CHAPTER SIX

The lobby of the bed and breakfast, usually a calm haven scented with fresh linen and sea salt, erupted into a flurry of giggles and the rapid patter of small feet. April steadied herself against a nearby table as two whirlwinds of energy, Grant and Leo, zipped by her, their cheeks flushed with the thrill of their game.

Their laughter echoed off the walls, infusing the room with youthful exuberance. A smile tugged at the corners of April's lips, despite the near collision, as she recognized the pair to be Jackson"s nephews.

As the boys darted off towards the sunny bay window, April turned to see where the typhoon had originated. Framed in the doorway, Julia balanced an impressive array of bags on each arm, her stance betraying the effort of her cargo. The straps dug into her skin, her fingers white-knuckled around them, but her expression remained determined.

Without a second thought, April closed the distance and relieved Julia of the burdens, feeling the weight of more than just the luggage lift from the other woman's shoulders. "I"m so sorry, Julia," she said, her words colored with a twinge of guilt for not anticipating her soon-to-be sister-in-law's struggle. "We could have helped you with this."

From behind them came the sound of wheels over hardwood—a rhythmic rumble that heralded Jackson"s arrival. With a sheepish grin beneath his lips, he maneuvered several suitcases through the entryway, muscles earned from long days on the ranch flexing with the load.

"Julia"s got help," he said, nodding towards April with a grateful look. "But she packed as if the boys were embarking on a two month long luxury cruise."

Julia arched an eyebrow at him, a playful challenge in her gaze. "With little ones, you never know what you"ll need," she countered, a maternal wisdom lacing her voice.

April, understanding the unspoken tenets of motherhood all too well, offered a sympathetic nod. She remembered the days of preparing for every possible challenge with Georgia, the once endless lists, and the just-in-case items that filled her own bags to the brim.

In this moment, they shared more than just the weight of Julia"s luggage—a silent solidarity passed between them, as intrinsic as the tide"s response to the moon.

April watched as Julia"s laughter mingled with the warm glow of the lobby, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright. The pallor that had once clung to her features like a stubborn winter frost had vanished, replaced by the bloom of health. Julia moved among their gathered family with an ease that spoke of recovery and resilience; the gravity of her past illness seemed a distant memory now.

As she extended her hand to April"s parents, there was a softness in her smile, a gentle gratitude that didn"t need words to be understood. April recalled Jackson"s hushed tones as he"d relayed the nature of Julia"s ailment—an internal mass, non-cancerous but invasive, pressing against something vital.

What exactly it had been, April couldn"t quite grasp, but the relief that flooded her every time she saw Julia"s vibrant face told her all she needed to know about the seriousness of the surgery from which she had emerged victorious.

Grandma Vera, whose sharp tongue often cut through pretense as easily as a scythe through wheat, wrapped Julia in an embrace that bordered on protective. There was an unspoken truce in the air, the kind that family gatherings could occasionally summon when joy became the common ground.

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you and the kids are here," Vera managed to get out loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Julia struggled under, what looked like, a surprisingly tight grasp. "Thanks, Grandma. We're excited to be here, if you couldn't tell."

Uncle Eamon, never one to miss a moment of celebration—or any moment, for that matter—appeared beside Julia with the pop of a cork and the fizz of poured champagne. His face was split by a grin so wide it seemed to challenge the very limits of his cheeks. He offered a glass to Julia, the bubbles catching the light like tiny stars trapped in amber.

From where April stood, the scene unfolded like a reunion for the ages. She took a moment to soak in the sight, the warmth of the room, the sound of laughter, the scent of the old wood mingling with the tang of the sea breeze sneaking in through an open window. The realization dawned on her that, despite the myriad differences threading through the fabric of their lives, they were here, together, under one roof, united by something stronger than themselves.

It was moments like these that reminded April why she had fallen for this place, this life, and the people who filled it—why she had traded courtroom battles for the tranquility of Dune Island. In the shared smiles and quiet acceptance, she found hope that maybe, just maybe, they could all find a way to belong, if not to the island, then to each other.

The clamor of a stumble disrupted the harmony of the room, and April swiveled just in time to catch Chloe steadying herself against the scattered luggage. The entryway had become an obstacle course of canvas and leather, remnants of Julia"s over-prepared arrival still unclaimed by the guest rooms. Despite the minor fiasco, April enveloped Chloe in an embrace that spoke of warm welcomes and much-anticipated reunions.

Jackson's sister, Chloe, disentangled from the hug with a small laugh, her eyes scanning the luggage-laden landscape with a mix of awe and perplexity. If excitement was a color, it painted her cheeks rosy, yet there was an undercurrent of curiosity as she gestured toward the bags, as if they were strangers who had gatecrashed the intimate gathering.

"What is all this? I didn't realize you invited the entire state," Chloe said, humor filling her voice.

A shadow fell upon them, and Jackson materialized beside April, his presence like a calming breeze on a hot day. His explanation rolled out effortlessly, the words simple, but they seemed to hang heavy between the sisters. Chloe"s features shifted subtly—the slight expansion of her eyes, the almost imperceptible clench of her jaw a testament to an unexpected revelation.

"Julia and the boys," Jackson said, his voice threading through the confusion. His hand rested briefly on April"s shoulder—a silent gesture of partnership in the midst of unfolding tensions.

Chloe"s gaze darted to the staircase, then back to Jackson, the question in her eyes clear as daylight. Her lips parted, not in protest, but in genuine surprise. It was as though an unseen piece of a puzzle had just clicked into place at the mention of the wedding, painting a different picture than she had anticipated.

"I didn't realize she was going to be staying here with us," Chloe said, her lips terse and her words forced through her teeth.

Jackson"s eyebrows arched ever so slightly, a silent prompt for understanding. Chloe"s explanation, spoken without words, conveyed a sense of being left out of the loop, a feeling of disconnection from the plans and people around her. She stood there, a city girl amidst country charm, confronted with the unexpected presence of family she hadn"t been prepared to face.

April"s attention was drawn to a frosty energy emanating from behind, where the other side of the equation sat. She turned, her gaze catching on Julia, whose eyes were narrowed in a silent scowl directed at Chloe. The air seemed to be pulled taut around the unspoken that buzzed like an electric current between the sisters.

Without any sudden movements, out of fear of disturbing the tension, she leaned closer to Jackson, her voice a hushed undertone meant only for him. "What"s the story with those two?" Her eyes flicked toward the glowering Julia, seeking answers.

Jackson exhaled, his chest deflating slightly as if the weight of family drama pressed down upon him. "Chloe missed visiting Julia after the surgery, said work was slammed. They"ve been sparring over every little thing since," he murmured, the corners of his mouth dipping into a reluctant frown.

The delicate balance April sought in her home teetered precariously at the edge of discord. She raised her voice a notch, deliberately ensuring Chloe would catch every word. "Jackson, could you help with the bags? Chloe"s and Julia"s both need to go upstairs."

He nodded, a motion filled with an uneasy acceptance, and cast a hesitant glance toward Chloe. His hand brushed against the small of April"s back—a fleeting touch, but enough to ground her as she navigated the brewing storm.

"Champagne?" April asked, turning now to Chloe, her tone breezy, an attempt to inject some lightness into the strained atmosphere. Uncle Eamon"s generous supply was already glistening in the glasses, promising a fizzy distraction.

Chloe, still stuck near the entryway by surprise and uncertainty, managed a stiff nod. A single step carried her deeper into what should have been a welcoming space but felt more like an arena of veiled confrontations.

April navigated through the clusters of relatives, her hand balancing a flute filled with effervescent champagne. She reached Chloe, who stood isolated amidst the laughter and chatter, her posture stiff as if rooted to the ornate tiles. With a graceful motion, April extended the glass towards Chloe, the bubbles catching the light and winking like tiny beacons of truce.

"Champagne might not fix everything," April said, her eyes softening at the edges. "But it"s a start, right?"

Chloe's fingers curled around the stem, the coolness of the glass a stark contrast to the warmth spreading from the taut lines of her jaw. "I could tell her to stop being so petty," she replied, barely lifting the drink to her lips, her gaze darting toward Julia. "I sent Leo a nice birthday present, after all."

"Maybe it"s just a misunderstanding," April suggested, though her voice held little conviction, weighed down by the history of grievances she had begun to uncover.

Leaving Chloe to take a tentative sip, April crossed the room once more, her movements deliberate but unobtrusive. Julia was among family, her laughter genuine but her eyes occasionally betraying a flicker of something else—something that needed addressing.

"Julia," April began, her tone casual yet carrying an undercurrent of concern, "is there something we can do about this tension with Chloe? It seems to be casting a shadow over things."

Julia turned, her smile faltering as she met April"s gaze. The color on her cheeks was no longer just from good health or the joy of reunion; there was agitation there too. "She never comes by anymore," Julia murmured, almost to herself. "Complains the farm is too muddy for her city shoes. The farm is too dirty for her nice clothes. The farm is too horrible for her beautiful, perfect life tied up in one little bow."

April's gaze flickered between Julia"s softening posture and Chloe's distant figure, the tension in the room tangling itself like overgrown vines in an abandoned garden. Before she could weave another word into their delicate conversation, movement at the periphery of her vision caught her attention.

Three individuals—a couple and a lone traveler—hovered by the front desk. Their suitcases, a mismatched collection of weary leather and glossy polycarbonate, stood as silent sentinels beside them. The trio scanned the lobby with a mix of curiosity and restraint, like birds perched on a wire, unsure if they'd landed on friendly terrain.

April felt a wrinkle of confusion etch into her forehead. They were unfamiliar, these unexpected guests, not faces she recalled from the collage of well-wishes that had poured in for her and Jackson's upcoming union. She puzzled over their arrival; the inn was a tight ship, its arrivals and departures penned meticulously in her planner, a ritualistic dance she had grown to master.

The couple exchanged a glance, their hands brushing against each other"s—a silent conversation of reassurance or perhaps shared uncertainty. The lone traveler seemed to be with them, and meanwhile, checked a watch, then swept a look over the bustling scene before them, his posture a careful balance of patience and anticipation.

As April edged closer, the lobby"s warmth seemed to fold around the newcomers, inviting them into its embrace despite the unspoken questions that hung in the air. Could they be friends of Jackson"s she hadn"t yet had the pleasure of meeting? Or maybe relatives who slipped through the cracks of family lore?

She watched, heart tugging with the hospitable urge to welcome them, even as her mind raced with the logistics of unexpected guests. The layers of the day—family feuds, wedding preparations, and now this—wove themselves tighter around her, a mixture of challenge and celebration.