Last night, after giving his parents an update on Aunt Birdie’s progress, he might have stayed up until well past midnight watching an action movie, but it wasn’t like he had any place to be until later in the day. His aunt had therapy in the mornings, so he tried to be at the physical rehab facility at lunchtime.

Though the last time he was there, she had insisted he not make the lengthy journey from Bluestar Island to Boston each day to visit her. She was making friends at the center and promised she’d be fine. She said it was more important that he spend time with Peaches. That was his aunt, always thinking of others before herself.

A whiff of dog breath preceded a swipe of a wet tongue over his cheek. Yep, it was time to get up. Ethan ran the back of his hand over his face. And yet the rest of him didn’t move. It was just too much effort.

“Just a little longer,” Ethan pleaded with the dog. With his eyes still closed, he reached out and ran his hand over Peaches’s furry back.

Arf. Arf.

With a groan, he got up. After letting Peaches out in the small fenced-in yard, Ethan grabbed a quick shower, hoping the pulsating hot water would ease his stiff muscles. It didn’t. At least not much.

Once Peaches ate, they headed out for their morning walk to Beachcomber Drive and a stroll to the far end of the park. Peaches wagged her tail and greeted a few familiar faces. At that hour, most people were working or getting on with their day.

Ethan loved listening to the roar of the surf as the salty sea breeze rushed past him. It was as though it swept away all of his troubles—at least temporarily.

He paused at the intersection, checking for traffic before crossing. It took him a moment to remember there wouldn’t be any cars or trucks zipping up the street. With this being a small island, vehicles were prohibited unless issued a special day permit. He’d left his truck at one of the many parking lots on the mainland and taken the ferry to the island. Once on Bluestar, people got around via golf carts, bikes, or walking. It had always been that way. And he supposed it would remain that way. Bluestar was steeped in traditions that went back generations—

A scream pierced the peaceful morning air.

Peaches ears immediately perked up.

“Come on, girl.”

His feet pounded the sidewalk. Peaches kept pace with him. The firefighter part of him instantly took over. Adrenaline flooded his system. He listened for another scream to make sure he was headed in the right direction, but it was quiet now.

He slowed down and glanced between each building. And then he spotted a young woman with auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had a hand pressed to her mouth. She was staring straight ahead at the side of a building.