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seeing the happiness on a child’s face when they achieved something, or when she made a funny joke in class. Other people’s happiness fuelled her own. In fact, she didn’t know if she could have true happiness in her own right without helping it blossom in another person. Part of her people-pleaser personality, she guessed. It was just the way she was wired, and the way she’d been brought up. Look after others, do what’s right for them, and life will reward you.
    When midmorning rolled around, she was about to boil the kettle for a cup of tea when the door opened. James entered the office, his son by his side, carrying a pink owl. If it wasn’t for the fact that it would feel awkward around James, she would have knelt in front of the boy and asked what the owl’s name was. Instead, she glanced at James then looked away, pretending to busy herself behind the counter. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked in a polite but measured tone.
    â€˜I could answer that another way, but I’m here to ask if you have any fishing rods for hire. For my dad.’ His measured tone competed with hers.
    â€˜No, sorry.’ Emma tucked a strand of hair back underneath her Tarrin’s Bay cap. ‘The general store up the road has fishing bait and tackle, but the marina in the heart of town will have everything you need. Here.’ She plucked a fishing brochure from a display stand and handed it to him. She glanced at his hand when he accepted the offering, remembered that same hand caressing her face, his thumb running across her lips…
    Emma took a calming breath and forced herself to remain focused and emotionally unaffected. She was in work mode, and had to stay that way till five pm.
    â€˜Thanks,’ he said. Jackson put the owl on the floor and spun it around in circles, the boy making rolling ‘l’ sounds. ‘I also need a hat. For my son.’
    â€˜Of course. Right behind you.’ Emma stepped out from behind the counter and pointed to the revolving rack in the back corner. ‘Forget to bring one, huh?’ What was she doing, making small talk with him when he clearly wanted anything but?
    â€˜No,’ he snapped, and Emma lowered her gaze. ‘I brought one, but Jackson…’ James ran a hand through the thick, dark waves of his hair. ‘If you must know, he half-flushed it down the toilet.’
    Emma bit her lip to stifle a laugh, then cleared her throat. ‘Oh. Right. Do you ah, need any assistance with plumbing?’
    James waved away her concerns. ‘No, I got it out. Threw it in the bin. I think it was a bit tight for him, he has a few sensitivities with things like that.’ James put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to one foot.
    â€˜I understand. Well, there should be some here that are a bit roomier for a boy his age. Let’s see.’ She turned the rack around and appraised the options.
    â€˜Jackson, do you want to pick a hat?’ James’ voice took on a lighter tone, a tone she’d never heard before. His son stayed put, not acknowledging his dad’s question. James gently grasped his son’s hand and led him to the stand, pointing. ‘Look, hats! Want to get a new hat for your head?’ He patted Jackson’s head, which was covered in a mop of waves like his father’s, though longer. James picked one and held it out to Jackson, but his son pushed it away and grunted. ‘Not that one? Okay. This one?’ He held out another and got the same response. ‘You need a hat, buddy. Stops you getting sunburnt.’
    Emma knelt before him, not too close, but enough to establish her presence. She patted her own hat. ‘I’ve got a hat,’ she said. ‘See? Want to touch it?’
    Jackson glanced her way but didn’t make eye contact. Emma took her hat off and put it back on again, demonstrating how it worked. Then she took a risk and put it on the owl’s