Twice in a Lifetime (20 page)

They reached the beach, and Lindsay ran ahead to Matt. “I’m having an island-girl party this year,” she said. “It’s okay to like different kinds of parties.”

Matt’s gaze caught hers and held warmly for a moment.

Then he turned back to his daughter.

“That’s exactly right, Lindsay. It’s just fine.”

“What’s not to like about any kind of party?” Georgia’s cousin Win threw an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet in a hug. “Hey, G, how come you haven’t been out here helping with the work?”

“Put me down, you idiot.” Georgia swatted at him. “Matt, Lindsay, this is my cousin Win Bodine. Win’s a rescue swimmer, so he has to show off how strong he is.”

Lindsay looked up at him solemnly. “Is your name really Win?”

He bent to shake her hand. “It’s really Winthrop Richmond Bodine, but that’s too big a mouthful, sugar, so you just call me Win.”

Lindsay responded to the honey in Win’s voice like women of every age seemed to, the corners of her lips curling up. “What’s a rescue swimmer?”

Win, bless him, showed no sign of impatience with her questions. “That’s just my job, darlin’.”

“He jumps out of helicopters instead of piloting a cutter like any self-respecting Bodine ought to,” Adam put in. He

gave Win a cousinly shove. “Go say hi to Matt and let me talk to the birthday girl for a minute.”

Georgia kept a watchful eye on Win as he approached Matt, but he seemed to be on his best behavior. Adam led Lindsay off to help him find some driftwood. Daddy, on his way toward her, paused to wave at folks coming down the path from the cottage. The beach party had begun— for better or worse.

Chapter Fourteen

M
att leaned back on his elbows, watching the fire as it burned lower. The party was slowly winding down. The sun had slid from sight, painting the fair-weather clouds on the horizon in shades that began as iridescent pink and faded to pale lilac and deep purple.

Across from him, Win Bodine reached forward to throw another piece of driftwood on the fire, sending sparks showering upward. Maybe he, too, hated to see this perfect evening come to an end.

The families with young children had been the first to go, trudging toward the road or down the beach with protesting youngsters in tow. But by then, he’d had the satisfying sense that Lindsay now had friends and acceptance here.

Thanks to the Bodines. Whether intentional or not, he and Lindsay were now associated with the Bodine family in people’s minds.

A faint unease touched him. That could blow up in his face, depending on how things worked out with Miz Callie’s plan.

Another shower of sparks flew up, casting light on those

who surrounded the fire. Lindsay was curled on a blanket next to Miz Callie, and it looked as if the older woman was telling her a story. Across from him, Georgia’s father was deep in conversation with her uncle Brett, while Adam and Win threw in an occasional comment. He didn’t have the Bodine family tree worked out yet, but he thought Win was the son of Harrison, the brother he had yet to meet.

Amanda was telling some anecdote, complete with extravagant gestures, to her mother, her aunt and another young woman who’d been introduced as Amanda’s twin. Georgia worked her way around the fire, offering coffee. He probably should make a move toward home, but no one seemed in any hurry. Lindsay was content, so he lingered,

enjoying watching the Bodines in their natural habitat.

From what he’d observed, Bodines, especially the males, came in a couple of distinct types. Georgia’s father, for instance, was deliberate, calm, slow to speak and probably slow to anger as well. Adam was like him in temperament, listening with a wry smile to something his impassioned cousin was telling him.

Win was another kettle of fish altogether. Volatile, quick, probably daring or even reckless—the type who’d flare up in an instant. Georgia’s uncle had shown him that side as well in their private encounter.

“Coffee?” Georgia leaned over him, coffee pot poised. “I couldn’t put another thing in my stomach.” He patted

the blanket beside him. “Can’t you sit down and relax?” “I can.” She sank bonelessly into a cross-legged seat,

her gaze moving from face to face. “I love this part of the evening. I used to be curled up on the blanket next to Miz Callie like Lindsay is.” She smiled. “The voices were like sweet music, lulling me to sleep.”

He could almost imagine a childhood like that. “I don’t know how to thank you for doing this—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Miz Callie loved every minute of it. As for the rest of them—well, they love any excuse for a beach party, and giving Lindsay a happy birthday was a good one.”

A soft outburst of laughter came from the women across the fire, and Win leaned forward, saying something that brought another ripple of laughter.

Georgia leaned closer to him. “What are you thinking about? You’ve been watching my kinfolk the way Miz Callie watches the turtles. Learning about a different species?”

“Something like that. I’m intrigued by how the Bodines seem to fall into two distinct personality types. Makes you believe in the power of genetics.”

Georgia laughed. “You’ve exposed the Bodine family secret, though I wonder sometimes if it’s not a case of living up to expectations. Adam—”

“Calm, fair, evenhanded,” he put in.

“Like my daddy, and his daddy before him. And Win is just like Uncle Brett.”

“Quick-tempered?”

She nodded. “But good-hearted and generous to a fault.” “What about your brother Cole? Is he the quick—

tempered one of your family?”

She glanced away from him. “You could say that,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Georgia?” He touched her hand, smoothing his fingers over hers. “Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head, managing a low laugh that didn’t sound very amused. “Sorry. It’s silly. Your comment about Cole just reminded me of something.”

He shouldn’t pry, but instinct stronger than common sense drove him. “Tell me.” They were very close, their voices so soft they were in a small world of their own.

Her breath came out in a sigh. “It was stupid. Not my proudest moment, believe me.”

Where was this leading? Whatever it was, it obviously hurt more than she wanted to show.

“I can’t believe you did anything that stupid.” It was something to do with her brother, obviously. “Cole lost his temper with you?”

“Not with me,” she said quickly. She shook her head. “I’m making this sound worse than it is. It’s just— nothing really.”

He waited. She wanted, or needed, to say this tonight.

He could feel the pressure inside her.

“Cole was at the Citadel then. I was a senior in high school. He brought his roommate home for the weekend, and we entertained him with a crab boil on the beach.”

Her hand twisted a little in his—the only outward sign of her inward perturbation. “He acted—well, interested in me. I was flattered. None of Cole’s friends had ever seen me as anything other than a little sister.”

Now he thought he saw where this was going. “Anyway, to make a long story short, he got carried

away, and I didn’t know how to handle it. That was the stupid part. Any other girl my age probably could have cut the thing short before it escalated….”

She stopped, her breath catching. He felt a totally irrational urge to find that unknown jerk and show him what you learned growing up on the streets of Boston.

“I take it Cole flew to your defense.” He made an effort to keep his voice calm. It wouldn’t do her any good if he overreacted to a ten-year-old trauma.

She nodded. “They had to pull him off the boy. He got into trouble at school as well, since that’s not the kind of behavior the Citadel expects from its cadets.” She tried to smile and failed. “All because I didn’t know how to handle—”

“Don’t.” He couldn’t help it—he had to touch her lips to stop her. Aware of her parents across the fire, he took his hand away quickly. “It wasn’t your fault. And if Cole was here, I’d shake his hand right now.”

That earned a shaky smile from her. “The last thing he needs is encouragement. Daddy rarely gets angry, but that time was the exception. And Mamma pointed out that if I’d shown a bit of maturity, it never would have happened.” The depth of empathy he felt for her shocked him. It probably wasn’t a good idea to say what he thought of her

mother’s response. “Georgia—”

“Daddy!” Lindsay’s voice was almost a wail. “I can’t find my new stuffed turtle that Georgia gave me.”

“It’s right here, sugar.” Georgia was on her feet even faster than he was. “I put it in this shopping bag so it’d be easier to carry home.”

Lindsay nuzzled the toy sleepily. “I want him to go to bed with me tonight.”

“Sure you do. And we should be heading in that direction already.” He stood and went to her.

“But I don’t want to go home. I don’t want my beautiful party to be over.” Her voice hinted at tears not far away.

He heard a murmur of empathy and a soft “Bless her heart” from someone.

“Nobody ever wants a beautiful day to end,” Miz Callie said quietly but with a firm note in her voice that he suspected most eight-year-olds would heed. “But the stars are in their places, and all the little beach creatures are in their sandy beds. It’s time you were as well.”

“I want Georgia to walk us home.” Lindsay grabbed Georgia’s hand. “Please.”

“Sure thing.” She picked up one of the gift bags. “I’ll help you carry all your loot home, birthday girl.”

He bent over Miz Callie. “Thank you isn’t enough.” He kissed her cheek.

“It’s more than enough,” she said. “Bless you, dear.”

He’d better go before he showed how much that meant to him. He picked up the rest of their belongings, and they started off down the beach to a chorus of good-nights.

Georgia, holding Lindsay’s hand, was jollying her along, averting a meltdown better than he would have. That gave him a few minutes to digest what Georgia had told him. The incident had hurt her, and she’d been made to feel it was her fault. Oh, probably no one had intended that. He was even willing to give her mother the benefit of the doubt now that his temper had cooled a bit.

But they had handled it wrong, and Georgia had been the loser. The fact that the story had bubbled to the surface after all this time showed that she hadn’t really resolved it.

His hands clenched again at the thought of that testosterone-laden teenager. Hopefully Cole had landed a few good punches before they’d pulled him off.

That did no good, he reminded himself. He should have said—well, he didn’t know what he should have said, but he knew he couldn’t leave it alone yet.

They’d reached the house, and he pulled out the key to unlock the door.

“I’ll help you get things inside, and then I’ll be off,” Georgia said.

“Wait a minute, please.” He touched Lindsay’s shoulder. “You go on and slip into your pajamas, Lindsay. I need to tell Georgia something.”

Lindsay was too sleepy to argue. Clutching the stuffed turtle, she headed for her room.

His hand on the curve of Georgia’s back, he led her to the deck. Her face was a smooth, ivory oval in the moonlight.

“What is it?”

“Just something I didn’t have the wit to say earlier. You were putting yourself down for not being able to handle a guy who was older, bigger, stronger and probably very determined. That’s nonsense.”

“If it had been Amanda, she’d have let him know—”

He put his fingers on her lips to stop her. This time her parents weren’t sitting across from them. This time he didn’t take them away.

“Don’t. Don’t compare yourself to your cousin. I’m sure she’s a very admirable person—”

Her lips curved in a smile against his fingers. “She is.” “But she’s not you.” His fingers moved from her lips, caressing her cheek. “Don’t you know how valuable you are? You’re warmhearted, loving, filled with integrity.

That’s Georgia, no one else.”

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, as if with tears. “That’s the kind of thing Miz Callie would say. She always says that God created each one of us unique.”

“Your grandmother is a wise woman.” His heart seemed to be yearning toward the faith he’d once felt was so strong. “I can’t pretend to be as wise as she is, but I try to believe that God has a purpose for who we are and a role we’re meant to fill.”

His own words startled him. How often had he stopped to ask if he was filling the role God had for him?

“So God needs an Amanda for one destiny, and he gives her the gifts she needs to fulfill that.” She seemed to be turning it over in her mind.

“And He’s created you for a role only you can fill.”

“I just have to find it.” She was taking his words seriously, and that moved him.

“Yes.” He wanted to say more, but his feelings were too near the surface.

“Thank you, Matt.” She spoke softly, her voice a murmur on the breeze. “I’m glad we talked.”

“I am, too.”

She’d told him something he suspected she’d told very few other people. He was honored—and scared. They were dangerously close in the moonlight, and his hand cradled the smooth, soft line of her cheek.