‘‘I remember when you and your family were building this sloop.’’ She trailed her fingers over the wheel. ‘‘I was helping out at the waterfront the first time y’all took her out. Professor Quinn was at the wheel and you wereworking the lines. You waved at me.’’ Chuckling, she angled her head to look up at him. ‘‘I was thrilled that you noticed me.’’

‘‘I was always noticing you.’’

She leaned up and kissed his chin. ‘‘But you were careful-not to let me notice you noticing.’’ On impulse she gave his jaw a teasing nip. ‘‘Until lately.’’

‘‘I guess I lost my knack for it.’’ He turned his head until his mouth found hers. ‘‘Just lately.’’

‘‘Good.’’ With a quiet laugh, she laid her head on his shoulder. ‘‘Because I like noticing you notice me.’’

They weren’t alone on the Bay, but he stayed well clear of the zipping motorboats out for a summer-evening cruise. A flock of gulls frantically swooped and swirled around the stern of a skiff where a young girl tossed out bread. Her laugh carried, high and bright, to mix with the greedy calls of the birds.

The breeze rose up, filling the sails and whisking away the wet heat of the day. The few clouds drifting in the west were going pink around the edges.

Almost time.

Odd, she realized, she wasn’t a bit nervous. A little giddy perhaps, because her head felt so light, her heart so free. Hope, so long buried, was golden bright once freed.

She wondered if he would slip into one of the narrow channels where the shade would be thick and the water the color of tobacco. He could thread past the bobbing buoy markers to a quiet place, one without even the gulls for company.

He was so content with her beside him, Ethan let the wind choose the course. He should make adjustments, he thought. The sails would reef before long if he didn’t. But he didn’t want to let her go—not quite yet.

She smelled of her lemon soap, and her hair was soft against his cheek. This could be their lives, he thought. Quiet moments, evening sails. Standing together. Building little dreams into big ones.

‘‘She’s having the time of her life,’’ Grace murmured.

‘‘Hmmm?’’

‘‘The little girl there, feeding the gulls.’’ She nodded in the direction of the skiff, smiling as she imagined Aubrey, a few years from now, laughing and calling to the gulls from the stern of Ethan’s boat. ‘‘Uh-oh, here comes her little brother to demand his share.’’ She laughed, charmed by the children. ‘‘They’re nice together,’’ she murmured, watching as the two of them heaved bread high into the air for eager beaks to snatch. ‘‘Company for each other. There’re more lonely times for an only child.’’