it been a goodbye wave or an I-don’t-want-to-hear-this-anymore gesture.

      Nick fell back against the seat, feeling the warm breeze but forgetting the fresh scent and hopeful sense of something new he’d had earlier. He and Gary had become an old argument for the past two years. The first year after Jill’s death had been one of silence. The last two had been years when silence would have been a gift.

      His shoulders slumped as he pulled away. If he didn’t love his son so much, he wouldn’t care, but Gary was all he had now, his purpose for waking in the morning. With Jill gone—the word made him cringe—life had changed, and despite their rough times, his life had not just faded but died with her. He woke in the morning, ran his businesses, arrived home to be with his distant son and went to bed, wishing they’d never gone waterskiing that ill-fated day, wishing he’d never looked back at Jill.

      The sunlight blurred against the hood of his SUV and he brushed the tears away with the back of his