Those Cassabaw Days Read Online Free PDF Page B

how to respond to.
    As Matt drove to the side of the house and stopped to let Emily out, he watched his new employer climb from the open door, throw him a grin and hurry over to his dad, Jep and Matt’s older brother, Nathan.
    “You remember my oldest boy, Nathaniel, don’t you, Emily?” Owen asked.
    “I sure do,” Emily said. “Hey, Nathan! Boy, your hair’s long. I really like the color.” She ducked behind him, inspecting. “It reminds me of a samurai warrior, only sun-streaked instead of black.”
    Nathan laughed. “Well, that’s a first! Come here, girl, it’s been a long time,” Nathan said. “Look at you! All grown-up and pretty!”
    His brother’s big arms went around her slim frame as they exchanged hugs.
    “You got plans for supper, missy?” Jep croaked. “If not, maybe you can cook us something.”
    “Dad,” Owen chided, “cut it out. Emily, you have supper with us tonight. Eric’s picking up chicken. There’ll be more than enough.”
    “Sounds great,” Emily replied, throwing a wave Matt’s way.
    Matt put the Jeep in Reverse, backed up and then drove it around to the shop. He shifted into Neutral and climbed out, pulling the chains to open the fifteen-foot metal door. He stood there for a second, glancing over his shoulder toward the house, his family and Emily Quinn. A long, exhausted sigh pushed out of his throat.
    Jesus Christ, this was going to be one long damn summer.

CHAPTER THREE
    E MILY COULD BARELY believe she was standing inside the Malones’ river house after so many years. Everything was exactly the same. The decor favored a true authentic nautical theme at its rawest. On the walls, an old cast net and faded blue-and-white wooden paddles decorated the space way above the brick fireplace. It had been fishing gear once belonging to Jep’s father. Known by everyone on Cassabaw, Patrick Malone had been the island’s very last lighthouse keeper. Emily remembered black-and-white pictures of him. Straight from Galway, Ireland, Patrick and his wife, Annie, had brought little Jep to Cassabaw when he was only seven, and from there, the Malone legacy grew.
    An old red-and-blue faded buoy leaned against the hearth, and a restored seaman’s chest served as a large coffee table. Two large, dark leather sofas took up the space in the middle of the open room. Not bad at all for a bunch of guys. Then again, Owen and Jep had been in the Coast Guard. And Matt in the marines. Orderly. Neat. It was a trademark.
    “Just like you remember?” Nathan asked.
    Emily smiled and faced him. “Exactly like I remembered. Even smells the same. And has the same record player in the corner.” Jep always played old music from the twenties and thirties. It probably was why Emily grew to love the vintage melodies and orchestras of the time.
    Nathan, too, had turned out to be a handsome guy. As tall as Matt and just as broad and muscular, he was two years older. He was the oddball of the Malones, with longer dark blond hair streaked by the sun, and half of it pulled into a short ponytail. And he did remind her of a samurai warrior. His skin was swarthy and tanned, but those trademark Malone green eyes stared down at her, curious. They differed from Matt’s, which were cautious, sharp and a bit angry. Sad, maybe? Even when he smiled, she could see it in there. She couldn’t help but wonder.
    Her eyes searched for Matt, who still hadn’t come inside. She found it sort of funny that she was inadvertently looking for him.
    “I remember you and Matt throwing plastic army men from the railing up there and bombing me and Eric while we watched cartoons,” Nathan continued. He rubbed his head as if he’d just been hit by one. “Those damn little things are hard as hell, and hurt.”
    Emily laughed and glanced up at the high wooden catwalk that connected one side of the house to the other. It was open from the floor up, maybe fifteen feet or so.
    “We tossed down more than just plastic army men,” she