Barefoot Summer

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Barefoot Summer Page 7

by Denise Hunter


  He selected a table in a shadowed corner, pulling out Jade’s chair, and made small talk with her for a while. A three-piece band struck up a slow tune, and he was grateful for the interruption of the awkward conversation.

  It was sinking in that getting through this night was only half the battle. She’d expect another date and then another. How was he going to let her down easy?

  His hand faltered on the way to the water glass when he saw Mr. and Mrs. McKinley across the room. A few seconds later he spied Jade’s brother Ryan at a table with friends. Great. Just great. The whole family was going to hate him. They’d be relieved when nothing came of their relationship, no doubt, but they’d hate him for hurting Jade.

  At the end of the song, the band shifted to another tune. The soft buzz of conversation filled the room as waiters began placing salads. Jade pushed back, her green eyes shining. “I need to use the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  He watched her go, the guilt pressing hard against his ribs, making breathing uncomfortable. Stupid! Why had he ever thought it was okay to ask Madison out?

  A moment later his baby sister slipped into the chair next to his, her blue skirt billowing around her. Layla’s hair fell in dark springy ringlets, and a hint of makeup complemented her naturally pretty face.

  “She said yes! Where is she?”

  Apparently Layla hadn’t seen Jade yet. He sank deeper into the metal chair. “She didn’t say yes. Her sister did.”

  Layla’s fine brows pulled together. “What?”

  He told her what happened, watching every emotion register on her face.

  “Oh, honey, that’s awful. What are you going to do?”

  Sidney Blevins grabbed Layla’s arm. “Help! My spaghetti strap broke! You have a pin?”

  Beckett looked away as his sister dug through her enormous purse.

  “I’ll be right back,” Layla said a moment later.

  “Take your time.” He wasn’t going anywhere.

  The band played two more songs before he saw Jade making her way toward him. He forced a smile, but as she neared he registered a change in her stride, in her posture.

  Closer still, he saw more changes. Her lips drawn tight, a smudge of black under one of them. She looked at the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as she neared.

  “Take me home.” Gone was the hopeful lilt to her voice.

  He stood, touching her arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  She shrugged away. “Just take me home!”

  A pink flush bloomed on her cheeks. Her bloodshot eyes flitted to and fro.

  Beckett led her through the maze of tables, his mind turning. What had happened since she’d left? Scarcely ten minutes had passed.

  Outside, sudden silence fell around them like an itchy blanket. Should he press her? Leave her alone? He was no good with teary women. Never had been.

  The cab vibrated with tension, the silence broken only by her sniffles. He couldn’t let her go until he got to the bottom of it.

  He pulled onto Main Street, darting a glance at her as she knuckled a tear off her cheek. “Did someone upset you?”

  “Just leave me alone, Beckett,” she said through clenched teeth.

  But he couldn’t. He was responsible for her. She was his date, accidental or not. “If someone bothered you, I want to know. Was it a guy?”

  Had someone manhandled her? He felt a surge of protectiveness—the kind he’d feel if someone hurt Layla. He stopped at a red light. “If someone hurt you, tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “You can stop with the act already! I know you wanted Madison, not me, so you can just take your false concern and shove it!”

  How had she found out? Beckett bit back a word he hadn’t said in years. “Jade—”

  Jade turned toward her window, wiping tears. “Just take me home! This is the most humiliating night of my life.”

  The light had turned green. Beckett accelerated. His sister was the only one who knew. Could she have said something in the bathroom to her friend and Jade overheard?

  He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny it, so he said nothing. The short drive to Madison’s house took an eternity. He felt only relief when he saw that Madison’s car wasn’t in the drive. Maybe Jade wouldn’t tell her sister that Beckett had come to ask her to the banquet. As soon as the thought surfaced, his stomach turned at his selfishness.

  He shut off the ignition and reached for the door handle.

  “Don’t bother,” Jade said, then slammed her door.

  He’d watched her enter the darkened house, feeling like the mucky stuff at the bottom of the Ohio River. It was the last time anyone saw her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE BASSET HOUND SQUIRMED IN MADISON’S ARMS AS HER heels clicked on the sterile tile of Countryside Manor’s hallway. She passed Mrs. Doolittle’s station, and the nurse glared at the pup over her bifocals.

  “Hello, Mrs. Doolittle.”

  “Hmph.”

  If it had been up to the nurse, Madison wouldn’t be bringing “filthy animals” into the center at all. Thankfully, Mrs. Doolittle didn’t have the final say.

  Madison dropped a kiss on the pup’s warm fur, and he raised his bright brown eyes to hers. “You’re not filthy, are you, sweetie?”

  The hound wouldn’t be long at the shelter, with his adorable puppy looks and frisky ways. Her elderly friends were going to love him.

  She entered the rec room and found her favorite group of ladies in the far corner, their knitting needles flying almost as fast as their mouths. Known as the Kneeling Nanas, they’d started as a morning prayer group that evolved to include evening knitting. Despite their name, Madison was sure a few of them hadn’t a prayer of making it to their knees, much less making it back up. Nonetheless, they were a lively bunch.

  “Hello, ladies! I brought a visitor.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Geiger said. “He’s just a pup—aren’t you a handsome fellow.” She set down her knitting, reached for the dog, and pulled him against her ample bosom. He licked her fleshy cheek, making her laugh.

  “Why does she always get to be first?” Mrs. Etter’s needles clacked as she worked them with spry fingers.

  “Because she sits nearest the door, silly.” Mrs. Stuckey poked her plastic-framed glasses into place. “He sure is cute.”

  “Achoooooo!” Mrs. Marquart’s needles went flying as she covered her sneeze. “I’m allergic, remember?” Her project fell to the floor as she stood, reaching for her walker. The sneeze had knocked her auburn wig slightly askew.

  “Oh, sit down,” Mrs. Geiger said, passing the dog on. “You’re allergic to cats, not dogs.”

  Mrs. Marquart frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” Madison said, discreetly straightening the woman’s wig. “Remember the spaniel? He fell asleep in your lap.”

  Mrs. Geiger snorted. “Then you fell asleep.”

  “We should’ve taken a picture and put it on Facepages,” Mrs. Stuckey said.

  “Facebook.” Mrs. Etter dropped a kiss on the pup’s head. “He’s darling. Is he spoken for?”

  “We’re not allowed pets.” Mrs. Stuckey had resumed work on an infant sweater, for one of her great-grandbabies, no doubt.

  “My grandson Perry is looking for a dog for his kids. I think they’d love this little guy.”

  “He’s available, but not for long, I’d guess,” Madison said. “Talk it over with Perry, and let me know soon if they’re really interested. He’s potty trained and has all his shots.”

  “Oh, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, sugar baby?”

  “Still no word from your sister?” Mrs. Stuckey asked Madison, her fingers flying.

  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

  HER NEW TRUCE WITH BECKETT 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?”

 

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