Note to Readers
“WELL, PHOEBE?” HUNTER MACBRIDE stopped his decade-old motor home at the turnoff for the Liberty Lighthouse. “What do you think?”
Hunter’s seven-year-old niece turned her doll-wide gaze out the bug-and grime-encrusted windshield to get her first glimpse of Butterfly Harbor and California’s historic lighthouse. He powered down the windows and let the roar of the ocean welcome them. The faint sound of rattling pebbles cascading beside the lapping waves and late-winter wind reminded him of the carefree summers he’d spent at his grandparents’ beach house growing up. For the first time in a long time, Hunter felt as if he could breathe.
The coast had always brought him a sense of peace. In his experience, there wasn’t a problem that couldn’t be solved by the roar of the water and the sheer power of Mother Nature crashing against the rocks. He could only hope this place would do the same for Phoebe. It had to. He’d bet everything—including his career—on it.
“I’ve always loved lighthouses,” Hunter said. “Used to explore them whenever I could.” He cast an eye on Phoebe. “Nothing better than climbing to the top, around and around that spiral staircase—”
Phoebe looked at him and frowned, her brows knitting into a perfect V over her little nose.
“That’s right, a spiral staircase.” He wound his finger in a circle and drew it up. “Your mom and I used to have races to see who’d make it to the top first. One time I went so fast I threw up on her.”
Phoebe’s skeptical stare went blank at the mention of Juliana. It had been six months since her parents—Hunter’s sister and brother-in-law—had been killed in a car accident. Six months since he’d become sole guardian to his niece.
Six months since Phoebe had changed from a rambunctious, energetic chatterbox to a child of few words.
Hunter’s heart constricted as he rubbed the back of Phoebe’s hand. Thick dark curls framed her face and tumbled around her shoulders. There were times he swore he was looking into Juliana’s face, but with far wiser and more guarded eyes. What he wouldn’t give to take away the trauma and pain his niece had been through. What he wouldn’t give to have his sister back.
“You want to know a secret?” He leaned close and whispered, “I haven’t eaten a corn dog since.”
Phoebe’s lips twitched.
Hunter’s spirits soared. Earning a smile from Phoebe was tantamount to scaling Mount Everest. She was so guarded now. So controlled. It was all he could do not to jump out of the motor home and do a little dance of joy. Instead he gave her the warmest smile he could and continued his observations.
“I used to call lighthouses soldiers on the hill.” Hunter pointed at the tower stretching toward the sky. “They always look like they’re standing guard. Which they are, in a way. There’s a light up there, in the lantern room just inside the catwalk. It would glow and shine its light into the ocean and guide ships safely to the shore.”
Phoebe pointed to one of the smaller buildings surrounding the lighthouse. From a distance he could see the keeper’s cottage attached to the base with a roof in dire need of repair. Across the way, closer to the cliff line on its own rocky little hill, sat the carriage house that would serve as their home while Hunter researched and wrote the book—literally—on the Butterfly Harbor lighthouse and its restoration efforts to be used for publicity purposes.
He kept a slow pace as he maneuvered his oversize motorized baby down the dirt road. His smile widened as the white cottage with empty, weathered window boxes came into sight. “Yup. That’s our house.”
A quick glance at Phoebe, and he saw her mouth form a perfect O before she bit her lip and sat back in her seat.
“We’re going to have to set up some ground rules, kiddo.”
Phoebe sighed.
“Until I get the lay of this place and figure out where everything is, I don’t want you wandering around on your own. You stick by my side or by the house, okay? Phoebe?” He gave her a look that told her he expected an actual answer. “Either by the house or here in the motor home.”
“Okay.”
“It’s going to take a few days to get used to everything. It’s okay to be scared of new places, Phoebs. But I won’t let anything happen to you. This is our big adventure, right?”
Did she have to look at him as if he was losing his marbles?
“Right. Maybe it’s just my big adventure. Let’s check this place out and find the keeper.” He shoved open his door and dropped to the ground. He grimaced as he realized thirty-two wasn’t nearly as young as it had felt a few weeks ago. Hunter pressed his hands into the base of his spine and