6 Rainier Drive. Debbie Macomber

report about how the fire was set—we already know that—or by whom. The inspector found a pewter cross in the ashes. That’s the biggest news. But I have no idea who it belongs to and we can’t be sure it’s even connected to the arsonist.”

      Leif frowned, as if pondering this latest bit of information. They sat on a park bench outside the marina. “How are things at home?” his father asked.

      Seth figured his wife had given him an earful. Then again, it wasn’t like Justine to share their personal problems with others. “What makes you ask?” Seth murmured. He reached down and picked up a pebble and threw it into the water.

      His father picked one up, too, and tossed it toward the cove. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that you looked like you wanted to talk.”

      All at once Seth realized he did need to confide in someone. Someone who knew him well, yet could maintain a perspective on the whole situation and everyone involved. Someone whose advice he trusted. Who else but his father? Sighing deeply, Seth braced his elbows on his knees. “Justine and I had an argument this morning. It wasn’t over anything important. We’re both on edge these days with the fire and all.”

      His father didn’t respond for a moment. “That doesn’t sound good.”

      “The problem is, I don’t know what to do with myself these days. I wanted to start rebuilding as soon as possible. Then, a couple of weeks ago, Justine dropped this bombshell about not being sure rebuilding was such a good idea. She seems to believe we should just forget about the restaurant.” Seth lowered his voice.

      He sucked in his breath and waited for his father’s reaction. He assumed Leif would react the same way he had—with shock and disbelief. The fact that he didn’t immediately say anything surprised him. “So, what do you think?” Seth pressed.

      His father leaned back, closing his eyes. “Did she give you a reason?”

      Seth had been too shocked to take in much of what Justine had said. At the time, he’d figured it was simply her way of dealing with the aftermath of the fire. “My wife is talking nonsense,” he said. “We need the restaurant. It’s how we make our living. Okay, she’s right—I do put in a lot of hours and the work is demanding. The profit margin isn’t exactly what we’d hoped, but we were doing pretty well.”

      He looked at his father, but Leif still didn’t give any indication of what he was thinking.

      “It’s total nonsense,” Seth insisted a second time. “Of course we should rebuild!”

      “What do you plan to do while you’re waiting for everything to come together?” his father asked instead.

      If Seth had the answer to that, he wouldn’t be hanging around the marina. “I don’t know.” This gave the matter of rebuilding top priority in his mind. Filling his days with the reconstruction project would ease his depression. Seth had been raised with a strong work ethic; he’d worked summers and after school from the time he was thirteen. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he wasn’t working. Outside of his role as a husband and father, his identity, his sense of who he was, came from what he did. Without work, he had no purpose.

      Leif quirked a brow in his direction. “Do you love Justine?”

      That question came as another shock. “More than my life.” Seth had loved her when they were in high school and he’d carried a torch for her years afterward, too. She’d gone off to college and he’d half expected her to marry some rich boy there. But she’d returned to Cedar Cove, starting work at the bank. He’d never believed she would love him, didn’t even think it was a possibility.

      “You might listen to her, then,” his father advised.

      “I do listen, but she’s talking foolishness.”

      “You might be listening, but you’re not hearing her.”

      At that, Seth turned to stare at his father. “You’re saying I should let all those years of work go down the drain?”

      “No. I’m saying you need to listen to your wife.”

      “What am I supposed to do?” Seth flared. Everyone seemed to have an opinion but no one had offered him a solution.

      His father didn’t answer. A moment later, he casually continued the conversation. “I was talking to Larry Boone the other day,” Leif said as he tossed another pebble in the water. “You remember Larry, don’t you?”

      Seth nodded. His father had purchased a fishing boat from the other man. Seth had owned a half interest in the boat and when they sold it, they’d invested that money in the restaurant.

      “Larry’s looking for a salesman and asked if I’d be interested in coming out of retirement. The way he figured it, I’d been around fishing and boats all my life. He’s selling pleasure crafts, too, and offered me a commission that sounded almost too good to be true.”

      Seth thought his father was probably glad of an excuse to go back to work. Adjusting to retirement hadn’t been as easy as he’d assumed it would be. “Are you going to do it?” he asked.

      “I considered it,” his father said, grinning. “But then I talked to your mother, and she was dead set against it.” Leif rubbed the side of his face. “She’s been waiting all these years for us to travel. She’s got her heart set on buying one of those RVs and driving across the country. She isn’t about to let me take up a second career at this stage.”

      Seth chuckled, understanding his father’s advice. “So that’s the reason you’re telling me I need to listen to my wife. You’re listening to yours.”

      His father chuckled, too. “You know your mother. When she wants something, she makes sure I hear about it.”

      Seth did know and love his mother, and he had to agree she generally found ways of getting what she wanted. He loved the give and take of his parents’ marriage, and their ability to compromise.

      “I don’t much like the idea of driving one of those battleships,” Leif admitted, “but I’ll do it, and by the time we get back, my guess is I’ll be able to park that thing as slick as any boat I ever steered.”

      Seth didn’t doubt it for an instant.

      “I phoned Larry this morning,” he went on, “and told him I had to refuse.”

      “Was he disappointed?”

      “He was,” Leif said, “so I gave him your number and suggested he call you.”

      “Me?” Seth asked. “You think I can sell boats?”

      “Why not? You know as much about fishing as I do, and what you don’t know about pleasure crafts you can learn. The money’s good, and it’ll help you fill in the time until you decide about the restaurant.”

      Seth needed to talk to Justine. This idea suddenly seemed right to him, but he wanted a few days to mull it over.

      He sat with his father a while longer, chatting companionably about friends and neighbors, then headed home. Justine was vacuuming when Seth walked in and didn’t hear him. He stopped to admire her as she worked. Her long hair flowed unrestrained down her back and her lithe body moved gracefully as she pushed the vacuum cleaner. Justine’s concentration on any task was always complete; it was one of the many traits he loved.

      He regretted their argument and was sorry for the things he’d said.

      When she turned and saw him standing just inside the door, she jumped, startled. “Seth!” She switched off the vacuum cleaner. “When did you get home?”

      “Just now.” He walked toward her. “Where’s Leif?”

      “Preschool. I need to pick him up in half an hour.” Her gaze didn’t meet his as she swept the hair away from her face. “Did the sheriff have any news?”

      He shook his head. “He