Secrets Between Them. C.J. Carmichael

been about a third of a bottle left when she went to bed, but now both bottles were empty.

      At the table, everyone was silent for a moment. Nick scooped more pancake onto his fork. “Very Parisian,” he pronounced.

      “They say you can add white wine to anything,” her father said.

      Obviously he’d been watching too many cooking shows.

      “That may be true, but I hope you didn’t add any to the coffee.” Ruth picked up her mug and sniffed the steaming liquid suspiciously.

      Her father laughed and Jennifer forced herself to join in, though she strongly suspected Ruth had not meant her comment as a joke.

      “Eat up,” her father said. “I’ve got plenty more in the kitchen.” He joined her by the griddle, picked up the spatula. “Why don’t you sit down at the counter and eat, too, Jennifer? I’ve got this covered.”

      She’d been about to suggest she defrost some muffins she kept in the freezer for emergencies. But she could just imagine how her father’s face would fall if she did that. He was so pleased with himself, with his efforts to save her the trouble of preparing breakfast for once.

      His intentions were good. But why, oh why, couldn’t he have followed the recipe that she, and her mother before her, had been using with great success for the past thirty years?

      “Thanks, Dad. I’d love some pancakes.”

      He carefully flipped three onto a plate and handed it to her. “You work too hard, Jennifer. I should handle breakfast for you more often.”

      “…NINE AND TEN,” MOLLY Springfield finished counting, then curled her spine up from the yoga mat and rested her palms on her knees. “That’s it for this morning, everyone. Please take your time coming up from the floor.”

      Molly moved to the back of the room where she gradually brightened the lighting and lowered the thermostat to normal room temperature. She toweled off her face and the back of her neck, then slipped a light, hooded jacket over her bright red sports bra.

      A few of the participants were rising now. One of the first, as usual, was Jennifer. She had a lithe body and the postures came to her easily. But she tended to approach each session like a workout, rather than the spiritual refresher it was meant to be.

      Observing Jennifer roll up her yoga mat quickly and efficiently, Molly reflected that if anyone needed the relaxing, calming effects of yoga, it was Jennifer. She was always rushing, always busy, too thin, too stressed. She ran the family business practically on her own and had to look after not only her elderly father, but now her aunt, as well.

      Then there were her volunteer projects.

      Jennifer never turned down anyone who asked for a favor. She was so kindhearted. Too kindhearted. A few times now Molly had tried to convince her that she took on too much, but she wouldn’t listen. Still, Jennifer was her best friend on the island and Molly did not intend to give up on her.

      A gray-haired grandmother of five smiled up at Molly from the floor. Agnes was still fully reclined on her mat, looking refreshed and relaxed. “That was great, Molly. My hips feel so much better since I started coming here.”

      “I’m glad you made it out today, Agnes.”

      “Wouldn’t miss it. Especially now that all the kiddies are back in school.” Agnes rolled onto her side, then gently eased her body into a sitting position. She’d had surgery three months ago, but you’d never know to look at her now.

      Though she’d been the first up from the floor, Jennifer waited until all the others had left before she approached Molly.

      “Thanks, I needed that.”

      “Can you stay for a cup of tea?”

      Jennifer’s cheeks, already rosy, seemed to go hotter. “Not today. Sorry.”

      “Errands?”

      “Um…” Jennifer fussed with the zipper on her sweatshirt.

      “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

      “No. No.”

      Molly followed her friend out of the renovated garage to the garden. Across the street the Kincaid’s beautiful Victorian home was a familiar, benevolent presence. Molly waved at Justine Kincaid who was sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair. It looked like she was nursing six-month-old Erica. The two of them were alone this week, as Harrison had taken his daughter Autumn to Seattle for the week.

      Molly focused on Jennifer again. Sometimes a blunt question was the only way to find out what you wanted to know. “So why can’t you stay for tea?”

      Jennifer’s gaze shifted to the side. “It’s just that I have this new guest who wants a tour of the island.”

      “I hope you’re charging for your services.”

      Jennifer looked at her blankly.

      “Come on, Jenn. If you’re going to give up an entire afternoon to show this guest around the island, you ought to be properly reimbursed for your time.”

      Jennifer was still staring at her as if she were speaking in a foreign language. “I never even thought of charging him.”

      Him. Suddenly Molly saw the situation in a new light. “How old is he, Jenn? Is he cute? Is he single?”

      As she peppered questions at her friend, Jennifer’s cheeks grew brighter than ever. Molly grinned. This was great. Jennifer was going out with a guy.

      And speaking of the guy, this must be him now, driving up in a dilapidated-looking Land Rover. Molly had an indistinct glimpse of a dark-haired man with a lean face. Then he jumped out of the driver’s seat and headed toward them.

      “Oh, he is cute, Jenn. Yum. He doesn’t have a friend or a brother, does he?”

      “Molly, it isn’t like that,” Jenn insisted. Yet, her color wasn’t settling down as the man approached.

      He was dressed in hiking boots, shorts and a light gray T-shirt. As he drew closer, Molly frowned. He reminded her of someone.

      As soon as he spoke, she remembered.

      “How was the class, Jennifer? I hope you aren’t too tired for our tour?”

      Jennifer said something in reply, but Molly didn’t hear her. She backed up until she felt the solid wall of her house behind her. Oh my God, she couldn’t believe this.

      Nick Lancaster. This could not be coincidence. How had he managed to track her to Summer Island?

      “THE CLASS WAS GREAT, NICK. Molly’s an excellent instructor.” Jennifer looked around and was surprised to realize she was now alone in the front yard.

      “Molly?” The front door of the cottage was closed. Maybe Molly didn’t want to be a third wheel…

      Jennifer nearly groaned, remembering Molly’s teasing. This wasn’t a date, she’d told her friend, but she wasn’t sure if Molly had believed her.

      It isn’t a date, she reminded herself, as Nick moved a little closer. She slipped a hoodie over her tank top, waiting as he checked out Molly’s house.

      “Why did your friend run inside like that?”

      “I’m not sure. I was hoping to introduce you.”

      “Have you known her a long time?”

      “About two years. She moved here from Toronto after her mother died.”

      “Her mother’s dead?”

      “Yes.” Now why would he have asked that? “She has no family at all anymore.”

      Nick’s expression grew thoughtful. “Summer Island is a long way from Toronto. Why do you suppose she moved here? Did she know anyone?”

      “No,