Maggie had always been there, for Louisa especially, who had a tortured relationship with her own mother. Maggie was a Nantucket mainstay. She’d been born and raised on the island, and according to his parents (and Louisa’s), she used to “take in strays”—that’s what she called people who had no one else on the island. People like their parents when they were younger. People like Louisa now.

It was Daniel who’d first brought the old bird into their lives, and once she was there, she refused to walk out. She was intent on taking care of them, and in a way, they took care of her too. After all, Maggie never had kids of her own.

If what Louisa said was true, they were all about to suffer a great loss.

He let out a heavy sigh. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Look, whatever happened, it didn’t involve Maggie. She was important to all of us. She’s still important to me. And if there’s any way I can make this happen for her, I’m going to.”

“My mom’s finally in a good place, Lou.”

Her eyes shot to his at the sound of her nickname on his lips. Old habits.

“Maybe leave her out of this.”

She shifted. “Let’s talk about the fundraiser.”

He knew in that moment she wasn’t going to let it rest. Louisa Chambers didn’t let things rest. It was against her very nature to give in. She’d gotten an idea in her head, and there was no way to convince her it was a bad one.

“So the Inaugural Jackson Wirth Coast Guard Regatta,” she said.

“That title could use some work.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Be quiet. It’s a great idea. Your master chief even said so.”

“Good luck getting the rest of the guys on board.”

Her face fell. A chink in her confident armor, and he’d been the one to put it there. Nice.

“What is your business again, exactly?” He tried to keep his tone from sounding irritated.

Louisa snapped her jaw shut and looked at him. “The Good Life,” she said.

“But what do you do?”

“It’s a private concierge business.”

“Does that include planning fundraisers?”

“Not usually, no.”

He squared off with her. “Then why are you doing this?”

She tucked the paper with her typed-up notes about the fundraiser back inside the folder. “It’s a good job.”

“And what, you need the money?”

“Of course I do,” she said. “I just started my business a year ago.”

“But you had enough money to buy Seaside?”

She shifted. “My grandpa passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He left me some money.”