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“Suppose I’m still learning how to weather them,” I confessed, scratching an itch on my cheek where a stray hair tickled. “Moon Harbor’s tides are different from the city’s.”
“Give it time. You’ll find your rhythm,” she assured me, her hand resting briefly on my shoulder in a gesture that grounded me more than I expected.
“Thanks, Ellen,” I said, meeting her gaze with newfound resolve.
She smiled, stepping back into the main area of the clinic, her heels clicking on the floor like a metronome keeping time.
“Good luck, Hannah.” With one last appraising look, Ellen turned on her heel and left, her presence lingering in the clinic long after the door closed behind her.
I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the offer but determined to sail my own ship, even if the waters were uncharted.
seven
SAWYER
The sea breezeplayed tag with the loose strands of my hair as I strode across the lawn towards Hannah’s place. Bobby had been on my case for days, worried about the doc, making me promise to bring her over when she was feeling better. Old man Hennessy had his ways, and you didn’t argue with a man who’d braved the Atlantic longer than you’d been alive.
“Hey, Sawyer,” she greeted me, opening her door, a hint of surprise lifting those green eyes of hers. They were the color of sea glass, washed up on the shore after a storm, mysterious and bright.
“Bobby sent me to fetch you,” I said, leaning against her door frame, trying to appear nonchalant. “Wants to know you’re doing alright.”
She laughed, a nervous trill that told me she wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “Really? Well, I can’t say no to Mr. Hennessy, I guess.”
We walked side by side, the silence comfortable, stretching out like the horizon line. I was aware of every clumsy step she took, the way her hand brushed mine occasionally, sending jolts of electricity up my arm.
“Is it always this windy?” she asked, pushing her blonde hair out of her face as we got closer to the ocean and Bobby’s door at the front of the house.
“Only when it wants to mess with particularly pretty hair,” I shot back, winking at her. Damn, if she didn’t blush like the sunset dipping into the bay.
“Flirt,” she accused, but she was grinning, and it made something warm unfurl in my chest.
We approached Bobby’s porch, the old, weathered thing standing proud against the salt and time, much like the man himself. We found him sitting in a wicker rocker, a navy cable-knit sweater draped over his shoulders, looking out at the sea—as if he could still hear its call.
“Look what the tide brought in,” I said, gesturing to Hannah. Her cheeks were a bit flushed from the wind, or maybe from my teasing; but either way, it looked good on her.
“Ah, Hannah, my dear, come sit,” Bobby beckoned, patting the chair next to him.
The conversation flowed like wine—effortlessly, warmly intoxicating. Laughter bubbled up between us, natural and easy. With Bobby’s tales of the sea, Hannah’s awkward anecdotes about moving to our little town, and my own stories from behind the bar, we wove a tapestry of camaraderie that felt both new and ancient.
“Ever seen a storm brew out there on the water?” Bobby asked, pointing his gnarled finger towards the endless blue.
“Only from the shore,” Hannah replied, her gaze following his gesture.
“Feels like watching God paint with shades of gray and fury,” he said, the memories vivid across his face.
“Sounds terrifying,” she said, biting her lip.
“I don’t mean to scare ya, of course.” Bobby patted Hannah’s hand. “Truth is, was a time in my life I yearned for ‘em. The calm of the shore was too boring for my bones.”
“I relate to that,” I mused, my voice softer than I intended. “Storms make life interesting. You ride them out, find your way through, and your world is better for it.”
Hannah looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw the weight of her insecurities in those sea-glass eyes. But there was strength there too—the power of it almost knocking me back.
“That’s beautiful, Sawyer,” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was the kind of smile that promised hidden depths and secrets yet to be shared. I wanted to know them all.
I nodded, feeling the pull of something I couldn’t quite name but knew I wanted to explore.
* * *
