Heather released his hand and stared at the incoming boat. She said they weren’t expecting anyone, but the way she shook her head and stared toward the boat told him different.

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer.

“Heather?”

“It can’t be.” Heather’s hand went to her mouth. She turned then to look at him and gone was the laughter in her face and the excitement he’d seen only moments before when he’d been so sure she was about to tell him exactly what he didn’t even realize he wanted to hear. But he did want to hear it and he wanted to tell her the same thing, too. But now…something was wrong.

“What?” He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Who is it? What’s wrong, Heather? Talk to me.”

She shook her head again slowly but this time she answered him before she pulled out of his grip. “It’s my mother.”

“Your mother?”

Heather didn’t answer him because she was already walking, zombie-like, toward the dock.

Ash shook his head and followed Heather down the dock. Whatever was about to go down, he knew without a doubt he should be there.

Heather stood frozen on the dock as the boat pulled up alongside. He vaguely recognized the driver as a local from Bocas Town. “Hola, amigo.” Ash grabbed the line the driver handed him and tied up the boat before he had a chance to take a good look at the passenger.

She was an older version of Heather, with the same glossy dark hair and cute little nose. He couldn’t tell whether mother and daughter shared the same gorgeous eye color, because the woman wore oversized sunglasses. Despite that, it was easy to see there was a family resemblance. But that’s where the similarities ended. The older woman held herself bone straight in the front of the boat, as if she’d been positioned on a stick. It must have been incredibly hard to maintain that position for the long ride, but Ash had no doubt she had. Her mouth was set in a firm, straight line, with no indication of the smile Heather always wore, even when she’d first arrived to Casa del Sol.

“Mom. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she snapped. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

Heather made no move to help her mother out of the boat and it was clear to Ash that the woman very much would like to get out. With a quick glance at Heather, he extended the woman a hand. “Welcome to Casa del Sol, Mrs.…”

“Weaver.” She looked at Ash’s hand with some level of disgust and, obviously deciding it was the lesser of two evils, took it and let him assist her from the boat and up to the dock, where she promptly dropped Ash’s hand.

Heather still didn’t say anything. The two of them didn’t embrace the way Ash would have expected a mother and daughter reunited to do. Instead, they stared at each other somewhat awkwardly. At least for him.

“Let me get your bags, Mrs. Weaver.” She dismissed him with a wave, so Ash took the large, totally inappropriate suitcases from the driver and when it was clear that he was going to be expected to also pay the man, he dug into the pocket of his shorts and handed over a few bills.

Even after the boat drove away, Heather still hadn’t said anything to her mother. By the looks of it, they were in some sort of stare down, a contest of wills. Regardless, the sun was hot, and Mrs. Weaver looked as though she might melt at any given moment. The last thing Ash needed to deal with on top of the drama that was already unfolding was a wilted woman with heat stroke.

“Why don’t we go inside and get a cold drink?” He ushered both the women in the direction of grande casa, and dragged the suitcases behind him, bringing up the rear. Once they were inside and out of the sun, Heather seemed to have snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in and was at least communicating and acting somewhat like a hostess.

“I just don’t understand why you’re here,” She handed her mother a glass of water with a sprig of fresh mint in it. It was a little touch she’d started adding to greet the B&B guests.

“You told me, and I quote, ‘It really is paradise here in every sense of the word. You have to see it to believe it.’”

Heather almost choked on her own glass of water. “I didn’t mean you should come.”

“But that’s what you said.” Mrs. Weaver picked the sprig of mint from her glass, looked at it with disgust and tossed it to the side. “Why is there a weed in my drink?”

Heather rolled her eyes and Ash decided it wasn’t worth saying anything. He sat back to watch the familial exchange with interest.

“I also said I was fine, Mom. And I am. You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Then why would you tell me to?”

“I didn’t.” Heather dropped her head to the table and Ash jumped in.

“Well, now you are here, Mrs. Weaver, and we’re certainly very glad to have you.”

The woman turned to him for the first time with a look of interest. “And who are you?”

“My name is Ash.” He extended his hand again, but she still didn’t take it, so he dropped it. But he wasn’t deterred. “I help out around here.”

“You mean you work here?”

“No. Let’s just say that I like to help out wherever I can.” It would be impossible to try to explain his presence and there would likely be little to no benefit, so he didn’t bother. “And right now, I’d like to help you out, Mrs. Weaver. Where did you travel from today? It’s never easy to get to Bocas. I’m sure it was a long day, and you could do with something to eat.” He gave her his most charming smile, and sure enough, it worked.

She pressed her lips together as if she might protest, but then said, “Thank you, Ash. You’re right. It has been a long day to get here. Something I don’t think my daughter appreciates. I would love a snack and maybe a chance to freshen up.”

“Of course, Mrs. Weaver.”

“Oh, and don’t be silly. Call me Val.”

He was positive if he could see her face, Heather would be rolling her eyes when he winked and said, “As you wish, Val. Why don’t I show you to a room?”

“Oh, she’s not staying.” Heather jumped up from her chair and put her hands on her hips. “She needs to get on the next boat back to town and—”

“Heather!”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Ash smoothly stepped between mother and daughter. “It’s already late in the day. And we don’t have any guests right now anyway. Why don’t I get her set up in de la paz bungalow and then we can talk?”

She set her jaw, but she nodded. It was as good as he was going to get to consent, so before they could get into it again, Ash took Val’s bags and led her out the back door through the garden and into the nicest bungalow they had. Not that Val seemed suitably impressed. At least not on the outside. But Ash got the distinct impression that her primness was mostly an act, and likely the woman was just overwhelmed with the situation she found herself in. And who wouldn’t be? Bocas Town was a lot for a well-seasoned traveler to handle, let alone a woman who, Ash could tell by the age and condition of her luggage, probably hadn’t done much traveling at all, and definitely not anywhere out of the continental United States.

He took his time showing her how to use the facilities and made sure she’d sat in the rocking chair so she could fully experience the stunning beauty she was surrounded by before he took his leave. By the time he’d left Val, she was smiling and she seemed much more at ease. Clearly neither mother nor daughter were immune to his charms.

Just thinking about Heather made Ash want to rush back to her. They had a lot to talk about, not the least of which was the conversation they’d started before they’d been interrupted. He really wanted to get back to that because he had a feeling it was going in exactly the direction he wanted it to. But he also knew it was probably going to have to wait. And when he walked into grande casa and saw Heather sitting at the swinging table, a glass of what looked almost like whiskey in front of her, he knew for sure it would have to wait. She obviously had bigger things on her mind.

He’d waited long enough to tell her how he was feeling. Hell, he’d waited long enough to figure out how he was feeling. He could wait a bit longer.

* * *

“I can’t talk about it.”

Heather heard him come in and she knew exactly what he was going to say. Ash would want to know why she was acting so crazy with her mother. He’d want to talk about it and the very last thing she wanted to do was that. Why was she there? What could she have possibly said that would have made her mother get on a plane and leave the country for the first time in twenty years to travel to Panama, of all places?

“You don’t have to talk.” Ash slid into the seat across the table from her and took the glass of whiskey away. “But you also don’t have to drink this. It’s not going to help anything.”

“I know.”

“Do you even drink whiskey?”

She shrugged. “Seemed like a good time to start.”

He chuckled. “Trust me, it’s not.” He took a sip.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was probably right. Getting drunk wasn’t going to make the situation any better. Her mother would still be there. In her paradise. Only she’d be drunk. No, it definitely wouldn’t help the situation.

“Why would your mother drive you to drink anyway?” he questioned. “She seems like a nice enough lady. A little straight, but nice.”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No.” He raised his glass again. “You said you can’t talk about it. But I don’t believe that. I think you can. And more than that, I think you want to.”

Heather shook her head and looked down at the tabletop. She couldn’t talk about it because her relationship with her mother was complicated. It wasn’t always that way, but that was before. Before Heather had decided to marry Joe and leave. Everything had been fine between them until then.

Only because you did what she wanted.

“If you’re not going to let me drink whiskey, I at least need a glass of wine.”

Ash smiled. “Deal.” He got up to pour her a glass.

Heather took the moment to collect her thoughts and figure out the best way to try to explain the situation to him in a way that didn’t sound ridiculous.

She couldn’t come up with anything.

“Here you go.” He put the glass in front of her. “Better?”

She took a sip before she answered. “Much.” She took another sip and licked her lips. “It’s not that I don’t love my mother.”

“Of course.” Ash returned to his seat across from her.

“It’s just that she doesn’t get me.” She shook her head because it sounded so adolescent. “And I don’t mean that the way it just came out. I mean, ever since my dad died when I was a kid, she’s been crazy protective. She wouldn’t let me do anything. And I mean anything. She would have put me in a bubble if she could have gotten away with it. I know she was just trying to protect me. She was so terrified that something bad would happen to me if I left.”

“Left the country?”

“Left the country. The state. Hell, even if I left home.” Heather shook her head, remembering the stifling environment she’d grown up in. “It made me crazy. The older I got, the more I felt trapped. I did everything I could to try to get away. I mean, I loved her and everything, but I needed to get out and live, right?”

“Of course.”

“I applied at schools out of state after high school; I even got accepted to a few. But when the time came to send in tuition, she claimed the money was gone. The house needed a new roof. The car died. Whatever. I couldn’t go.”

“That’s terrible.”

That was an understatement. It was the first time that Heather had really understood how deeply disturbed her mother was. It was also the first time that she realized that if she didn’t do something drastic, she’d get sucked down right along with her.

And then she met Joe.

“So I got married.”

“Married?” Ash almost spat out his whiskey. “That seems drastic.”

“It was. But I needed to get out. I was drowning in my mother’s worry for me. I couldn’t live like that anymore.” She couldn’t. It would have killed her or destroyed her relationship with her mom. In hindsight, it did destroy her relationship with her mom. She never wanted that to happen. She’d been hoping to prevent that. But mostly she hadn’t been thinking about anything but getting away. Maybe if she had, she would have put more thought into her choice of husband. But then again, everything happened for a reason, and she wouldn’t be sitting where she was if it wasn’t for that choice. “I agree—it wasn’t the best reason to get married. But I liked Joe.”

“You liked him?”

She shrugged. At the time, she thought she’d loved him, but looking back, it was clear to see she’d loved the idea of what he represented, which mostly was getting away.

“Okay. You’ve already told me about your ex.” Ash leaned across the table. “But what does this have to do with your mom and you? I take it she didn’t like you leaving?”

Heather shook her head. “Not even a little.” She took another sip of wine and then another. “She said terrible things—about Joe mostly. But also to me. I know she didn’t mean them. Well, she meant the things about Joe.” She laughed. “But I know she was just hurt that I was leaving her. At least, I know that now. I didn’t talk to her for a few years and then I felt guilty. Especially when it became clear that she’d been right about Joe and me.”

“You couldn’t fix things?”

“The only thing that would have made her happy was if I went home. But by then I’d had a taste of life on the outside.” She used air quotes. “There was no way I was going back. Things with us have never been the same since. We mostly only communicate by email because that way I don’t have to hear the disappointment in her voice—I just have to read between the lines.”

“I think she’s trying to fix things, Heather.”

She stared at him, openmouthed. “What on earth would make you think that?”

He took his time answering, but when he finally spoke, his words pierced her heart. “Because she’s here.”