“In that case, I can guarantee she’s not going to show. She left early this morning to fly down to Florida. Her mom had a health emergency.”
Ben’s pulse picked up. “What kind of emergency?”
“Sounded like it could be a stroke.”
Ben bit back the word that sprang to his lips.
After everything that had happened to her in the past—and all she had going on in Hope Harbor right now—a family medical crisis was the last thing she needed.
“How did you find out about this?”
“After the lighthouse meeting at Grace Christian last night, I took a walk on the beach, then sat here on the wharf for a while. The light was on at the Herald, so I assumed Marci had come back to put in another hour or two.”
“That sounds like her.”
“I agree. Anyway, she dashed out the door, and I went over to see if everything was okay. She’d just gotten the call from her dad and was running home to pack a bag and catch a red-eye out of Portland. I’m surprised she didn’t call or text you to cancel your lunch.”
“I’m sure she was distracted.” But truth be told, he was surprised too—and disappointed. Friends shared that kind of important news with each other. And he’d have been happy to take her to the airport. It was a long, dark drive north late at night.
“You certain she didn’t try to get in touch?” Charley brushed a few crumbs off the pristine serving counter.
“I always have my phone with me, and I check messages regularly.”
Or he used to—until the low-key Hope Harbor vibe seeped into his soul and he’d fallen out of the habit.
Maybe she had left a message.
He pulled out his cell and pressed the power button.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
“You think the battery might be dead?” Charley leaned across the counter and perused the blank screen.
Ben closed his eyes and exhaled.
Yeah, it was dead, all right.
And no wonder. He hadn’t recharged his cell in a few days. Why bother, as little as he used it?
“I need to go home and plug this in.”
“Let me get you an order of tacos to take with you.”
“I don’t want to wait for . . .”
Charley reached off to the side, pulled out a brown bag, and set it on the counter. “A pre-order. But I have time to put together another one before my customer gets here.”
As the savory aroma wafted toward him, Ben hesitated. He was hungry—and it was slim pickings at the house.
“Are you certain?” Even as he asked, he was digging out his wallet.
“Yep.” Charley opened the cooler, retrieved some more fish, and set the fillets on the grill. “Tacos don’t take long to make. I’ll have another order ready pronto.”
Ben counted out the bills and handed them over. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure. I know you won’t enjoy them as much as if you were sharing them with Marci over there”—he gestured toward a bench beside a planter overflowing with flowers—“but you can always reschedule after she gets back.”
“I intend to.” He picked up the bag.
“Glad to hear it.” His expression didn’t change, but the sudden intensity in his dark brown irises was out of sync with his smile. “Sometimes we can let the curves life throws us mess with our internal guidance system. As your grandfather used to say, if you keep your eye on the horizon and focus on your destination, no storm can push you too far off course.”
It almost sounded like Charley was issuing a . . . warning?
Then again, the resident sage was known for his enigmatic comments. No reason to read too much into it.
“That sounds like Skip.” He lifted the bag of tacos. “Thanks again.”
“Not a problem.”
Lunch in hand, Ben strode back toward his car. He needed to charge up his phone ASAP. Because unless he’d misjudged Marci—and her feelings for him—he’d find a message or two from her waiting for him.
And while he couldn’t offer much more than moral support from thousands of miles away, that might be enough to let her know he was beginning to seriously think they were destined to be more than friends.
What on earth was vibrating against her ear?
Pulling herself back from the oblivion of deep sleep, Marci shifted and . . .
Ouch!
Why did her neck hurt?
Squinting against a beam of light lasering through a gap in the blinds on the window, she gingerly rotated her head.
The vibration continued.
Ah.
It was her phone.
Somehow, while she’d slept, she’d slipped sideways in the utilitarian recliner beside her mother’s bed, and her ear had landed on top of her purse.
Shoving her hair out of her face, she straightened up, groped for the cell, and surveyed her mom.
“I’m wide awake, dear. Don’t worry about disturbing me if you need to take a call. You should have gone to the house hours ago and gotten some decent sleep.”
Other than a few fine lines of strain at the corners of her eyes, her mom looked like her usual self.
Thank you, God!
“I wanted to stay here. And I’m fine.” Her fingers closed over the phone, and she pulled it out.
Ben.
Finally.
While she hadn’t expected him to check his messages late last night, the silence from his end this morning had been disconcerting. If the situation were reversed, she’d have been on the phone the instant she got the first message.
Her cell buzzed again.
One more ring and it was going to roll to voicemail.
“I’ll take this out in the hall, Mom.” She pressed the talk button and scrambled to her feet.
“You can chat in here if you like. You won’t disturb me.”
“Hi.” She kept walking as she spoke into the phone. “Can you hold a second?”
“Sure. Take your time.”
Just hearing Ben’s warm, caring voice chased away some of the doubts that had begun to creep into her mind.
Putting the phone on mute, she turned to her mom. “I want to visit the ladies’ room anyway. Where’s Dad?”
“He went to get us some real coffee.”
“Will you
