“You have to take her,” said Dalton.

On the other end of the phone, Doctor Cooper sounded older and more serious than the youthful, smiling photo on the stroke center’s website had suggested. “As I’ve already said, Mr. Knight, I’m not taking any new patients. There are other, highly qualified doctors who—”

“I’ve been reading about your success rate. My sister’s right arm is completely paralyzed, which means she can’t paint. That might not sound like a big deal to you, but it means everything to her.” Dalton leaned back in his office chair, frowning at his computer screen. All the research he’d done had led him to this man. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

“Without seeing her, I can’t tell you how much mobility your sister will be able to recover. But if it’s a full paralysis, I’m afraid the odds aren’t in her favor.”

“That’s what they told us at the hospital, and now she doesn’t even want to try. Some days it’s a struggle just to get her out of bed.”

The doctor’s tone softened. “I’m afraid my colleagues and I walk a fine line between being encouraging and not wanting to raise a patient’s expectations. We don’t always get that balance right.”

“My sister needs hope. Which means she needs you.”

“I’m going to be working on another project for at least the next year, but I’d be happy to treat your sister once I’m back at the stroke center.”

Not good enough. Dalton had read enough to know how important it was to start the treatment as soon as possible. A year would be too late. “Tiny will be back in Sydney within three weeks, and I want you to treat her. If it’s a question of money, name your price. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

“Let me refer you to my colleague, Doctor Harrison. He’s an excellent doctor who’ll be able to give your sister the best possible care.”

Although Dalton jotted down Harrison’s name and number, he wasn’t done with Doctor Cooper. “Tell me you’ll at least think about my offer,” he said before he hung up. “You can write your own check. I don’t care what it costs.”

After the call, he sat at his desk, absently running his fingers over the cane he’d finally finished carving. Every day Tiny refused to leave the island was an opportunity lost. There were all kinds of new and experimental treatments going on. Studies, test groups, clinical trials. If Doctor Cooper wouldn’t help her, he’d find someone who would. But he had to get Tiny to Sydney.

Time to go and talk to her again. She’d be waiting for him, expecting him back so they could eat together.

He took the cane with him and went out to the reception area, pausing outside Rosa’s office door. “Saturday,” Rosa said, obviously talking to someone on the phone. “Yes, that’s right. Good. I know it’s late notice, but you won’t let me down, will you?”

Rosa sounded tired. It was after six o’clock, and every time he’d come past her door, he’d seen her inside working hard. Still, when she hung up, he stepped into her office. “I need to talk to you for a moment.”

Turning to him, her gaze dropped to the walking stick he was holding. “That’s beautiful,” she said. “Is it for Tiny?”

He nodded. “Lantana flowers. The island was named for them.”

“You didn’t carve it yourself, did you? Oh, wait. That’s why there are wood chips on the floor of your office, right?” Her expression softened. “That’s a really nice thing to do for your sister.”

“Listen,” he said. “I need you to reserve a bure for a guest who’s arriving on Wednesday’s ferry. Mr. Smythe.”

She turned to the computer. “Wednesday. Okay. A few of the wedding guests are leaving that day, so we’ve got space.”

“Give him bure six or seven, closest to the water. Move people if you need to. I want him to have the best room.”

“How long is he staying?”

“Probably just a couple of days.” He hesitated. Should he tell Rosa why Smythe was coming? He hadn’t told Mere or any of the other staff yet. But he already had a conditional contract for the sale of the resort on his desk, and assuming Smythe didn’t encounter any issues, the deal should be finalized quickly.

“It’s important Mr. Smythe sees the best of Lantana,” he said, making his mind up. “He might buy the resort.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Already?”

“Already?” He repeated, frowning. “You knew I was selling the place?”

“Tiny told me. She doesn’t want to move to Australia. At least, not permanently.”

“Does everyone know? I wanted to keep it quiet until the sale was confirmed.”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But this is Tiny’s resort, isn’t it? You can’t sell it if she doesn’t agree.”

He and Tiny had started out with equal shares in the place, but a few years ago, Tiny had asked him to build two more bures and expand the restaurant. He’d given her the money, of course, no strings attached. But she’d insisted it was only a loan, and had drawn up a contract that put up her share of the place as collateral. Technically, he could call in the loan and sell the place without her consent. Not that he’d go that far.

He checked his watch and turned for the door. “I don’t have time to discuss this now. Tiny’s waiting for me.”

“Wait.” She stood up, her expression anxious. “Are you coming to the kava ceremony tonight? It’s at eight, so right after dinner. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Kava was a traditional Fijian drink, a mild narcotic, with a ritual attached to its consumption. Dalton had been too young to try it when he’d lived on the island as a boy, but he’d always been curious. “I’ll be there,” he said.

He found his sister in the living room of what he still thought of as their parent’s house, although it had been almost completely rebuilt after the cyclone. Tiny was standing up, holding the back of the couch for support. Instead of her nightdress, she wore loose pants and a T-shirt. The ankle brace that helped strengthen her weak leg was half-hidden under her pants.

Dalton stopped dead. His sister had done her hair and was wearing a little make up. It was a huge change from the way she’d been since the stroke. Some days she’d been so depressed, he and the therapist had barely been able to cajole her into doing any exercise at all.

His throat was tight with a sudden rush of hope, but he forced himself to sound as casual as possible. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Coming to dinner.” Her eyes widened when she saw the cane he was carrying. “That’s for me?”

“Could be.” She was holding onto the couch with her one good hand, so he slipped his arm around her waist to support her while he gave it to her.

“Lantana flowers,” she said, lifting it for a closer look. “They’re lovely. And silvereyes.”

“So you can carry some of the smells and sounds of the island. In spirit, anyway.”

Her lopsided smile held enough sadness to break his heart. “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing his arm. “I love it.” Tiny’s speech was less slurred tonight. It went like that sometimes, getting better and worse. He couldn’t wait until she got proper treatment.

“If you want to thank me, come to Sydney and get well there. I’ll find us a house overlooking the harbor so you’ll still wake up to the sound of the ocean.”

She shook her head. “Our parents built Lantana. We belong here.”

“This place killed them both, in the end. You want it to kill you too?”

“If we go, it will have been for nothing.”

It was the most complex sentence she’d managed since her stroke. “Hey,” he said. “That came out pretty well.”

She gave him a smug look. “Then agree. Stay on Lantana. Both of us here, we could make it amazing.”

“Sorry, sis. Truth is, you need to leave. You’ve got no choice if you want to get better.” He was about to say, and start painting again, but stopped himself. No sense in picking at that wound.

“Don’t want to sell it.”

“But you know you can never live here again. You need to be close to medical care, and Lantana’s too far away. Something else happens to you here, you’ll be screwed.” He gave her a stern look. “You’ll love Sydney, you’ll see. It won’t be like it was when we were kids. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Never again, I promise.”

Tiny was wearing a stubborn expression and he could see he hadn’t convinced her. Her face looked a little more drawn than when he’d come in, and the way she shifted against him, he thought her legs must be getting tired. She might be having a good day, but talking for too long exhausted her.

He’d wanted to tell her the buyer was visiting the resort on Wednesday, but this was the first time Tiny had wanted to eat in the staff dining room since her stroke. Now wasn’t the time to tire her any further.

“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go to dinner.”

Dalton escorted her out the front door and down the path. Rosa and Mere were already sitting at the big dining table, laughing at something. When Dalton and Tiny walked in their laughter cut off.

“Tiny.” Mere jumped to her feet, delight in her voice. “How are you feeling?”

Rosa got up and hugged Tiny too, and the three women sat down together while Dalton got Tiny a plate of food. They talked eagerly, the other women carrying the conversation with Tiny adding an occasional comment. Then Winston and Celina came in, and the atmosphere turned festive. Tiny obviously had a good relationship with her staff, and when Rosa started telling tales from their school days, the laughter only got louder.

Dalton sat back and watched, feeling like the outsider in their shared camaraderie. After their father succeeded in drinking himself to death here, Tiny had dropped out of art school to come back to Lantana and restore the run-down resort he’d been neglecting for years. Dalton hadn’t wanted to go near the place. In fact, he’d tried his best to convince her to sell it.

It had taken Tiny years to pay off the enormous loans their father had taken out on the place, and if she knew how much more than his share Dalton had secretly contributed, she’d be shocked. He didn’t need to put as much money into it these days, thanks to Tiny’s hard work. But his sister hadn’t just built a resort that was on the verge of finally making a profit, she’d also gathered a group of people who obviously cared for each other.

It was more than he’d done. But then, he’d never wanted that, had he? Looking out for Tiny was enough for him, especially when things went wrong, as they inevitably did, and caring turned to pain.

Still, listening to the easy way the resort’s employees laughed together, Dalton’s chest grew tight. Tiny looked happier tonight than since he’d arrived to take care of her. He could see why she didn’t want to leave Lantana. Which would make it even more difficult for him to convince her to let all this go.