"No, I'm fine. Better. It's broad daylight. There are people on the beach. He's got no reason to bother me anyway at this point."

"Keep the doors and windows locked anyway."

"I will."

She walked him out. Her across-the-street neighbor sent her a wave, then went back to digging in his front garden. A couple of boys raced by on bikes.

Too much activity, she a.s.sured herself, for anyone to try to get inside. And no reason now to do so.

She got a trash bag, went into the bedroom. Kneeling, she threw everything on the floor away, box and all. She couldn't know what he'd touched. If she could, she'd have thrown everything in the closet away.

Instead, she freshened up her makeup, packed a small bag, included the sketch. After she tidied up the kitchen, she retrieved the strawberry-rhubarb pies she'd made, boxed them up.

She carried them out to her car, went back for her bag, her purse. And when she locked her front door, her heart broke a little.

She loved her little cottage, and didn't know when she'd feel safe in it again.

CHAPTER Nineteen

PEOPLE, NOISE, MOVEMENT FILLED BLUFF HOUSE. ELI HAD forgotten what it was like to have so many voices speaking at once, so many activities rolling over each other, so many questions to answer.

After the initial jolt, he found himself enjoying the company and chaos. Hauling luggage upstairs or bags and platters into the kitchen, watching his niece toddle everywhere-and holding what seemed to be intense conversations with the dog-noting his mother's surprised approval when he pulled out a fancy tray of fruit and cheese to offer as a post-trip snack.

But his biggest pleasure came from seeing his grandmother stand on the terrace, the breeze fluttering her hair as she looked out to sea.

When he slipped out to join her, she leaned against him.

In her beam of sun, the old dog Sadie raised her head, gave a little wag, then went back to sleep.

"Sun warms old bones," Hester said. "Mine and Sadie's. I've missed this."

"I know." He draped an arm around her shoulders. "And I think this has missed you."

"I like to think so. You potted pansies."

"Abra did. I water them."

"Teamwork's a good thing. It's helped knowing you're here, Eli. Not just on the practical level of having someone in the house, but having you here. Because I think this has missed you, too."

The familiar vine of guilt and regret wound through him. "I'm sorry I stayed away so long. Sorrier I thought I had to."

"Did you know I hated to sail?"

Pure shock had him gaping down at her. "You? Hester First Mate Landon? I thought you loved it."

"Your grandfather loved it. I had to take a pill to keep my stomach steady. I love the sea, but better when I'm on land looking at it. We sailed together, Eli and I, and I don't regret a single pill, a single minute on the water with him. Marriage is a series of compromises, and at its best, the compromises create a life, a partnership. You compromised, Eli, and that's nothing to apologize for."

"I was going to take you out tomorrow."

She laughed, quick and delighted. "Let's not."

"Why do you keep the boat?"

When she simply looked at him, smiled at him, he understood. For love, he thought, and pressed his lips to her cheek.

She shifted to look him in the eye. "So, you have a dog."

"I guess I do. She needed a place. I can relate."

"A dog's a healthy step." She shifted again to study him more closely, and leaned on her cane. "You look better."

"I hope to h.e.l.l I do. You look better, Gran."

"I hope to h.e.l.l I do." She let out another laugh. "We were a couple of wounded warriors, weren't we, young Eli?"

"Healing up now, and coming on strong. Come home, Gran."

She sighed, gave his arm a squeeze before she walked with the aid of her cane to a chair to sit. "I've got more healing to do yet."

"You can heal here. I'll stay with you, as long as you need."

Something shimmered in her eyes. For a moment, he feared tears, but it was light. "Sit," she told him. "I fully intend to come back, but now's not the time. It would be both impractical and unwise to be here when I have all those d.a.m.n doctors and physical therapists in Boston."

"I can take you in for your appointments." He hadn't realized, not really, until he'd seen her standing on the terrace, her eyes on the sea, how much he wanted her back. "We can arrange for you to have your therapy here."

"G.o.d, how much your mind's like mine. I've considered exactly that almost from the moment I woke up in the hospital. Coming back's one of the main things that got me through. I come from tough stock, and marrying a Landon gave me more. I made those doctors eat crow when I recovered, when I got on my feet again."

"They didn't know Hester Landon."

"They know me now." She sat back. "But I've got a ways to go yet. I need your mother. Oh, I need your father, too. He's a good son, and always has been. But I need Lissa, bless her, for a while longer. I'm on my feet, but I can't stay there as much as I'd like, as much as I will. So I'll stay in Boston until I'm satisfied I'm steady again. And you'll stay here."

"As long as you want."

"Good, because this is exactly where I want you, and always have. I wondered if I'd be the last Landon in Bluff House. The last who'd live in Whiskey Beach. I've asked myself more than once if the reason I never warmed to Lindsay was because she'd keep you in Boston."

"Gran-"

"Well, however selfish and self-serving, it was part of the why. Not the whole, but part. I would have accepted that, or tried, if she'd made you happy-the way Tricia's family, and her work at Landon Whiskey, make her happy."

"She's a whiz at it, isn't she?"

"She takes after your grandfather, and your father. Born and bred for it. You're more like me. Oh, we can handle business when we have to, and we're not fools. But it's art that pulls us."