Carson said something that made Taylor laugh. Harper glanced over quickly, surprised at how the taciturn man appeared more relaxed now. With Carson. Harper turned back to add ice to the glass. The high hum and clinking of ice from the fridge set her teeth on edge.
Nate strolled into the kitchen, an electronic game in his hand. He wore his usual T-shirt and soft, baggy shorts, skinny legs sticking out from them like toothpicks. He casually looked up, then stopped short to stare at the mess, momentarily confused by the state of the room. Then he saw Taylor, and his scowl lifted to a bright smile.
“It’s you!” he called out, pointing to Taylor.
Taylor turned and grinned at seeing the boy. “It’s me!”
Nate hurried to his side but stopped a few feet in front of him, his arms at his side, eyes wide and appealing. “Did you bring your games?”
“Sorry, pal. Not this time.”
Nate scrunched up his face in disappointment.
“How are you?” Taylor asked.
“Good.”
“Me, too.”
Nate tilted his head, curious. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Carson.”
Nate considered this. “Are you going to marry Aunt Carson?”
Carson barked out a laugh.
Harper swung her head around.
Taylor took the question in his stride. “Why would you think that?”
“On account of she’s going to have a baby and I was wondering if you’re here to be the daddy.”
Taylor’s gaze slid to Carson.
Carson slipped her palm on her cheek, speechless.
“You’re having a baby?”
Carson dropped her hand and shrugged. “Yep.”
Harper watched Taylor digest this news and was relieved to see him smile in genuine pleasure. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’m just getting used to the idea,” Carson said breezily. Then she launched into the story of how she’d been in the pool with Delphine and how the dolphin had been persistently echolocating on her belly.
“You were diagnosed by a dolphin?” Taylor summed up with a short laugh. “Classic.”
“I know, right? Gotta admit it’s a great story. I can use it at parties for decades.”
Nate tugged Taylor’s shirt. “Is Thor here?”
“Sure is. He’s out on the porch.”
“Can I go see him?”
“He’d like that.”
“Will he remember me?”
“Sure. He’ll be glad to see you again. Go on out and keep him company.”
“Okay.” Nate took off like a shot.
Carson smiled. “A boy and a dog. Another classic.”
“Iced tea’s ready,” Harper called out. She set out a tray with two tall glasses of sweet tea, lemons, and sugar cookies.
“Thanks,” Taylor said, trying to catch her gaze.
Carson said, “Let’s go out to the porch. There’s no place to sit in here.”
Taylor turned to Harper. “Are you coming?”
Harper smiled, pleased at his invitation. “If I’m not interrupting . . .”
“You’re not interrupting!” Carson exclaimed. “The more the merrier.”
They were just leaving when Mamaw entered the room.
“Girls!” she sang out in a high voice reserved for guests. “Look who’s come by for a visit.”
Mamaw stepped aside and everyone fell silent as a smiling—and then suddenly very confused-looking—Blake followed Mamaw into the kitchen.
Chapter Four
Blake!” Carson sounded astonished. Harper could understand her sister’s surprise: Blake had not been to Sea Breeze in weeks, though he lived on the same island. Their breakup had not been amicable. Glancing furtively at Taylor, Harper thought this couldn’t be more awkward.
“Hey, Carson.” Blake stepped hesitantly into the room filled with people. He was wearing a NOAA polo shirt and carried a computer bag. He glanced around, spotted Harper, and nodded with a quick smile of recognition. “Harper.”
“Hey, Blake.” Harper glanced quickly to Carson, who stood still and silent, her eyes haunted.
Mamaw instinctively moved in to smooth the awkwardness. “My, but there’s a party in here!” she exclaimed, arms outstretched. “How wonderful.” She zeroed in on Taylor. “Harper, dear, you have a friend.” She walked toward Taylor. “We haven’t been introduced.”
Harper stepped forward as years of training clicked in. “Mamaw, I’d like to present Taylor McClellan. Taylor, this is my grandmother Mrs. Muir.”
“McClellan,” Mamaw repeated, rolling the name over in thought. “Are you related to the McClellan family in McClellanville? I know Sarah McClellan. But, wait, she married so her last name would be different. What was it . . . ?”
“McDaniel,” Taylor replied. “Yes, ma’am, I am. She’s my aunt. She married Stuart McDaniel.”
Mamaw’s face brightened with the connection. “Of course. What a lovely couple. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen either of them. So you’re their nephew. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Taylor.”
Taylor stood straighter and took Mamaw’s offered hand with a particularly warm smile. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Muir.”
Harper saw Mamaw cock her head in approval of the young man’s manners. Harper stifled a smile, thinking maybe all they needed to bring Mamaw out of her funk was a handsome young man to pay her some attention.
“I’m Blake.” He shifted his computer bag to the other hand and stepped toward Taylor for a handshake.
Taylor shook Blake’s hand firmly. “Taylor.”
Blake and Taylor were close in height and both deeply tanned from the summer sun, but there the similarity ended. Blake was as lean as bacon, his face long and narrow. He stood in the relaxed stance of an islander with his hands in his well-worn pockets. His dark brown hair was longer than usual and fell in salt-stiff curls around his head.
In contrast, Taylor was broad and muscled. His shirt was ironed, his face clean shaven. He stood straight and alert in a military stance.
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Blake asked Taylor. “You a friend of Harper’s?”
“Yes, I hope so.” Taylor smiled briefly at Harper. “But I actually came by to see Carson.”