Cash takes a picture of Mick down on one knee, holding out a ring to Ayers. He sends it to Baker with a caption that reads She said yes, dude. Sorry.

Maybe, just maybe, it was all for show. Cash always wondered about guys who thought it was a good idea to propose during the seventh-inning stretch of a Colorado Rockies game or up on the stage during a Jason Aldean concert. Was it to guarantee a yes because most women wouldn’t say no in front of twenty thousand people? But then, later, was the ring pulled off the finger, put back in the box, and taken to the nearest pawnshop? Ayers looked surprised but not necessarily happy.

On the boat ride home, he asks Tilda for her opinion.

“She looked dazzled,” Tilda says. “In the best possible way. And who can blame her? Those two have been together forever, they’ve had their issues and come out the other side. They’ll get married and have kids. They’ll be great parents. They dote on Mick’s dog, Gordon.”

“Okay,” Cash says.

“Please don’t tell me seeing that upset you,” Tilda says. “If it did, I’ll drop you off at the National Park Service dock right now and you can walk home. Or find another unsuspecting woman to pick you up hitchhiking.”

“It didn’t bother me in the slightest,” Cash says. Which is true. His feelings for Ayers have changed dramatically in the past few days. “I’m worried for my brother. He really likes her. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent him that text.”

Sure enough, as soon as they get back to Cruz Bay, Cash’s phone starts ringing. Baker.

Cash sends him to voicemail. He and Tilda are going to her villa to “hang out,” then they’re heading into town for dinner.

La Tapa is closed so they decide to go to the Longboard—Tilda is in the mood for their frozen rosé—and who should they happen across but Ayers, Mick, and Maia, who are enjoying more champagne and platters of tacos.

When Maia sees Cash, she jumps to her feet. “Bro!” she says. “Did you hear the news?”

“I did,” Cash says. He smiles at Mick and Ayers. “Congratulations, you two.”

Mick puts an arm around Ayers and squeezes her. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Ayers’s expression can only be described as dazed. Or maybe she’s just drunk. “I meant to text you,” she says. “The boat has a mechanical issue and we had to cancel the charter for tomorrow.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to go anyway,” Mick says. “I want to keep her in bed all day.”

“Really?” Maia says. “We’re eating!”

Yeah, Cash thinks. The idea of Mick and Ayers in bed is enough to turn his stomach as well. He can feel his phone buzzing away in his pocket. Baker. Baker. Baker.

“Well, if I don’t have work,” Cash says, “that means we can finally hike to the baobab tree.”

“After school?” Maia says. “Can we leave at four so my friend Shane can come?”

“Works for me,” Cash says.

“And me,” Tilda says.

“Pick us up at the ferry dock, please,” Maia says. “And bring plenty of water.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cash says.

“She’s a force,” Ayers says. Her eyes mist over. “Just like her mother.”

At four o’clock the next day, Cash and Tilda pick up Maia and Shane in Tilda’s Range Rover, which both kids find impressive; immediately, they start taking pictures of themselves in the back. Cash has probably overprepared for the hike. In his backpack, he has eight bottles of water, two of them frozen, as well as trail mix, four Kind bars, two spare clean bandannas, and a first-aid kit. He and Tilda are both dressed in hiking shorts and boots. Tilda has six bottles of water in her pack, plus sunscreen, bug spray, peanut butter–filled pretzels, a selfie stick, and a paper map from the National Park Service.

“You guys are so…gung ho,” Maia says. She holds her phone over her head and snaps a photo of herself making a fish face. “We’re just gonna hike in our Chucks.”

“Yeah,” Shane says. They all climb out of the Rover and Shane gives Cash and Tilda the once-over. “But when I climb Everest, I’m bringing you guys with me.”

“Smart aleck,” Tilda says.

Chucks aren’t really the proper footwear for a hike but Maia and Shane have youth and exuberance on their side. They bound down the trail, and in a couple of minutes, they’re so far ahead, they’re out of sight.

“Hey, wait up!” Cash calls out. “It’s not a race!” He would like to look around, take in the scenery, maybe stop to identify some plants—though that clearly isn’t happening.

“So this company I want to start,” Tilda says, “would provide guides for every hike on the island. You wouldn’t need a map, and you’d have someone there to point out the pineapple cactus and the catch-and-keep, and someone to explain the historical significance of the ruins. The National Parks just aren’t staffed to keep up with demand.”

“I should quit Treasure Island and come work for you,” Cash says. “I’m much more comfortable on land.”

“We should be partners,” Tilda says.

“I have no money,” Cash says. “I might get some once my father’s estate is settled.” This isn’t something Cash lets himself think about often, but it’s always there, twinkling like a star in the distance—a possible inheritance.

“Sweat equity,” Tilda says, then she nods down the trail. “Look.”

Maia and Shane are up ahead, holding hands. Cash says, “I saw them holding hands last week in town. It’s cute, as long as that’s all they’re doing.”

“Don’t be naive,” Tilda says. “Do you think that’s all they’re doing?”

“Yes,” Cash says, because he can’t stand to think otherwise. “I’m new at this big-brother thing, but my natural instinct is to be overprotective. If he tries anything more, he’ll have me to deal with.”

“You’re adorable,” Tilda says. She turns, stops in the middle of the trail, and gives him a kiss.

Because they’re losing daylight and the mosquitoes are coming out, once they reach the baobab tree by the Sieben plantation ruins they decide to turn around—but first they give the tree the reverence it deserves. The tree is extraordinary in breadth and height. It’s the only one of its kind on the island.

“The seeds are edible,” Maia says. “They were brought over from Africa by Danish slaves.”

They use Tilda’s selfie stick to take a picture of the four of them standing at the base of the tree. After Maia inspects the picture, she turns to Shane. “We’re a cute couple,” she says. She looks over at Cash and Tilda. “And so are you guys.” She pauses a beat. “You two are a couple, right?”

“Uh…” Cash says.

“Right,” Tilda says, and they all head back up the hill.

When they reach the Range Rover, both Cash’s and Maia’s phones start going nuts. Cash ignores his—it’s Baker, of course. Maia does not ignore hers.

“Would you guys please drop us in town?” she asks after she checks her texts.

“Are you sure?” Tilda says. “I’m happy to take you all the way home.”

“I live on Jacob’s Ladder,” Maia says. “Trust me, you do not want to drive the Rover up Jacob’s Ladder.”

“You’re probably right,” Tilda says. “Town it is.”

“And how will you get home from town?” Cash asks.

“You’re being overprotective,” Tilda murmurs.

“I’m being responsible,” Cash says. “She’s twelve.” He looks at Maia in the rearview mirror. “How are you getting home? Shane’s parents?”

“Huck is coming to get me,” Maia says. “His charter ran late.”

“Okay,” Cash says. Reluctantly, he pulls his phone out. He has two missed calls from Baker and one missed call from Ayers, which he hopes is work-related. He shoots her a text: What’s up?

A second later, she responds: I need your advice.

No, Cash thinks. He’s not getting in the middle of this.

As soon as the kids climb out at Powell Park, Cash reaches over and pulls Tilda in for a kiss. “So we’re a couple, huh?”

“Yes,” Tilda says. “We are.”

Cash becomes so light-headed thinking about this that they get all the way to Jumbie Bay before he realizes that Maia was lying to him. Huck’s charter didn’t run late. Huck didn’t have a charter today. Irene told Cash that this morning. She was home all day.

“Turn the car around,” he says to Tilda.

They head back to Powell Park, where they dropped Maia and Shane off, but of course the kids are gone. Cash calls Maia and gets her voicemail.

“What do you want to do?” Tilda asks.

“Loop around, please,” Cash says. He hangs out the window of the Rover scanning the ferry dock, which is packed with workers headed back to St. Thomas. Did Maia and Shane get on the ferry? The thought makes Cash ill. They pass the jewelry store, the timeshare office, Slim Man’s parking lot. Then Tilda has to make a decision—right toward Drink and Gallows Point or left past the Lime Inn and De Coal Pot?

“Arrrgh, I don’t know,” Cash says. “I should never have let her get out of the car in town. It’s just, I knew she and Shane had hung out in town together before, but now it’s dark and she lied to me, so she must be doing something she doesn’t want Huck to know about.”

Tilda turns left. They pass the Dog House and the Longboard and Our Market and Cap’s, then Tilda takes a right and says, “Maybe they went for pizza. Let’s check Ronnie’s.”

Yes, Ronnie’s Pizza, bingo, brilliant, Cash thinks. They’re twelve.

Tilda pulls up out front and Cash runs in, looks around. No Maia, no Shane.

“She likes Candi’s Barbecue,” Tilda says. “I remember Rosie telling me that. Let’s swing by and if she’s not there, we’ll call Huck.”

“I don’t have Huck’s number,” Cash says. “I’ll call my mother if she’s not at Candi’s.”

Maia is not at Candi’s. Cash climbs back into the Rover and stares at his phone. He calls Maia’s phone again and again, it goes directly to voicemail.

“She’s ghosting me,” he says.

Tilda laughs. “Maybe. Or maybe her phone died. Or maybe she turned her phone off because she wants to kiss Shane in peace.”

“You’re not making me feel any better,” Cash says.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tilda says. “Okay, let’s think. Do you want me to take you home or run you up to Huck’s?”

“Home,” Cash says. “The last thing I want to do is face Huck.”

When Cash and Tilda arrive at the villa, Irene is sitting at the kitchen table, paging through a House Beautiful.

“Cash,” she says, standing up. “And you must be…”

“Tilda. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

“Are you kids hungry? I haven’t given a single thought to dinner, though I probably should, it’s getting late—”

“Mom,” Cash says. He’s not sure why he feels so panicked. Maia has probably already made it home. Shane’s parents probably came and picked them up. But what if they didn’t? Cash should have insisted on taking Maia straight home. She acted like a full-blown teenager but she’s only twelve. Twelve! “We hiked the Esperance Trail with Maia and her friend Shane.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Irene says.

“Then she asked us to drop her off in town,” Tilda says.

“She told us Huck would pick her up,” Cash says. “She told us it wouldn’t be an inconvenience because his charter was running late…”

“Wait,” Irene says. “What?” Cash watches Irene snap into parenting mode and it’s like being transported back in time fifteen years. “Let me call Huck.” Irene fishes her cell phone out of her bag and dials. Cash can hear her reach Huck’s recording.

“He’s not answering,” she says. “And I don’t want to leave a message and panic him. Maybe Maia is home and they’re sitting down to dinner.”

Maybe, Cash thinks. He pictures Huck and Maia at a table, Maia describing the baobab tree.

Cash needs her to be home, to be safe. He can’t handle losing anyone else.