Falling For The Single Dad

She stiffened. “You do?” A throbbing low in her skull began to ache.

Honey tilted her head. “When the hurricane last September nearly destroyed the inn and the loan to rebuild came through so quickly, Amelia, Braeden and I made inquiries at the bank.”

Oh, that. Caroline willed her heart to settle.

“While others had to wait much longer for federal funds, we were able to begin rebuilding immediately.” Amelia squeezed her hand. “It was you who put up the money. I don’t know how you did it, but it was you who saved the house and put us back in business.”

Honey’s mouth quivered. “You saved my dream and something far more precious, time to rebuild my relationship with Sawyer so we could have our happily-ever-after.”

Tears stung Caroline’s eyes, but she shook her head. “You’re making it more than it was. Money was the least—”

“Not the least,” Amelia insisted. “Exactly what we needed when we needed it the most.”

Caroline shrugged. “Everything except myself.”

“You gave us what you could, which is why Amelia and I added your name to the title to the house.”

Caroline shook her head. “I never meant for you to do that. I lost my right to call the house my home a long time ago. I only wanted to help, not lay claim to anything.”

Honey’s arm went around Caroline, fixing Caroline in place between her sisters. As if they were both determined she wouldn’t run away again. Little did they realize, she was done running. Staying and facing the fallout of her actions was part of her healing. Essential to becoming whole once more.

“It’s a done deal. The Duer Fisherman’s Lodge is as it should have always been—owned and operated by the family. Braeden, Amelia, Patrick and Max Scott. Sawyer, me...” Honey patted her rounded belly. “And Baby Kole. Seth and Caroline Duer.”

Amelia jutted her jaw. “We’re laying claim to you. The house belongs to you as much as any of us. And we insist you stay in the unoccupied cabin during your summer program.”

“I already have a reservation at the motel in Onley.”

Honey brushed her hair off her shoulder. “Dexter Willett and I go back to high school. We trade clients when one or the other’s accommodations are full. So I called him and canceled your reservation.”

Caroline crossed her arms. “You did what, Beatrice Elizabeth Duer?”

Honey laughed. “Not even Sawyer gets to call me that. And it’s Kole now, Caroline Victoria Duer. Thanks in large part to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Amelia’s lips. “We’re not taking no for an answer.”

Caroline blew out a breath. “Daddy is not going to like it.”

Honey wound a strand of hair around her index finger. “You let me handle Daddy. He’ll come around.” She fluttered her lashes. “I’ve had time in the years since we last met to work on that whole steel gardenia thing.”

Caroline’s lips twitched. “I’ll just bet you have.”

Back in the day, Lindi, Caroline and Amelia had often moaned about how Honey could wind their father around her infant pinkie. Not to mention the Honey Effect, as Mom once called it, upon the entire male population of baby sister’s kindergarten class.

Caroline and Amelia exchanged amused looks. And for the first time, she felt a stirring of hope and the small beginnings of the sisterly camaraderie they’d shared. Until she threw everything away.

But enough with the regrets. The past was the past. Her sisters were offering her forgiveness and a way to move beyond the hurt.

“I’m sorry I missed your prom and graduations.” Caroline rubbed one hand against the bracelets. “Your weddings and the babies, too.”

“You’re here now.” Amelia grasped Caroline’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “You and Daddy need to make amends for both your sakes.”

Her blue-green eyes, so like their father’s, bored into Caroline. “And perhaps one day, when you’ve had time to get to know us again, you’ll feel safe enough to trust us with the why of your leaving.”

“I know I have a funny way of showing it, but I love you two,” Caroline whispered. “My leaving was meant to save you from worse pain.”

Honey wrapped her arms around Caroline. “That’s almost exactly what Sawyer said to me once when I told him how you left without an explanation.”

Amelia draped her arm across Caroline’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

For the first time in over a decade, instead of feeling trapped, Caroline felt rooted and restored.

Honey patted Caroline’s arm. “I left Sawyer in charge of finishing dinner. That cowboy of mine has many wonderful qualities, but cooking isn’t one of them. If you don’t relish my corn pudding burned to a crisp, we’d best be heading home.”

“Burning dinner won’t improve dear Dad’s disposition, either,” Amelia noted.

“Whatever you say.” Caroline adjusted the strap of her purse on her arm. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

“I want to go see Caroline and Turtle Mama.”

Weston flipped the clam fritter in the frying pan. Maybe if he pretended to be busy, Izzie would let this whole thing with the beautiful aquatic vet go.

Perched on a kitchen stool in the lightkeeper’s quarters, Izzie kicked the island with her sneakered foot. Bam. Bam. Bam. “Daddy?”

Bam. Bam. Bam.

“Fritters are almost ready, Izz. Can you set the table?”

Bam. Bam. Bam. He grimaced.

“Daddy...”

The dull thuds continued. Relentless as a jackhammer, she was going to drive him crazy. Which, he acknowledged, was probably the point in her dogged barrage on the wooden counter. To drive him crazy or make him take her to Wachapreague.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

He adjusted the heat on the gas range and wiped his hands on the dish towel slung across his shoulder. “Stop with the drumbeat. I told you Dr. Duer called and said the turtle came through surgery as well as could be expected. We’ll check on the turtle’s status again in the morning. It’s time for dinner.”

“Why can’t we go see Turtle Mama after dinner?”

Izzie’s pluck and hardheadedness would be assets in the workforce one day. He took a deep breath. Provided a deeply patient boss interpreted those qualities as persistence and initiative.

“We can’t go because...” He also reminded himself he was the one with the Coast Guard Academy degree. Surely he could outwit a fourth grader.

She cocked her head at him.

“Because...” His rationale slipped like sand between his fingers.