Chapter One
IT WAS always beautiful in Mangrove. Even on gray, overcast days when it rained cats and dogs, even when the wind whipped through the trees and you could hear chimes ringing up and down the street, and even when nothing moved or stirred and it was simply a hot, sticky, humid mess, no one could look around and say the view wasn’t stunning. Having grown up in International Falls, Minnesota—before I moved to Boston for school and then to Buffalo to work—I appreciated the entirety of Florida but loved the sleepy little coastal town I called home. The days were warm, the nights were filled with stars, and I made sure to make time to watch the sun go down. Being outside should have made anyone happy, so hearing crying when I walked out my back door caught my attention.
Peeking over the side of the fence that separated my backyard from my new neighbors’, I checked to see who was doing all the bawling, and it was then that I saw the girl. She was sitting on her back steps, face in her hands, with sobs absolutely racking her slight body.
I didn’t want to be nosy, but when I turned away, she did the staccato breathing thing and began all over again. There had to be more from me than walking away. One did not leave a weeping, obviously needy angel.
“Hey,” I called over to her.
Her head snapped up and she almost choked on how much water she was producing.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”
She was adorable. Huge brown eyes, cute little button nose, dimples, and even though I couldn’t see it at the moment, I knew when she smiled that her face would light up rooms.
“Honey, you’re not bothering me,” I soothed. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right, is all.”
She nodded quickly.
I smiled. “Anything I can do?”
Quick shake of her head.
“No?”
“No, but thank you,” she said, which was nice.
“Are you sure?”
She bit her bottom lip.
“Could I try, maybe?”
She thought about it for a moment.
“You can tell me whatever it is, I promise.”
She took a deep, shaky breath, deciding all at once. “Okay, so… my dad’s in Miami closing up his office all this week; my cousin Debbie who was supposed to be watching me until he got here just left because she got a part in a TV pilot in Los Angeles; my aunt Genevieve who Debbie thinks was on her way here to take her place is actually in London on business; my mother died six months ago; and I think I just started my period.”
Oh dear God.
She hiccupped.
I would not show any outward sign of concern, which would be no help at all, and now was not the time for sympathy. Crisis mode was needed. “Okay.”
“So—” She started crying again. “I don’t know what to do and I can’t even get in the stupid house ’cause Debbie closed the door on accident but she was in such a hurry to leave that she forgot to give me the key and… I have no money and”—she sobbed—“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about the blood!”
But I, youngest of four with only sisters, that part I knew all about. After hopping the low fence easily, I started across her overgrown backyard with Benny, my black Labrador, trailing after me.
Upon seeing the dog, she instantly caught her breath.
“Oh,” I said, stopping, and Benny froze with me. “Do you not like dogs?”
She sniffled and shook her head, wiping at her leaking eyes. “No, I love them. My dog, Rounder, he died last year.”
Jesus Christ on a cracker. Poor kid was getting screwed coming and going.
I reached her, held out my hand, and she instantly took hold. “My name’s Hutch Crowley.”
“I’m Ivy Dodd.”
“Nice to meet you, Ivy Dodd,” I said, smiling at her.
She tried to smile for me, calming just a little.
“So I live right there, as you probably guessed,” I said, pointing to my back porch, which she could easily see. “And did you notice that you have a dog
IT WAS always beautiful in Mangrove. Even on gray, overcast days when it rained cats and dogs, even when the wind whipped through the trees and you could hear chimes ringing up and down the street, and even when nothing moved or stirred and it was simply a hot, sticky, humid mess, no one could look around and say the view wasn’t stunning. Having grown up in International Falls, Minnesota—before I moved to Boston for school and then to Buffalo to work—I appreciated the entirety of Florida but loved the sleepy little coastal town I called home. The days were warm, the nights were filled with stars, and I made sure to make time to watch the sun go down. Being outside should have made anyone happy, so hearing crying when I walked out my back door caught my attention.
Peeking over the side of the fence that separated my backyard from my new neighbors’, I checked to see who was doing all the bawling, and it was then that I saw the girl. She was sitting on her back steps, face in her hands, with sobs absolutely racking her slight body.
I didn’t want to be nosy, but when I turned away, she did the staccato breathing thing and began all over again. There had to be more from me than walking away. One did not leave a weeping, obviously needy angel.
“Hey,” I called over to her.
Her head snapped up and she almost choked on how much water she was producing.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”
She was adorable. Huge brown eyes, cute little button nose, dimples, and even though I couldn’t see it at the moment, I knew when she smiled that her face would light up rooms.
“Honey, you’re not bothering me,” I soothed. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right, is all.”
She nodded quickly.
I smiled. “Anything I can do?”
Quick shake of her head.
“No?”
“No, but thank you,” she said, which was nice.
“Are you sure?”
She bit her bottom lip.
“Could I try, maybe?”
She thought about it for a moment.
“You can tell me whatever it is, I promise.”
She took a deep, shaky breath, deciding all at once. “Okay, so… my dad’s in Miami closing up his office all this week; my cousin Debbie who was supposed to be watching me until he got here just left because she got a part in a TV pilot in Los Angeles; my aunt Genevieve who Debbie thinks was on her way here to take her place is actually in London on business; my mother died six months ago; and I think I just started my period.”
Oh dear God.
She hiccupped.
I would not show any outward sign of concern, which would be no help at all, and now was not the time for sympathy. Crisis mode was needed. “Okay.”
“So—” She started crying again. “I don’t know what to do and I can’t even get in the stupid house ’cause Debbie closed the door on accident but she was in such a hurry to leave that she forgot to give me the key and… I have no money and”—she sobbed—“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about the blood!”
But I, youngest of four with only sisters, that part I knew all about. After hopping the low fence easily, I started across her overgrown backyard with Benny, my black Labrador, trailing after me.
Upon seeing the dog, she instantly caught her breath.
“Oh,” I said, stopping, and Benny froze with me. “Do you not like dogs?”
She sniffled and shook her head, wiping at her leaking eyes. “No, I love them. My dog, Rounder, he died last year.”
Jesus Christ on a cracker. Poor kid was getting screwed coming and going.
I reached her, held out my hand, and she instantly took hold. “My name’s Hutch Crowley.”
“I’m Ivy Dodd.”
“Nice to meet you, Ivy Dodd,” I said, smiling at her.
She tried to smile for me, calming just a little.
“So I live right there, as you probably guessed,” I said, pointing to my back porch, which she could easily see. “And did you notice that you have a dog
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