always play it off that she’d brought the beer as thanks for the lesson today. He couldn’t object to that, could he? If it felt awkward, she could shove the six-pack at his six-pack and run home.
“Jax!”
Someone called her name from the back patio of Westerly, and Jax’s thoughts scattered as she looked over to see Skye Sorenson Winslow, the wife of the eldest Winslow brother, Brooks, sitting in a wicker rocker with her two-month-old daughter, Sailor, in her arms.
“Hey, Skye,” said Jax, waving at Brooks’ wife.
Skye and Brooks seemed to be spending more time at Westerly since Sailor’s birth, and Jax had run into her a few times. She got a good feeling from the no-frills, down-to-earth blonde. She just didn’t know her very well. And suddenly it occurred to her that she didn’t know anyone on Blueberry Lane very well…and wondered if she should consider remedying that. Especially if she planned to stay at Le Chateau for a little while.
Stepping over to the foot of the patio steps, she looked up and grinned. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m cutting through.”
“Not a bit! On your way to see the Englishes?”
“Um, yeah, I’m headed to Haverford Park,” she said, hoping Skye would let her sidestep the question. She didn’t feel like explaining that the Englishes’ part-time gardener was teaching her self-defense and it was him Jax was visiting…the whole situation still felt strange to Jax, and part of her wanted to protect it by keeping it to herself. “How’s Sailor?”
“Come see her,” said Skye, her pretty face brightening at the mention of her tiny daughter.
Jax climbed the steps of the patio, setting the beer on the flagstone steps as she approached the mother and child. Nestled in a pink blanket, her eyes closed, her tiny fingers in a fist under her chin, was Sailor Winslow, fast asleep.
“Oh,” sighed Jax as her heart tightened with a wave of unexpected longing. “She’s beautiful.”
“Mmmm,” hummed Skye. “Right now she is. In a little while, when she’s hungry, she’ll be a holy terror.”
Jax chuckled softly, lifting her eyes to Skye. “I know nothing about babies.”
“Neither did I eleven months ago. That’s why you’re pregnant for nine months. It gives you time to learn everything.”
Jax had never thought of that, but it made sense to her. She gestured to the grand house behind Skye. “How long are you three staying?”
“Well,” said Skye, “I have some news, actually. Now that Sailor’s here, we’ve decided to settle down and really make Westerly our home. My mother-in-law, Olivia, lives in London as you know, though she’s welcome to visit whenever she likes. Brooks will still take sailing gigs now and then, but he’s going to confine them to the Eastern Seaboard, and only for a week here and there.”
“No more jaunts to Australia?” asked Jax.
Brooks Winslow was a world-renowned sailor and an Olympic medal winner who consulted for sailing teams all over the world. Because Brooks was several years older than she, Jax hadn’t known him very well throughout her childhood, though she and Brooks’ sister, Jessica, had been occasional playmates.
“Nope. No more. He’s a family man now,” said Skye. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Sailor’s forehead. When she looked up, she smiled. “You know…I noticed you were staying at Le Chateau, and I’ve been meaning to ask you something. I’d like to, well, I don’t know what exactly, but I’d like to host something, here at Westerly, you know? Sort of a summer party so people know we’re living here now—that we’re a permanent part of the neighborhood. I’d invite the Englishes, of course, and the Storys. Most of them live around here or in the city. I’d love for you, your brothers, and your sister to come too. We could have it in a few weeks when Kate and Étienne get home.”
“Sounds like fun,” said Jax, surprised that it actually did sound fun. She’d been so reticent to be out in public, her once-robust social life was now at a standstill. But Skye’s party, with people she’d known all her life, behind the high walls of Westerly, with her siblings in attendance, would be safe from prying eyes. She could be herself. It could be a blast!
“What about the Amblers?” asked Skye, tilting her head to the side. “I don’t hear very much about them.”
“The…Amblers.”
Jax thought about the family who owned the fifth and final house on Blueberry Lane, a sprawling farmhouse called Greens Farms across the street from the Englishes’ estate,