“Challenging how?”
“He’s locked away our cell phones.”
“Then how are you on it now?”
“It’s only temporary. We’re going to put my phone back in the safe until tomorrow when I get off.”
“Safe?”
Hope lowered her voice. “Brent’s very serious about making things work.”
“Oh.” Jackie sounded surprised at first, then curious. “Is he?”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Jackie? Tell me that this is a marriage of ahhh”—she froze in horror as Grandmother Margaret rounded a boxwood hedge. She held clippers in her hands and wore garden gloves—“made in heaven.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I just want you to be prepared. For a very romantic wedding.”
Jackie sounded totally confused. “Naturally it will be romantic. All weddings are.”
“Yes, yes, that’s true, especially for couples who are in love.”
“Hope. Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”
Margaret sternly strode toward her, then pivoted and began clipping roses from the flower garden. Even with her back turned, Hope could tell Brent’s grandmother was listening with her eagle ears.
“Will you look at the time,” Hope said. “I’d better run. I’m so sorry you’re still sick and hope you feel better soon.” She dropped her voice into a whisper and hissed, “Super soon, okay?” Then she clicked off and peered at Margaret.
“I take it that was your sister?”
“Yeah, she’s doing a little better and is hoping to be here by Wednesday.”
“Wednesday now? Oh, dear. She’s going to miss the tea.”
“She feels terrible about that.” Hope forced a smile. “But she’ll be here for the boil.”
“Boil?”
“Er…bake. Clambake.”
“We wouldn’t want your sister to miss that.”
“No.”
“Or any of the rest of it.”
Hope swallowed hard. “Most definitely not.”
Margaret stared at her a long while and seemed to be deciphering something. “You know,” she said, briefly glancing toward the house. “My grandson has a very big heart.”
“Oh, yes. Very big. Big, big. Huge.”
Margaret locked on her gaze, and Hope held her breath, her heart hammering against her rib cage. “You won’t break it?”
“No, I…couldn’t—wouldn’t dare.”
Margaret clipped another flower, grasping it by the stem. “Let’s hope not,” she said, returning her attention to her flower gathering.
Chapter Seven
Brent helped Hope into the canoe he’d carried on the roof of his SUV away from town and over a one-lane bridge.
Several others launched kayaks from the same small inlet.
“Canoeing. Who knew?” Of course, she’d suspected that when she’d seen the boat strapped to the top of his vehicle, but Brent had been very cagey about what they were actually doing today, until he’d pulled over and parked in the shade in a nearby spot.
“Wanted to surprise you,” he said with a crooked grin. “I hope it’s working.”
“Consider me surprised.” Hope climbed into the wobbly craft while Brent steadied it in his hands. They both wore bulky life vests, making it hard to maneuver gracefully with the canoe bobbing back and forth. She felt carefree and daring and more than a little excited about having this adventure with Brent.
Although she’d told Jackie she’d try not to be alone with him, this wasn’t exactly breaking her word. There were tons of other people around, including more vessels out on the water.
Brent joined her in the canoe, hoisting himself inside it with one deft move and seating himself on the other bench. He looked really great today in a red T-shirt and khaki shorts that showed off his muscular thighs.
If Hope had known they were going canoeing, she might have dressed more sporty. But Brent had said she was fine in her sunflower-patterned halter dress and sandals. At least she’d brought along a big sun hat. Plus, before leaving the house, he’d suggested she apply sunscreen.
“My brother Derrick built this,” he said, his eyes roving over the canoe’s sleek lines. “You won’t find too many more like it: hand-crafted out of wood.”
She perused the canoe again, marveling at Derrick’s talent. “That’s impressive.”
“There’s a boatbuilding school nearby. He’s one of their instructors.”
“I can see why.”
He picked up one of the canoe paddles that he’d set on the floor next to an old-fashioned picnic basket with a flap lid. “You might want to hang on while I push us off. Once we clear the shore, it will be smooth sailing.”
“Or paddling, as the case may be,” Hope said lightly, and Brent laughed.
“Yeah, that.” His eyes sparkled, and she dropped her chin, embarrassed to be enjoying his attention.
He was trying so hard to take her on a fun date. And it was working. Only not on the person he thought she was—his fiancée, Jackie. How could Brent so easily believe she was Jackie? Hope had puzzled through it a dozen times and hadn’t arrived at a good answer.
This only proved what she suspected from the start. Brent didn’t really know her sister. And Jackie only surface-level knew him. What a messed-up situation. But Jackie could have helped with that. If she’d gotten to Blue Hill on time like she was supposed to, it would be her in this canoe now, not Hope.
So Hope shouldn’t feel guilty for having a good time. It was a harmless picnic, after all. And out in the open, in the middle of broad daylight.
Brent settled back on his bench and dipped his paddle into the water before stroking it back toward his hip in a practiced rhythm. Soon, they were gliding over the water.
Hope glanced at the second paddle on the floor, feeling she should do her part. “Want me to help?”
“Naw.” He grinned, and butterflies flitted about in her belly. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Sunshine glistened across the waves, and gulls called overhead in the nearly clear blue sky. The temperature was warm but pleasant, and a gentle breeze blew around them, riffling Hope’s hair beneath her sun hat. She had to hold it on at one point when the wind kicked up.