"No," Isabel said, shaking her head as her features clouded with immediate worry. "She wasn't there when I got there. Penny told me Linda had gone down to the local hardware store to gather some renovation supplies for the mansion."
Owen's brow furrowed as he processed the conflicting timeline.
"Can you call Penny back and find out if she has returned to the estate yet? I'll call the hardware store directly and ask the staff to locate her down the aisles," he asked her.
"Sure," Isabel told him, already retreating a few steps toward the shade of the veranda as she retrieved her own phone to dial the lighthouse property.
Owen dialed the local hardware shop on the main strip, his anxiety deepening when the clerk on the other end ran a quick check and confirmed that Linda had not been through the registers all morning. He frowned, hung up, and decided to try her personal number anyway despite Maggie's previous rejections. Owen pressed the dial button, listening to the long, empty rings before the line rolled to voicemail. He tried a second time, getting the same result. On his third consecutive attempt, the line finally clicked and connected.
"Hi Owen, I'm on my way back to the hotel now," Linda's voice came through, sounding slightly breathless over the speaker. "Sorry I wasn’t at the basin earlier. I had a quick errand to run for Penny."
Owen frowned, his gaze tracking the chalk markers on the basin floor. He wondered if she had driven all the way over to the larger Sanibel hardware store instead of staying local, which would easily explain the delay.
"That's okay. Listen, Maggie has been trying to reach you for the last hour." He didn't waste time softening the blow, delivering the direct facts about George's sudden collapse, the acute blood pressure spike, and the transition to the intensive care unit. "You need to get to the hospital immediately."
A sharp gasp of pure alarm rattled through the phone's microphone.
"What? I... I have to go." The line cut out as Linda disconnected the call.
Owen lowered the device, exhaling a long breath as Isabel walked back over to his side.
"I found her," he said quietly, his posture relaxing slightly now that the message had been delivered.
"I just let Penny know we located her. She's heading out to the medical center as well." Isabel offered a small, reassuring nod.
"I should go," Owen said, the urgency of the medical crisis pushing past his academic focus for the day. He started walking toward the concrete ramp, his heavy boots clicking against the structure. "I have to go locate Martin and break the news to him before he hears it from a secondary source." He paused at the edge of the slope, turning back to look at her as a sudden wave of hesitation hit him. "Sorry, I..."
Isabel closed the distance between them, her fingers coming up to touch his forearm with a deep, compassionate warmth that instantly anchored his thoughts.
"Go." She gave him a soft smile.
It made the ice around his heart crumble, and he swallowed, not allowing himself to ponder the feeling. Now was definitely not the time. If he was truly falling for Isabel, he wanted to come analyze this feeling at a better time. Not a moment tainted with the pain and delicate situation George was in.
Owen let out a ragged breath, the relief of her support breaking through his defenses. Before he could stop himself, beforehis rational mind could intervene and dictate the professional boundaries he always kept securely in place, he leaned down and kissed her. It was a reflex action that he barely realized he had executed until their lips actually touched. The world shrank to a pinpoint, the ambient sounds of the bay and the distant chatter of the tweens fading into nothingness as their eyes locked for a split second. A sharp, rustling noise from the veranda yanked them apart. Both of their faces were blazing crimson as they stepped back, the physical contact breaking with an awkward jerk.
"I'd better... um... I should go," Owen stammered, his fingers catching the hem of his canvas vest. He stood there on the concrete ramp, feeling as though he had sprouted deep roots because his boots refused to move an inch.
"Yes, you should," Isabel agreed quickly, breathless as she straightened her shoulders. "They’re waiting for you." Yet she, too, remained fixed to the exact spot, her eyes wide as she stared back at him.
"Hey!" Martin shouted from the far side of the pool enclosure, his loud voice breaking the thick spell that had settled over the ramp. "We need to go. It's..." Martin halted his stride, his eyes scanning the grass layout to where Linda's and Michael's kids were standing near the veranda before he quickly altered his explanation. "...it's that meeting we need to get to. Hurry up, we're late."
Owen kept his gaze fixed on Isabel, his tone softening. "I have to go. Will you wait for me and meet me later?"
He could see the utter surprise mirroring across her features, her eyebrows rising in a flash of astonishment. He was just as surprised by the words that had just escaped his lips.
"Yes," Isabel said. Her eyes widened a fraction more, as if her lips had just taken over operational control from her brain, just like his had, and she’d answered before she could analyze the invitation.
"I'll message you," Owen found himself saying, his boots finally moving in the direction he needed to go. His brain had seriously lost control of his mouth, and he admonished himself internally for the uncharacteristic behavior.
"Come on!" Martin shouted a second time. Hurry. We’re going in my car, not your old banger, as we need to get there fast." He noticed Martin shake his head as he muttered loud enough for Owen to hear. “Or get there at all.”
Owen gave Isabel one last look and then went after Martin.
They climbed into the sparkling pickup truck, the engine roaring to life as Martin threw the transmission into reverse and backed out of the car park. The vehicle hurried down the main strip heading toward the bridge.
"Did Maggie give you any more specific details about George’s condition?" Owen asked, leaning his arm against the passenger window frame as he tried to steady his thoughts.
Martin gripped the steering wheel, his expression tight as he navigated the coastal turn.
