“It took me half an hour to buy two items in the store because everyone was commiserating with me about Brittany leaving. I thought they’d probably got it wrong.” It disturbed him just how much he’d wanted them to be wrong. “Then I arrived home to find a casserole on my doorstep.”
“A casserole?” Emily pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, that’s so—Zach, that’s lovely.”
“What’s lovely about it?”
“It shows they care. That they’ve accepted you. I love this island and the people so much. They’re worried about you.” Her eyes misted and Zach looked at Ryan with a mixture of exasperation and bemusement.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”
“No. But if you want my advice, you should just eat the casserole. If it’s too much for one, bring it round here and we’ll help. Anything for a friend.”
“I’m not talking about the casserole. I’m talking about Brittany.” He jabbed his fingers into his hair, the tension an ache across his shoulders. He turned to Emily. “Are they right? Is she leaving? Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”
Her eyes shone. “Zach—”
“I’m putting you in an impossible position, aren’t I?” His throat felt raw. “It isn’t fair to involve you. She’s your friend.”
“You’re our friend, too,” Ryan said bluntly, “although I’m not planning on making you a casserole anytime soon.”
Emily stepped forward and put her hand on Zach’s arm. “Yes, she’s leaving.”
Zach drew in a breath. “Why? What happened? Was she offered a job?” He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t have told him that.
“I thought—she thought—” Emily opened her mouth, looked at Ryan and then shook her head. “You have to talk with her, Zach. You have to ask her about it yourself.”
“Go. Do it right now.” Ryan gave him a friendly shove. “Come back later and bring that casserole with you. I’ll provide the beer.”
BRITTANY PUSHED THE LAST of her things into the small suitcase and picked up her backpack.
She was used to traveling light, but somehow today everything felt heavy, as if it didn’t want to leave Shell Bay and the cottage.
Restless and sad, she walked into the kitchen.
Sun sprinkled light over the countertops and she waited to see an image of her grandmother, standing with her arms dusted in flour. Instead she saw Zach, his dark head bent towards hers as he kissed her.
Closing her eyes, she tried to wipe out the picture in her head.
How would she feel next time she came home?
Would this place always be associated with Zach?
The two things she loved most in the world, the man and the cottage, were inextricably linked.
But she knew it wasn’t the prospect of leaving the cottage that was making her sad, it was the prospect of leaving Zach.
Deeply absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t realize the man himself was standing there until she heard him say her name.
“Zach! You almost gave me a heart attack.” She dropped the backpack onto the floor. “Why didn’t you knock?”
“I did. You didn’t answer.”
“So you broke in.”
“No. Emily gave me her key.” He placed it carefully on the kitchen table. “Were you going to leave without telling me?”
“No, of course not! I was going to call you as soon as I finished a few jobs. I have to pack up Grams’s diaries. There’s a publisher in New York who might be interested, can you believe that?” She wiped her hands on her jeans. “How did you even know I was leaving? I only decided myself a few hours ago.”
“I heard it in Harbor Stores.”