And stop giving in to any ridiculous notions that things could be more than what they were with Wes. Once the renovations were done, she’d be putting the B&B on the market and she’d be leaving. Their relationship would go back to consisting of her stalking his rare Facebook posts.

That was good. Out of sight, out of mind.

Though that hadn’t been the case before.

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us,” he said, opening the back door of his truck for Marissa. He climbed into the driver seat, and his gaze met hers through the windshield, but she couldn’t read the expression behind those ocean-blue eyes, so she waved as they drove off, knowing she wouldn’t be going out that night.

If Marissa’s gentle coaxing that the two of them spend time together wasn’t enough of a red flag, her own desire to take him up on the invite certainly was. She couldn’t start a relationship with him when she wasn’t planning on staying. It wouldn’t be fair to any of them.

And when had Wes Sharrun ever given her a second look? Obviously any affection he felt for her was wrapped up in her giving Marissa an alternative to camp.

She headed back inside and into the den for her laptop. Noticing her grandmother’s journal still in the open desk drawer, she picked it up and carried it to her room. She’d forgotten all about it. But now, as she changed into painting clothes, her gaze continued to wander to it.

So odd that the journal had been sitting on the bookshelf. Wasn’t her grandmother worried that a guest might find it and read it? Or had she left it there precisely for that reason?

Sarah went to her dresser and, taking a bobby pin, she picked up the journal and wiggled the pin into the lock hole, moving it around until she heard a click.

That was easy.

Opening the cover, Sarah removed several old and yellowed newspaper clippings, then carefully scanned the headlines.

U.S.A officially enters the Second World War after attack on Pearl Harbor.