Big Mac stepped forward, put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m glad one of us was thinking clearly, and I’m sorry if I’ve given you the impression I was pissed. I might’ve been in the moment, but I’m not now. Okay?”

Luke nodded, the relief showing in his expression.

“You’re one of my kids, Luke Harris. I could never be truly pissed at you. Never.”

“Shit… You gotta put it that way, huh?”

Big Mac hugged him. “’Fraid so.”

Luke returned the embrace and patted him on the back. “Thank God they’re all right.”

“Yes. Thank God. And thank you. You did the right thing, but then again, you always do. You’re a good man, and I’m proud to call you one of my own.”

When Luke stepped back from him, Big Mac thought he saw a tear or two in the younger man’s eyes. They’d all done their share of weeping lately. “You can’t possibly know how much that means to me,” Luke said.

“Go on home to your wife, son. Everything’s okay here.” And it was, Big Mac thought as he watched Luke walk up the pier to the parking lot. Everything was okay. He just had to keep telling himself that in the hope that someday soon he’d believe it.

Linda was enjoying a glass of wine at the kitchen table when Big Mac returned from the marina. “Everything all right down the hill?”

“Yep. Got a couple of party boats still in from Race Week, so I wanted to make sure they aren’t going to keep everyone else up all night.”

“Remember when that would’ve been us? Up all night with our friends, partying till the sun came up?”

“That was a very long time ago.”

“Those were fun times.”

He popped open a beer and joined her at the table. “Yes, they were. Before five kids came along and ruined everything.”

Linda shared a smile with him. They’d never done anything more fun than raise those five kids and their assortment of cousins and friends.

“I ran into Luke down there. The poor kid thought I was pissed with him for stopping me from going out after the boys.”

“Oh, no. All this time he was thinking that? What did he say?”

Big Mac relayed the essence of their conversation. “I told him I could never be truly pissed at him.”

“He loves you so much.”

“I know. And the feeling is entirely mutual. What a good kid he is to be down at the docks checking on things so late. I sure got lucky when I hired that eager fourteen-year-old.”

Linda covered his hand with hers. “He got lucky, too. He got a job and a dad out of it.”

They shared a warm smile.

“I’m worried about Grant,” she said. “Really worried.”

“I am, too.”