Free Lost on Brier Island by Jo Ann Yhard Page A

Now they’re a bit too chewy for my taste, so I don’t leave them in. But the broth makes a tasty base for my chowder.”
    â€œI knew there was something!”
    They settled back after eating refilled bowls of chowder and countless biscuits. Alex moaned and held her stomach. After the big lunch they’d had in Digby, her insides felt stretched and ready to burst.
    The steady stream of food and conversation seemed to have slowly brought Gus out from under his gloomy cloud. Finally, during dessert, he let out one of his roaring belly laughs.
    Alex got a lump in her throat as she watched him gulp from his mammoth mug of tea, thinking of her own family dinners since Alex had died. They hardly ever ate together. When they did, no one laughed, that was for sure.
    Eva had just started to talk about her garden and the new herbs she was using in her cooking, when Gus banged his mug on the table.
    â€œI almost forgot,” he said. Jumping up, he walked out the door to his pickup parked next to the café. Alex watched him open the big storage box in the bed of the truck and pull out a bouquet of flowers.
    Cut flowers—ugh! Alex hated them. Flowers were supposed to stay attached to the rest of their bodies, growing in the ground, not be hacked up to die. They had been a constant presence in Adam’s hospital room. Her mother had always replaced the drooping and dying ones with new ones—their overpowering perfumes mixing into a sickly sweet stench.
    Her stomach rolled at the memory, chowder sloshing around inside her. She felt dizzy. Oh no, she knew that feeling. Any second now she was going to throw up.

Chapter Eighteen
    Gus stood in the middle of the room, holding the flowers awkwardly in front of him.
    â€œThey’re, um, pretty,” Alex managed to say, concentrating with all her might on not woofing her cookies all over the table. She sucked in a deep breath—thank goodness she couldn’t smell them. Look at something else! she ordered herself. Staring at the tabletop, she felt the waves of nausea subside.
    â€œI’d have been skinned alive if I’d forgotten ’em.”
    â€œThey’re not from you?” Alex asked.
    â€œNope. Not that I wouldn’t have,” Gus said. “But Rachel beat me to it. All tore up that you were hurt, she was. Ran off and picked these herself.” He examined the blooms. “Now, I’m no expert like Soph, but I’d bet a whole lobster catch that there’s some stuff in here that shouldn’t be.”
    â€œReally?” Aunt Sophie said. “Like what?”
    â€œYup, some of Eva’s prized dahlias, I believe,” he said, gently tapping a burnt-orange bloom. “Should know—I weeded them myself.”
    â€œUh-oh.” As annoying as Rachel was, Alex didn’t want her to get in any trouble.
    â€œDon’t worry, now. Eva couldn’t yell if her life depended on it.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Besides, can’t blame Rachel for being so upset. We were all worried about ya…”
    â€œOf course I don’t mind.” Eva got up and inspected the blooms. “Good taste, indeed. These are my favourites.”
    â€œLooks like little Rachel was in Big Meadow in the nature preserve and plucked a few endangered Eastern Mountain Avens while she was at it,” Aunt Sophie grumbled, peering over Eva’s shoulder.
    â€œAhem. Well, innocent mistake.” Gus pulled the bouquet away from Aunt Sophie’s inspection. He tucked it into an empty ceramic vase on the counter before returning to his tea. “Heart’s in the right place, that’s the important thing. Besides, flowers grow back. No harm done.”
    Silence settled on the group as each dug into their dessert and coffee refills. With the imminent threat of barfing now gone, Alex contemplated the juicy butter tart sitting in front of her.
    Underneath the plate was a touristy placemat, covered