Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (39 page)

“I know.” The counselor sent her an understanding smile and led her to the sofa as Taylor and Riley went to play with the other kids.

Throughout the next hour, Annie spoke with several of the parents. Two of the mothers who she’d been friends with before promised to make the trip to Heron Island as soon as the weather got warmer. By the time Taylor and Riley came back over, it was almost time to head to the airport.

Will had arrived back in San Diego a few days ago from his last overseas mission. He’d been gone for six weeks and Annie had been a nervous wreck the entire time, but he’d found out the day before that he’d gotten the position on the base in Virginia Beach. He’d be re-stationed in January.

Somehow, on top of everything, he’d managed to finagle a few days off for Christmas.

His plane would land at BWI in less than an hour.

Annie picked a piece of glitter out of Taylor’s hair. “Are you ready to go?”

“Almost,” Taylor said softly, her fingers curling around the handle of her broom. With Riley beside her, she turned and walked to the closet—the one where she’d hid from the shooter three months before.

Annie pushed slowly to her feet. Surely, this wasn’t necessary. They had done what they came here to do. They didn’t need to face down every demon on the first visit. “Taylor…”

The counselor stood, putting her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Taylor reached for the door. Silver Christmas bells hung from the knob, and they jingled as she opened it. She paused, for only a moment, before placing the broom inside and closing the door.

She turned and sent Annie a small smile. “I’m ready to go now.”

On Christmas Eve,
two days later, Annie and Taylor pulled up at the inn. Will had been strangely mysterious about his plans for the evening, but he’d told them to head down to the dock as soon as they arrived. The sun had set over an hour ago and it was a cold, clear night. A full moon cast a soft glow over the lawn as they stepped out of the car.

The inn was one of the only homes on the island that wasn’t lit up with twinkle lights and draped in pine-scented garlands, but it brought Annie comfort to know that this was the last Christmas it would sit empty. This time next year, the rooms would be filled with veterans and their families.

Colin had already acquired a handful of investors, and Will had hired Jimmy Faulkner and his crew to start working on the renovations in a couple of weeks. Annie was looking forward to making sure Jimmy stayed on task and off his favorite barstool at Rusty’s.

A faint buzzing from inside her jacket pocket had her fishing out her cell phone.

“Who is it?” Taylor asked.

Annie smiled, handing the phone to her daughter. “It’s your grandmother.”

Taylor answered the phone and Annie bent down, adjusting the red velvet bow on Riley’s collar. Maria Hadley called every day now at five o’clock to talk to them. A few weeks ago, in a last ditch effort to save himself, Blake had told his parents about their grandchild, fabricating a story about how Annie had tricked him all those years ago to keep Taylor from him.

His announcement hadn’t been received quite the way he’d expected.

Maria and Lance Hadley had flown up to the island the following day. They had introduced themselves to Annie and asked her to please tell them the truth, which she did. When they’d found out what Blake had done, Lance had apologized over a dozen times on behalf of his son and Maria had cried.

Lance and Maria Hadley were nothing like the snobs Blake had made them out to be. They were kind and compassionate and generous, and it hadn’t taken long for Annie to agree to let them meet Taylor. They’d stayed on the island for three days to get to know their granddaughter, and before they’d left, they’d already made plans to come back a few days after Christmas to visit again.

The last any of them had heard about Blake, he was floating around some tourist town in Mexico—jobless, friendless, and still in debt.

He wouldn’t bother Annie or Taylor ever again.

Taylor finished the call and handed the phone back to Annie. “She said, Merry Christmas.”

Annie smiled, slipping the phone back in her pocket. She had no doubt they would both talk to Maria again tomorrow, at five o’clock, on the dot. “Come on,” she said, taking Taylor’s hand and leading her around the side of the house. “We better hurry. Della will never let us hear the end of it if we’re late for dinner.”

Ducking under the knobby branches of the hackberry tree, they both stopped short when they saw the dock.

“Mom,” Taylor whispered. “Look.”

Annie gazed at the lights wrapped around the pilings and strung along the edges of the pier. Will’s grandfather’s sailboat twinkled from the highest point of the mast to the tip of the bow. Strings of white lights gleamed like sparkly ropes along the sides of the hull to the stern, and a huge Christmas tree blazed at the end of the dock.

Taylor let go of her hand, running across the lawn with Riley on her heels. Annie followed, making her way slowly down to the water as moonlight streamed through the bare branches of the tulip poplars. Will met them at the edge of the dock, helping them into the boat.

He smiled as Riley curled up beside Taylor, sniffing at the two presents on the seat. “Go ahead.” He nodded for Taylor to open the present with her name on it. “You first.”

Taylor tore into the paper, her eyes lighting up when she saw the purple fishing rod. “You remembered!”

“Of course, I remembered,” Will said. “I told you I’d get you your own rod the night we went out on Ryan’s boat. As soon as the weather warms up, we can start catching perch off the dock.”

Taylor held the rod up. “I’m going to catch the biggest fish at next years’ Rockfish Tournament.”

Will laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

Taylor looked back at the other present. “Who’s that one for?”

Will sat back, wrapping his arms around Annie. “It’s for your mother.”

Taylor handed Annie the present.

Annie took it, feeling suddenly nervous. Her fingers fumbled with the tape as she unwrapped it, lifting the lid of the small velvet box.

Inside was a gold ring, with three diamonds sparkling on an antique band.

“It was my grandmother’s,” Will said softly.

Annie looked up at him, her heart in her throat, as he took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger.

“She would have wanted you to have it,” he said.

Annie looked down at the ring, then back up at him.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Annie.” He held out his hand for Taylor. “With both of you.”

Riley barked, wagging her tail.

Will smiled. “And Riley.”

Taylor climbed onto the seat beside them, tugging on Annie’s sleeve. “Say yes, mom.”

“Yes,” Annie whispered.

Will’s lips found hers and she closed her eyes. A cool breeze blew in from the Bay, and the soft tinkling of copper chimes drifted into the air. It was the same sound she’d heard over a dozen times since the first night she’d met Will.

She opened her eyes and spotted the tiny wind chime looped around a ring on the mast. The strings were twisted and tangled, the flattened pennies clinking together as the boat rocked back and forth.

She sat up slowly, reaching for it.

There was no way she could have heard this chime from the café. Will’s property was at least a mile outside of town. But this was definitely the one she’d been hearing.

Untangling the strings until each gleaming red-orange piece dangled on its own, she looked back at Will. “Where did this come from?”

“I’m not sure,” Will said. “I think it was one of the first ones my sister made. It’s been there forever.”

Forever, Annie thought, letting her hand fall away from the chime. Maybe Will’s sister had been trying to tell them something. Threading their fingers together, she laid her head on his shoulder and smiled up at Taylor.

She could handle forever.

The End