Twice in a Lifetime. Marta Perry

      “I’m on duty in an hour, but I figured I’d catch you jogging and get in a private chat.” He glanced toward the cottage. “How’s Miz Callie?”

      “Fine. Feisty as ever.”

      “You find out what’s going on with her yet?”

      She hesitated. The last thing Miz Callie had said to her the previous evening was a plea to keep this quiet, at least for a while, from the family. She’d tell them when she was ready. And maybe, just maybe, Georgia could get her to forget the whole naming thing before anyone exploded.

      “Here’s the thing.” It looked as if she could practice on Adam, who was bound to be more receptive than the older generation. “We talked a little, and honestly, she seems to have logical reasons for most of the things that have the parents so upset.”

      “Stands to reason Daddy and Uncle Brett and Uncle Harrison would overreact. They always do egg each other on.”

      Like you and Cole. Their middle sibling piloted a Coast Guard jet in Florida, intercepting drug runners and potential terrorists. It was dangerous, much as Daddy played that down.

      “Still.” His lean face was troubled. “There’s been talk about the property over on Jones Island. You probably don’t know, being up to Atlanta so much, but prices on the barrier islands have skyrocketed lately. Jones Island won’t be uninhabited much longer.”

      She shrugged, since there was nothing she could safely say on that subject. “That land does belong to Miz Callie, after all. Came down in her family, not Granddad’s, not that it makes much difference.”

      “Well, sure, I don’t care what she does with it. I just don’t want to see some shady lawyer cheating her over it, if she’s decided to sell.”

      “We don’t know that he’s shady.” An image of Matt’s face formed in her mind. Tough, workaholic, stubborn and inexorable as the tide. But shady? Even on short acquaintance, she found she doubted that.

      “We don’t know what she’s doing.” Adam sounded frustrated. “That’s what’s driving everyone crazy. Haven’t you found out anything yet?”

      “I’ve barely gotten settled in,” she reminded him. “And she is talking to me. If everyone would just give us a little time, I’m sure things will settle down.” She hoped.

      He slung his arm around her shoulders and hugged her, as if he heard the uncertainty that clung to her. “Sorry, Little Bit. I didn’t mean to fuss at you. But the folks…”

      “Well, since you won’t get married to rescue me from their disapproval, could you at least convince them I need a little time? Get them to stop calling me for a progress report every few hours.”

      “Guess I can do that much for you.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll try to head them off, but sooner or later—”

      “I know. But Miz Callie’s got her back up. I’d just as soon we not start a family fight over this.”

      “You’ve got your work cut out for you, sugar.” He tugged at her ponytail. “I’d better get going. It’s good to have you here, you know, instead of way up in Atlanta.”

      “It’s good to see you.” A wave of love for her big brother swept over her. She threw her arms around him in a hug, then stepped back, feeling better.

      He grinned, winking at her. “Later.” He went off at an easy lope.

      She turned, looking out at the beach. Apparently she wasn’t the only person who liked an early morning run. Matt Harper jogged slowly past the house, his gaze fixed on her as if wondering whom she’d been talking to—and why.

      It was late afternoon after a frustrating workday when Matt crossed the sand to where Miz Callie sat. The tide was out, and the beach, glistening and empty, invited him. It had been a relief to change out of office clothes and step outside to this.

      “Miz Callie.” He nodded to his daughter, who was in the surf with Georgia. “I hope Lindsay’s not being a pest.”

      “Not at all.” She tilted the brim of her straw sun hat back to look at him. “Georgia needed someone to play with, and your housekeeper had some laundry to finish up.”

      “Georgia might not like hearing you refer to her as if she were about eight,” he said, and Miz Callie chuckled.

      Lindsay was batting a red and white-striped beach ball to Georgia. Knee-deep in the water, she looked more relaxed and open than he’d seen her in months.

      “They’ve been having a good time.” Miz Callie was watching them, too, and her face curved with a reminiscent smile. “It’s like old times, having Georgia here.”

      “It must have been a circus when all your grandchildren were young.”

      “My land, yes.” Her smile broadened. “What one of them didn’t think of, the others did. Seems like only yesterday they were all children, romping on the beach, and now they’re grown up, with lives of their own.”

      And too busy to spend time with their grandmother? He wondered if that were the case. If so, she probably wouldn’t say. It would seem disloyal to her.

      “At least you have Georgia back for a while.”

      Until he and Georgia figured out what to do about the memory of Ned Bodine. He’d hoped to have the chance to start a preliminary search today, but Rod had called him in to help with another client. He and Georgia really needed to sit down and talk through how they were going to approach this, little though she might want to work with him.

      “Why don’t you get into the game? I’m sure Lindsay would like that.”

      “Good idea.” And maybe he could get a moment or two with Georgia to make some plans. Pulling off his T-shirt, he ran across the wet sand to the water.

      Georgia threw the beach ball to Lindsay, but the breeze took it, lifting it out of her reach. He grabbed it.

      Lindsay charged toward him, animated. “Me—throw it to me!”

      He tossed the beach ball to her, and she threw it to Georgia. Georgia hesitated a moment, clutching the ball. Her damp hair curled around her face, and sunlight glinted off her skin.

      “Maybe your dad wants to take over the game now,” she suggested.

      “No, no!” Lindsay jumped up and down in the water. “Don’t quit now, Georgia.”

      “Don’t quit now, Georgia,” he echoed. He looked at her with a challenge in his gaze. She surely wouldn’t stop playing with his child just because he was there.

      “All right.” Her smile lit. “We have three, so we can play Monkey in the Middle. My brothers always made me be the monkey first, because I was the smallest. So that’s you, Lindsay.”

      “I can jump high.” She bounced, facing Georgia and waving her arms.

      “Here goes.” Georgia didn’t make it easy for Lindsay, tossing it well over her head on the first throw. But a couple of tosses later, she threw the ball a little low, and Lindsay grabbed it.

      “You’re the monkey,” she said, giggling.

      For a moment his eyes misted. How long had it been since he’d heard that giggle? How long since he and Lindsay had really played together?

      They batted the ball back and forth, keeping it away from Georgia even though she lunged for it as if she were a kid again. When she almost succeeded, he made a dive and grabbed it away just as her fingers touched it.

      “No fair.” She splashed him. “My brothers always did that, too, because they’re taller than I am.”

      “You’re mad because Lindsay and I are so good at this game.” He tossed it to his daughter, loving the sound of her laugh, wondering again why he hadn’t thought of doing