The Forgiveness of Love: Hope & Hearts from Swan Harbor, #9

By Sophie Bartow

Swan Harbor keeps secrets – until she doesn't. When she reveals what The Mountain View Lodge has been hiding, repercussions reverberate throughout the town.

 

The Mountain View Lodge - Book Three

 

                                                                                A tangled web.

                                                                              A shattered heart.

                                                                               A healing touch.

 

Eden Fowler learns news that shatters her heart into a million pieces. Hounded by the press and surrounded by secrets, she must find answers and heal. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, Quinn steps into her life.

 

Quinn Jones traveled the globe investigating and writing stories that captured his fancy. At his brother's engagement party, Eden, and the mystery around her, catch his attention. Suddenly, the idea of roots, and what a home is, takes on a new meaning.

 

When decades-old secrets are uncovered, someone will do anything to keep them hidden. With danger closing in, can Quinn find the answers and persuade Eden to leap? Or will her heart be forever broken when the truth is finally revealed?

 

When your heart speaks … it's a race to be the last one standing.

 

The Forgiveness of Love is Book 9 of the Contemporary Romantic Suspense from Swan Harbor series, as well as Book 3 in the Mountain View Lodge Trilogy. It is a second chance, forced together mystery romance with a guaranteed happy ending. If you enjoy steamy, small -town characters with a rich sense of family and friends, then you'll love Sophie Bartow's intriguing new series.

 

Download a copy of The Forgiveness of Love and join Eden and Quinn on their journey.

 

 

Read the other books in The Mountain Lodge Trilogy

The Memory of Love – Book One

The Innocence of Love – Book Two

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sophie Bartow
• Release date: Feb 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215852484

Book preview

one

QUICK NOTE: If you enjoy The Forgiveness of Love, be sure to check out my offer for more at the end.

With that, enjoy!

Swan Harbor Pier

April 19

1:00 p.m.

He’s a murderer!

Eden Fowler dropped onto a bench, pulled her knees up to her chest, and rested her head on them. It had been twenty-four hours since her life had been turned upside down.

He killed her!

The words rolled around inside, sending a chill up her spine. How had she been so blind? Were there clues she’d missed?

Did you know?

Her stomach churned, but that was to be expected. Since hearing the news the thought of food, made her gag. She’d spent the night in Portland, hoping to gain some perspective. Except, it hadn’t helped. Nor did it stop the phone calls. Especially the ones from her best friends, Rachel and Harper, or from them.

He poisoned her.

Eden pressed her hands against her forehead and wished she could turn back time. She wanted to be at the elementary school teaching her second-grade students. But how could she face them? How could she face her peers? How could they not blame her?

Were there signs?

Was it her fault? Was she somehow responsible? Could she have prevented it … any of it?

Are you sure you didn’t notice anything?

Had she suspected something was off? Suspected something was different? She refused to believe that. At one time she’d been self-centered, only focused on her own feelings. She’d changed, though. Or at least she’d thought so. Had she been wrong about that, as well?

When was the last time you spoke to him?

Their last conversation had been innocuous. At least she’d thought so at the time. However, looking back, he’d shown interest in her friends. Something he’d rarely done before. Then, the next day, everything had fallen apart. She wasn’t sure what to believe or who to trust. Nor did she know what was true and what wasn’t.

You’re under arrest.

She’d been caught in the middle and somehow knew there was more going on. How she’d known that was unclear. For some reason though, that thought sent a rush of fear zipping through her.

A familiar noise alerted her; she wouldn’t be alone much longer. The sound grew louder, reminding her of thunder. She lifted her head and looked around wildly. They were gathered in a pack on the far end of the pier. But why were they after her? Did they think she knew more?

Eden jumped up and with no particular destination in mind, took off. Her only thought was to stay a step ahead of them; for the time being, anyway.

Why?

Everything had happened so quickly. An arrest, and then another. She’d barely had time to organize her thoughts before the calls had started. How had they gotten her number?

He’s evil. You know that, right?

She darted into the nearest store and took up a position by the window. Once they were past, she’d run the other way.

It was several minutes of standing and seeing no one, before her heart rate began to slow. Then again, a noise alerted her she wasn’t alone.

Eden ducked farther behind the rack she was hiding behind. And not for the first time, wished she was invisible.

She didn’t want to be seen. Didn’t want to be recognized. Didn’t want people to see her. Because if they did, she knew what they’d think. It was the same thing she’d been thinking for twenty-four hours. And why she wasn’t at work.

Do you need some help? a salesclerk asked, catching her off guard.

Eden glanced around, searching for a plausible excuse. The rack she was hiding behind turned out to be perfect.

Nuh-No thank you, she stuttered, gently touching one of the baby rattles on the display. I’m just looking.

Well, alright, the woman replied hesitantly. But if you need anything—

I will, Eden cut her off.

The woman didn’t immediately turn to leave, but acted as if there was more, she wanted to say. Eden’s heart beat faster, and her blood rushed through her veins. So quickly, that at one point she had to grab the shelf to remain upright.

Are you okay? the woman asked.

I’m just a little dizzy, Eden admitted.

Would you—?

That’s not necessary, Eden assured her. As soon as I’m done, I plan to eat.

Well, okay, the woman murmured, and finally left her alone.

Eden stepped closer to the window and looked out, searching for her shadows. The group was larger and led by a dark-headed woman who didn’t like the word no. For some reason, that one made her nervous.

We just have a few questions.

Except what they wanted to know was too personal - too invasive. Until finally, she’d decided it didn’t matter what she said. They would always want to know more. Whatever she gave them - even if she gave them all she had - it would never be enough.

Impulsively, Eden reached for a blue rattle embossed with the letter G, and decided she had to buy it. She shoved several others aside before finding one with an L.

They would be her gift to Geoffrey and Luke, the newest members of the Prince family. Her way of saying she was sorry that he had almost ruined everything.

The question was, would she be able to deliver them personally?

A secret that had been buried for many years had recently been shared: the discovery of three sets of remains. And with everything that had gone down the week before, Eden’s life had become firmly twisted around the story. Except, what should she do? Or better yet, what could she do?

She took the rattles and, on her way to check out grabbed a floppy hat, and a gray sweater several sizes too large. Her shadows were still out there - waiting. Since she couldn’t actually disappear, then perhaps she could hide in plain sight.

Eden held her breath while the clerk rang up the sweater. She feared the inevitable questions. Ones she couldn’t run from.

Will there be anything else? the clerk asked, allowing her to relax … at least a little.

No, thank you.

Do you need a gift box?

A gift box? Eden repeated.

For the sweater, the clerk asked. This seems awfully big.

Oh, no, Eden jumped in. It was a little cool while I was sitting on the pier earlier.

It’s the wind, the clerk replied. It can be chilly when it whips off the water. Would you like me to cut off the tags?

That would be nice. Thank you.

What she hadn’t anticipated were the nerves as she waited for her purchases. They had her rocking from one foot to the other impatiently. She’d been in one place too long and needed to leave.

Here you are.

Her hands weren’t quite steady, as she slipped the sweater on over her light coat. It felt like she was readying for battle and donning her armor.

Where had that thought come from, though? Was whatever awaited her really a war? If that were the case, who was she fighting? Was it them? Was it him? Or was there more yet to be revealed?

That’s $69.72, the clerk murmured.

She started to hand over her credit card, but at the last-minute paid cash. The thought of having her name out there more than it already was made her stomach clench.

Have a good day, the clerk chirped.

Eden grabbed her package and with the words Go! Go! on replay in her head, rushed to the door. She covered her hair with the hat and pushed away from the safety of the store.

There was more traffic than earlier but not enough for her to get lost in. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as she made her way up the pier.

The feeling persisted, growing larger, threatening to wash over her, the farther she walked. And then, she heard it again. First the buzz as one shouted, then another rang out. Until, as a pack, they headed her direction, and the buzz became a rumble.

She back pedaled quickly. There had to be a way out. Her thoughts raced, hoping - searching her memories for a layout of the pier. Was there an escape route she hadn’t considered?

The possibility of getting caught terrified her. She needed answers - and she needed them now.

But what were her options? What did she have to take into battle? A shield, a sword … a Knight? One that would lift his weapon and fight alongside her?

Or was she asking too much? Was this a battle she was meant to fight alone? Was that her destiny?

Two Scoops Ice Cream Shop

April 19

1:45 p.m.

Quinn Jones licked the spoon, letting the sample of Moose Tracks ice cream slowly melt in his mouth.

It’s good, he told the young woman behind the counter.

But not quite the flavor you’re looking for? she guessed.

How did you know?

It’s the same thing you said after the last flavor. She looked pointedly at the line of sample size spoons in front of him. What would you like to try this time?

Sorry, Quinn apologized, continuing his search for just the right one, There are just so many that look good.

Can you tell me what you’re looking for?

If I knew that, he quipped. I wouldn’t have to sample them, now, would I?

She was quiet for several seconds before she disappeared into the freezer, then handed him another sample. Try this.

What is it?

Chocolate Fudge.

And it’s good?

It’s delicious, she giggled. Taste it.

Quinn closed his lips around the spoon. His taste buds stood up and gloried in the way the dark chocolate and fudge coated his tongue.

It’s brilliant, he murmured.

I knew you would like it, she dimpled. Will it be a cone or cup today?

I’ll have …

The door to the ice cream shop opened, and the expression on the young girl’s face had him turning to see who’d entered.

"Eden?" she whispered.

Quinn knew that name. He’d met her once at his brother’s engagement party. She was best friends with Harper, Aiden’s fiancée.

Eden? the young girl repeated.

Eden lifted her head, and their eyes met. He recognized that look. It was the same one he’d seen in someone else’s eyes. But that had been another time and another place.

Eden? he asked, wondering if she would remember him.

Her name rolled off his tongue feeling equal parts familiar but unfamiliar. Quinn tilted his head to study her and took a step in her direction, intending to ask if she needed help. Before he could say anything, the blood leeched from her face, and she sagged to the floor.

Bloody hell.

His eyes drifted over the smooth curve of her cheek to the small beauty mark just below her bottom lip. Quinn knelt next to her and gently brushed aside the oversized hat, knowing it hid a glorious mane of golden hair.

Are you okay? the young girl asked as soon as Eden’s eyes fluttered open.

Help me, Eden pleaded. They’re coming.

They’re coming? Quinn frowned. Who’s coming?

Except the females ignored him and before he could gather more information, Eden was gone. She’d disappeared through the back, and the girl was once again waiting for his order.

There was a small part of him that thought he should follow. It’s what his brother would want him to do. Except the decision was taken from him, when the door opened once again.

Quinn shot a look in the direction of his ice cream friend, thinking to warn her. But there was no time.

He recognized the group of people who’d entered the shop. Not for who they were, but for what they were - journalists, just like him.

Where is she? a woman with black hair asked, pushing her way to the front.

Where is who? Quinn responded.

Eden Fowler, the woman replied. We saw her come in here.

Are you sure? Quinn exchanged looks with the girl behind the counter. Did you see someone come in here?

No, the girl squeaked, and Quinn worried she’d break. No one.

But we saw her, the reporter repeated. Her eyes darted to the back of the store, then somewhere over his shoulder.

The restroom? Another reporter muttered, pushing past him to go look.

Corblimey, Quinn snapped. I told …

But did you tell us the truth? The first reporter took a step closer. Her dark eyes flashed, and a come-hither look crossed her face. The look said she was used to getting what she wanted.

It reminded him of another set of dark eyes. Ones he preferred to leave in the past.

If you would excuse me, Quinn shouldered her aside. I was just getting ready to order a double dip Chocolate Fudge ice cream cone. You should try one.

Did Eden go out the back? The reporter asked, this time directing her question behind the counter.

What? his ice cream friend tossed back. Her eyes met his and for a split-second he was reminded of his kid sister. And the need to protect pulled at him.

Look, Quinn redirected their attention. Leave her alone.

But she could be hiding Eden, the reporter pointed out.

She’s not hiding anyone, Quinn replied, working to keep his voice neutral.

The reporter studied him, he assumed trying to read his expression, Are you sure about that?

Why would I lie to you? Quinn asked. I came in to get ice cream. I don’t even know why you’re after, what was her name? He pretended not to remember, Eden?

Eden Fowler! the dark-eyed reporter snarled. We have some questions for her.

He searched his memory for what was going on. And while it took several seconds, finally the last name clicked. According to his cousin, who was an investigator for the Sheriff’s Department, someone named Fowler had been arrested for murder.

Why?

You can’t tell me you really don’t know? the reporter snapped.

I can tell you I’m not from around here, Quinn tossed back nonchalantly. I came to town for my brother’s engagement party. Now, I’m just trying to decide where to go next.

The reporter’s dark eyes flashed again. And once more, he was reminded of another pair, and how they’d hardened when chasing a story.

Grab a copy of the Morning Sentinel, the reporter replied. It’s all spelled out. Eden Fowler’s father is a murderer.

A memory of what had happened to another who’d shared Eden’s look had him offering, Maybe so. But leave Eden alone. She’s innocent.

Are you sure about that?

Corblimey, he thought. He wasn’t sure about much these days. Which was why he was still in the sleepy town of Swan Harbor, Maine.

Except … there seemed to be more going on than he’d assumed.

I’m sure the person you want to speak to isn’t in this building. Now, I’d appreciate it if you would kindly leave. I’d like to order my ice cream.

The reporter’s eyes locked with his for another few seconds. He couldn’t tell what was going through her head, but the look on her face when she turned away, made him think she rarely backed down.

Minutes later, she huddled with her colleagues for a hushed discussion. Then, finally, the group left the ice cream shop. Quinn followed them to the door and watched as they scattered, before once again giving his attention to his young friend.

You were amazing, she exclaimed. Just amazing.

The starstruck look on her face surprised Quinn for a second. But then it dawned on him - she had been flirting earlier. When had he stopped noticing … or caring … about that?

How do you know Eden? he asked, moving the conversation in a more comfortable direction.

Oh, that’s easy, she smiled. Eden’s best friends with my cousin. My Aunt owns Two Scoops.

You’re one of the many Pattersons, Quinn murmured. But shouldn’t you be in class, he hesitated and glanced at her name tag, Leah?

Leah’s smile disappeared, and she tipped her chin slightly, sending her nose in the air. Once again he was reminded of his sister.

I’m a freshman at Swan Harbor University, Leah intoned. My classes don’t meet on Friday.

I see. Quinn nodded toward the back room, Did Eden leave or is she hiding?

She left, Leah murmured. But she wouldn’t tell me where she was going.

And the group that was after her wouldn’t stop. Fair? Probably not. But that’s how it was sometimes.

Do you really want a double scoop of Chocolate Fudge ice cream on a cone? Leah asked, reminding him of what he’d told the reporter he was ordering.

His mouth watered at the mention of the ice cream, making his decision an easy one. Of course.

Shortly afterward, Quinn left Two Scoops with his cone, and more on his mind than when he’d arrived.

He settled on a bench close to the water and tried to clear his thoughts. But the memory of the look in Eden’s sky-blue eyes had him scrolling through his phone to read about the elder Fowler.

From the little knowledge he gained from his readings, she was definitely caught in the middle. While the reporter in him wanted more information, there was something keeping him from diving into the search.

Swan Harbor wasn’t his home. Therefore, the problems surrounding her residents weren’t his to solve. Those belonged to others, such as his cousin … and his brother. Which reminded him to pull out his phone to send Aiden a text.

Quinn: Saw Eden at Two Scoops. The press is after her. She went out the back door.

Aiden: How did she look? Harper is worried about her.

Quinn: Scared. Tired.

Aiden: Did you talk to her?

What should he say to that? Should he admit she’d swooned at his feet, catching him off guard? Or should he admit he’d played a part in keeping the press away from her? In the end, he decided to keep it simple.

Quinn: Not really. She ran through the store pretty fast.

Aiden: Thanks. I’ll let Harper know.

Quinn pocketed his phone and once again tried to get lost in the scenery around him. Except his thoughts refused to cooperate, and turned back to Eden.

He couldn’t wrap his head around how different she’d looked today versus the first time they’d met. The night of the engagement party, she’d reminded him of a Sprite. There had been something magical and bright about her, as she’d flitted from person to person.

Except the woman he’d just seen was missing her light. And a part of him itched to fix it. After all, he’d fought battles before, and understood the healing power of finding answers.

But was this his battle to fight? Was it his responsibility to solve the mystery and return the Sprite’s brightness? Could his tarnished armor survive another fight?

Especially if it ended like the last time he’d tried to rescue a damsel.

For years, he’d relied on his instincts to guide his life and decisions. The professional side of him was clamoring to jump in with both feet. His hesitation came from his personal side. It was telling him to wait and watch. That he wasn’t ready to put everything on the line. But could he listen? Could he let someone else take on the fight?

two

Sheriff’s Department

April 19

2:30 p.m.

Investigator Rusty Langley strolled into his office to find his partner leaning back in his chair, feet on his desk, eyes closed.

Wake up, Wanker! He dropped the folder he’d just been handed on Killian’s desk.

Bugger that, Rusty! Killian grumbled. What’s that?

See for yourself, Rusty nodded toward the folder.

Killian shot him a disgruntled look but dropped his feet on the floor and did as was suggested. It gave Rusty time to pull out the pecan pie donut he’d picked up at Paula’s Pastries. He’d just taken a bite when Killian sent him an expectant look.

It’s right here, Rusty handed over a second bag, complete with your extra frosting.

Thanks, Mate.

Next time’s on you, Rusty muttered around the bite he’d just taken.

While Killian glanced through the folder, it gave Rusty a few minutes to reflect on the past two months. There had been an explosion at the old Mountain View Lodge in February. It had killed one man, injured another and the town had revealed a secret that had been long buried.

There were tunnels that crisscrossed Swan Harbor. They’d been there since before prohibition times and were used to transport alcohol throughout the town. In one of those tunnels, three skeletons had been discovered: one male and two females.

Recently, the identity of one set of remains had been discovered. They belonged to Sharon Michaels Gold, who was believed to have died in July 2009. Her killer had just been arrested. But not before he’d claimed another, the woman’s daughter, Catherine.

That the killer had turned out to be Swan Harbor’s Chief of Police was still a bit of a shock. While Rusty could look back and wonder if there were signs they’d all missed, his years in law enforcement said better to look forward. Aaron Fowler was a man who loved the flash and pitting his smarts against others. He’d played a part, allowing people to see only what he’d wanted them to see.

What they still needed to discover was the ‘why’ behind everything, as well as the identity of the two remaining sets of bones.

We’re sharing the administrative, Killian shoved the folder aside, am I right?

Unless you want it all? Rusty asked hopefully.

Bloody hell, no!

I didn’t think so, Rusty sighed.

You spoke to Dylan?

The Sheriff, Dylan Prince, was taking a month off to spend time with his wife, Molly and their newborns, twins, Geoffrey and Luke.

I did, Rusty confirmed. The boys and Molly are doing well.

Dylan’s still in the euphoric stage?

Seems so, Rusty laughed. But Dylan said he’s taking your advice and gathering babysitting names.

It was brilliant advice, Killian quipped. You’ll have to remember that.

Rusty side-eyed his partner and ignored the comment. It wasn’t something he was ready to dive into quite yet.

Dylan wanted to know if we’d contacted Eden Fowler.

Why?

He wants us to be gentle with her.

Aren’t we always?

It seems Molly is worried about her, Rusty went on. "She feels that because Eden was there for her when Fowler’s goons showed up, she needs to reciprocate if possible.

Wankers, Killian muttered. I hear Captain Taylor is still looking for one of them.

One of them?

Aye. Woods turned himself in, but Trevil has disappeared.

Poor Greg, Rusty grunted. He’s having to clean up the old Chief’s mess.

I don’t envy him.

Rusty agreed. But there’s no one else Rene would consider for the Chief of Police job.

Is that one of the perks to being married to the Mayor, Killian asked. You’re in the know early.

Ha ha. Rusty turned the talk back to Eden. You know Eden Fowler is Roland’s teacher, right?

His son was seven and in the second grade at Swan Harbor Elementary. Roland had started the school year only caring about being in class with Ethan, his best friend. But as time went on, there had been more than one excited comment about his teacher.

What do you think of her?

Rusty popped the last of his donut into his mouth and took a sip of coffee before answering. She’s young, maybe twenty-five. And there’s something fragile about her.

Fragile? Really?

Maybe fragile isn’t the right word. Rusty searched for a better label, finally coming up with, Delicate.

Delicate? Killian hummed. Like a Porcelain doll?

No, Rusty murmured. She’s not that tall … blonde … blue eyes, and very soft-spoken.

But she’s a second-grade teacher, Killian pointed out. Eden Fowler can’t be too ‘delicate.’

So perhaps delicate isn’t right either. But you know how Aaron has always liked the flash and attention?

Aye.

One of Eden’s brother’s died years ago, and the second was fired from his job for being overzealous with his computer instructions.

That’s right, Killian replied. He was the one who taught the bloody students how to hack into the school computers.

Rusty nodded. I guess I thought Eden would be jaded, but I don’t see it. She appears to enjoy teaching. All the boys are half in love with her, and the girls look up to her.

So, you don’t think she has any information that might give us insight into her father’s activities? Or help us identify the other two sets of bones?

I can’t give you an answer, Rusty murmured. But regarding the first, Molly is afraid Eden will have questions. Ones we can’t answer yet.

Is she going to need a keeper? Killian asked. Do you think she’s the kind of person to go off on her own?

I don’t know, Rusty sighed. But the press has already arrived in town.

The press? Killian repeated. Are they here covering the skeleton story or the arrest of one of our own?

Possibly both, Rusty suggested. Especially since they’re connected. And through no fault of Eden’s, they’re wrapped around my son’s teacher.

Is that going to be a problem?

For me? Rusty shook his head, No. But for some of the other parents, possibly.

Are you worried about Ro?

Worried about him? No. But I am trying to decide what, if anything, to say to him.

You don’t think he’ll hear something from a classmate?

Maybe, Rusty muttered. Except I can’t imagine I’m not the only parent worried about what - if anything - to say.

Killian whistled. Glad I’m not in your shoes.

Gee, thanks.

My pleasure, Killian replied with a cheeky grin.

Rusty let go of what was on the tip of his tongue and with a shake of his head turned to the next item on his list.

Someone from the Agency will be here on April 30th to pick up Murphy’s things, he shared, referring to the man who’d been killed in the Lodge explosion.

That’s weeks away. We’ll deal with it as it gets closer.

I should add it to the calendar. Rusty glanced at the one that hung on the wall next to his desk.

Why? Killian replied. We’d just forget to look at it.

Since it was April and the calendar hadn’t been updated in months, Rusty had to agree. But for appearances sake, he ripped off the February and March pages and stuck the sticky note in the appropriate place. At least he’d made an effort.

Have you had a go at Fowler today? he asked, continuing to move down the list.

Same as last night, Killian grunted. Fowler’s willing to talk about Catherine and Sharon. However, any time the other two skeletons are mentioned, he clams up.

He’s protecting someone, Rusty murmured. But who?

And why? Do you want to take a turn?

Did he? Did he really think he could get more from Fowler that Dylan or Killian hadn’t gotten?

Not today, Rusty decided. Let’s see how he enjoys being ignored over the weekend.

You know the answer as well as I do.

He won’t, Rusty agreed.

No, he won’t. But … Killian turned several pages in his notebook, I asked Fowler about the Lodge fire.

Did he admit to setting it?

Well, Killian frowned. That’s where things got interesting.

How so?

Fowler admitted to setting the fire.

But?

He swears he has no idea where the computer came from.

Really? Rusty hummed. Do you believe him?

I’m not sure, Killian admitted. Why would he admit to setting the fire but not taking the computer? What would be in it for him?

Rusty let the question roll around in his head and had to admit, he had to agree.

If Fowler didn’t take the computer, though, who did and why?

And how and when did it end up at Fowler’s home? Killian added.

Why is it every time we get answers to a question or two, a dozen more show up?

It’s Swan Harbor, Killian laughed. She’s your typical fickle female.

Don’t let my wife hear you say that.

Nor mine, Killian agreed. Which brings me back to Eden. Have you heard from her?

No, Rusty admitted. I left a message for her, but it’s only been a few hours.

He jotted a note to follow up with Eden on Monday and jumped into the last thing he’d been handed.

I don’t like the look on your face, Killian muttered before anything could be said.

Rusty reached for the file with Dylan’s tasks.

There are a couple of things that need to be done today. Do you want to finish the schedule, or meet with the citizens patrol?

Do you even need to ask?

Tosser, Rusty grumbled, as Killian practically ran from their office. "Next time I won’t ask."

Swan Harbor Docks

April 19

3:00 p.m.

It took Quinn longer than he cared to admit for him to completely put the encounter with Eden out of his mind. She was a puzzle that begged to be solved. But the problem wasn’t his. No matter how much he longed for her to have her Spritely magic back.

Instead, he turned his focus to watching Jack. The older man was standing on the bridge of his ship, staring out to sea. What … or who was the Captain waiting for?

He’d just tossed his napkin into the garbage can, when his phone buzzed.

This had better be good, Quinn answered.

What was it today? Captain Jack asked conversationally. Moose Tracks or Fudge Brownie?

Chocolate Fudge, Quinn replied, still savoring the flavor. Why?

No reason, Jack murmured.

Except there was a tone in the older man’s voice that said he was calling for a reason.

What do you need, Jack?

Why do you ask? Jack tossed back. I can’t call just to make conversation?

Quinn winced at his rudeness. He could plainly hear his mum scolding him. What happened to your manners, Son?

I’m sorry, Jack, he capitulated. Is there something I can do for you?

I need your help, Jack replied. You know where I am. Then the line went dead.

Quinn crammed the phone back into his pocket and watched Jack a few more minutes. When the older man turned and moved to the other side of the bridge, he started toward the ship.

Jack’s restaurant, Captain Jack’s Fine Dining, was built inside a seventeenth century Spanish galleon. The ship was anchored at one end of Swan Harbor’s dock, and its history had recently been uncovered. Its connection to the Jones’ family had brought Quinn and his brother, Aiden, to town the previous fall. While the story was a bit difficult to wrap his head around, it seemed hope had been saved.

As soon as he entered the restaurant, Quinn bypassed the dining area and wound his way to the bridge. When he reached his destination, Jack spared him a brief glance, then returned his attention to the sea.

What are you waiting on, Jack?

Their arrival, Jack replied cryptically.

Quinn’s brows shot up at the older man’s comment. Alright, I’ll bite. Who’s arriving?

Jack grinned. Why, the swans, of course.

The swans? Quinn looked around the harbor. While there were numerous birds, he was pretty sure none of them were swans.

Yes, the swans, Jack repeated.

Quinn’s thoughts bounced around to what he knew, which he freely admitted wasn’t much. He’d not read the book or the journals that harkened back to Swan Harbor’s origins. His knowledge was second hand - from both his professor brother and his history buff sister. Except, he was pretty sure there had only been one swan seen in the harbor recently. And that one had died in February.

What am I missing, Jack? Quinn impatiently shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "And how can I help you with your swan watching?"

Jack sent him a disgruntled look. No, I’m not senile.

Hey,