Stella shrugged. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“Is that what you want? For Xander to stay?”
“Yes. I like him. He almost feels like...” She ducked her head, as if worried about speaking her mind. “He almost feels like what I’ve imagined a dad would feel like. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” Watching Xander with Stella the last few days, seeing the patience and enthusiasm he’d shown working with the girls on their sandcastles, had filled her heart with so much joy she feared it would burst. “But Xander’s life isn’t here in Butterfly Harbor. He has his family, his job, back in Chicago and New York.” She rocked her sister like she used to when she was an infant. “It wouldn’t be fair of us to ask him to give up all that just for us.”
“I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t stop hoping.”
“No,” Calliope agreed with a stiff smile. “No, it does not. Now, are we all settled on what’s bothering you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then we need to get ready for those market vendors. Why don’t you head on out and open the gates? I bet people will start arriving to set up anytime.”
“Okay.”
Stella walked slowly to the door, as if her thoughts still weighed heavily on her. “I had the dream about the owls again.”
“And?” Calliope prodded.
Stella cringed. “I’m sorry. I was still scared.”
“It’s okay, Stella. You want to know a secret? I’m scared about some things, too. But we’re going to be okay. Because we have each other.”
Stella nodded and left the house.
Tears burned hot in Calliope’s eyes. She hadn’t thought there was room for more love than she had for her sister, but she was wrong. Xander Costas had taken up residence inside of her, heart, soul and spirit. And with every day that passed, she was that much closer to losing him.
Hands trembling, insides shaken, she followed her sister outside, but instead of heading to the gate where early comers were arriving, she detoured back and around the far end of the property, over to the field of lavender and milkweed that bordered the thick grove of eucalyptus trees. In the stillness of the air she could hear the calming whispers of wings as the butterflies brushed against one another. She removed her sandals and sank her feet into the rich soil, clenching her toes as the dirt covered her skin.
“Help me,” she whispered as she turned her face to the sun and held out her hands, palms up. “Help me survive this.”
The butterflies in the trees, dozens of them, hundreds of them, took flight to encircle her. Some landed on her fingers, her arms, in her hair. She sank down, dropping to sit in the soil that had given her so much, finally lying down as her beloved butterflies continued to flit around her. She closed her eyes and waited. Listened.
And as she shed a solitary tear, she accepted what was to come.
* * *
“OUR FLIGHT LEAVES at noon tomorrow,” Xander called as he headed from his room into Alethea’s. He’d promised to get to Calliope’s to help with the holiday market hours ago, but he’d gotten waylaid by an impulsive visit to Liberty Lighthouse. Before he knew it, he’d lost most of the afternoon talking with Kendall, sharing the information he’d received from his friends back east. The lighthouse, keeper house and guest cottage were ripe with possibilities. Kendall’s impressions had been correct: the lighthouse had excellent bones and a lot to build on for an authentic restoration. Too bad he wouldn’t be around to help.
Not that he wouldn’t be coming back to Butterfly Harbor. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew, he knew, his design would be the one chosen. The extra expense could be dealt with. The uniqueness of the project, the dedication to environmentally friendly and sound construction would serve to bring added attention and exposure to Butterfly Harbor. So yes, he would be back, occasionally at least, to check on the progress and see his design come to life.
And to see Calliope. He wasn’t even gone yet and he was already missing her and Stella.
He tugged the hem of his black T-shirt over the waistband of his jeans and scrunched his toes into the new sneakers he was still breaking in. From everything he heard, the holiday market was as casual as it got in Butterfly Harbor. “Are you all packed?”