Barefoot in the Sun

by Roxanne St Claire

Except that it wasn’t an unknown voice; that was Pasha’s voice. A soft, lilting, sweet voice that usually made Zoe feel better. This voice was telling her not to make the same mistakes Pasha had made. This voice was telling her to walk through the door Oliver had opened and not be afraid of whatever life held.

  Don’t let fear stop you.

  Anger gave way to a soft appreciation. Pasha had done what Pasha thought she had to do. But Zoe did not have to live with those same shackles on her wrists.

  Zoe took the letter and pressed it to her heart, then to her lips.

  Standing up, she slipped the envelope into the pocket of her skirt, saving it for later.

  Less than an hour later, a very small crowd of about a dozen people milled about the beachside patio of Casa Blanca, where Clay and Lacey had set up the chairs for the service. Zoe’s friends were there, along with a few of the townspeople or staff who’d met Pasha while she’d lived in Barefoot Bay, the whole thing as intimate as a small family gathering.

  Zoe stayed in the middle, greeting guests, accepting condolences, quietly listening to people share tidbits and vignettes about their interactions with Pasha.

  “She read shampoo bubbles when I did her hair,” Gloria Vail said as she stood flanked by her cousin, Grace, and her aunt, Charity, who looked around like she was determined to find someone doing something she could criticize. “Said I’d found true love.”

  “You have found true love,” Zoe said. “I could see it all over Slade’s face when I met with him the other day.”

  Goria beamed. “How can we thank you enough, Zoe? Closing that case by proving Matthew Hobarth Senior had murdered his son was the best thing that ever happened in his career.”

  “He’s in Naples, meeting with his new boss.” Gloria smiled, brushing back her dark hair in a nervous gesture. “He’s so excited about the promotion to the Naples office.”

  “He should be,” Zoe said. “Thanks to him, we not only got the DNA sample the FBI needed, we got a confession.”

  Next to Grace, Charity snorted. “It wasn’t like Slade muscled it out of the guy using his state-of-the-art interrogation techniques.”

  Gloria closed her eyes, fighting for patience. “It doesn’t matter how he got it, Aunt Charity. He got it.”

  “On the man’s deathbed while he was getting last rites.” Charity rolled her eyes. “Puhlease.”

  “I’m eternally grateful,” Zoe said quickly, pulling Gloria to her with a kind hand. Not only had Slade gotten the DNA evidence to prove Pasha was innocent and her ex was guilty, he’d convinced the FBI to drop any and all charges against Zoe for aiding and abetting a kidnapper and using false identification. She had a clean slate now. At the thought, she added another hug to Gloria. “Your boyfriend is a hero.”

  “I know he is,” Gloria said, shooting a look at her aunt. “I couldn’t be more proud of him.”

  Tessa signaled Zoe from across the patio. “You ready?” she mouthed.

  Zoe nodded and walked to the rail that faced the Gulf. Tessa pressed a button that worked the sound system, and the first strains of an old Romanian folk song played through the speakers. When everyone sat down, Zoe stayed standing and started her short speech.

  “Pasha would tell you all that today’s cloudless sky was a sign.” She skimmed the faces of the few guests, lingering for a moment on Tessa, then Jocelyn and Will, who sat with Jocelyn’s father between them. Last, she looked at Ashley, next to Lacey and Clay, who bounced baby Elijah in his arms.

  She might be burying the only “family” she’d ever had today, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have family…and a home.

  “She’d say it meant clear sailing straight to…” Just then, Oliver stepped onto the patio, with Evan next to him. “Heaven,” she finished.

  Everything stopped. Time, her heart, her very next breath. She couldn’t help staring at him, inhaling the sight she’d missed so much the last few days.

  He met her gaze, but his only movement was to put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder, reminding Zoe that Evan had cared for Pasha and he must be devastated, too.

  “Today, we’re going to sprinkle Pasha’s ashes in the water of Barefoot Bay and while the tides will carry her from place to place in a way that would please any gypsy, I hope that a piece of her will stay here in our hearts forever.”

  She stole another look at Oliver, easily able to read the question in his eyes.

  Pasha will stay forever, but will you?

  Somehow, she pulled it together and made it through the rest of the service, stepping aside while her friends spoke about Pasha. Then, arm in arm in arm with her three best friends, Zoe walked down to the shore to bid Pasha good-bye. The ashes fluttered in the breeze, then landed on the water, spreading slowly to start Pasha’s next journey.

  After that, Zoe felt ready to face Oliver, but he was gone.

  The sharp, unexpected pang of disappointment was as powerful as the heartache she’d felt when she’d flung the ashes.

  “You okay?” Tessa asked.

  “Ready to go in for lunch?” Lacey took her hand and tugged her toward the resort. “We’re christening the new kitchen.”

  “I want to walk for a little bit,” she said. “Can you go up with everyone and start? I need a few minutes alone.”

  With understanding hugs, they left, and Zoe turned to the private beach that curved for nearly a mile. The solitude beckoned, and she kicked off her shoes and let a brisk walk become a run. The Gulf breeze whipped over her face, drying her tears before they spilled.

  Tears that weren’t for Pasha, but for Oliver.

  He’d left, of course. She’d made it clear that she didn’t trust herself or her lousy track record, that she couldn’t endure the pain of loss, that she’d never seen what true love looked like up close, so how could she even know how to live that kind of fairy-tale life?

  She’d buried him with excuses and lost him, too.

  She glanced over her shoulder. She was a good half mile from the resort now, and completely alone. Finally, she dropped down to the sand and reached into her pocket for the letter.

  What would have happened if she’d gotten this letter when Oliver had intended her to? What could he have possibly said that would have changed her life? She slipped her finger into the old seal and started to tear.

  “Dear Zoe.”

  She whipped around at the sound of Oliver’s voice, a gasp on her lips.

  “Those are the first two words.”

  Unable to speak, she watched him approach, silent until he sat down next to her.

  “Want to hear the rest?”

  “I thought I’d read it for myself.”

  “You can, or I can tell you what it says.” He reached his hand out and waited.

  She hesitated, then slipped the envelope between his fingers. “Read it to me.”

  “No need. I remember exactly what I wrote.”

  “You do? Every word?”

  “Every word.” He held it up to the sun, like he was trying to see through it, or offer it up as a sacrifice to the gods of star-crossed lovers.

  “Dear Zoe,” he said again.

  She smiled. “I got that much.”

  He placed two fingers in the middle of the envelope and took a breath. “Imagine my shock and sadness when I found you’d left.”

  For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was reciting the letter or talking. But before she could ask, he tore the envelope…right in half.

  “What are you—”

  “I cried like a stupid kid,” he said, looking out to the horizon as he spoke. “Just sat in that living room where we’d once played Strip Egyptian Rat Screws and you cheated—”

  “I did not!”

  “So that I had to play for ten minutes in nothing but socks.”

  A half laugh caught in her throat. “It was a good ten minutes,” she whispered. “I dominated that round.”

  He turned the two squares of paper sideways and ripped again. “You want to hear the rest
?”

  “If I’m hearing the real letter. Otherwise…” She looked at the torn pages. “I’m never going to know what it said.”

  “This is exactly what it said,” he assured her, clearing his throat to recite again. “After I realized you weren’t coming back, I started a search for you. A search I doubt will ever end.”

  The sound of tearing paper—and of breaking hearts—punctuated that sentence. Nope. She’d never know what was in that letter now.

  “And?”

  He took another breath, still looking at the water. “Zoe, I want you to know that unless you come back, I’m going to make a life-changing decision that you might not understand or agree with. But I know it’s the right decision, at least I hope so.”

  “The decision to marry Adele and be a father to Evan?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “It was the right decision,” she whispered.

  “I’m making this decision with full knowledge that I currently do and probably will always love you.” He had the letter in very small pieces now, his fingers still. “And I believe that, even though you never told me, you love me, too.”

  “I did.” I do.

  “And no matter that everyone and everything is against us…” He turned his head to look at her. “We are meant to be together.”

  “We are.” The words came out in a hoarse whisper, caught in a sob.

  “Forever.” Once last time, he tore what was left of the letter, the pieces no bigger than an inch by now. “So if you ever find it in your heart to come back to me, Zoe, I will change my life in whatever way is necessary to make you the biggest, best, and most wonderful part of it.”

  Was this Oliver’s letter of yesterday or Oliver’s heart of today speaking to her? She didn’t ask because she was lost in his eyes.

  “Many things will change in our lives,” he continued, “but one thing will never ever change. I’ll make mistakes that I can’t fix and so will you, but through it all, Zoe Tamarin, I will love you. I love you now and forever. If there is any way you’ll spend your life with me, I want you to know I am yours. Always.”

  “Always?”

  “Love, Oliver.”

  He opened his hand and twenty tiny pieces of paper fluttered into the wind, like those ashes she’d just released. Zoe reached for one and snagged it, glancing at the white square and the three words it captured:

  life-changing decision

  And another, fluttering next to her foot, that said come back to me.

  “So you didn’t make that up? That’s really what the letter said?”

  “It is.”

  “Why wouldn’t you let me read it?”

  “Because I wanted to say it to you.”

  She watched one more piece picked up on a breeze float on the wind, like she loved to do. “Why couldn’t I keep it?”

  “It’s history, honey.” He touched her chin and turned her face toward his. “You can’t be a prisoner of history when it’s time to look forward and start a new life.”

  New life. “That’s why Pasha gave me the name Zoe. It means new life.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her. “Zoe Bradbury. You know what that means?”

  A little thrill danced from her scalp to her toes. “It means new life…with the man I love.”

  He kissed her so tenderly the tears threatened again.

  “Was that all that was in the letter?” she asked.

  “P.S.” He cupped her jaw and held her face. “I bought some land in Barefoot Bay and I’m going to build a house. Would you marry me and make that our home forever?”

  Our home forever.

  Chills washed over her skin like certainty over her heart. She closed her eyes as his mouth touched hers. “Yes.” When they broke the kiss, she searched his face for the truth. “Did the letter really say all that?”

  He eased her back on the sand, blocking the sun with another kiss. “Every word except the P.S.”

  “That was the best letter I never read.”

  “And you’re the best woman I never seem to be able to pin down.”

  “You’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

  He smiled, satisfied, and kissed her again. “You want to go up and share the good news with all your friends?”

  “You know what I want to do?” She caressed his cheek and brought him closer.

  “Hmm?”

  “I want to stay right here. I want to…stay.”

  Epilogue

  Four Months Later

  I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  Zoe turned to Oliver and took a deep breath. “You ready for this, doc?” she whispered over the loud cheer of the crowd.

  “I am so ready.”

  “Another kiss!” someone in the crowd yelled out.

  “Are you sure?” Zoe asked. “Because you can back out, even now. I can do this alone if I need to.”

  “Alone? Not a chance. I’m all in, Zoe.”

  “It’s gonna be scary sometimes.”

  He shook his head. “Not worried.”

  “We could have turbulence.”

  He shrugged. “A few bumps don’t bother me.”

  “You ready to face your fears?”

  He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. “Remember our motto?”

  “Don’t let fear stop you,” she replied.

  “So I’m ready.”

  “Then we’re good to go.” She grinned at him, swiping back a lock of hair that had blown over her face from a much stronger than usual Gulf breeze, a reminder of just how wild this ride was about to be. She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd still clapping and calling for kisses. “You’ve got about five seconds to change your mind.”

  “Zoe, stop worrying about me and get this thing ready to fly.” He heaved a sandbag and let it fall next to the basket, a fine sheen of sweat on his face from the full-out labor of inflating the snow-white balloon tethered on the beach at Barefoot Bay. “Lacey wants a million pictures for the brochure, not to mention a bride and groom who think they’re about to get the ride of a lifetime. Stop worrying about me.”

  “Actually I’m more worried about the wind,” she said. “We’re right at seven knots, which means a rough ride.”

  She’d only had her new balloon up a few times since she’d purchased it and started taking passengers for Sylver Skies and Casa Blanca. All the trips had been smooth, including the maiden voyage when she’d taken Jocelyn and Will up after their small beachfront wedding. But today’s winds would challenge the best of pilots.

  With the loud cheer from the crowd on the beach, they both turned and watched about sixty people part to let Gloria and Slade glide through. The newlyweds waved, then kissed, then laughed their way across the beach, the setting sun creating a stunning backdrop of orange, blue, peach, and purple.

  This should be a perfect flight…except for the damn wind.

  Two photographers flanked the couple as they kissed and walked barefoot over the sand. One cameraman was taking pictures for Gloria’s album, but the other was shooting exclusively for Casa Blanca’s destination wedding package that Lacey, Zoe, Jocelyn, and Tessa had spent the last four months creating.

  “Look at that scene,” Tessa said, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres that would feed the newlyweds, best man, and maid of honor once they were airborne. “You know, if this idea takes off, Casa Blanca could be booked with intimate, high-end weddings for years.”

  “What needs to take off is this balloon,” Zoe said.

  “You can do it,” Oliver said quickly, his hand on her back. “Unless you don’t feel okay.”

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly, slipping away before Tessa heard the exchange. “I’m concentrating.”

  Around the gondola, the ground crew steadied the four-story balloon and the top-of-the-line basket that could hold up to ten people. It was no mean feat in this strong breeze.

  Zoe turned to the picnic table about twenty feet away, where her very favorite weather ge
nius tapped a tablet and then held his digital anemometer to the sky, measuring air velocity, direction, and humidity.

  “What do you have, Evan?” she called.

  He popped up from the table at the same time as Moonbow, the stray dog he’d found at the beach that no one ever claimed. She smiled, still in agreement with Evan that the dog was Pasha’s parting gift.

  Moonbow wasn’t the only permanent addition to Barefoot Bay. After one month back in Chicago, Evan had pleaded with his parents to change the custody arrangement so he could live primarily with Oliver. Adele’s surprising agreement had been one of the highlights of the past few months. Along with …

  Zoe glanced down at her newly protruding stomach. They were going to have to make the announcement soon. There was no way to hide her secret under flowing skirts and frilly tops much longer.

  Evan interrupted that thought, waving an instrument. “Fly east, Zoe. It’s gusty over the Gulf.”

  “I plan on it, kid. Don’t forget to text the velocity and humidity readings to your dad and be sure to come along with the crew when we have a landing spot, okay?”

  Tessa joined them, straightening the vest of the sharp white tux she wore as the official steward of the flight. “It’s showtime, folks.”

  Gloria and Slade reached the balloon with a wake of wedding guests and a flurry of hugs and congratulations. As Gloria gathered the skirts of her flowing white gown, Slade easily scooped her into his arms to lift her into the gondola basket, every move captured on camera.

  Tessa welcomed them, getting the couple, plus the maid of honor, best man and the two cameramen situated safely while Zoe handled the piloting duties.

  The crewmen directed the other guests away from the balloon, and, over the crowd, Zoe could see Lacey and Clay watching like proud parents, giving her all kinds of thumbs-ups.

  When everyone was ready, Zoe fired a burner to create a brilliant balloon glow, the golden light turning the “wedding-white” balloon as bright as the sun setting behind them.

  Everyone oohed and aahed as the crew let go of the lines and the Casa Blanca speakers played “Love Lifts Us Up” as the takeoff song. Zoe hummed, the satisfying hiss of her burner valve drowning out the corny but cute lyrics.