He looked at her for a moment. “I guess so.”

“And I told him if he finishes, he gets cherry cobbler after dinner,” Lucy said, breezing into the dining room with a bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a pitcher of gravy in the other. If there was one thing Lucy could make well, it was her homemade gravy. Dawson had loved it for years, and he’d asked her for the recipe many times. She always said that it was her job security and she’d only leave to him in her will.

“Yum… cherry cobbler….” Dylan said, rubbing his stomach. Dawson often looked at his energetic son and wondered what his life had really been like before they adopted him. What had he seen? What had he experienced? He couldn’t think about it for long without his blood pressure rising and his eyes filling with tears.

Lucy brought the rest of the food to the table as everyone got settled into their chairs. This was Dawson’s favorite time of day, when his family was all there together.

“So, how was the bookstore today?” Dawson asked.

“It was busy. Dixie was very excited about this author’s books and set up a big display. Almost takes up the whole front entrance,” Julie said with a laugh.

“Which author?” Lucy asked as she placed a cloth napkin in her lap.

“Charlotte McLemore.”

Lucy smiled and clapped her hands. “Oh, she’s my favorite! Her books have so much emotion that you end up staying awake all night to read them!”

“That’s what I hear.”

“So, what else?”

“Mom came to the store today,” Julie said as she took a sip of her tea.

“Uh oh. What’s my mother-in-law up to now?” Dawson asked, smiling. SuAnn was a loose cannon, for sure. Sometimes she was as sweet as sugar, but she could cut you really quickly with her words and actions. He found it was best to stay in her good graces and keep himself out of the line of fire if he could. So far, that had worked well.

“She needed to tell us the latest gossip that we have a new resident in town who will be running the lighthouse now that renovations are complete. There will be tours and everything.”

Dawson had been in the lighthouse many times having grown up on the island. It sat at the tip of the island and had long since been out of commission, but seeing it repaired and working again was a good thing in his mind. Still, any time someone new moved to their little paradise, everyone worried. Would the person be a problem? Would they get along with everyone? Would they be a contributing member of the community or take away from the culture there?

“Do we know who it is?”

“Nope. My detective of a mother had shockingly little information. I’m sure she’ll dig something up soon like the bloodhound that she is,” Julie said, laughing as she scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes.