Cooper (The Family Simon 6)

“Changed my mind. The space up there is incredible, and I’d like to take advantage of it.” He eyed his brother. “I

stopped by their place yesterday.”

“Whose place is that?”

“The Campbells’.”

“Ah.” Rick fingered his mug. “And?”

“There’s a lot of pain in that house.” He watched his brother closely. “You know anything about it?”

Maverick shrugged. “I’ve heard some things, but not real clear on the details. People around here are pretty closemouthed. They look out for their own and are selective when it comes to their flavour of gossip.” He chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a small town. They like to talk. But there are some things that aren’t up for public consumption, at least to outsiders like us. The Campbell situation is one of them.”

Cooper wasn’t one to pry, and he sure as hell wasn’t one to gossip. But something about the look in Morgan’s eyes made him want to know more.

“What do you know exactly?”

“I know up until recently, Morgan was living in California. I know that her father drinks more than he should and that her sister is separated from her husband. I know that there was some kind of accident and that the mother and Morgan were involved. But that’s about it. I asked Charlie once, but she’s of the opinion it’s Morgan’s story to tell.”

“That’s what Jess said.”

“Jess?”

“From the diner.”

Maverick nodded. “Like I said, they protect their own here.”

Cooper was silent for a few seconds, mulling over the information he’d been able to glean. He’d been thinking of nothing but Morgan Campbell since he’d left her place. The look on her face when she’d picked up the shattered frame had been indescribable. Considering Cooper was a writer, that was saying something.

“Why do you care?” Maverick called Stanley to his side and reached down to scratch the top of the dog’s head.

“Just curious is all.”

Maverick let it drop, gathered up his muddy dog, and hopped into his truck. With a wave, Cooper headed back into the house. He strode through the quiet rooms and retrieved his laptop from the kitchen table before heading out to the shop.

After briefly considering calling his mother, and just as quickly deciding to wait until the evening, he settled in for a day of work. The sun was shining, his muse was beginning to wake up, and, as his Aunt Virginia always said, “Ya gotta make hay while the sun shines.”

It was time to put aside his curiosity over Morgan Campbell’s story and get to work on the only one he should be thinking about. The one Lee Holloway needed to tell. Always one to dig deeper, Cooper knew he had time to learn Morgan’s story. He wasn’t exactly sure why it was so important to him. Was it the look in her eyes? Or just plain old curiosity?

Either way, he needed to push all thoughts of Morgan Campbell and her family aside. Cooper Simon had to disappear, and Lee Holloway needed to make an appearance.

He rolled up his sleeves, opened his document, and got to work.

6

Morgan arrived at the old McLaren estate exactly five minutes before nine in the morning. With only a few days until spring, winter still clung to the area, but even she had to admit there were signs that the changing of seasons was upon them. The snow was beginning to melt, leaving wide swaths of mud and dirt, while small buds were beginning to appear on the trees. Patches of color sprouted where the sun hit, and she spied a robin swooping low over the house.

Not exactly sure what was expected of her, she’d brought along her cleaning things, but Morgan decided to investigate a bit before hauling everything up to the attic.

She cut the engine and peered at the house, her gaze slowly sweeping upward until it rested on the stained glass windows that adorned each side of the upper level. This place had been in the McLaren family for over one hundred years and, as far as Morgan knew, had stood empty for at least the last twenty. Before Cooper Simon, that is.

Seemed a shame that it had fallen into the hands of an outsider.

And that was exactly what he was—an outsider. He didn’t belong in Fisherman’s Landing any more than the humpback whale who’d made a home in the harbour a few years back did. So why was he here? What was he doing?

“Why do I care?” she murmured, sliding from the car.

It was still cool this time of morning, and she shivered as she ran up the steps leading to the porch. The damn twinge in her leg was back, and she winced, taking a moment before she reached for the door. There was a note pinned to it, and she grabbed the piece of paper, glancing around before taking a few moments to read it. The penmanship was clean with bold strokes, and relief flooded her as she scanned the message.