Immediately beneath them on the bridge Dora spotted another mother dolphin arcing in the water, and immediately after, her young calf. She clutched Devlin’s arm and in response, he slipped an arm around her waist.

Dora watched the smooth symmetry of mother and child skimming in tandem across the water. The young calf was riding safe and secure in its mother’s slipstream. Her thoughts naturally turned to her own child and she felt a sudden loneliness for him. He’d love to see this and she wished he were here with her. She wanted to share special moments of happiness with her son, like this, rather than always be the disciplinarian.

They stood side by side watching the dolphins, feeling the warmth of the sun on their backs until the dolphins swam off into the creek. She looked down to see his hand at her waist, then up to his face as he stared out at the water with an expression of a deep appreciation and even peace. She thought to herself, I like spending time with Devlin. He was easy to be with and deceptively intelligent. He played the role of a good ol’ boy, but he was very smart. Few people knew the lowcountry as intimately as he did. He loved the sea, the land, the culture, the history—all of it. These islands were his home. She found that very attractive.

Devlin turned his head and caught her looking at him. His eyes kindled. “Thought you’d like to see that.”

She was touched that he’d thought of what she’d like to see. Dora couldn’t remember Cal thinking of her in that way. She smiled and hoped it conveyed all she’d been feeling. “I surely did.”

“Best get you back. I’ve got to get to work sometime today.”

Dora reluctantly turned away from the view and followed Devlin back to the truck. “It’s been quite a morning,” she told him. “First turtles, now dolphins.”

“That’s just a normal morning in the lowcountry,” he said in a magnanimous tone as he opened her door. “You just have to get out and look.”

“You’re right,” she admitted. How many people were like her? she wondered. Living in this paradise and not exploring its wonders. She slid in the front seat and waited for him to hop in beside her. “I’ve stayed indoors for too long.”

Devlin put the key in the ignition, then paused to turn and face her. “Girl, you know what you need?”

Her lips twitched. “Nope.”

“I think you need someone to reintroduce you to your own backyard.”

She tilted her head, amused by his suggestion. “You think?”

“I do.” He fired the engine.

“You wouldn’t happen to have someone in mind for the job?”

He shifted into first, then cast her a sly grin that kicked her heart into gear.

“I just might.”

“Uh-huh,” she said in a teasing tone, then laughed as the truck pulled out of the parking space.

He drove a few blocks through the dappled shade of Middle Street. “How about I start by taking you boating?” he asked at length. “We used to love to cruise these waters, remember?”

Dora looked out the window and recalled countless summer days going out on Devlin’s boat when they were young, roaring up the creeks, putting down anchor near some hammock, making out while the boat rocked gently in the waves.

“Yes,” she replied dreamily. “I remember.”

The truck stopped at the sign. “We’ll do it again,” he said, swinging his head around. The sparkle in his blue eyes was contagious. “We’ll putter along the coastline, have a few drinks, then I’ll take you to dinner.”

Dora moved her sunglasses down her nose so she could look at him eye to eye. “That sounds rather like a date.”

“Well, I hope so!” he blurted. “It was meant to. Took me damn near three days to work up the nerve. So what’s your answer? Yea or nay?”

Dora slipped her sunglasses up her nose. “Yea.”

Chapter Eleven

Harper couldn’t wait to get back into the garden. She’d already ordered four books on the subject of gardening in the South, plants for hot-weather climates, and butterfly gardens. She and Dora had designed a modest garden plan, and Harper had ordered the plants. Dora was keeping firm control—approving or disapproving any of Harper’s suggestions. Her lack of trust chafed, especially in light of how Dora didn’t trust Harper to take her son to Florida. No matter what they did, or how hard she tried, Dora seemed to keep her at arm’s length.

Harper was deep into comparisons of varieties of lantana when the morning’s peace was rent by a squeal of delight, followed by the thundering of feet approaching. As she looked up from her computer, the porch door flung open and Dora rushed out, her face beaming with news.

“I lost ten pounds!” Dora exclaimed breathlessly. “Ten pounds!”

Harper turned in her chair, surprised to see Dora practically jumping up and down. “Hey, congrats! That’s a lot of weight. Since when?”

“Since the last time I weighed myself in the hospital.”

“I told you that you were slimming down.”

“You’ve always been trim and fit. You don’t understand how huge this is,” Dora said, her eyes still blazing with triumph. “I’ve been trying to lose ten pounds for ten years.”

Harper wondered why her being fit would render her any less excited for her sister. “It’s the exercise, more than any diet,” Harper said, trying to be supportive. She closed her laptop and rose to her feet. “We have to celebrate.”

“What’s the point? I can’t eat anything good.”

“Why do we have to eat at all? Let’s go shopping!”

Dora looked surprised at the suggestion, as though she’d never thought of having a celebration without food. “Well, I could use something pretty to wear on my dinner date with Devlin.”

“Something that shows off your figure.”

“Well, I’m hardly showing off,” Dora said, suddenly shy. “I have another ten to lose, at least.”

“Glass half empty,” Harper told her, wagging her finger. “You can buy another dress when you lose the next ten, too. Come on, sis, life’s too short not to celebrate each milestone.” Harper scooped up her laptop, water bottle, and pens and paper from the table. “Besides, we haven’t had a shopping trip yet. Or a mani-pedi. I seem to recall it was on our list of things to do this week. It’ll be fun. Just us sisters.”