Excerpt of The Summer That Shaped Us by Lori Wilde

“A challenge is nothing more than opportunity in disguise”—Eloisa Hobby

Each sunrise, for the last fifteen years since she’d created Hobby Island, Eloisa dined on a breakfast of freshly picked berries, homemade scones, clotted cream, and peppermint tea. She fed her sweet calico Felena, donned a festive hat that often didn’t match her outfit, detoured into the flower garden, plucked a bright bloom, and stuck it in her hatband. She would gather her needlework, mount her unicycle, and pedal through the cobblestone streets of Crafters’ Corner, her knitting needles clacking.

“Halloo!” She called to everyone she met and nodded as she purled and pedaled. “Good morning to you.”

“Good morning. Halloo!” they’d echo, raising hands and sending sunny smiles in greeting. 

“Great day to be alive!” She’d laugh merrily and cycle on, a tail of colorful yarn flying out behind her.

But not today. 

Today was different. 

Today was troubled.

In all honesty, today stunk like Auntie Dot’s salves and poultices. Not that Dot’s pungent home remedies weren’t helpful, for surely, they were, but the salves and tinctures reeked to high heaven.

On this sun-kissed dawn in early May, the island’s sole security officer, Paul Chance, knocked on her front door while Eloisa was still in her terrycloth bathrobe. Felena weaved around her ankles, mewing, as Eloisa let Paul inside.

“Good morning, Paul.” Her smile was cheery as ever, but the look in his eyes and his unannounced arrival on her doorstep suggested this was not a happy visit. “Come in, come in. Would you like some peppermint tea?”

“No, ma’am.” He doffed his sun-faded Tilley hat and held it clutched in one hand. Bits of dewy grass clung to the cuffs of his work pants, and garden shears protruded from his back pocket. “I have unpleasant news.”

Eloisa suspected as much.

Paul was a striking man of forty. Dark hair. Straight white teeth. Tall. Strong. Handsome. Julie, his late wife, had been Eloisa’s ex-husband’s niece. And Paul was like a nephew to her. 

She had built the resort for crafters around the same time Paul became a single father. Circumstances pushed him to leave his cybersecurity work for the Navy, and that’s when Eloisa stepped in, offering him a job and a free, safe place to raise his little girl.

It had been Paul’s idea to pose as the island’s gardener. A discreet way to keep an eye on the guests and circumvent problems before they got started. Win-win for Eloisa to have a security officer and an accomplished gardener wrapped up into one excellent employee. She couldn’t run the place without him.

Eloisa smoothed her bedhead hair, tightened the sash on her robe and the led the way into her tidy office. She eased down onto the vibrant green settee and patted the cushion beside her as the pastel fingers of dawn slipped across the room and Felena hopped into her lap.

Paul settled in, resting his Tilley hat on his knee. He smelled of springtime dew, jacaranda blossoms and cedar mulch, an earthy, steadfast scent.

“What’s brought you here on this fine day?” Eloisa met Paul’s intense blue eyes. 

“The algorithm I created for your private quilters’ group…” Paul’s voice was even, but Eloisa heard tension running through it, “flags unusual activity—things like rapid private message exchanges or repeated contact with multiple members.”

Eloisa nodded. Her understanding of technology was limited, but her grasp of human nature was profound. 

“And what has your algorithm discovered?” She gently scratched the calico behind her ears.

“It’s identified a pattern consistent with online scammers, targeting members of your quilting circle. A user has been catfishing other group members by pretending to be a love interest.” Paul paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. 

“My goodness, a sweetheart scam.” Eloisa bit her bottom lip as Felena’s soft paws kneaded her lap. “That’s dreadful, but how can we be certain? I don’t want to accuse anyone wrongly.”

“The algorithm picked up a cluster of complaints from the members, along with unusual account activity. One member, in particular, Jeanie Montgomery, seems to have been hit the hardest. There’s evidence suggesting she’s lost a significant sum of money, perhaps even her life savings.” Paul pressed his lips together, pity in his eyes.

“Oh, dear.” Eloisa placed a palm to her heart. “I feel so responsible.”

“It’s not your fault. We had every safeguard in place, but scammers do what scammers do. Don’t worry. We’ll nip this in the bud. That’s why you’ve got me…” His gaze sought hers. “There’s something else you should know.”

Eloisa titled her head and peered into his trustworthy eyes. “And what is that, my dear?”

“I’m acquainted with Jeanie Montgomery.”

“What a strange coincidence!”

“Not really. Jeanie’s a seamstress by trade and an avid quilter. You run one of the biggest online quilting forums in the world. It’s just unfortunate that another member of the group targeted her.”

Was this a conflict of interest for Paul? Eloisa searched his body language for clues. He wasn’t a secretive man, but he was self-contained. “What’s your association with Jeanie?” 

“Back in high school, I dated Jeanie’s daughter, Luna.”

“Ahh, blast from your past.”

“It’s stirred a memory or two.” He gave an amused smile, but the look in his eyes signaled her to leave the topic alone. She could see that this Luna woman was a painful wound, even after two decades.

She wondered what had happened, but she was far too polite to ask. “All right.”

 “I’m just being up front. Full disclosure.”

“I appreciate that. As for the scammer, do we have any idea who it is?”

“From the interactions and patterns,” he said, keeping his explanation simple for her. “I’ve narrowed it down to three group members. All have displayed similar red-flag behaviors.”

“Three suspects. That’s impressive, Paul, that you weeded out so many others. We have over six hundred thousand members on the forum.”

“I did do work briefly for the NSA,” he reminded her. “They taught me skills many don’t have. I just wish I could pinpoint the culprit precisely.”

Eloisa let out a soft sigh. Well, this news put a crimp in her day. “We must act, Paul. We can’t allow deceit, manipulation, and theft to harm our sacred space.”

“I agree.”

“Any suggestions?”

“I propose we invite Jeanie and the three suspects here for the quilting competition this summer. Send out those coveted golden tickets of yours, all expenses paid. Who could turn down a gratis vacation to Hobby Island?”

“Excellent idea.”

“We’ll watch the suspects when they get here and uncover who the real scammer is so we can confront them in person.” Paul rested his palms flat against his thighs.

“What if one or more of them doesn’t accept the invitation?”

“We’ll observe those who do come and either rule them in or out and whomever is left…” He shrugged.

“Hmm, it just might work. And we’ll give the culprit an opportunity to make amends once we’ve identified the scammer.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” A rueful shake of his head along with an affectionate laugh. “That’s where it gets sticky. If the scammer doesn’t confess when confronted with the evidence, we’ll have no choice but to notify the authorities.”

Eloisa considered this. “Or we create such an atmosphere of love and acceptance, the wrongdoer is eager to unburden themselves and receive forgiveness for their misdeeds.”

“That’s your way, Auntie Eloisa. Leading with kindness and compassion,” Paul said. “Trouble is, not everyone is redeemable.”

She understood that truth far more intensely than Paul realized. Eloisa thought of the wealthy mega-church preacher her religious-zealous parents had forced her to marry when she was seventeen. She snapped her fingers and shut off the memories. Poof! Not letting that man live rent free in her head.

“Not everyone, no,” she said. “But many people, and I’d hazard to say most, are capable of change.”

“I’m here to do whatever you need.”

 Eloisa panned the landscape outside the window with a sweeping hand and giggled. “We’ll send out golden tickets to Jeanie and the three potential scammers. They can each bring two family members or friends with them so they will feel at ease. And Hobby Island shall be the stage where this mystery unravels.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Paul got to his feet.

Cradling Felena in her arms, she showed Paul to the door, wished him good day, and assumed her morning routine, but the startling news had thrown her off kilter. In the kitchen, she burned the scones, put too much sugar in her tea and when she picked up her knitting, discovered she’d dropped a stitch several rows back. 

“Fiddlesticks.” Frowning, Eloisa examined the dropped stitch, her mind still whirling with the unfolding online drama. 

She needed to get back on track. 

Eloisa got dressed, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and straightened her hat. Time to take her own advice. 

“Challenges are just opportunities in disguise,” she said to Felena who watched her from the middle of the patchwork quilt.

Outside on her unicycle, Eloisa took several deep, calming breaths, the scent of the sea mingling with the floral fragrances of the island. Today might have brought unexpected news, but it also brought a chance to right a wrong and protect her cherished community. 

And wasn’t that the purpose of Hobby Island? A place where challenges turned into triumphs and stitches, in fabric or in life, could be mended with tender loving care.

Resolutely, she pulled her knitting from her pocket, went to work on the dropped stitch and cycled on.