make sure they’re not serial killers or anything.” Willa glanced at her. “Right, Mama?”
“Willa,” Sean scolded softly. “You don’t have to tell everyone our secrets, do you?”
Willa squinted as she gave that some thought. “Nope. I guess not. Just Captain Nathan.”
Sean’s gaze darted toward Nathan, whose attention was fixed straight ahead on the road, but his lips twitched.
He might be amused by Willa, but her exuberance and openness presented a real issue for Sean. Her mind raced. No doubt Nathan’s family—Nathan himself, more than likely—would ask questions. She’d become quite good at firing off appropriate answers without looking like she was totally making them up. But the older Willa got, the harder it was to bat off personal questions. Her daughter had eyes like a hawk and a sharp mind that missed absolutely nothing. Just like she had with Nathan, Willa would call Sean out on anything she believed to be untrue. Despite Sean’s attempts at coaching and teaching, her daughter seemed to be without filter. One never knew what would emerge from the little girl’s too-mature-for-her-age mind and mouth.
Sean needed to be extra careful. Despite the challenge presented by Willa’s increasing awareness, Sean could not afford to relax her vigilance. Which brought her mind back to the question: Why on earth had she agreed to accompany Nathan to a strange place with strange people and a million innocent yet detrimental questions?
Sean glanced at Willa, who chattered about the fireflies that came out at night. Her daughter looked up suddenly, her blue eyes soft as she grinned. Sean smiled back.
That’s why. Her precious daughter. It was the one thing Sean had done right in her life. She wanted to somehow, someway keep a shred of balance alive in Willa. To allow her gracious memories of a magical childhood that she could look back on later in life, fond recollections that could bring a smile or make her heart feel glad. Things Sean could only imagine.
She prayed she could keep it up.
Nathan slowed the truck and turned into a long drive that led back to the river—much like at her and Willa’s place. It made sense, she thought, seeing how they were river neighbors. A large, stilted river house with a wide wraparound porch sat within an opening among the trees.
“Whoa,” Willa said in a low voice. “You live here?”
“Yep. Grew up here,” Nathan answered. “Come on,” he continued, and climbed out of the truck. “Let’s go meet everyone.”
“Come on, Mama!” Willa yelled, and followed Nathan out of his side of the truck.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Sean climbed out. Giant oaks laden with long Spanish moss formed a canopy over the house and yard. A large metal building stood off to one side farther back. And an arbor of some sorts sat to the left of the porch. Big blooms of hydrangea graced each side of the porch steps. On the porch an old man was sitting in a rocking chair, then stood slowly.
Like some Norman Rockwell picture.
Walking around the front of the truck, Sean joined Nathan and Willa. He watched her closely. Crickets and cicadas chirped, filling the air with bug-song. Somewhere close, the saw grass rustled as a breeze rushed through the salt marsh. In the distance, oyster shoals bubbled in the low-tide mud.
Noises that, only recently, had become familiar to her.
Oddly, Sean found she liked it.
“Will you all quit lingering around the yard and get over here?” the old man called. “I’m tired of waitin’.”
“Who is that?” Willa asked.
“That’s the king,” Nathan said with a grin. “He’s been dying to meet you both.”
With that, Nathan inclined his head to Sean, a motion to follow, and Willa bound ahead of them both, wings flapping, her skinny legs eating up the ground as she headed for the elderly stranger. This was a side of Willa that Sean admired and also feared: she didn’t meet a stranger. Ever.
Sean glanced at Nathan. “Sure hope your grandpa is up for Willa’s energy.”
Nathan grinned. “I have a feeling they’re going to get along pretty good.”
As they made their way to the porch, even though Nathan walked beside her, he definitely kept his distance. She had to admit that the rugged shrimp boat captain made her curious. While his looks appeared a bit rough—even his walk had a certain swagger to it—Sean felt there was something solid in Nathan. Safety, perhaps? No, not that. Maybe she simply recognized the same reserve she had. He’d been polite but never pushy. He seemed to respect her boundaries. Maybe his reserve was personally motivated. In a way, he seemed to want to keep distance between them, the very same as she did.
Nathan cleared his throat, and a sheepish grin stretched the scar in his lip. “I’m going to apologize right now for anything uncouth my grandfather says. He is sort of lacking a filter. There’s no stopping him, I’m afraid.”
A nervous laugh escaped Sean. Strangely enough, Nathan’s hesitancy put her at ease. Somewhat, anyway. “It’s okay. He may have met his match in my daughter. Also filterless.”
Nathan gave a soft laugh. “So I’ve noticed.”
By the time they reached the porch, Willa and the older man were already deep in conversation, which worried Sean. But as they joined them, their banter eased her mind.
“They aren’t real wings,” Willa said. “See? I put my arms through here.” She demonstrated the removal of her costume wings while the old man watched intently.
His bushy white eyebrows lifted, raising the bill of his USCG cap. “Huh.” Then he rose from his bent-at-the-waist stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t buyin’ it. Fairies are known to be pranksters. You might be pullin’ my leg right now.”
Willa’s brow scrunched up. “What’s a prankster, King Jep?”
“Well, you know, child,” Jep remarked, “a trickster. A mischief-maker. Someone who tries to play tricks on old folk.”
Willa’s already-wide eyes stretched even wider at the accusation. “I wouldn’t do that!”
A smile tipped Jep’s mouth. “Well, that’s good to know, Willa.” His glance moved to Sean, and his brow furrowed as he gave her a thorough and silent inspection.
“This is Sean Jacobs, Willa’s mom. This is, uh—” Nathan chuckled “—King Jep.”
“Yeah, Mama, he’s the King of Sea Diamonds, he told me so,” Willa added.
“Nice to meet you, darlin’,” King Jep said, offering his hand. Sean took it and he squeezed, not too hard but firm. She did the same. “Sean, eh? Good, stout Irish name.” He threw Sean a curious glance. “Usually reserved for the menfolk. No matter. Welcome to our home, darlin’.”
“Thank you for inviting us for dinner,” Sean said, trying not to sound nervous. “Sea diamonds?”
Jep dropped his hand. “Shrimp, darlin’. Shrimp! The most perfect creature God created, just ahead of the chicken.” His head cocked sideways as he considered her, giving her a head-to-toe glance. “You’re a skinny thing. You ain’t got worms, do you?” He winked. “I’ll put some meat on your bones.”
“Jeez, Jep,” Nathan chided, then shrugged and looked at Sean. “See? No filter. Sorry.”
“Hey, why do your blue pants go all the way up to your neck?” Willa asked Jep.
Nathan laughed, and Sean gave him and Jep a sheepish grin as she felt her cheeks turn red. “I’m kinda used to no filter, as you can see.”
“Filters are overrated anyway,” Jep stated bluntly, then looked at Willa. “Well, I imagine it’s because I don’t like wearin’ a belt, and these stay up.” He grasped one strap, showing it to Willa. “Overalls,