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father’ll put an end to it like he’s stompin’ on a bug. I hate to break it to ya, pal, but you come from plain, ole, blue-collar, workin’-class stock . . . and her parents ain’t never gonna let her get mixed up with that.”
    â€œWhy? We have plenty of money, and this house is worth a half a million at least . . . probably more. I’ve seen the real-estate magazines. I know what beachfront property goes for on Nantucket.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter, Li. We’re not the type a people they associate with . . . and there’s nothin’ that’s ever gonna change that.”
    Liam shook his head. “I’ll take my chances.”
    Coop chuckled. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
    Liam finished his chili in silence, devoured a second bowl, and then, as was their routine—Coop cooking, him cleaning up—washed the dishes, all the while stewing over his uncle’s callous response to his interest in Cadie.

Chapter 6
    L iam had just locked up the boathouse when he heard tires spinning in the sandy parking lot. He looked around the corner of the building, and as the dust settled, he saw John Alden climbing out of his black sedan.
    â€œWhat’s up, John?” he asked.
    â€œJordy had an accident with Pride & Joy —she’s hung up on the rocks near our beach.”
    â€œIs he okay?”
    â€œHe’s fine—he and his buddy swam to shore, but she’s taking on water.”
    Liam nodded and reached for his launch keys. “We need to get her off the rocks before the tide changes or it’ll rip her apart.”
    The thirty-foot launch, which was kept in a slip next to the railway, was equipped for any emergency—extra batteries, an air compressor, a bilge pump, extra lines, life jackets, and under the foredeck, two large, heavy air bags and two heavy nylon belts—each six inches wide and twenty-four feet long.
    John jumped into the boat. “That damn kid,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I tell him to be careful, but he thinks he knows everything.”
    â€œMost kids do, ” Liam said, turning the key.
    Ten minutes later, John’s waterfront property—formerly known as the Wellington estate—came into view. Liam glanced up at the stately house as John pointed to the sailboat across the bay. Liam nodded and carefully maneuvered the launch alongside to assess the damage. He suddenly realized the tide was already coming in, so he quickly pulled the two airbags from under the deck, unfolded them, and climbed out onto the rocks submerged just under the surface. Then he and John worked together, belting the airbags to the hull. When they were secure, Liam climbed back in the launch and turned on the compressor. Air began to slowly fill the belts, lifting the damaged boat off the rocks. They waited several more minutes for the tide to rise, too, and when the boat was finally free, Liam gingerly pulled it away from the rocks, its hull groaning.
    As they towed it slowly back to the boathouse, Liam looked over his shoulder several times. He and Coop had built the gorgeous eighteen-foot sloop from plans Cooper had drawn. Liam had been in his late twenties at the time, and although he’d grown up with a love for boats that were made by bending wooden planks over wooden frames, his reverence had deepened as he’d worked side by side with his uncle on Pride & Joy with her gorgeous, varnished deck and painted white and green hull. “Wooden boats have a way of giving a man’s life purpose,” Coop had said. “They symbolize things that matter.”
    Now, as Liam looked back at the wounded sailboat, he shook his head in dismay—if Coop were alive, he’d be crushed . . . but he also knew he would’ve poured his heart and soul into her repair.
    When they finally pulled up to the dock, Liam quickly tied the launch, hopped out, and maneuvered the damaged sloop, floats