She applied a hint of beeswax, which reflected light onto her dark circles and minimized their appearance before she lightened them with rice powder. Cherry juice mixed with beeswax put some color on her lips. Satisfied with her efforts, she couldn’t wait another moment to change into her gown.
Knee-length cotton drawers went on first, followed by a shift and corset that laced in the front. She tied on the bumpad. It was essentially little more than a pillow that added width to her backside and hips. Next, she donned the under petticoat, another petticoat, stockings, and garters. Delicate boots encased her feet. Finally, she unzipped the garment bag that they had laid out for her to unveil a green gown.
The bodice fit like a second skin. The skirt flared out, making her waist look smaller. She had just pinned her hair into a style more befitting the times when a knock sounded on the door. Someone called, “Hey! I’m Ivy from the wardrobe department. May I come in?”
Her eyes widened. She’d forgotten she was supposed to wait for the wardrobe assistant. Opening the door, Ava offered a smile. That didn’t stop Ivy’s eyebrows from lifting. “You’re already dressed. How? Are you sure you put the layers on in the right order?”
“I think so.” Ava recited the order for her.
The redheaded girl blinked in surprise. “Well, I guess you’re done then. You can— Wow. Even your hair is correct. Um. You can meet Miriam in the lobby.”
“Wonderful! Thank you.” With a parting smile, she grabbed her satchel and hurried to the lobby.
Miriam glanced up from the clipboard she was holding. “You look great, Ava. I need you to initial and sign these papers saying I received your luggage. The captain will meet you on the ship. He’ll show you to your cabin where you’ll find the luggage we’ve provided. You’ll also find a note there containing background information about the 1680s version of yourself.”
“Sounds great!” Ava read over the form, initialed the appropriate lines, then signed her autograph at the bottom. “Is that everything?”
Miriam nodded. “That should be it. Thank you. Now, walk out the doors at the end of the hall, follow the sidewalk, and take the gangplank onto the ship. Have a wonderful journey!”
“Thank you! I’m sure I will.”
A few moments later, Ava down the gangplank toward the ship with her leather satchel in tow. Ted filmed her every step. His camera was a visible reminder that her parents, America, and the world would be watching her every move for the next forty days. Interviews and beauty pageants were one thing. This was something else entirely.
There were no prepared statements. No talking points. Nothing but Ava—unrehearsed, unprepared, unhindered. Not unedited, though.
Living History would have the final say on how she came across to the world, which could be as much of a liability as it was an asset. One wrong move could cause a major hurdle for her father’s presidential bid. At the very least, it could become a distraction or take him off message.
No wonder her mother had been nervous. Why on earth had her parents allowed her to do this if they’d been so certain he would actually enter the race? Maybe because Ava had insisted on it. And, she hardly ever insisted on anything. Yet, how could she not when this was the chance of a lifetime?
For all intents and purposes, she was going back in time, experiencing one of the many eras that had fascinated her since she’d read her first history book as a child. Beyond that, it was a desperately needed escape. It was a way to separate herself from the last few months filled with challenges, threats, and stress.
She pulled in a deep breath. It was time to leave it all behind. Step into the past. And above all, ‘behave circumspectly.’
Ava could do that. She always did. Pushing aside the trepidation that was trying to take hold of her, she gave the camera a quick wink. “1680, here I come!”
Chapter Two
“I love you, Emily, I’m just not in love with you.”
Ian Sinclair winced at the sound of his heartless words as they seemed to echo across his empty backyard. No way could he say that to his best friend. Even if the words were true. Even if they desperately needed to be said.
He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto a rustic wooden patio chair, then stretched his arms and shoulders. He should probably skip the “I love you” part. Those words were what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. “Emily, you’ve always been like a sister to me…”
Right. That’s exactly what his girlfriend would want to hear after four months of dating. He shook his head. “Lord, help me. It keeps sounding worse and worse.”
What was the point in practicing, anyway? It wasn’t as if the breakup would happen any time in the foreseeable future—especially not today. It was Emily’s birthday. One she’d come way too close to never reaching.
She’d nearly died four months ago when a truck plowed into her compact car. The accident had occurred only thirty feet from where Ian had been standing, feeling shell-shocked and confused after she’d kissed him for the first time. He’d raced into the street to find her bloody and broken.
Trapped in a twisted cage of metal, she’d panicked upon realizing she could no longer feel her legs. He’d been desperate to keep her calm and to keep her conscious. That’s when he said those three little words. She’d said them back. Later, he’d realized her “I love you” had actually meant “I’m in love with you.”
His hadn’t, but he couldn’t find it within himself to tell her the truth then. Her world had been too dark, too full of tragedy and fear. It would have been cruel. And now?
After months filled with her tears, doctor’s appointments, and physical therapy; it seemed impossible. He was her boyfriend. And a liar.
“Pretender” was too nice of a word for it.
He hated misleading her. He had to find a way to be honest with her without causing her further pain. She’d been through enough already. He wouldn’t add to it. If only he could figure out how to…
He let out a frustrated groan and shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the rectangular saltwater pool. He held a tight streamline position as the water rushed past his ears. The sound cut him free from the tension and turmoil that had so often defined his world outside the pool. Here, as always, he found consistency, rhythm, a semblance of peace.
He picked up his pace after a few laps, but didn’t worry about trying to beat his best time. Today’s swim wasn’t about speed. It was about finding an escape. Yet, even as his tension eased, he knew the tranquility wouldn’t last long. He was expected at the Holdens along with more than fifty of their closest friends and family. He’d have to convince all of them that he was totally in love with Emily.
He braced his hands on the colorful Spanish tile lining the pool and began to pull himself out of the pool. Freezing at the sight of the leggy blonde lounging on one of his patio chairs, he dropped back into the water. “Candi, what are you doing here? How are you here? In my backyard?”
She rolled her big blue eyes. “I walked through the back gate like any normal person would after you refused to answer the door or the phone.”
He grimaced. “Sorry. My phone is charging inside, and I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“Obviously.” She lifted one dark blond eyebrow. “You do realize you are fifteen minutes late for hair and makeup? We’ve been filming for hours and the party is about to start without you.”
“Oh, man.” His stomach sank. Emily would not be happy with him for showing up late. “I can’t believe I lost track of time like that.”
She winked. “Well, you’re welcome for the reminder.”
“Thank you,” he said with an amused smile. Surging out the pool onto the deck, he pretended not to see the way her gaze washed over him. Uncomfortable. There was no other word for it.
They’d met when the Adventure Channel bought Treasure Hunters—a reality show about the Holden family’s marine salvage company where Ian worked as one of the main d
ivers and researchers. Two dates in, he and Candi had agreed a relationship between them would be too messy. She lived in Los Angeles most of the year, only coming down to Corpus Christi for special promotions or special episodes like today’s season finale. More important, Ian had dedicated his life to Christ, so their expectations about relationships hadn’t exactly lined up.
He caught the towel she threw to him. “I need to take a shower. Should I meet you at the Holdens?”
“Deborah wants you to be camera-ready when you arrive.” There was no arguing with the director and they both knew it, so Candi motioned him toward the house. “Go shower and dress. I’ll wait here. I have some emails to catch up on, anyway.”
“Ok. I’ll make it quick. If you need to get out of the heat, you’re welcome to wait in the house. There are cold beverages in the refrigerator.”
She waved off his concern. “Thanks, but it isn’t so bad in the shade. Hey, wear something blue. Emily is in yellow. You need to complement each other.”
“Will do.” After a quick shower, he put on a blue dress shirt, khaki pants, and brown shoes, then met up with Candi in the breakfast room. “Too hot outside?”
“Not for me, but I didn’t want you sweating off the makeup. Sit, please.” Classical music blared from her phone as she worked on his makeup. “So, Ian, you’d let production know if you were planning anything special for Emily’s birthday, right?”
He sighed. He definitely should have planned something special for Emily’s birthday. He’d been so caught up in covering for her absence at work and helping with her recovery that he’d let time slip away. Besides, he’d assumed that the party her parents were throwing would demand enough of her strength without him adding more to the day. He should have talked to her about this, though, and asked her what she wanted. For all he knew, she might be expecting him to do something big.
“Ian?”
He shrugged and admitted, “I don’t have anything planned.”
She ran the powder brush over his face, forcing him to close his eyes. “But, you’d tell us if something important was about to happen?”
His frowned. “What are you fishing for?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes, I’d tell y’all.” Having the cameras around made this whole thing with Emily easier somehow. Less intimate. He met her gaze. “Why do you ask?”
“Deborah wanted to know.” She handed him a stick of clear lip balm. “Not too much of this, OK? We don’t want you to look like you’re wearing lip gloss. Great. You’re good to go.”
“Thanks.” He let Candi see herself out, then grabbed Emily’s present before making the five-minute drive to the Holden’s house. With uneasiness filling his stomach and nervousness coursing through his veins, he made his way to the large deck behind the house. A camera picked him up immediately.
It was showtime—in more ways than one, unfortunately.
Emily’s face lit up when she saw him. He shot her a grin and pushed aside the yawning guilt in his chest to stride toward her. She wheeled herself away from a picnic table where some of their high school friends had gathered. She sent him a chiding look. “You’re late.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
An indulgent smile tilted her lips. “Swimming again?”
“Guilty.” He slid his fingers through his damp hair. “We have more important thing to discuss, though.”
Her brown eyes sparkled. “Do we?”
Kneeling, he captured her gaze as he whispered a heartfelt, “Happy birthday, Emily Holden.”
“Happy birthday to me.” She caught hold of his collar to pull him in for a kiss. Everything within him tensed. This wasn’t right. How could she not feel it? There was nothing between them. No zing. No spark. He’d hoped that would change over time, that something new would develop. It hadn’t.
He let her pull away first. Breathlessly, she asked, “What did you get me this year?”
He laughed, then sent her a mock scolding look. “Always so impatient. All right, then. Give me your wrist.”
She held out her left hand as he dug into the pocket of his blazer. Someone gasped. A murmur went through the guests. He glanced at the party-goers in confusion, then pulled out a silver charm and connected it to her bracelet—something he’d done every year since her sixteenth birthday. Everyone seemed to deflate.
Emily shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the rest of the party. Her smile faltered. She murmured, “They thought you were proposing.”
His eyebrows rose as undisguised panic filled his voice. “What? Why? We’ve only been dating a few months.”
“We’ve been best friends for twenty years.”
“It isn’t the same thing.”
She shrugged. Suddenly, he realized her friends and family might not have been the only ones hoping for a quick engagement. Oh, man. This was… This was bad.
She was serious about him, considering marriage. Was that why Candi had asked what he was planning? Did everyone think he was ready to propose? He forced himself to smile. “What do you think of this year’s charm?”
She finally looked down at the silver bauble. It was a carefully hewn pair of hands folded in prayer. He’d chosen it because she’d been instrumental in bringing him back to his faith. While his had grown stronger since the accident, he knew hers had been shaken despite her best efforts to hide it.
He’d hoped the charm would be a reminder of where to draw her strength, but the faintness of her smile seemed to suggest he should have chosen otherwise. She covered the bracelet with her other hand. “Thank you.”
“Hey, Ian.” A hand clasped his shoulder. Justin, Emily’s brother and Ian’s walking illustration of the word “frenemy,” gave him a tight smile. “Will you help me bring out the drinks?”
“Sure thing.” Thankfully, the cameras stayed behind as Ian followed Justin to the kitchen. Ian’s relief was cut short by Justin’s glare. Ian took the case of cola Justin passed him, then asked, “What’s with all the glaring? Do we have a problem?”
“Yeah, we have a problem.” Justin met Ian’s gaze with flashing brown eyes. “You’re faking it. With Emily. You’re completely faking it.”
Ian’s whole body went cold. His stunned silence filled the kitchen. “How did you know?”
Justin laughed in disbelief. “How did I— You aren’t going to try to deny it?”
“No.” In fact, it was a relief that someone finally knew.
Justin shook his head. “How can you do it? How can you lie to her like this?”
“I don’t want to.” Unable to meet Justin’s gaze a second longer, Ian stared at the floor. “I just don’t know how to tell her the truth.”
“Which is what exactly?”
“My feelings for her have never changed. I love her as I always did—as a best friend, a sister. Nothing more. I never intended to give her any other impression, but I did. That’s my fault. Now, you tell me, Justin. After everything she’s been through, how am I supposed to tell her that?”
Fury in her voice, Emily wheeled past the kitchen doorway. “You just did.”
Ian’s eyes widened. “Emily.”
“Ian,” Justin warned.
He dropped the cola on the counter and rushed after her, nearly tripping over a cameraman in his haste. “Emily, wait!”
“I have nothing to say to you, Ian Sinclair.” She pushed the front door open and sped down the ramp he’d helped build two months ago. Reaching the sidewalk, she spun to face him and pointed toward the cars lining the street. “Leave! Now.”
“Emily, please. Listen to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I never meant to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt. I’m angry, and I’m disgusted with myself,” she yelled. “I watched you go through girlfriend after girlfriend. I waited. I prayed. I did everything I could to help you find the Lord. All of that for what? So, you could pretend to love me?
Because you pity me? Because I’m stuck in this chair? Because you feel guilty about the accident? Is being with me some kind of penance for you?”
He took a cautious step closer, then stopped when she rolled her chair backward equidistant. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like? Having to kiss me and—” She halted, breathing hard like she couldn’t catch her breath. An anxiety attack. She’d never had those before the accident.
He knelt beside her as tears streamed down her face. “I’m so—”
She pushed him away. “Get away from me!”
He stared up at her from flat on his back wondering where she’d gotten the strength. She gasped in a sob as her trembling fingers worked desperately to unfasten the bracelet. His heart dropped to his stomach. “Wait. Emily, don’t.”
Ignoring him, she threw it at him. He barely managed to lift a hand in time to keep the metal from hitting his face. It lashed against his arm, then ricocheted off to land in the grass. She pulled in a heavy breath. “Go! Take your stupid bracelet with you!”
Rick stepped in front of his daughter protectively. “You should go, Ian.”
Feeling dazed, Ian forced himself to stand. He backed away a few paces before striding down the block to sit in his truck. Unable to make himself drive away, he rubbed his hands over his moist eyes, then dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. “I messed up. I really messed up.”
That was nothing new. In fact, he seemed to make a habit of it. This time was different. He could feel it in his bones. He’d read it on Rick’s face. Rick. A father-figure ten times better than the one he’d been born to. His boss.
Someone knocked on the window. He startled and glanced up to find a cameraman filming him. He shook his head. “No.”
Beyond the Tide Page 2
