“He’s headed home. He won’t be bothering us again. Good thing he isn’t a travel journalist, or Puffin Island would be in for some seriously negative publicity about the state of our roads and the clueless nature of its inhabitants. He was persistent, I’ll give him that. He must have questioned every damn person on the island, even Hilda.”

“Hilda?” Emily put down the painting she’d been wrapping. “What did poor Hilda say?”

“She pretended to be deaf. She made him shout so loudly he had an audience stretching from the harbor to Puffin Point.”

Agnes laughed and walked to the door. “Talking of Lizzy, I’m going to see how she’s getting on with that doll’s house of Rachel’s.” She walked out of the room, leaving them alone, and Emily wondered how it was possible to feel self-conscious and awkward after everything they’d done together.

“I can’t believe everyone did that for Lizzy.”

“And you.” His voice softened. “They did it for you, too. It can take a long time for mainlanders to be accepted here, but you’ve thrown yourself into island life and you’ve been officially adopted.”

“Oh—” Her eyes filled, and she realized how ridiculous it was to feel like crying over something she should be celebrating.

And she knew her tears had nothing to do with her status as an islander, and everything to do with the way she felt about him.

In the past few weeks, she’d learned so many things and faced things she’d buried for most of her life. Now, instead of protecting herself from emotion, she was flooded by it.

She was starting to wonder if the dream of living here was really going to work.

Now she’d started feeling again, she didn’t want to stop. And she wasn’t sure she could hide it.

“Thank you. I don’t even want to think about how that might have turned out if you hadn’t done what you did. All of you. And please thank the group from the marine center.” She scrambled to her feet. “Lizzy and I will come back tomorrow and help Agnes finish up.”

“Why would you leave?”

“Because in a minute Lizzy will come downstairs and see you, and then she won’t want to let you go.” Avoiding his gaze, she stacked the last of the boxes by the door. “The ones with the black mark can be recycled. The red mark means they can go to the charity store. The green means Agnes is taking it when she moves.”

There was a tense silence.

“What if I don’t want to let her go? What if I don’t want to let you go?”

“I’m taking the box by the door over to Lisa because there are some toys that Summer and Harry might—” She broke off and stared at him. “What did you just say?”