The Driftwood Promise

Chapter 1

One

The sun burned orange as it drifted closer to the ocean, and Erin paused in her paddling to bask in the glory of it. It had been unusually hot for the past week, but as day slipped into evening, the air stirred with a hint of a cool sea breeze. She couldn’t imagine a more stunning evening to be out kayaking the cove with her brother. They’d paddled all the way down to the southern end of Angel Beach—three miles from home—and were just now passing by Tidewater Point and Otter Island, which divided Angel Beach from Sea Glass Cove. With their unhurried pace, they probably wouldn’t reach Owen’s truck until well after sundown.

“This was a marvelous idea, big brother,” she remarked.

“I get them now and again.”

“You ought to work on getting them more often.” She beamed at him. “It’s good to have you back.”

He looked at her, squinting against the brilliance of the westering sun. “Let’s not ruin a perfect evening by reminding me of when and why I wasn’t so happy, all right?”

“As you wish. So… when are Hope and Daphne supposed to be getting back from Montana?” she asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Excited?”

His grin was all the answer she needed.

Erin started paddling again and steered her kayak toward Owen’s, giving him a light bump. He regarded her with an amused smile and a brow lifted.

She wiggled her brows. “Race you back to the beach?”

“You want to race the full mile and a quarter?”

“Why not?”

“It’s been a while, and we’ve been paddling all day.”

“So?”

“All right.” He shoved his paddle in the water and shot ahead with a powerful stroke.

He might have vastly superior upper body strength, but she’d been kayaking a lot more in the last three years, and her strokes were smoother, more efficient, and she had no trouble keeping pace with him as they rounded Glass Island and headed into the pass between it and Stalwart Island. The current flowing around the islands forced her to focus on her task, but thrill coursed through her veins and she crowed. As they reached the sheltered waters of the cove, she dug in harder and shot ahead.

“Come on, old man!” she called back. “Keep up!”

“Be careful what you wish for, little girl.”

The ease with which he matched her pace even though he remained behind her made her nervous. He was toying with her, and as soon as they were within a quarter mile of the northern beach access, he hit the gas and zoomed past her. She scrambled to regain the lead.

They slid onto the sandy beach at the same time. Mirth erupted from her, and soon she was laughing too hard to crawl out of her kayak. Owen finally had to offer her a hand up.

“You great big turd,” she said, still chuckling. “You played me.”

“What?” he asked, grinning. “Did you seriously think I’d lost that much?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe for a minute.”

“Gotcha.”

“Har har. You’re hilarious.”

He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get these up to the truck.”

Movement at one of the houses on North Point caught her eye, and she glanced up to see a figure striding across the deck of the St. Cloud cottage. From the distance, she couldn’t be sure if it was a man or woman. “I thought you said Hope and Daphne weren’t going to be back until tomorrow.”

“They aren’t. She called from her parents just before we headed out in the kayaks. There’s no way they could be back yet.”

“Then who’s that on the deck of the St. Cloud cottage?”

“Gideon must have come out early.” Owen frowned. “But just in case, maybe we ought to stop by on our way up to my place.”

“I hope it’s Gideon.”

“Do you now? I didn’t realize he made such an impression on you at the summer solstice.”

Erin rolled her eyes, but she didn’t dare contradict him. He was plenty observant and would notice the hitch in her pulse. “What if it’s a burglar?”

“We’ll tie an anchor to his bootstraps and send him down to meet Davy Jones.”

Erin hip-bumped him. “You know, I can’t remember the last time you joked around like this. Remind me to thank Hope when she gets home.”

They’d made better time across the cove than she’d thought they would, and as they carried the kayaks up the beach and through the sand dunes to the northern parking area, the ruby sun disappeared beneath the waves and the horizon darkened from molten yellow to the deep red of dying coals. Glancing again at the St. Cloud cottage as she strapped herself into the passenger seat of Owen’s truck, she spotted an SUV in the driveway—which she could see now, from this angle—and it looked familiar.

“That’s Gideon’s car, isn’t it?”

“Looks like it.”

“Guess we won’t have to introduce anyone to Davy Jones tonight.”

Erin rolled her window down and rested her head far enough over on the head rest for the wind to cool her face. Hot August nights indeed. Her eyes drifted closed and her lips curved. In this moment, cruising up the highway to North Point Loop with her brother, she was at peace with the world and everything in it.

“Yeah, that’s Gideon’s car,” Owen said.

Without opening her eyes, she felt the truck slow and swerve before coming to a stop, and she guessed Owen had pulled over in front of the St. Cloud cottage.

“I know I said today was supposed to be a day for just us,” he said, “but would you mind if I invite Gideon and Liam over to join us? It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

“I guess that’d be all right.”

Owen climbed out of the truck, and as soon as his door closed behind him, she lifted her head and watched him stride around to the French doors at the back of the cottage. Why did no one use the front door of this place? Her eyes sought the living room window overlooking the driveway, hoping for a glimpse of Gideon, but the curtains were still drawn.

Owen returned quickly and slid in behind the wheel. “He’s going to bring his bags in, and then he’ll be over.”

“They don’t want to light the candles first?”

“I didn’t ask, but Gideon didn’t seem like he was in the mood to do it.”

She only nodded, not trusting her voice to hide her intrigue at the prospect of seeing Hope’s cousin again. As Owen had pointed out earlier, Gideon had made an impression during his brief visit back in June. More of an impression than any man since Chaz.

She sneered. She would not taint tonight by thinking of him.

“Hey, what’s that look for?” Owen asked. “You want me to go back and rescind the invitation?”

“No,” she replied quickly—probably too quickly. “That frown wasn’t about him.”

“Then what was it for?”

She sighed, closed her eyes again, and echoed what he’d said to her by Otter Island. “Let’s not ruin tonight with memories of less happy times.”

“I’m down with that.”

She opened one eye. “What kind of man follows a phrase like ‘rescind the invitation’ with ‘I’m down with that’?”

“One who’s trying to erase that sneer from your face.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ve got something that’ll really wipe it off your face,” he said, pulling into his driveway. “And I want to show it to you before Gideon comes over, so get your butt out of my truck. We’ll get the kayaks later.” The grin he flashed her was pure mischief. “Or maybe we’ll leave them and go out again tomorrow.”

“But Hope and Daphne will be home tomorrow.”

“So? We’ve already planned a barbecue on the beach. Why not take Daph out in the kayaks, too? She hasn’t been out in them yet. We could switch off—Hope and Daphne with me, Mom with Red… and Gideon with you.”

Erin groaned. “Don’t you dare think about playing matchmaker, Owen. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone. Ever.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“I’m serious, Owen.”

“So am I. You spent three years trying to pull me out of the shadows. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

“Yeah… and you’ll fail just like I did.”

With bitterness seeping through her, she stalked ahead of him toward this front door.

“Hey.” He grabbed her hand and spun her around to face him. “You didn’t fail.”

“Didn’t I? It took meeting Hope to bring you out of it.” Because her voice had a hard edge to it, she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “And that’s okay. I don’t care what brought you out of it. I’m just glad to see you happy again.”

“You ever think that maybe the reason you couldn’t do it was because that part of me never broke?”

“Sure felt like it did.”

She didn’t mean to say it, and she winced when guilt darkened his handsome face. A sound that was part growl and part whimper rattled low in her throat. The grief of the last three years couldn’t fade fast enough.

“I’m sorry, Erin,” he murmured. “I never meant to shut you out.”

“I know you didn’t.” She hugged herself. “Can we stop talking like this? Please?”

“Sorry. But, for the record, I was joking around—sort of. You’re the one who took it—”

“All right! You win!” she groaned. “Just show me whatever it is you want me to see. Because the curiosity is killing me.”

With a twinkle in his sea-green eyes, he held the door open for her. Unsure where he wanted her to go, she wandered into his dining room and slid her fingers over the two abalone shells sitting in the middle of his table. The smaller he’d found the day he’d met Sam. The larger had been the sign he’d needed to let go of the past and fully embrace his future with Hope… whatever it might bring. There was a third he’d kept hidden for three years that was now displayed beside his cash register in the Sea Glass Gallery, and she shuddered. The story of how he’d found that one chilled her.

Hugging herself, she looked around and realized he’d disappeared. “Owen?”

“Coming,” he called from upstairs.

Moments later, he trotted into the dining room with a tiny box in hand. Her eyes rounded as he handed it to her. It didn’t take too many guesses to figure out what was inside, but even though it was obvious, she inhaled sharply when she opened the box.

Cushioned on midnight blue velvet was one of the most exquisite and unique engagement rings she’d ever seen. It was traditional enough in shape—a smooth band of platinum that flared to embrace a round diamond—but it was what her brother had painstakingly laid into the channels beside the diamond that made it one-of-a-kind. The highly polished, iridescent abalone shell shimmered in the light of the chandelier over his table.

“Oh my God, Owen! This is gorgeous. And you made it entirely yourself?”

“Not entirely, but mostly. I had some help from Hoyt down at Sea Gems. It took me a few tries to get it right. I’ve never worked with platinum before.”

“When are you planning to propose?”

“Don’t know yet. I figured I’d give her some time to settle in first.”

Erin briefly glanced at him, but her gaze was drawn like a magnet back to the ring. It was so true to her brother and so perfect for Hope that she couldn’t find words adequate to describe the joy and the pride that swelled in her heart. Finally, she pushed the ring back into the protective velvet and set the box in his palm. She looked up at him. “This is a big deal, Owen.”

“Yes, it is.”

If she had ever doubted how he felt about Hope, the love that glowed in his eyes right now silenced it. And even as her happiness for her brother threatened to overwhelm her, the old bitterness crept back in. She had no idea what that felt like—that wonderfully consuming bond—but she craved it.

Right then, a knock sounded on the front door, saving her from the inevitable plunge into despair. Her brother jogged to answer it, and her lips curved. How could she be in danger of being lost to that relentless tide tonight? The promise of a bright future full of love and happiness for her brother drowned out everything else.

Moments later, Owen returned with Gideon on his heels, and Erin couldn’t help it. She raked her gaze over him with one corner of her mouth lifted in feminine appreciation. With a neatly trimmed anchor goatee and rich, shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a tail that reminded her a lot of Orlando Bloom’s character in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, Gideon St. Cloud was a delectable distraction. And those eyes, so dark and warm…. They threatened to swallow her. His frame and bone structure, lighter and more angular than her brother’s, might be the product of his St. Cloud genes, but the darker coloring that set him apart from Hope and her daughter was entirely the gift of his Spanish grandmother.

“Gideon, you remember my sister Erin?”

“I do indeed.” He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing a knightly kiss to her knuckles. “Buenas noches, bonita.”

“Yes, it is a good evening,” she remarked, trying not to snort at his flirtatious greeting. She was pretty enough, but she’d never dream of calling herself a beautiful lady. That description she reserved for her mother, her late sister-in-law, and now Hope. Besides, if she were to give even half a second’s thought to his endearment, she’d have to admit how it affected her.

Then she noticed a weariness in his eyes that sharply contrasted the gleam of merriment she remembered from their first meeting. He was hiding it, but not well. The desire to mock his greeting vanished. Softly, she said, “Welcome home to Sea Glass Cove, Gideon.”

“Thank you. This is going to sound really pathetic, but when Owen stopped by and asked if I wanted to join him and you….” He shook his head. “You guys make me feel exactly what you said—like I’m coming home. I need that right now.”

Whoa. This was nothing like the Gideon she’d met at the summer solstice party. That Gideon had laughed and cracked joke after joke, seemingly without a care in the world. If she remembered right, it had been over eight months now since he’d broken up with Hannah—he’d called it quits right about the same time Hope’s divorce had been finalized. That was plenty of time to adjust to bachelorhood, so why was he worse now than he had been in June?

“Where’s Liam?” she asked. “I thought Hope said he’d be coming out with you.”

“That was the plan. Hannah changed it. Again.”

“So it’s just you and the dog?”

He nodded.

“For how long?” Owen asked.

“Not a clue. Maybe until our custody hearing.” Gideon snorted. “Maybe never. She’s refusing to agree to anything in the plan I came up with, so God only knows which of us will end up with custody of Liam.”

“When’s the hearing?”

“Almost a month away—the first of September.”

The shift in his expression toward black despair made Erin uncomfortable, and suddenly, she thought it might be a good idea for her to head home so he and her brother could talk, man to man. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I should probably go. It’s my day to open the restaurant tomorrow, and after our exertions today, I could probably use… the… rest.”

The blatant plea in those dark eyes stole the breath from her lungs.

“Please don’t go,” he said quietly.

She was torn. Habits as old as she could remember had her itching to get away, but she couldn’t ignore the inexplicable and potent reluctance to disappoint him. She glanced—as she often did—to her brother for reassurance.

“It’s not that late yet, sis,” he replied with a gentleness that belied his casual words.

He knew her better than anyone, but since the accident, he hadn’t had the energy or focus or whatever it was that allowed him to sense even the tiniest shifts in her mood, and to see that insightful intensity back in his gaze again now was a jolt. He sensed her uncertainty, and that did a lot to alleviate it. Then it occurred to her that uncertainty wasn’t the only thing he was likely to sense now that he wasn’t so lost in his grief, and her heart accelerated. How much longer was he going to be satisfied with her vague explanation of why she’d left Chaz?

“Besides,” he continued, “I thought we were going to stay up and watch the stars come out.”

She shifted her gaze to Gideon. The way he held her gaze, begging her to stay….

He needed something from her. What, she had no idea, and she doubted he did, either. That scared her. A jesting, nonchalant man she could handle, but one fighting an emotional battle that tugged at her heartstrings was dangerous. She was alone for a reason, even if watching her brother fall in love with Hope tempted her to forget that.

“Fine,” she said with dramatic exasperation. “I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“Don’t make me twist your arm or anything,” Gideon teased.

The return of some of the playfulness that had captured her attention at their families’ summer solstice party made it easier to reach into her brother’s fridge and pull out the pitcher of lemonade. She grabbed three glasses and filled them.

“No arm twisting necessary,” she said as she handed a glass to Gideon and nodded her head toward Owen’s deck.

The men followed her outside, and she perched a safe distance away on the railing while they took seats at the glass-topped table to enjoy a cold lemonade on a sultry night. Erin studied Gideon covertly, but he seemed to have pushed his worries away for the time being, and she let out a breath. As much of a relief as it was to see him smiling again—even if some of the twinkle was missing from his eyes—she couldn’t quiet the sympathy triggered by his vulnerability. It was the same ache she’d felt deep in her soul watching her brother suffer.

Sighing, she took a long drink of lemonade. I hope I don’t end up regretting not walking away when I had the chance.