There was a time when Patrick would have needed to leave immediately, to return to Connecticut so he could be in the thick of the action that was brewing down there. He would have turned on his lights and sirens, gotten there by late tonight. But court wasn't until ten tomorrow morning, when he'd told Liam he'd be there. So for now, he just walked inside the inn, told Anne that he was reporting for duty.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because today is going to be the biggest day of the ceili. We're expecting a busload from Halifax—and with our very own Marisa on the bill, all the Nanouks will be arriving in droves.”

“I'm positive,” he said.

Anne gave him a hammer and a tool belt, and he joined the team of workmen out on the lawn. Throughout the monthlong music festival, the entries had been winnowed down to just a few finalists. Today the big bands, quartets, and duos would be competing for the grand prizes and bragging rights. Patrick and the others were adding another row of reviewing stands, to make room for all the judges and fans.

He lifted planks, hammered nails, carried two-by-fours on his shoulders. Working up a sweat, he pulled off his T-shirt and threw it on the grass. He'd volunteered for the project the day he'd checked into the inn, as his way of supporting Marisa and Sam. Although Fallen Angels hadn't entered any of the previous levels of competition, Camille Neill, the family matriarch and founder of the festival, had granted them special dispensation—because of Sam's work as an international nurse, and the fact that she'd traveled the longest distance to compete.

At about noon, he looked up to see Marisa, Sam, Jessica, and Flora coming across the lawn. He wiped his face and put his shirt back on, bending down to pet Flora as she came bounding ahead of the others, with Jessica running right behind.

“Did she behave herself last night?” he asked.

“Yes!” Jessica said. “She slept right at the end of my bed.”

“And that was okay with your mom?” he asked.

“It was fine with me,” Marisa said, smiling. They had shared a long, sweet kiss when he had finally gotten her home last night. He held back now, not sure of how she wanted to be in front of her sister and daughter, but he was thrilled when she came forward and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.

“How are you today,” he asked, “after the eventful time we had last night?”

“I'm great. I called Jean this morning, and he said the seals are going to be fine. They were dehydrated, but other than that, they're healthy. He's going to try to introduce them into a colony of harp seals as soon as they're ready.”