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  “You need to face your past, Finn.”

  I bristled. “What the hell for?”

  “It’s what adults do.”

  I stared at her. “Really? You’re going there?”

  “You can’t just blow it off. It’s your house now. Your farm. Your parents’ legacy to you.” She moved closer. “Your parents would want you to take it over, make it successful again. Bring back the blueberries. Get the business going.” She frowned. “If you don’t, it all will have been for nothing.”

  I chewed on my lip. Feelings of outrage bubbled inside me. How dare she tell me what to do? She had no idea… Well, maybe she did. She did lose her husband.

  “Well?”

  I shook my head. “No way. I’m not going back.”

  She snorted, surprising Dippy, who scuttled sideways even in the heat of the day. Re-gathering her reins, she practically spat the words at me. “You’re a coward. You were back then, and you are now. You hide out on our grounds, living a small life, not using your God-given talent.” Her face twisted for a moment with what seemed unusual sentiment. I wondered what was behind it.

  “What? You mean my art?”

  “Hell, yes.” She pulled her horse around and faced the house on the hill. “You have a chance to go for it now. You’d be wealthy. You could paint up there.” She pointed to the house. “You could follow your dreams.”

  I felt myself pull away. “How do you know about my dreams? And how dare you call me a coward?” I moved my horse closer to her. “You don’t know me.”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. “Yes I do,” she said. “You’re a moron.”

  With that, she urged her mare into a gallop and left me sitting on Popeye with a dropped jaw.

  A moron?

  I let out a long sigh and cantered after her.

  Crap, I thought. Maybe she was right.

  Chapter 12

  July 11, 1997

  6:55 P.M.

  Sassy didn’t make it for two nights in a row. I waited for an hour-and-a-half the first night, three hours the next. Each evening I sat on the jetty, fidgeting in the warm evening air, listening to the cries of the gulls. I’d imagined our kiss, that deep, sweet, tongue-flicking experience that had shot me to the moon and back.

  I’d never admit it to Jax, and I was barely able to admit it to myself. But it was my first real kiss, and I figured—or hoped—it was hers, too.

  Sure, there had been little pecks on the cheek or near the lips. My babysitter—who I had a monstrous crush on—would kiss me beside the mouth and I’d practically swoon whenever she did. That is, if boys can swoon. It sounds a little feeble, but I had such love for her when I was ten, I’d often suggest my parents have a “date” night so I could see her. I’d get all light-headed and act silly and wait on her hand and foot each time she came.

  The best times were when Jax wasn’t there, when he was old enough to spend a night at his friends and I had Serena all to myself.

  We’d play Scrabble or Monopoly for hours, with a big bowl of popcorn and pineapple juice mixed with seltzer, her favorite. Sometimes we’d watch movies—she liked the mushy ones best, and I tolerated them without a whimper of complaint.

  Serena was my first crush, and I’d never forget her.

  Tonight I decided to stay even longer for Sassy. What if she had to wait for her father and aunt to go to sleep first? What if they’d caught her coming in her window last time? Maybe she’d shown up here the last few nights, but found me gone by the time she arrived.

  I shuddered to think that. She’d think I didn’t care. And oh, how I cared!

  I settled down to wait. A parade of ducks waddled past me, mother in the front and father bringing up the rear. A turtle poked his head out at the bottom of the jetty and began the long journey across the beach.

  Sassy. Oh, Sassy. Please come to me.

  I remembered the soft touch of her hand on mine, the merriment in her eyes, her apparent shame regarding her identity. I wished she’d tell me who she was; where she lived. I didn’t care one bit if she was poor, or if she had a father who drank, or an aunt who smoked cigarettes. Nothing would matter to me except the next time I saw her, touched her, kissed her.

  With a start, I pulled myself out of my reverie. Someone had crept up behind me and put their hands over my eyes.

  Lord, please let it be Sassy.

  “Guess who?”

  She tried to make her voice deep, but I knew it was my girl from the first word slipping past her lips.

  “Jenna Sullivan?” I said, trying to sound excited.

  She smacked my back, almost knocking me off the jetty. “Jenna Sullivan? Can’t you think of a better girl than her to torture me with?”

  I turned and caught her in my arms, pulling her toward me. “I knew it was you, silly. Hey, where were you? I’ve been here every night.” I leaned forward and touched my forehead to hers.

  She turned her head aside and lowered her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Aunt Shirley went in the hospital, and we had to visit her every night after supper. By the time we got home, I figured you’d be gone.”

  “I waited every night for hours,” I said. “And if it happens again, I’ll wait ‘til midnight if you want. I missed you so much, Sassy.”

  “Me, too.” She snuggled against me. “It was her heart.”

  “Is she gonna be okay?”

  “We hope so. But it’s too soon to tell. They might have to operate.”

  “Whoa. I’m sorry. I know you two don’t get along, but this is serious.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She slid down to the beach, pulling me after her. “Let’s walk.”

  “Sure,” I said. I would have said okay to “let’s fly to the moon.” It didn’t matter what Sassy wanted, I’d do it.

  “Where’s your dad now?” I asked.

  “He went to the hospital. He let me stay home this time.”

  “When do you have to be back?”

  She glanced at her watch. “He’ll leave when visiting hours are over, around 8:30. So I have to be on my bike by then. It takes twelve minutes to drive home from the hospital, and I can beat him by five minutes if I time it just right.”

  So, I thought, she lives a seven-minute bike ride from here. Maybe I’d take a day to experiment, making seven-minute bike rides in all directions until I found her in her yard, or saw her father in the front window reading the paper.

  “I’ll make sure you aren’t late,” I said. “But it means we have to hurry if we’re going to plan out our lives.”

  “Huh?” She leaned down and splashed water at me. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  I caught her wrists and pulled her tight against me. “I’m talking about you, and me, forever. Together. You know, like in the movies.”

  “We’re already going steady, Finn.” She smiled in spite of her stern tone. “You can’t propose to a girl two days after she agrees to go out with you.”

  “Why not?” I slid my arm around her waist and drew her hips as close to mine as possible. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “I turned sixteen back in May. Same as you, right?”

  “Right, but I’ll be seventeen in November. Guess we’ll mostly be a year apart forever. But that’s cool.”

  She turned her eyes up to mine. “Forever’s a long time, Finn. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Sassy, honey,” I kissed her lightly. “I don’t give a damn about where you live or who your father is or whatever you’re trying to keep from me. Seriously.”

  “You’re so sweet,” she said. But she didn’t reveal any more. “Why don’t you kiss me properly now?”

  I didn’t need encouragement. I pressed my lips to hers, savoring the sweet saltiness of her taste. As we pressed closer together, kissing deeper and growing more heated, I pulled her away from the shore that surged and spread around our bare feet. “Come on.”

  We headed up the beach away from the high tide. The parking area at the top of the cliffs
was reportedly a great place for necking, but I’d heard Jax say he brought girls down below to the private coves hidden from either side of the beach.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, panting from running beside me.

  “Not far,” I said. “See that curvature over there? It’s a nice quiet spot.”

  She dug her heels into the sand and pouted. “Wait a minute. Do you bring all your girls here?”

  “All my girls?” I laughed. “Heck, no.” I pulled her to me. “You’re my first and only.” I wasn’t sure about telling her the truth about me, but it just spilled out.

  “Honest?” she asked, dancing beside me. “I’m your first?”

  “First kiss. First love. First everything.”

  She looked away. “Will you think less of me if you’re not my first?”

  “Of course not,” I fibbed, feeling a little jealous of whomever she’d known before me, quickly realizing I was being stupid. “You could have lied about it. I want us to be open and honest. Always.”

  “There was another guy…” She shook her head. “But I’d rather not talk about him. He’s a real jerk. And he dumped me last spring.”

  “Would I know him?” I asked. Jealousy crept up on me again. I didn’t want to act like an idiot, but burning curiosity hit me square in the chest. “Who was he?”

  “Just a guy from Yarmouth. You wouldn’t know him.”

  “How’d you meet him?”

  “Through my dad. His family came over to our place. We had a barbecue, sort of.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “Just a few months, Finn. It wasn’t serious.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “How far did you go with him?”

  I figured she’d hit me for that one, and she did, hard on the chest with both fists.

  “It’s none of your damned business, mister.”

  I stepped back. “Okay. It’s just…I don’t think I could stand it if another guy touched you in places like…in places I want to touch you. Just me. No one else.”

  A flush crept up her neck, and now she pulled me toward the cliffs. “Let’s talk about it,” she said. “But we’ve only got another hour.”

  I checked my watch. “I’m keeping track, don’t worry.”

  She shivered. “I’ll worry. I can’t help it. If Dad finds out, I’m toast. And you’re history. He’ll put a lock on my door and never let me out again.”

  I lifted her chin. “Then we’d better get you home on time.”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck and lifted her lips. “Okay.”

  “So kiss me already,” I said.

  And she did.

  Chapter 13

  July 14th, 2013

  10:00 A.M.

  Ed Sawyer sat back in his leather chair, chewing on the end of a pen. “I don’t think you’ll regret this, Finn.”

  I slumped on the chair—sullen and exhausted—having just listened to the list of my brother’s holdings, and all the legal rigmarole that went with the process of inheriting it.

  My fingers burned where I’d held the pen and signed the documents. I still didn’t feel right about it, and if Libby hadn’t pushed me, I wasn’t sure I would have accepted the whole parcel.

  But I did.

  I signed the papers. The farm was mine. The house was mine. And all the land—with bushes that were overgrown and probably didn’t produce berries any more—were mine.

  “So,” Sawyer said. “Here are the house and garage keys. Jax’s car keys. Your bank book. All the paperwork that goes with the offshore accounts.”

  I just stared at it.

  “I’ll email you everything later today, too. What’s your address?”

  I told him and he wrote it down.

  “You okay, Finn?” He frowned, spewing a chuckle. “I never met anyone so upset about inheriting a fortune.” He got up and walked around the desk, squeezing my shoulders as if we were good old buddies, which we weren’t. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  I nodded. “If you say so.”

  “When are you going to move up there? You’ll have to take over paying the bills. I did it for your brother, it was part of our arrangement, but there’s a new cycle coming due soon. Electric. Phone. The usual.”

  “What about the mortgage? How much is left on it?”

  He looked at me as if I hadn’t been listening to him spout facts all morning. “There’s no mortgage. I told you that. You own it outright.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t help but think of the bills my parents had paid monthly, and how difficult it had been for us to meet that dreaded mortgage every month.

  “Like I said, your brother was a genius at investing. When all of us were losing our stock value or at best staying even, he was cleaning up. He just had that kind of intuition.”

  “Something I never had,” I said, finally rising. “I’ve been broke since I left home.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Not any more, my boy. Not any more.”

  I pocketed the keys and picked up the thick folder, turning for the door. “Did you tell me what he did to the house? To repair it after the fire?”

  “No. But I thought you knew?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Okay. Well, it was the wing over the living room and kitchen that was destroyed. He had it completely torn down and rebuilt, an exact replica of the original. You’d never know there’d been a fire.”

  I grimaced. “Unless you’d been there,” I said bitterly.

  His color faded. “Oh. Right. I am sorry.”

  I collected myself. “No need,” I said. “You’re just doing your job, Sawyer.”

  His keen blue eyes caught mine. “That’s right, son. Now, you go do yours. Bring that property back to its glory. Your brother knew how to make money, but he didn’t care about the farm. The house is in pretty good shape; he took decent care of it. But the rest is all overgrown. Get up there and make your parents proud.”

  I sighed, fingered the keys in my pocket, and hefted the thick folder of documents at my side. “I’d best put these in a safe deposit box, right?”

  “We have one already. It’s across the street in your brother’s name, of course. But you now have full access. I’ll call ahead to remind them. It’ll be turned over to you officially when you sign the papers at the bank. You know, a new agreement, and all that.”

  Great. More signing. “Thanks,” I said, and walked into the brilliant Cape Cod heat.

  Chapter 14

  July 14, 1997

  11:00 P.M.

  I’d fallen asleep against the base of the Jetty, my head nestled against the soft bunched up blanket I brought with me. Sassy didn’t show up at seven o’clock, nor eight. I waited until ten, but since I had to haul my butt out of bed every morning at six, I was dead tired and had drifted off to sleep.

  I woke to a soft kiss on my lips, fingers running through my shaggy hair.

  I didn’t open my eyes. “I hope that’s you, Sierra McCoun.”

  Sassy slapped my arm and squealed. “Oh, you are such a tease! Sierra’s a horrible bitch.”

  I slowly opened my eyes and smiled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

  She bounced to her feet and pulled me up after her. “Oh, good. A blanket. I’m kind of cold.”

  I checked the time. “Whoa. It’s past eleven.”

  “I know. I had to wait ‘til I heard Aunt Shirley snoring. She’s home again, but her room is next door to mine. Dad fell asleep around nine-thirty. But taking care of my aunt is tiring us both out. We’re thinking of hiring a nurse.”

  “Really?” I was surprised her family could afford such a thing. “That’d be great.”

  She hugged close to me and we pulled the blanket over us. “I’m so glad you waited for me, Finn. Let’s go to the cove.”

  My heartbeat quickened. The cove. With Sassy. “Okay.” No argument there.

  We hurried to the shelter of the cliffs, seeking protection from the wind
that pelted sand against our bare legs and roared along the ocean. We both wore shorts and it was a relief when we rounded the bend and plopped onto the blanket on the sand.

  “Are you still cold?” I said.

  She nodded, shivering a little. “I was going to bring a sweatshirt, but it seemed too nice out. It’s colder here on the shore.”

  “I know. Me, too.” I settled beside her and opened my arms.

  She scurried into them, laying her head against my chest. “You’re warm.”

  “Ninety-eight point six,” I said.

  She laughed, and I felt her chest gently move against mine. Her long dark hair spilled in silky waves over her shoulders and onto my chest. I ran my hands through it, savoring the luxurious feel of it.

  “Sassy?” I said.

  She scooted up on me until our faces were an inch apart. “Yes?”

  “I’m nuts about you. You know that.”

  She smiled. “I know. You’ve only told me about a thousand times.”

  “Do you love me?” I asked.

  She pouted. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “I’m serious. Really. Sometimes I think you don’t love me as much as I love you. You know everything about me. Everything. I know practically nothing about you. I want to know more.”

  She sat up and let her hair play across my face, then unbuttoned my shirt and ran her hands along my chest. “I do believe the feeling’s mutual,” she said. Then, with a grin, she added, “that means I love you, too.”

  I huffed. “I know what mutual feelings are, what do you think I am, a moron?”

  She leaned down and kissed me. “Sometimes. Like now. When we’re here, alone. And you’re talking.”

  I realized she was right. I was acting like a fool, talking about who loved whom more. I have a live, gorgeous, affectionate girl in my arms and I’m obsessing over where she lives and what her family name is. I’m such a dunce.

  She kissed me again, deeper now, and she moved astride me. “But that’s what I love about you, Finn. You’re a romantic. It’s not all about you getting in my pants.”

  “Don’t think the idea hasn’t crossed my mind,” I muttered against her neck.