Scott stared at him. “I can’t believe you’re still defending her.”
“I’m not defending her.”
Scott cocked an eyebrow.
Okay, maybe I am defending her, but it’s not like she did it on purpose.
“You’re not giving it a fair hearing,” he said. “She was sick when she got out of the boat.”
Scott has a right to be angry too. Bailey washis friend.
“Listen,” Landon said. “I’m angry too, but she didn’t do it on purpose.”
Scott stared somewhere over Landon’s shoulder, his face taut. Landon wondered what was going on behind those eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. He’d only stirred up more trouble.
“Even if it was an accident,” Scott said, “she kept that from your family.” He leaned on the table, his elbows spreading the width of it. “Have you forgotten what it was like? The waiting? Your mom practically had a nervous breakdown.”
Those two days had seemed like a year. None of them slept, praying Bailey would miraculously appear, and they would all laugh about how crazy they’d been to think he drowned. And after his body was found, his parents fell apart, and Landon had nightmares about drowning for almost a year. He hadn’t stepped foot in the ocean since.
“I remember.” He wished he could forget.
“Sam knew all that time? She knew he was gone and she just—said nothing? She let your family wonder if Bailey was dead or alive?”
“She was an eighteen-year-old kid. She was afraid.”
Scott brought his fist down on the table, and the salt-and-pepper caddy jumped. “Stop making excuses for her, Landon. I know you think you have some insight to her soul that the rest of the world doesn’t have, but maybe it’s time to consider that you’re the one with the skewed vision of her.”
Landon gritted his teeth. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand her. All you think of when her name comes up is what she did to you in high school. There are things you don’t know.” Landon looked away.
Scott stood quickly, his chair grating against the floor. “Well, I know this. You’re not man enough to give her what she deserves.” He tossed money on the table. “But I am.”
Landon was on his feet before he could think. He grabbed the front of Scott’s shirt in his fists and pulled him close. A glass on the table clattered over. “Stay away from Sam, or you’ll deal with me.” Landon locked eyes with Scott. He could feel his blood pounding in his temples. So help him, if Scott laid one finger on Sam, he’d rip him to shreds.
Scott’s mouth slackened. He took on a look of nonchalance, an act Landon had seen him pull off before. “Maybe you’re right,
buddy
.” Scott pulled back, smoothed his shirt, and set his sunglasses in place. “Maybe the two of you are perfect for each other.”
As if for the first time, Landon saw Scott for who he was. A jealous accuser who’d done nothing but heap guilt on other people. Landon lowered his fists to his sides, his shoulders back. “She’s twice the person you’ll ever be.”
S
am woke to the low rumble of a mower’s engine. She imagined Miss Biddle’s nephew making stripes across the lawn and knew she had no business being in bed any longer. Beside her, Caden’s form lay still, her mouth relaxed in sleep.
Her daughter had ignored her since their argument, and Sam wondered when Caden had come to dislike her so much. Anger seemed to be her daughter’s reigning theme for the past couple of years. Now, Sam was forced to admit, Caden had cause to be mad. Sam hadn’t realized Caden hoped she and Landon would get together, but her daughter was too naïve to know that was impossible.
Sam slipped out of bed and went to start the coffee, realizing halfway there that she could walk without much pain. At least her ankle wouldn’t interfere with her job. She could show up for work Monday and start getting her life back to normal.
Is that what you want?
She shrugged off the thought. Normal might not be exciting, but it was safe.
She scooped coffee grinds into the filter, filled the tank with water, and plugged in the machine. She’d made a lot of headway with the house the last three days. The floor was completed, and the furniture was moved back into place. What remained was a list of small repairs: fixing the leaky kitchen sink, regrouting the bathroom tiles, defrosting the ancient freezer, and a host of other odds and ends. Few of which she had experience doing.
Sam knew how one small repair could end up taking half a day and hoped everything went smoothly. They would need to be on the ferry by early afternoon the next day to make the bus back to Boston in time for work Monday.
She poured a bowl of cereal, leaving enough milk for Caden, and sat down, waiting for the coffee to brew. The floor looked nice. It could use a couple more coats of polyurethane, but there was no time.
The sound of the mower’s engine escalated, and she realized she would need to mow before she left. And pack. And call Melanie to let her know the house was done. Melanie had filed the paperwork for the listing the week before, and it would go on the market in three days.
Sam had visited Miss Biddle the day before and arranged for her nephew to keep up the yard after they left. It would cost Sam money she didn’t have, but she knew it would pay off in the end.
Miss Biddle’s words flashed in her mind. “Well, honey, I’m sure Landon would keep after it. He does mine sometimes when I’m in a bind.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” she’d said loudly enough for the woman to hear. “And you said your nephew was looking to make extra money.”
“Sure, sure. He won’t mind.”
Sam thought she’d handled it very smoothly until Miss Biddle walked her to the door.
“You know, honey, I don’t mean to butt in, but being old gives one the privilege of speaking one’s mind, so I’m taking advantage of it.”
She took Sam’s hand in her warm, thick one. “A person would have to be blind not to see the way you push that boy away.”
Sam opened her mouth in defense.
Miss Biddle raised her hand, palm out. “I’m not criticizing. Just making an observation.” She squeezed Sam’s hand. “Now, nobody knows better than I about pushing folks away. I’ve done it all my life, so I want you to listen up, okay?”
Sam nodded reluctantly.
“I’ve lived right here in this house most of my life, and you might have noticed that there was never a mister.” Miss Biddle flattened her bronze-colored lips. “Not that I didn’t have a chance, mind you. I was quite pretty back in my guitar-playing days.”
Sam smiled, and the woman continued.
“But I was afraid. I had my reasons—we all do—and I scared away every last man I cared about.” She gestured around the house. “And here I am, all these years later, heart intact.
“But lonely. I’d trade all the hurts I may have had for one true love at my side.” Her eyes drooped at the corners, where creases spread like a fan. “I have no idea what’s gone on between you and that boy, but the two of you have got something special, always have. So I’m going to tell you what I would do if I could turn the clock back thirty years.” She leaned close and said with urgency, “Take the risk.”
Now, the words came back to Sam, whispered in the same forceful tone Miss Biddle had used the day before.
Take the risk.
It sounded so easy. Take the risk. She’d almost let the words settle on her heart like dew on fresh green grass. It was easy for Miss Biddle to say when she hadn’t a clue what Sam had done.
The coffee finished perking, and she poured herself a cup. The smell of the strong brew cut through her daydream and brought her to her senses. Work was the order of the day if she was going to get done before she left.
Sam finished her coffee, then showered and dressed. Landon’s tools were still on the front porch, so she retrieved them and set them on the kitchen floor. Later tonight, under cover of darkness, she would leave them on his porch.
Coward.
Maybe she was when it came to Landon, but he didn’t want to see her either.
She pulled the pliers from the box and opened the cabinet under the sink. The leak had left a water stain in the cabinet board, but it felt solid enough. She turned on the water and waited to see exactly where the leak was coming from. Once she pinpointed the spot, she turned off the water and applied the pliers to the metal drainpipe.
Sam squeezed the rubber grip and twisted, but it didn’t give. The old metal pipes were corroded. She worked at the fitting, straining and twisting, until sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Sam sat back on the rug, gritting her teeth. She wanted to bang the pipes with a sledgehammer, but she knew that wouldn’t do anything but soothe her temper.
You can do it, Sam. Just take your time.
She blew out a breath and picked up the pliers, leaning inside the cabinet, and wrapped the jaws around the connector. Squeezing hard with both hands, she pulled the handles. Nothing.
Sam tried again, but it didn’t budge. Her fingers ached by the time she sat up. It was hot in the house, and she already needed another shower. She walked to the window and jerked up the pane. The smell of freshly cut grass drifted through the screen.
Her gaze wandered out to the yard. Landon strode through her backyard, pushing his mower. His red baseball cap was pulled low, and his skin gleamed under the hot sun. He turned the mower and headed toward the house.
Sam pulled back from the window before he could see her. What was he doing mowing her yard? Helping her? The last time she’d seen him, his feelings were written clearly in his eyes.
But he was back. Warmth flowed through her at the slightest notion of hope.
Stop it, Sam! This isn’t what you want
. She closed her eyes, battling the feelings again, pushing them back to a place she could control them.
You just have this one last day. One day, Sam. You can do it. Youcan leave here with your heart intact if you just guard yourself today.
The sound of the mower grew faint as he headed down toward the shoreline. Hadn’t she told him to go away and not come back? Hadn’t she given him every reason to stay away? Why did he keep coming around? How could he, now that he knew what she had done?
Maybe he would leave after he finished mowing. It didn’t make sense, but then, his being here now didn’t make sense either.
The bedroom door opened, and Caden stopped on the threshold, holding a bundle of clothes. Without a word, she headed to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
Sam wandered back to the kitchen and sank to the floor to give the pipe another try. Landon’s presence captured her thoughts.
Without bidding, the memory of their kiss sprang to her mind and lingered there like the sweet fragrance of a rose. How was it he made her want more than other men did? Mere physical intimacy would never be enough for Landon. If she let it happen, he would fill her heart and soul until there was no border between them. They would intertwine like the threads of a heavy sailcloth, indivisible.
Nothing is ever indivisible, Sam. Things come apart, especially relationships.
Even a sailcloth, if pulled and ripped hard enough, will come apart.
And imagine the damage when it does.
But she didn’t have to imagine. She had been intertwined with her dad and mom. She knew what loss felt like.
Landon shifted the mower around a tree and continued on a straight path toward the water. After his conversation with Scott yesterday, he went home and paced. Then he went to bed and tossed, lying awake, his mind wandering two doors down.
He was still angry. What Sam had done was wrong; there was no defending her actions. But something else sank into his heart in the wee hours of the night. There was no denying his love for her. His father had always told Landon he loved him unconditionally. The fact gave Landon security. Sam had never been loved like that, and for the first time, he knew how his father felt.
Landon’s love for Sam was deep and unswaying. It didn’t matter what she did or if she hurt him. The roots of love went down to his very core. They could never be weeded out.
Once he realized that, panic set in. He had one day before she left the island. One full day to make Sam realize what she was giving up. He had wasted three days brooding about something that couldn’t be changed.
He pushed down on the mower’s handle, making a full turn and heading toward the house on his last strip of grass. A few feet away, Max plopped under the shade of a bush and rested his head on his paws.
He wondered if Sam knew he was there. Probably not. She would have tried to chase him away with a broomstick if she did. Well, he was going to be here for her whether she wanted him to or not. It was time she discovered what it was like to trust someone else.
When he reached the flower bed, he cut the mower’s engine, took off his hat, and dragged his hand across his forehead. He looked up through the screened porch to the back door. She was surely awake by now. Even Caden was probably up and helping with the repairs. Sam was probably stressed over the work still undone.
Not stressedenough to welcome you, Reed.