Barefoot Summer (10 page)

News about Jade’s sudden departure had spread through town. “Afraid not.”

“We prayed for her this morning, and we’ll keep right on. Praying for you too, dear. How are those swimming lessons going?”

“How’d you know about that?” Apparently the rumor mill reached far and wide.

“We have our ways.”

“More important, how is that handsome O’Reilly boy?” Mrs. Geiger wiggled her drawn-on brows. “He has the looks of his grandfather, remember, girls?”

Three heads bobbed.

“That’s to say he’s quite the dish,” Mrs. Stuckey said.

Mrs. Etter gave the pup a final kiss and handed him to Mrs. Marquart, who passed him to Mrs. Stuckey, arms fully outstretched.

“He won’t bite.” Mrs. Stuckey cuddled the dog. “Will you, precious? Oh, you’re a wiggly little thing.”

“I should wash my hands.” Mrs. Marquart popped to her feet and scooted off with her walker.

“You’d better take him,” Mrs. Stuckey said, even as the puppy squirmed from her lap and landed on the floor.

Madison hooked the leash on his collar. “I think he wants to walk. I’ll just make my rounds now and let you ladies get back to your knitting.”

“Will you bring him by again before you leave?” Mrs. Etter asked.

Madison agreed and headed down the hall. She stopped in to
see one of her favorite residents, whose family lived in Georgia. The old man perked up when he saw he had company. He was in a talkative mood, so she stayed awhile. Afterward she visited a few other residents with out-of-town family. She wished she had time to spend with all of the residents. Some of them were so lonely.

She stopped in the hall to let the passersby pet the pup. It brought her joy to see their faces light with a smile, and the hound was enjoying every moment too, his nose working almost as fast as his little legs.

Her last stop was Mr. O’Reilly. She walked down the hall, pulling up short when she spied Beckett leaving his grandpa’s room.

As he closed the door behind him, she pulled on the leash and hugged the wall, going still. It was silly to hide, but she wasn’t up to seeing Beckett tonight. Not after their argument at the creek over Jade. It had been eating at her since Saturday.

When he headed toward the exit, she breathed a sigh. She waited until he rounded the corner before she knocked and entered the room.

“Hello, Mr. O’Reilly.”

He was propped up in bed. His sparse white hair sported comb marks, and his gnarly hands opened and closed in his lap. The room smelled like antiseptic and Old Spice.

The lines on his forehead deepened. “Who was that?”

“Who just left? That was your grandson.”

He narrowed his rheumy eyes. “He’s a liar!”

Madison tugged the dog away from the metal wastebasket. “That was Beckett, Mr. O’Reilly. You remember him. He’s your—”

His blue eyes sparked. “He’s a liar!”

She scooped the hound into her arms. “Look who I brought with me today. He’s a basset hound. You used to have one. Do you remember Bosco?”

His hands still worked, and his eyes seemed stuck on the door.

She stepped closer, between him and the doorway. “Look, Mr. O’Reilly. I brought you a friend.”

His eyes finally shifted to the pup, and his face immediately softened, the furrowed brows on his forehead smoothing.

When he reached out, she settled the dog in his lap. The hound sniffed the blanket, licked Mr. O’Reilly’s hand, and curled into a furry ball.

Beckett had been on Madison’s mind all day. Hiding in the nursing home hall had been a wake-up call. She regretted leaving things the way she had. Yes, she wished he’d tell her about Jade, but he was doing her a favor, and she’d behaved poorly.

She slowed her pace as she approached the marina, reining in Lulu, whose pink tongue flopped like a loose shoestring. Madison stopped at a puddle to let the dog rehydrate. The sun slipped behind the clouds, offering a brief reprieve, and a breeze came across the river, ruffling her low ponytail.

After catching her breath, she found Beckett on the gas dock filling the tank of a boat. Its owners, the Tacketts, milled around farther down the dock, checking out the other boats.

She gripped the leash tight, giving Lulu little leeway. As she waited for Beckett to finish, she noted the wooden boat he was gassing up. A fishing boat built for two, it had sleek curves, a caramel finish, and silver trim. She’d never seen a boat like it,
and remembering the scaly eyesore in her driveway, she knew a moment of boat envy.

She waited until he capped the tank before she spoke. “She’s a beauty.”

If he was surprised to see her, he gave no indication. “Hey.” He replaced the pump, wiped his hands on a rag hanging from his pocket.

“It’s almost like artwork.”

He looked at the boat. “It’s custom made.”

Lulu strained at her leash, her paws on the edge of the deck, sniffing the fishy air. Her ears perked at the sound of a nearby splash.

“Well, I don’t mean to bother you. I know you’re busy.”

He wiped a few drops of gas from the deck, petted Lulu, and stood. “What can I do for you?”

She looked across the water at the green hills rising from the river and realized being here didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Thanks to Beckett.

“I feel bad about the way we left things Saturday.”

He pocketed the rag, not looking away. He had a way of studying her that made her feel naked. She crossed her arms as best she could with the leash.

“Me too.” The wind fluttered his hair, carrying the faint smell of gasoline and that warm, spicy smell that was all Beckett.

“Truce?” she asked.

He seemed to weigh her words before he extended his hand.

She reached for it, and his grip enveloped hers, his eyes not releasing her.

“I do appreciate your help. With the swimming thing.”

He nodded once, letting go.

“All right then.” She backed away, tugging Lulu with her. “I’ll let you get back to work. See you Saturday.”

As she walked away, she took note of the thumping of her heart, the dryness in her throat, the impression of his warm palm against hers.
Just a little while longer, Madison. And you can go back to your safe little world.

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
ER NEW TRUCE WITH
B
ECKETT WAS WORKING; THEY HADN
’
T
argued again. But their newfound peace brought other problems. When she wasn’t busy feeling indignant, Madison noticed things. Things like his charcoal eyes, his stubbly jaw, his sculpted muscles.

By mid-July she was able to tread water, and Beckett declared her ready to begin sailing lessons. She celebrated the fact that she didn’t have to face the water anymore—or a shirtless Beckett. She had her first two sailing lessons with Evan, squeezing them in on a couple of evenings. She’d been thrilled to step onto the sloop without the panic that had assaulted her the first time. The few nerves she’d felt had disappeared by the time Evan hoisted the sails.

With no word still from Jade, she found herself envious of her parents, who seemed able to pray and let it go. She thought of the nursing home ladies and their promise to pray for Jade. The thought comforted her, though she couldn’t say why. Her parents had prayed for each of her siblings daily, but what good had it done Michael?

She was between appointments one afternoon, catching up on paperwork, when her eyes began to droop. She looked in her drawer and found her coffee bean bag empty.

She leaned against the chair. She’d close her eyes for a few minutes. She had twenty minutes before her next appointment. A catnap would get her through the rest of the afternoon.

“Dr. McKinley.”

Madison bolted upright from the desk. Her blurry eyes strained to focus on the doorway.

Dr. Richards frowned at her. “Your three o’clock has been waiting fifteen minutes.”

She scuttled to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I fell asleep.”

He pursed his lips. “We’ll talk about this later.”

The afternoon hours dragged as Madison went through her appointments. She’d blown it twice in a matter of weeks. Two weeks ago Dr. Richards had arrived to find the back door unlocked. Madison had been the last to leave the night before.

He wasn’t one to tolerate incompetence. What was she saying? Madison wasn’t one to tolerate it either. What was happening to her?

Rather than waiting for him to confront her, she knocked on his door after her last appointment. He invited her in.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon. I only meant to rest my eyes, and next thing I knew—”

“Sit down, Dr. McKinley.”

Not good. Not good at all. Madison took a seat in the high-back chair in the corner.

“You’re a wonderful vet, Madison. And normally, you’re thoroughly capable. But lately you’re forgetful and unfocused. You forgot you’d promised to cover for me, you’re falling asleep in your office and forgetting to lock up. You’ve made several billing errors lately and, if you’ll forgive the personal observation, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’ve . . . had a bit of trouble sleeping.”

“It’s affecting your work.”

She couldn’t deny it. “I’ll do better, Dr. Richards.”

“I’m not one to dole out personal advice at the office, but you might consider seeing a doctor.”

“Of course. I appreciate your patience. And I’ll be more careful.”

“See that you are.” He softened the words with a fatherly smile.

Madison took that as her cue to leave and stood. “Thank you.”

She went to her office and closed her door, waiting for her heart to settle. That was no fun. She’d felt like a kid in the principal’s office, something she was unaccustomed to.

She was grabbing her purse, ready to put the awful day behind her, when Cassidy poked her head into the office.

“Please don’t say no . . . ,” Cassidy said.

“No.”

Cassidy sighed, entering. “You’re so contrary. What if I was about to offer you a million dollars?”

“I’d say you need a pay cut.”

“It’s just a coffee date. Dr. Drew really wants to meet you, and Stewie and I’ll be there, so buh-bye first-date awkwardness. Plus, you can stock up on coffee beans while you’re there.”

Madison set her stethoscope on her desk and shrugged from her lab coat. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the holdup? He’s a doctor, he’s handsome . . . he’s a doctor . . .” Cassidy brushed her hair off her shoulder. Today it lay in obedient curls, framing her friend’s face.

“Your hair looks nice.”

“Don’t change the— Really?” Cassidy turned to the small antique mirror behind her, peering into the speckled glass. “I bought a new curling iron, it has ions or something. But never mind that. Say yes. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Truth was, Madison didn’t know what was holding her back.

Yes, you do, Madison.
He was about six-one, with strapping shoulders and smoldering eyes. She had to stop thinking about Beckett. Clearly he wasn’t interested in her. He wasn’t the one asking her out, was he?

She sighed hard enough to move papers on her desk. “Fine.”

Cassidy whooped. “Super! Okay, I have to run. See you in the morning . . . and tomorrow night!” She left the office, calling down the hall, “You won’t regret it!”

“I already do,” Madison called back.

Coachlight Coffeehouse was located in a remodeled Victorian. Originally built in 1907, the brick structure crouched on the corner of Main and Maple, its wide porch and bold columns an open invitation to enter. A gathering place for locals and tourists alike, it featured excellent brews, tasty pastries, and turn-of-the-century ambience.

Beckett, however, came only for the coffee, a dark-roasted Colombian that made Dewitt’s coffee-machine brew seem like motor oil. After a busy summer day like today, he was ready for a tall glass of iced coffee as he climbed the wide concrete steps.

His plans for the evening were refreshingly simple. Grab a cup of joe and head for his rock tower. Accessed by a trail behind Riverside Park and a long uphill climb, the rock tower offered an inspiring view of the valley. It was Beckett’s favorite spot to escape humanity and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation.