Holiday at Magnolia Bay (Southern Born Christmas Book 1) by Tracy Solheim

before their father had stepped in and saved the Magnolia Bay home for her. She lived a comfortable life with a staff to keep her safe. No one in town was the wiser. Drew never gave a thought as to whether the situation bothered her. It was obvious from the dampness of her eyes that it did.
    “I want to leave a legacy,” she whispered. “To preserve something in this world that gave me happiness. The sea turtles give me happiness. Jenna brings me happiness. This project is what connects her and me. She has no one to believe in her. No one to support her. And, until Jenna, I had no one to carry on my dream.” As if sensing her owner’s distress, Zarah shifted closer and Aunt Evie clutched the cat to her chest. “And without the hatchery, Jenna will eventually have to move on to a research center somewhere else. She’s never had a real home. Magnolia Bay is her home now. I want to make it so she never has to leave it. Or me.”
    He muttered an obscenity. Drew had never seen his godmother look so frail. He was suddenly picturing her approaching the end of her life. Alone here in Magnolia Bay. This wasn’t only about a damn turtle fertility clinic; it was about keeping Jenna close. Something he was beginning to see the logic in. “Hell, Aunt Evie, if I had the money, I’d give it to you.”
    Her damp eyes met his. “But you do have the money, Drew. Your brother, Jack, will give it to you if you ask.”
    A tightening began in Drew’s chest forcing him to spring out of the chair. He was unable to endure the look on his godmother’s now delicate face. His brother, Jack, had taken over their father’s company six years ago. The last four of those years he’d spent pleading with Drew to join him at the helm of Union Hardware, the nationwide chain of box hardware stores that had grown out of the little garden center in Delaware Shamus Lanham founded fifty years ago. Jack was a bean counter, a CEO with all the trappings—MBA, designer suits, expensive watches, a country club membership. Drew wasn’t. And he never would be.
    He raked his fingers through his hair then gave his head a squeeze as he paced in front of the long windows overlooking the beach. The choppers were beginning to whir in the back of his brain. Jack didn’t necessarily want his help running the company. His brother just wanted to ease their father’s mind, to ensure Drew’s safety. They’d already lost their mother. She’d died in Drew’s arms one spring afternoon, succumbing to a bee sting she never knew she was allergic to. The world was already a confusing place for a fourteen-year-old boy, but the incident had only made it worse for Drew. He swam his way to the state record books, the Naval Academy and, after that, to a career as a Navy SEAL. If he couldn’t save his mother, he’d make a life saving others.
    Except I couldn’t save Atkins.
    The sound of propellers was getting louder and Drew had difficulty swallowing. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he choked out, keeping his back to her.
    “I know that trying to be the hero to everyone is taking its toll on you—your body and your mind. It’s been sixteen years, haven’t you beaten yourself up enough for not being able to save her?”
    Her words were like antiseptic in an open wound—they stung like shit. Drew closed his eyes but Atkins was there waiting, lying in the desert sand. He needed to get out, to torture himself in the Atlantic. Better yet, to bury himself in Jenna.
    Jenna.
    She’d been his crack this past week, an addicting stress reliever that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. When he was with her, the flashbacks quieted. Everything quieted inside him except the burning hunger for her. But if the turtle hatchery wasn’t funded, she’d be as disappointed as Aunt Evie. Was that how he paid her back?
    “You’re not the machine you believe you are, Drew. You can’t keep your heart locked up forever.”
    “I can’t think about this right now, Aunt