Xander shook his head, looking a little green.
“We’ll figure it out,” Hannah reassured them both. She hooked her arm through his. “Come on, Xander, let’s get out of here. Where are you staying?”
“I, uh—don’t know yet.”
“Right. That’s the second order of business. How about if we start with a coffee?”
He nodded and let her guide him through the shop and into the now-crowded lot. Seemed nearly half the town was there, drawn by the police car and ambulance.
“What’s going on, Hannah?” Cassie, owner of the Coastal Café up the street, wrung her apron in nervous hands.
“I’m afraid it’s Gus.”
“Oh, Lord.” Cassie whipped out her phone. Ten minutes from now, the whole town would have heard the sad news.
By the time she and Xander emerged from Garrett’s bakery clutching large coffees and a paper sack of pastries, the onlookers had formed an impromptu honor guard, a family of the heart who stood solemnly in solidarity and respect as the ambulance crew rolled the gurney past.
Fred O’Malley, keeper of Gull’s Point Lighthouse, doffed his fisherman’s cap. “Safe journey, old friend.”
A teen beside him added, “Gus is going home to Planet X.”
Hannah shushed him. The last thing Xander needed right now was mockery of his dear, departed uncle. In fact, he looked entirely too shaken up to drive, so she bundled him into his car and drove him to the Mermaid Lodge—not exactly the finest accommodations, but they’d sort out something better once he’d had a chance to rest and absorb the bad news.
She helped him carry his bags into his “deluxe family suite,” a wood-paneled room that hadn’t been updated since the last century, and pried the cap off his still-warm coffee. “Here, have some. It’ll help, I think.”
He took a sip, then set it on the nightstand, shed his rain-damp jacket, and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands dangling between his knees.
“He asked me to come. Said he had a big opportunity for me.” His voice wobbled. “He needed me, and I wasn’t there for him.”
The mattress creaked under their combined weight as she sat beside him. “Hey, you couldn’t have known. I’ll bet looking forward to your visit made him happy.”
He released a shaky sigh.
“You really loved Gus, didn’t you?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze focused somewhere past the olive-green curtains. “He was good to me. He and Aunt Martha took me in every summer. I mean, the whole family came to the beach for a week, but when they returned to Seattle, I got to stay behind with Gus and Marty to help in the shop.” He huffed a bone-dry laugh. “Not sure how much help I was, but it made me feel special.” His eyes brimmed with pain. “I needed that.”
Unsure whether he’d welcome the gesture, she gave his back a tentative pat. When he leaned into her comforting touch, she rubbed slow circles across the broad expanse of muscle.
Xander’s gaze dropped to his leather sneakers. “Then last week, he sent me that letter. Said he had some kind of opportunity for me, but he didn’t go into any details. Whatever it was, I guess I’ll never know.” He slumped even farther. “The shop, his house—someone’s gotta sort through all that, and I’m the only one in the family who’ll care enough to do it right.”
Hoo-boy, she should not be feeling this protective and fond of a near stranger, but the shock they’d endured together triggered big, warm, fuzzy feelings.
She squeezed him in a side hug. “Listen, you’re not alone. I’ll—we’ll help you through this.”
He leaned his head onto her shoulder, and her lady bits throbbed.
Totally inappropriate.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, Xander straightened and heaved a huge sigh. “You’ve been wonderful, Hannah, and I’m grateful for your help, but right now, I need to be alone for a while.” He gave her a heart-melting crooked smile. “You know, to soak it all in and figure out where I go from here.”
“Of course.” Shaking off her disappointment, she rose to her feet and pulled a business card from her jacket pocket. “Here’s my contact info. As soon as you’re ready, please give me a call.”
“Thanks, I will.” He stretched out on his side and clutched the pillow. A vision hit her of the adorable little curly-haired boy he’d once been, exhausted and tearful and in need of a good cuddle.
But he wasn’t a little boy. He was a grown man about her age dealing with grief and all the complications that came with a loved one’s passing.
She backed toward the door. “I hope I’ll see you around.”
