Page 8 of The Marine's Homecoming

"Ms. Hannah Brooks," she announces, turning to thrust her hand at Mr. Whitaker. She has her own inspector too—with a bright orange vest and a hard plastic hat on her head. "This is Mrs. Pauline Reyes, our city’s safety inspector." Hannah's smile is bright but not warm. She's either tense because of me or she's nervous. Maybe a bit of both. Anything that affects this marina will affect her business. She's right to be nervous if she’s dragging city inspectors down here.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, not so casually. I heard about her little stunt at town hall and how the big, fancy investor came to her rescue. Hattie is as much a gossip hound as she is a friend.Hannah went behind my back to try to force her festival through the town council, but what she doesn't realize is my answer will be no, no matter what.

She flicks a glance at me and clears her throat. "Mr. Maddox," she says calmly, "we're here to do a few checks on the property for city safety reasons."

As she turns to gesture toward where the pier pylons are sinking, I notice her name tag with the wordsCity Council Memberemblazoned on it. So she's here in her official capacity and she probably thinks she can bully me into doing what she wants. Well, she's wrong.

"There were some reports of unsafe conditions. We're just here to check on it." She turns to Mrs. Reyes and smiles. "Would you like to take Mr. …?"

"Tom Whitaker, thank you," Tom says, extending his hand to Mrs. Reyes.

"Mr. Whitaker down there to do some inspections? I can speak with Mr. Maddox for a moment." Hannah oozes charm and cordiality, but I can see the emotion bubbling under her professional surface. This is just a manipulation tactic. She really thinks she's going to win this.

"Of course. Mr. Whitaker, show me what we're looking at." The two of them walk off under the pier and Hannah waits until they're out of earshot before she turns back to me, but I must look like I have steam coming from my ears. I'm livid. I can take care of my own issues. I don't need the city looking into things. Tom's presence here clearly indicates that I’m already doing my job.

"Look, Luke, take a deep breath." Hannah holds her hands up trying to calm me, but I'm too upset.

"What are you doing!" I hiss, careful not to be too loud. "I don't want city inspectors down here. I have my own guy and he's doing a fine job by himself." I don't even need this hat to keep me warm. I am steaming mad without it.

"Okay, I know, but I didn't do this… Alright? The mayor approved the festival and insisted we make sure things are safe and?—"

"A festival I said no to already," I say, cutting her off. "You went behind my back after I already told you no."

She presses her fingertips to her temple and for a brief second I see remorse cross her face. Nick would hate that I'm talking to her like this. He was always so protective over her. I just can't let her bullrush over my father's land. He didn't approve of this to my knowledge, and it doesn't matter how charismatic or driven she is—or how gorgeous—she has to do this the right way.

"I wasn't trying to upset you, Luke. I really did talk to Frank and?—"

"Hannah!" Mrs. Reyes calls, and it jerks Hannah's attention away from me. The glint of fear in her eyes is enough to convince me she realizes how bad this could be for both of us. If the marina gets shut down, she's out of a job until I fix this.

Of course, I will fix this. But I won't be taking any of the money her pretty boy rich benefactor offers. This land stays mine, no one else's.

"One second!" Hannah calls, turning back to me. "Luke, please, just consider it. I know you hate the idea, but Nick would want you to help out."

She looks like she wants to reach for my hand and touch it, but she turns and walks away. I have no choice but to limp off after her, stiff from not stretching and in enough pain already this morning that I could take some painkillers.

I'm not doing that festival at all, but I am starting to understand her drive. Everything she's doing is because of Nick somehow, and she's carrying a burden I put on her shoulders. It makes guilt roil around in my belly until I feel angry at myself instead of her.

One of these days, I'll move on, but for now I just have to take one step at a time and pray I make the right choices. For me, for Nick, for my father, and for this property.

6

HANNAH

The weather is warm for a late January afternoon, some strange pattern off the coast from the south that has carried sub-tropical winds, and I don't mind. The boat rocks gently in its mooring as I flit around, trying to get everything perfect. With two party consults this afternoon, I want everything looking perfect. I have to prepare for the chance that Mrs. Reyes comes back to shut us down.

As it stands, her assessment three days ago left me in limbo. She needs to take soil samples and bedrock measurements, which means another inspection at least, if not two. But if she comes back saying pier two is down for the count, I know pier one is at jeopardy too. And Luke doesn’t seem in any rush to fix it. He may be able to lose the revenue and keep going, but Brooks Party Boats and Rentals won't.

My back is to the door as I fluff a few pillows on the couch that wraps along the inner wall of the salon. I'd show them the sky lounge but the weather is so unpredictable in February that if they wanted an outdoor party it would have to be a last-minute decision. It's best to steer clients toward indoors until the harshest moments of southern Oregon's winter have passed.

"Excuse me?" I hear, and I whip around, startled, half expecting to see Luke standing on my boat. But it's not Luke at all. It's that charming Mr. Dorsey who so willingly offered up his funds to support my cause. It brings a smile to my lips as he steps into the salon and straightens his tie.

"Mr. Dorsey, it's so good to see you." I glance at my watch. I still have a few minutes before the Rayburns get here to have a tour. I can indulge whatever reason he's here to speak to me.

"Ms. Brooks, your boat captain said I could find you in here," he says, walking toward me. He smells like expensive cologne, and I can see he's had his hair recently cut. He's handsome, but not in that rugged way that makes my pulse zing. And he's older, so not entirely my type. But I take his tanned hand and shake it.

"What can I do for you? I assumed you'd be hunting me down at some point." I gesture at the sofa and he nods, following me where we sit down.

"Well, I came to see how progress was going. At the town hall I hoped to catch you, but you slipped out afterward so quickly." He unbuttons his suit coat and crosses one leg over the other, making himself comfortable.