Farewell to Cedar Key by Terri Dulong

established with a law firm. I most likely never would have become a nurse, and I had to admit, I did value my freedom and the independence of not having to answer to anybody.
    I was just about to make myself a cup of tea and settle down with some knitting when the phone rang. I thought maybe it was Grant calling back with details, so I was surprised to hear Simon’s voice.
    â€œHi, how are you?” I said.
    â€œFine, and I’m sorry to bother you so soon, but on the drive back to St. Augustine I had a million things floating around in my head. I’m thinking I should hire a girl to cover the desk. You know, like a receptionist. I don’t expect you to make and confirm the appointments and be in charge of the general office work. You’ll be busy enough doing nurse-related tasks. So I was wondering if maybe you knew of somebody who might have adequate office skills and would like a job.”
    â€œHmm,” I said, trying to think of somebody. I hadn’t even thought to ask him about that, because many times in a small office the nurse also handles the front desk. “Well . . . not off hand. But let me think about it. I’m sure there’s somebody on the island who would love that position. Call me back next week and hopefully I’ll have found somebody for you.”
    â€œGreat. Thank you. Oh, and Josie . . . I really enjoyed having lunch with you today and getting to know you.”
    â€œSame here,” I said before hanging up.
    I poured water into my mug and added an herbal tea bag. I got the feeling that our meeting might have meant a little more to him than simply an interview for a job. Based on his good looks and personality, I realized that might not be a bad thing. Forget it, Josie, I thought. You’re barely out of whatever it was that you had with Ben.
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    Saturdays were usually busy at the yarn shop, so I wasn’t surprised to glance at my watch and see it was going on four. Dora had left at two and I wouldn’t be closing for another hour, so I decided to unpack a new shipment of yarn that had arrived earlier.
    I opened the box and discovered some yummy Manos del Uruguay Fino, an extrafine merino and silk. The colors were gorgeous, and I loved the names that went with them—Watered Silk, Silhouette, and Antique Lace. One was called Crystal Goblet and was a beautiful greenish beige. I recalled that I had recently seen a pattern for a shawl called Pluma Shawlette and knew I was going to have to search for the pattern and purchase the yarn. I also knew that once I returned to my nursing position, I’d probably be saving myself some money.
    I turned around when I heard the door chimes, and I saw Saxton Tate walk in.
    â€œHey, Josie,” he said, looking around. He appeared to be hesitant about walking farther into the shop.
    â€œSaxton, good to see you. Berkley mentioned you’d be stopping by to sign up for the class.”
    â€œShe did? Am I the first one?”
    â€œNo, not at all,” I said, attempting to put him at ease. “You’ll be number four.”
    â€œReally?”
    I laughed. “Yes, really. My dad has signed up and so has Doyle, and we have a winter resident on the island who is also confirmed.”
    â€œOh, good. Good,” he said, and I saw the expression on his face relax. “So just tell me what I need to do.”
    â€œThe class is forty dollars for the four weeks. You’ll be using our stash yarn to begin with, but then you’ll be making a simple scarf.” I walked to the wall and gestured. “So choose a skein of anything in here that you think you might like as a scarf, and I’ll get your needles for you.”
    He returned to the counter a few minutes later with a skein of Berroco worsted in shades of blue.
    â€œVery nice,” I said. “And it’s machine washable, which is great. Okay. I’ll total you up.”
    â€œI’m not sure I’ll get the hang of