The Promise of Home. Kathryn Springer

       “Just this once,” Tori agreed cheerfully.

       No one believed her.

       “Come on.” Dev grabbed the bucket and strode down the dock.

       At the edge of the shoreline everyone, including Jenna, release a collective breath as Fred propelled himself into the deeper water with a graceful swish of his back tail fin. Along with the bluegill Dev had planned to have for supper that night.

       Tori clapped her hands. “Fred’s going home.”

       “I’m going to follow him.” Logan leaped to his feet.

       “Wait for me.” Tori followed, chasing after her brother through the waves that lapped the shoreline. Violet tore after them, barking her approval.

       Dev had a hunch his company was going to seem pretty boring from now on.

       “They’re good kids.” Dev watched Logan pause to grab his little sister’s hand when she stumbled in the wet sand.

       “They are.” There it was again. That brief flash of vulnerability Dev had seen in Jenna’s eyes the day before. “Sometimes I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with them.”

       “Another reason to wear something more practical on your feet.” Dev couldn’t resist teasing her a little. Call him a glutton for punishment, but he wanted to see that mischievous smile again.

       “I do have another pair of shoes.” Jenna’s chuff of indignation stirred a ribbon of silver-blond hair on her forehead. “I just didn’t think I’d need them. I didn’t plan to be in Mirror Lake for more than a day or two.”

       Dev could relate. He’d arrived at his grandfather’s old fishing cabin for a weekend. Five years ago.

       “So what made you decide to stay?”

       Jenna was silent for so long, Dev didn’t think she was going to answer the question.

       “My sister.”

       It was a little unsettling to discover they had something in common. Jenna had come to Mirror Lake because of her sister and Dev was there because of his brother.

       “This is a good place.” Dev watched a young bald eagle spin a lazy circle over the treetops. “Kids need room to roam.”

       Jenna’s lips compressed, a sign she didn’t agree with him. “That reminds me. I’m sorry that Logan interrupted your day. I guess I need to have a talk with him about boundaries.”

       Dev remembered the look of wonder on Logan’s face when he’d offered him the fishing pole.

       “I didn’t mind. And he can fish off my dock anytime he wants to—”

       Jenna was already shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

       “It’s safe as long as he’s not down here alone. Even at the end of the dock, the water isn’t over his head.”

       “That’s not it. I don’t want Logan or Tori to get too attached to…this place.”

       “I thought Logan said they lived here.” From what the children had said the day before, he assumed their mother had bought it.

       Jenna shook her head. “My sister rented the cabin for the summer. It’s temporary. When she gets home, I’m hoping I can convince her to move closer to me.”

       From the expression on Jenna’s face, that day couldn’t come soon enough.

       Why that bothered him, Dev didn’t know. Especially since he’d dropped a not-so-subtle hint that she wouldn’t last a week.

       Tori skipped up to them and tugged on Jenna’s arm. “I found a spider on a tree over there, Aunt Jenna. Do you want to take its picture, too?”

       Too?

       Dev glanced at Jenna and saw twin patches of color underline the sculpted cheekbones.

       “No thanks, sweetie.”

       Logan joined them. “But it’s bigger than the one you found this morning.”

       Dev had to ask. He just had to. “Did she scream?”

       Logan thought about that. “A little.”

       “It was in the bathtub,” Tori added. “And it was huuuge.”

       “Aunt Jenna took its picture. She said it was so big that we could put a leash on it and take it for a walk around the block—”

       “Why don’t you two go inside and get washed up?” Jenna cut in. “We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

       As far as diversions went, it might not have been subtle but it was effective. The children headed toward the cabin. Dev grabbed hold of Violet’s collar before she included herself in the invitation.

       “So. A spider.” Dev’s lips twitched.

       “I’m sure you’ve seen them before,” Jenna said tartly.

       “Not one that I could put a leash on and take for a walk around the block.”

       Jenna whipped out her phone again and scrolled through the pictures, stopping at the close-up of a spider roughly the size of the designer dog Elaina had carried around in her purse.

       Dev blinked. Okay, it was that big.

       “What did you do? Throw your shoe at it?” He’d been kidding…until he saw the guilty look on Jenna’s face.

       “You threw your shoe at it?”

       “Yes, but I didn’t think I’d actually hit it.”

       “I’m shocked.”

       “So was I.” The husky laugh that followed packed more of a punch than Jenna’s smile.

       While Dev was recovering from the impact, she veered toward the cabin. Tossed a smug look over her shoulder.

       “And you said they weren’t practical.”

       Dev closed his eyes, but there she was—engraved in his memory—ready to return at a moment’s notice.

       So maybe Jenna wasn’t a clone of Elaina, but she was obviously a city girl.

       There was no point getting involved with someone who’d made no secret of the fact that she couldn’t wait to leave Mirror Lake, the only place in the world that Dev wanted to be.

       Jenna was right. Boundaries weren’t such a bad idea.

       For all of them.

      Chapter Five

      “Helloooo!”

       A lilting voice rose above the rattle of the ancient ceiling fan that paddled in lazy circles above Jenna’s head, dispersing humid air to every corner of the cabin.

       The children, who’d been playing a lively game of Go Fish while Jenna washed the breakfast dishes, leaped to their feet.

       “It’s Kate!” Logan shouted on his way to the door.

       Jenna tried not to feel envious. Even though the cafe owner had gone out of her way to make Jenna feel welcome since she’d arrived in Mirror Lake, the children’s exuberant greeting was a painful reminder that Kate Nichols knew her niece and nephew better than she did.

       The petite redhead scooped up Tori and anchored her against one slender hip. “How are you doing, strawberry shortcake?”

       Tori giggled. “I’m not shortcake.”

       “That’s right.” Kate’s clover green eyes twinkled. “You’re much sweeter.” She planted a kiss on the little girl’s temple and reached down to ruffle Logan’s bangs. “How are you doing, buddy?”

       “I caught a fish