By God, Dad would have loved this place. The bright colors, the salty air, the squawk of gulls. And wouldn't he have just gotten the biggest kick out of that huge parrot? A sharp pang of regret stabbed Josh, halting his steps, hitching his breath. His fingers clenched around his duffel strap, the coarse material and metal clasp biting into his palm. Damn it, would the grief ever stop sneaking up on him? Hitting him like a bull's kick to the head? Most likely not. But maybe after he'd accomplished what he'd come here to do… maybe then the ache would lessen.

He looked out toward the sandy beach and deep blue water and swallowed hard. Yup, Dad had wanted his whole life to come to a place like this, but he'd never even gotten the chance to see the ocean. His dad's crinkle-eyed smiling face rose in his mind's eye, and his raspy voice echoed through his mind, so clearly it seemed as if Bill Maynard stood next to him. When I retire from ranchin', I'm gonna satisfy this itch of a wanderlust, son. Learn to sail, then buy me a boat. Go places and see things I've only ever read about or seen on TV. I'm gonna sail around the Mediterranean. Eat whatever I catch for dinner.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Josh's mouth as he recalled teasing his dad. Eat whatever you catch for dinner? You'd better add "learn deep-sea fishing" to your list of things to do, Dad, or you're gonna starve. Won't be the same as pullin' trout from a mountain stream.

I plan to learn, son. And you can learn with me. I can picture it now. The two of us sailin' on the crystal-clear water, grillin' up the day's catch.

I look forward to it, Dad. But I'll bring along some steaks. Just in case.

A loud parrot squawk roused Josh from his thoughts and he resolutely tucked his memories away. It was time to check in, unpack his bag, throw on some beach-wear, and start fulfilling the dream Dad had instilled in him three decades ago.