LITMIR.BIZ

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about him? He had a million questions, but he reined them in. What was the point in asking them? He didn’t need answers from Harriet. He needed them from Fliss. “And you? What are you doing here?” It was unsettling looking at her because she could so easily have been Fliss. Outwardly the twins were identical. Same blue eyes, same buttermilk-blond hair.

      Inwardly they were as different as the sun and the moon.

      “Grams fell. She’s in the hospital.”

      “I hadn’t heard.” And that surprised him because wherever he went on this patch of land someone, somewhere, was always keen to fill him in on local gossip. “How bad is it? When did it happen?”

      “A couple of days ago. I’m not sure how bad it is, but they won’t let her go home unless someone is there with her. She was knocked unconscious, I believe, and she says she’s a little bruised. I’m off to the hospital as soon as I’ve unpacked.”

      “Is there anything I can do?”

      “No, but thanks. I’ll be picking her up tomorrow.” She gestured vaguely to the car, a showy red convertible that gleamed in the sunshine.

      He glanced at it, thinking that it didn’t seem like something Harriet would drive. On the other hand it had been ten years and a lot changed in ten years, including the fact that she no longer seemed to be shy with him. There was no sign of the stammer that had plagued her teenage years. Fliss had confided in him how difficult it was for her sister, how the moment their father had started shouting, Harriet had been unable to push a single word out of her mouth.

      For her sake he was pleased that had changed.

      It was partly because he didn’t want to be the one to bring her stammer back that he didn’t question her about Fliss.

      “How did she fall?”

      “In the garden. It needs work.”

      “So you’re here to take care of her. That’s lucky for her. She doesn’t need to worry about being well fed.” He smiled at her. “I still remember those chocolate chip cookies you used to make. If you ever have any spare that need eating, I’m right next door.”

      “Cookies?” A look of alarm flickered across her face, and he wondered what he’d said to trigger that reaction.

      “You don’t cook anymore?”

      “I—yes, of course I cook. But proper food.” She stumbled. “Nutritious—er—things. Are your parents here this summer?”

      The question knocked him off balance.

      So she didn’t know.

      Sadness washed over him. It came and went like the tide over the sand.

      The years opened up like a gulf. So many changes. So many life events he and Fliss should have shared and weathered together. Instead they’d done it apart.

      “My father died. Ten months ago. Heart attack. No warning. It was very sudden.”

      “Oh, Seth—” Her reaction was as spontaneous as it was genuine. Her hand came out and she touched his arm for a few seconds before snatching it back. “I’m truly sorry.”

      “Yeah, it’s been tough. We’re selling Ocean View.” And he was still getting his head around that, trying to untangle his own wishes from those of his mother. Trying to work out what his father would have wanted him to do. And in a way that was easy. His father would have wanted him to do whatever made his mother happiest.

      Which meant he was selling the house.

      “That’s why you’re here? Because you need to sell the house?”

      “No. I’m here because this is my home.” So that was something else she didn’t know. “I live here.”

      “But you said—”

      “I bought a house close to Sag Harbor. It’s near the beach and the nature preserve. It needed some work, but it’s nearly finished.”

      “You’re saying you’re here permanently?”

      Was he imagining it or did he see panic? He had to be imagining it. “Yes. I run Coastal Vets, on the edge of town.”

      “Oh. Well, that’s great.” Her tone told him it was anything but great.

      He studied her face intently, searching for answers. “How are things with you, Harriet?”

      “Good! Fliss and I run a dog-walking business in Manhattan. The Bark Rangers. We’re doing well. A bit too well. Fliss wants to expand—you know what she’s like.”

      He didn’t know. Not anymore. But he wanted to. Had she changed? Was she still impulsive? Did she still kick her shoes off at every opportunity? Did she still hide her feelings?

      He had an urge to ask a million questions but held himself back.

      He was pleased, but not at all surprised, that Fliss had set up and was running a successful business.

      “So if your grandmother has fallen, you’re going to be here for a while. How will Fliss manage the business without you?”

      “We have an army of reliable dog walkers, and I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

      “So we’re going to be neighbors. I’d like to help in any way I can.”

      The look of panic was back. “That’s not necessary! I’m sure we’ll be fine, and I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

      “It’s no bother. Everyone in my family is fond of your grandmother, myself included. She brings Charlie to the clinic for checks, as do all her friends. And she has many. She’s been part of this community as long as any of us can remember. My mother would never forgive me if I didn’t help out.” He looked at her for a long moment and decided to test a theory. “How is Fliss?”

      “Fliss? She’s so happy. Doing really well. She’s built the business up from nothing, and now she’s so busy she barely has time to breathe. It’s an exciting time. All good.”

      It didn’t tell him anything he wanted to know, but that was because he hadn’t asked the right questions, of course. Is she seeing someone? Is she married? Why did she get as far as the door of the vet clinic and then turn around? Why is she avoiding me?

      Those were the questions he’d wanted to ask.

      But he’d got one thing cleared up.

      An important thing.

      “I’d better go. The clinic opens in an hour and there’s always a crowd at this time of year.” He whistled to Lulu. “We’ll be seeing you around, Harriet.”

      “Looking forward to it.” Her tone told him she wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

      He loaded the dog into his truck and drove back toward his house. It was within easy driving distance to the clinic, down a road that was little more than a rough track.

      He’d found the house two years before and fallen in love with the location. The property itself had been a little harder to love, and it had taken every day of those two years to transform it into the home he wanted.

      With the help of Chase, who had pulled together a team to help both with the design and the construction, he’d knocked down the single-story building and replaced it with a two-story structure with a double-height dining and living area and a wall of glass opening onto the pool.

      The house nestled behind dunes that were part of a bird sanctuary, and in the evenings during the renovation he’d often sat on the deck, nursing a beer, watching the gentle sway of the sea grass and listening to the plaintive call of the gulls.

      A short drive and he was on the edge of town, but here there was only the whisper of the wind and the rhythmic crash of the ocean. People had been listening to the same sound for centuries, and there was a simplicity to it, a soporific blend of nature

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