“Right.” Kellen would have to thank her mother-in-law when next she saw her for taking charge of Rae’s sex education. Verona had made this conversation so much easier…Kellen guessed. So why was she so uncomfortable?

Probably the knowledge that Rae knew what was happening between her parents, really understood it, made Kellen feel (ahem) awkward.

But she plowed on, saying what had to be said. “Having intercourse, especially for the first time, is a big deal now. In those days, it was best to be married first. There was a lot of bad talk about women who…”

“Had intercourse? Well, sure!” Rae was still frowning. “Now I’m worried about Ruby. She could be pregnant!”

“Yes, she could be.”

“With her father, that would be difficult.” Rae slid a sideways glance at the diary. “We could read more.”

Kellen flipped through the pages they had read, then flipped through the pages left to read. They were a little more than halfway done, and what would they do when they finished Ruby’s story? The diary bound the family together, kept them entertained in their down moments, gave them a connection to the island. “I think we’d better stop, because kiddo, we need to go practice the piano.”

Rae frowned at her bandaged hands, and wiggled her fingers. “I don’t think I can.” She grinned at her mother. “I guess you’ll have to practice for us both.”

17

Mara walked up to the Conkles’ cottage and lifted her hand to rap on the door—and listened. The couple inside—Dylan and Jamie, she reminded herself—were shouting. About the garden, the environment, the Di Lucas, the child. It wasn’t a friendly fight. Not even. Oh, so much opportunity for a canny opportunist.

She rapped firmly on the door.

The shouting stopped.

A pause.

Jamie Conkle opened the door.

Mara recognized her from her picture, and thought that in person, Jamie looked like a preppie East Coast environmental bully, all narrow black glasses and squinty-eyed suspicion. She reeked political correctness; even the dirt under her fingernails had been properly composted. Without saying a word, she irritated the shit out of Mara.

“Hello!” Mara flashed a smile she knew would be just as irritating to Jamie. “I’m Miranda Phillips, this year’s Isla Paraíso intern and botanist.”

“Last year we had a biologist,” Jamie said.

“I’m to do all the work, regardless of the science.” The job description had made that clear. No wonder no one wanted the position. “I was instructed to introduce myself here—”

Obviously Dylan didn’t find her smile irritating, because he pushed Jamie aside, took Mara’s hand and pulled her into the cottage. “Hi! I’m Dylan Conkle, and I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Um, the university sent a message…” Mara shot a sideways glance around, looking for some way to communicate with the outside world. “They said they were going to, anyway.”