Page 1 of The Price of Protection

1

Nantucket Island

The beginning of September on Nantucket Island was a dreamy, golden time when the tourists left and islanders were left to their own devices, when the ocean’s waves ramped up and crashed against the beaches, and when the leaves took on reds, oranges, and yellows.

The baker Rose Calder liked to say autumn was her favorite season, but today was the first day of her daughter’s junior year of high school, so she hated the passage of time more than usual. The math was unavoidable. Maxine was sixteen going on seventeen. In two years, she’d be off to college somewhere, and Rose would be alone.

But now it was two thirty in the afternoon, which meant Maxine had another half hour of her first day before the final bell rang and she escaped. If Rose remembered correctly, Maxine was in chemistry class. Or was it pre-calculus? It was certainly one of those mind-bending ones Rose had previously yearned to be out of. Although, as it turned out, math and science were essential parts of her chosen field. Every day, baking was a science experiment.

Like always at this time, Rose was at the bakery. But because it was the first day of school, she still had many orders to prepare and seemed perpetually late. In the multiple ovens in her state-of-the-art pastry kitchen, she baked cookies, scones, and three different cakes, hoping to have them frosted before the wild rush of post-school parents and kids. Everyone wanted to celebrate with a little bit of sugar. Rose liked to provide that sweetness, especially to the children and parents of Nantucket Island. It was her calling.

A little after three, as Rose lined the big glass display case with cookies, a man in his thirties entered the bakery. He wore a dark jean jacket and an expensive-looking pair of glasses, and he smiled in a way that told Rose he wasn’t from the island. He didn’t really look like a tourist, either.

“Hi there,” Rose said. “Welcome!”

The man clacked in his leather shoes to the counter and spread his hands across the glass. He still hadn’t returned her greeting.

“What can I do for you today?” she asked. She didn’t like to judge anyone too harshly when they first came in, but come on, was it so hard to say hello?

At that, a mighty wind blasted against the bakery, and the trees out front bent sideways before springing back again. Rose shivered, cursing herself for not checking the weather before she baked herself to bits this afternoon. Those clouds were dark. She prayed that Maxine would make it safely from school to the bakery, or that she’d call with her other plans if she made them. She glanced at her phone and touched the screen but saw no messages.

“This is a cute little place you have here,” the man said finally. From his tone, Rose felt he was making fun of her the way big-city folks liked to make fun of people from small towns.

“Thank you,” Rose said, refusing to be anything but lovely to him.

“It’s really something.” The man raised his eyebrows.

If Rose wasn’t mistaken, she thought she could hear sirens blaring across the ocean, alerting islanders to seek shelter from the oncoming storm. “Oh goodness,” she muttered to herself. She hurried around the counter and went to the door, peering down the road. Just as she’d hoped, she saw Maxine and another teenage girl speeding down the sidewalk, with stacks of books in their arms. Rose shoved open the door and gestured for Maxine to hurry. Rain was already pelting the teenagers, drawing long lines of wet hair down their backs.

“Just in time!” Rose cried.

Rose thanked her lucky stars. Maxine was in the bakery, gasping and laughing. She set her stack of books on the nearest table and looked at the friend who’d run along with her, bug-eyed. “That was insane.” Maxine’s voice was bouncy in a way that suggested she’d been talking to other teenagers all day, pretending to be a version of herself that Rose didn’t fully understand yet. “And we had gym today! That’s way too much running.”

“Totally,” the other girl said.

Rose pressed her hand against her chest. “I’m so glad you girls made it!”

Internally, Rose made peace with the fact that parents and children probably wouldn’t make it to the bakery this afternoon, at least not immediately after school. Maybe they’d come after the storm, spilling out of wherever they’d sought shelter. Over cookies and cakes and scones and hot chocolates, all the Nantucket parents and kids would perhaps talk about where they’d been when the siren went off. They could discuss what it meant to live together on this rock in the middle of the ocean and how they were always at the mercy of such storms.

Rose prayed this wouldn’t be a big one.

“Mom, this is Minnie,” Maxine said, gesturing to the girl she’d brought along. “She moved to Nantucket last spring.”

An internal alarm bell went off in Rose’s head, reminding her who Minnie was. Minnie’s mother was Hannah Moore, the newest member of the Legacy Club. Rumor had it Hannah had discovered what the Legacy Club was up to—both the good and the bad of that strange group of Nantucketers—and the Legacy Club had no choice but to teach her a lesson of sorts. That was their way.

Knowing better than to get in the way of the Legacy Club, Rose had kept her distance from that story and from Hannah and her daughter, Minnie. But now, miracle of miracles, Maxine had decided to befriend the new girl. Rose was careful not to wipe the smile off her face. Maxine could sometimes sense her moods and her thoughts despite how carefully she tried to hide them.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Minnie,” Rose said. “Welcome to Nantucket.”

Minnie thanked her in a way that suggested her manners were good, which was something, and not always expected of late.

“What can I get you girls?” Rose asked them, hurrying back around the counter and grabbing two plates. “Cookies? Cakes? Brownies? Blondies?”

Minnie’s eyes were enormous as she scanned the counter. “I can’t believe my mom and I have never been in here,” she said.

“I told you it’s great. But I guess I’m used to it?” Maxine offered Rose a smile that lit up Rose’s heart. “I was telling Minnie what it was like when you opened the bakery, how I used to come in here and help you bake. But I was, what, like six?”

Rose remembered that, too. She remembered laughing, singing, and dancing with the then six-year-old Maxine. She remembered cleaning up spilled flour, sugar, and oil. None of the messes had mattered. It had felt as though she and Maxine were on a journey together. It had felt as though Maxine cared about the lineage Rose passed along.