Song of the Surf (Pacific Shores Book 3) (8 page)

The boy only frowned. “What?”

Justus mussed his hair. “I just meant God was watching out for you. We just had a close call here. You know that, right?”

He nodded again.

The boy reminded her of someone. Who?

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

There was a beat before the kid said, “I’m homeschooled.”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ve learned not to go dashing out into roads without a little double checking next time?” Sternness coated Justus’s words.

“Sure. I guess.”

Dakota closed her eyes. The scent of burnt rubber clung like smoke in the air. Nightmare images of the coastal highway not too far from here on a windy night peppered her mind. The sound of screeching tires and crunching metal could no longer be held at bay. The acrid odor stirred memories of the same smell mixed with blood and loamy earth.

She forced her eyes open and her attention onto Justus’s broad shoulders where he still squatted in front of the child – a child who was healthy and whole and who would never understand how much pain and sorrow he could have caused for so many with his one careless moment of abandon.

“Good. Now…” Justus ruffled the boy’s red hair gently. “Which side of this road do you live on?”

The boy pointed in the direction he and his dog had been running.

Justus scanned the empty road. “Alright then, go on. And please be more careful.”

The boy ran off without another word.

Dakota met Justus’s gaze and sank against the hood of the Z3 in relief.

Justus clasped his hands behind his head and paced several steps back and forth, his feet crunching against some gravel on the pavement, his cheeks puffed out in a combination of terror and thankfulness all in one. Finally he stopped and sank down onto the hood next to her. “That was way too close for comfort.”

She nodded and eased a tremulous breath through pursed lips. “We should get out of the road. And I think the flowers are going to be a little worse for the wear.” Her hands quaked as she reached to brush a strand of wind-whipped hair from her eyes and when she stood to hop around to her door, her good leg gave out from under her.

“Dakota!” Justus dove for her and managed to break her fall, but not before they both ended up on the pavement.

And then she was crying. Great gulping sobs. And the memories that had been pushing for preeminence could no longer be staved off.

Justus’s arms came around her, just like her arms had wrapped around Jason that night.

Chapter 6

Marinville, OR 2007

…After a year of living in Marinville while Daddy itinerated and raised money from churches to support their family for another four years on the mission field, the time had come for them to return to Africa. Dakota had been beside herself with tumultuous emotions that couldn’t seem to decide where to settle. One moment she was thrilled to be returning to her friends at boarding school. The next moment she was grieving the loss of her friends in Marinville. One in particular. Jason Murton. Their flight, scheduled for the next day, took off at eight a.m. She wouldn’t see Jason for a whole year until she graduated and came back to the States.

Jason rang the bell at their door that night. And when she opened it she could tell by the sheen in his eyes, he was feeling some of the same loss she was.

“Hi.” She eased one shoulder onto the doorframe, leaving him on the stoop. He wore his leathers, his black Harley Davidson jacket broadening his shoulders. She worried the toe of her shoe through the fibers of their welcome mat, never taking her gaze off his face. “I’m glad you came.”

He tilted his head and so much emotion caressed the one word he spoke. “Dakota…”

She reached out and took his hand, calling over her shoulder, “Mom, I’ll be back in a couple hours, okay?” Without waiting for a reply she ran, pulling Jason after her down the walk.

He laughed. “Dakota, I’m here to help you pack remember? What are you doing?”

She stopped at his bike and sidled close to him, resting one hand on his chest. “Take me for a ride.”

He shook his head. “I only have one helmet. And you don’t have any protective gear.”

“Jason.” She tilted him a coy look and couldn’t avoid the way her gaze dropped to his lips. “This will be our last night together for a whole year. Take me for a ride. It’ll be okay. Just to Shady Shore. Just for a little bit. I’m almost done packing. We can finish when we get back.”

He bent and pressed his forehead to hers. “As much as I want to we shouldn’t. With only one helmet—”

Her lips separated the distance between them and settled on his. She felt his jolt of surprise that matched her own. Because while they’d come close to kissing a couple times, they’d never done so before. She pulled back, feeling the heat in her face. “Just to Shady Shore?” All she wanted was a few more intimate moments with him. Moments to cling to in the year ahead.

His gaze flitted to the road and back to her, and she knew he’d already relented. “Fine, but you have to wear the helmet. At least you’re in jeans. My dad is going to kill me if he catches word of this.”

She giggled. “I promise not to tell him.”

Pain flickered over his features at the reminder she wouldn’t be around for a long time to come. He settled the helmet over her head and adjusted the strap under her chin, then gave it a rap. “You good?”

She nodded.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” He swung a leg over his bike and waited for her to climb on.

She settled up close behind him and wrapped her arms around the warmth of his torso.

The motorbike roared to life, and he eased it out of the driveway.

Shady Shore was only a mile from her house. It should have been a short ride. Would have been if Jason hadn’t been going over the speed limit and tossing a smile at her over his shoulder. Would have been except for the guy in the white pickup who’d been hurrying to the beach to go surfing after a few drinks at the bar. The guy who had swung a left in front of them as they came around the corner at the entrance just before Shady Shore.

One minute she and Jason were laughing with the wind in their faces and life stretching out long and full before them, and the next…nothing but searing anguish and darkness.

The doctors told Dakota the helmet saved her life.

The man in the truck walked away with a few scratches.

Jason hadn’t been so lucky….

Justus swept Dakota up and strode to the side of the road. He settled her on her good leg and then wrapped his arms around her. Dakota shuddered and sniffled against his chest. Tightness constricted his breathing and his concern ramped up by the second. Had she been hurt? He didn’t think so. As close as they had come to hitting the kid, the worst jolt would have been when he first hit the brakes.

Maybe almost hitting the kid was what had terrified her so badly?

He leaned sideways, trying to see her face, which was still buried against his chest. “Dakota? It’s okay. We’re all safe. The kid’s safe. You’re safe. I’m safe.” He rubbed one hand over her back. “Everything’s okay.” The top of her head fit perfectly beneath his chin, and the vanilla and floral scent she always wore taunted him with its nearness. He swallowed and chastised himself for noticing how good she smelled when she was obviously only in need of a friend with a listening ear.

Another shudder coursed through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

She said the words like she was pulling herself together, but she remained tucked in close to him, one hand fisted up near her mouth, her cast curled behind him.

His Z3 still idled in the middle of the road. He glanced down the street behind them and he was glad they were in a quiet residential neighborhood. No traffic being delayed because of them, so far.

“Your crying isn’t about this incident, is it?”

It took a moment, but eventually she shook her head against his chest.

“Want to tell me about it?”

She sniffed. Remained quiet. And just when he was about to give up and suggest they get back in the car, she spoke. “I was in a wreck in high school. A friend died. It was my fault.”

His eyes dropped closed and he held her a little tighter.

“We were on a m-motorbike. He only had one helmet, but I’d talked him into one last ride before I was supposed to leave for Africa the next day.” The story tumbled from her, nightmarish detail after detail. Days in the hospital. How the man in the truck had walked away. How she’d learned about the death of her friend. Felt responsible.

He scooped one hand back through silky blonde strands and cupped her head gently as he rested one cheek against her hair. He couldn’t help himself. He wanted to absorb all the pain she was feeling and take it on himself. “I’m sorry you went through something like that, so young.”

Other than loosing a feathery sigh, she made no reply.

“The guy in the truck – was he drunk?”

“Not legally.”

“Did he get convicted?”

She shook her head beneath his cheek. “His blood alcohol level was under legal. Jason was driving a few miles over the speed limit, and the guy in the truck was turning into the entrance to the park right as we came around the corner. They ruled it an accident.”

“Who was the guy in the truck?”

She shook her head again. “I don’t know. I was only awake for a short time at the scene before I fell unconscious and didn’t revive till I was in the hospital. And no one ever mentioned to me who he was. We left for Africa two weeks later, right after Jason’s funeral. I didn’t ask. I’ve come really close to looking it up a few times. Or asking Jason’s grandmother. But then I think… He must feel almost as terrible about the whole thing as I do, you know? Do I want to find out who he is? And then what? Would I go talk to him? Tell him I’m sorry that the accident was my fault? Or would I just not say anything to him but every time I saw him I’d remember… And what good would that do? I don’t know. I’ve just decided up till now that it’s better I don’t know who it was.”

“Jason’s grandmother is in town?”

She dipped her chin. “Mrs. Murton.”

“The lady from the hospital?”

“Yes. His parents moved away after… I’m not sure how long, but by the time I’d graduated and returned a year later, they had moved. But Mrs. Murton stayed. She’s Jason’s father’s mother.”

“Have you ever talked to her?”

Dakota shuddered. “Not about the accident. Someday I’ll have to tell her it was my fault. But…I haven’t gotten up the courage to do that yet.”

Justus eased back from her and took her face in his hands. “Dakota, you were a kid. You made a mistake. But you can’t live the rest of your life blaming yourself for Jason’s death.”

Big tears filled her eyes. “But it
was
my fault. He didn’t want to go. Said he only had one helmet. That his father would be really angry if he found out he or his passenger had ridden without one. Then he insisted that I wear the helmet. So it is my fault.”

He shook his head, willing her to believe him. “Did you force him to drive over the speed limit?”

She tucked one lip between her teeth. “No. But he was a daredevil. He always did that and I knew it.”

The word “daredevil” hit him like a punch to the stomach and took him back to the first night he’d met Dakota and overheard her talking to herself. She’d called him an irresponsible daredevil. And that had been right after she’d reamed Reece out because she’d seen his motorbike in the drive and thought Reece had bought it.

He’d wondered at the time why she’d pegged him in such a negative light and with such hasty judgment. Now he understood.

Everything inside him went soft. She’d been carrying a big burden for a lot of years for one so young. “Neither did you make the guy in the truck turn at that exact moment. Nor did you place the entrance to that beach just around a corner. It was an accident.”

She reached up and touched his face, sending a ping of awareness through him that he knew wasn’t mutual. He forced himself to hold steady.

“Thank you for being such a caring friend.” She smiled through her tears.

He suppressed a growl, knowing that she hadn’t taken his admonishment to heart. A world of anguish still inhabited her expression. With his thumbs he gently swiped the tears from beneath her lashes, wishing he could infuse her with the truth and also wishing he had the right to kiss away her concerns.

He searched her face. Studied the tendrils of hair that caressed her still bruised and stitched temple. The dusting of tiny freckles scattered over her nose that were only visible because he was so close. Her full, slightly parted lips.

The emotions etching her face changed subtly, and her eyes widened a little. She bit her lip and eased back a step. “We should probably check on the flowers. I’m worried they might be a little banged up. And at the church they are probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

He took a breath to dispel the lingering desire to kiss her, then slung her arm around his shoulders and helped her hop back to the car.

A quick check showed that the bouquets in the trunk had fared better than expected. All but the one which had apparently picked a fight with his tire iron and lost. The bouquet was smashed in one section.