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Chapter 1
Chapter One: The Inn Wakes
The morning light came in thin bands across the worn wood floors of Drake’s Tide Inn, sliding under doors and through the lobby like it knew the way. The ocean hummed beyond the dunes. Delivery trucks rumbled in and out. In the kitchen, someone laughed over the squeal of a mixer. A florist’s cart scraped the threshold.
Isabelle Drake stood at the window and watched gulls ride the wind. She had a schedule tucked into her back pocket and a hundred small tasks in her head. When she caught sight of her reflection in the glass, the veil pinned to her hair looked like a white wing folded and waiting.
“Who schedules a wedding on a weekend in July?” Claire said, breathless, appearing beside her with a basket of ribbon-wrapped menus. “Oh, right. You do.”
Isabelle’s smile was easy and true. “Says the woman who recommended it builds the inn’s summer buzz.”
They sorted menus at the front desk, and Claire told a story about Isabelle at six insisting on being the flower girl at a stranger’s wedding on the beach. “You marched down in flip-flops and a bathing suit,” Claire said, “and your grandfather let you because he said the bride needed courage.”
“How did she take it?”
“She cried like a tide. Happy tears. You waved like a parade queen.”
Isabelle laughed and tucked the memory like a penny for luck. Staff rushed past. Guests drifted in holding garment bags, hugging Margaret, who seemed to greet everyone by name. The inn felt like a held breath ready for a song.
Claire bumped Isabelle’s shoulder. “You all right?”
“I’m good,” Isabelle said. “I was going to grab Pop’s cufflinks. I want him there somehow.”
“Storage closet,” Claire said. “Top shelf in a jewelry box. Left of the linens.”
“Got it.”
Isabelle headed down the hall. The scent of brine and lemon oil followed her. She thought of Daniel, already out back with his brother Ethan, checking the tent lines like a man testing a new sail. Steady, Daniel would say when the wind kicked up. Keep your hands easy.
She liked the ring of the day. It felt earned. It felt like a story they had been writing together since the night he carried hot coffee and dry socks to a rain-soaked beach cleanup and stayed until dawn.
