“I got the message you left on my home phone. Thank you so much for your kindness and the invitation to visit.” Betsy drew back from her, wiping her face with the graceful pass of fingertips over her cheeks. She moved with the elegance of a dancer. “I’m sorry to come without calling first. I woke up this morning, and before I knew what I was about, I was at the ferry on the way here.”

“You didn’t need to call,” Linda said. “You’re welcome here any time.”

“That’s so kind of you. I was hoping to see your sons, to hear more about what happened. If they’re willing, of course.”

“I’ll call them and ask them to come.”

“I’ll do it,” Frank said.

Linda handed him her phone. “Send a text. Tell them I’d like them to come to the house as soon as possible. That way it comes from their mother.”

Frank shared a smile with her. She was the best mother he’d ever known. If she told her kids to come, even her thirty-something kids, they’d come. Frank sent the text to Mac, Grant and Evan on their mother’s behalf.

He’d no sooner sent the message when his brother Big Mac came in. His gray hair stood on end, his face was windblown and tanned, and he wore a faded T-shirt and battered shorts with paint-splattered boat shoes. In some ways, the brothers were as different as two men could be. But they shared more similarities than differences. Frank embraced his younger brother, delighted as always to see him.

“That’s Steve’s mother?” Big Mac asked, his gaze fixed on Betsy.

“Yes.”

Big Mac watched his wife speak softly to the other woman, who seemed to be overwhelmed with emotion.

Frank studied his brother with growing concern. “Are you okay, Mac?”

“It’s been really hard, Frankie. I keep thinking about what could’ve happened to my boys… I can’t begin to understand what she’s going through.”

Frank hadn’t heard his childhood nickname in decades. It told him how undone his brother was by what had nearly happened.

“I don’t know what to say to her,” Big Mac continued. “My boys made it, but hers didn’t.”

“All you can do is express your condolences and support. That’s what she needs. That’s why she’s here.”

Big Mac squeezed Frank’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I.”

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

An intense ache in her lower leg woke Abby. The tattoo was killing her. Even the light brush of the sheet against her skin was painful. Adam was sleeping next to her, his arm around her in a protective pose that filled her with warmth and pleasure that almost made her forget the pain in her leg.