She was the sole reason why he had not slept last night. Guilt had kept him awake. After returning home from their disastrous dinner, he’d tossed and turned in his bed, unable to relax. Over and over in his mind he’d replayed the events that had led to their fateful embrace.
He didn’t think he’d ever forget how perfectly she’d fitted in his arms. Or how sweet her lips had tasted. Or the fire that had ignited in his belly at her touch. Or the pain and confusion he’d seen in her eyes when he’d pushed her away.
Now she stood waiting for him on the dock, a bittersweet reminder of what a fool he’d made of himself.
His gaze narrowed as he fought his own battle of indecision. A part of him wanted to turn around, to join his crew and lose himself in the mind-numbing bliss of hard labor. He wanted to deny himself the temptation of being anywhere near her.
But the illogical part of him, the part that ruled his heart and not his brain, wanted a second chance. He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t meant the harsh words he’d spoken, that he hadn’t wanted to push her away or to hurt her.
Samuel groaned inwardly. From the prohibitive expression on her face, he doubted if she were in the mood to forgive and forget.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” Jacob said, startling Samuel out of his troubled musings. The wiry man stood beside him, squinting down at Jessie. Grinning, he sidled a curious glance at Samuel. “As much as I wish it were true, I don’t think the pretty lady’s here to see me.”
Samuel scowled, embarrassed heat rushing to his face. “Don’t you have some shrimp to unload?”
“I suppose I do,” Jacob said. His grin widened. He didn’t appear at all intimidated by Samuel’s foul mood. “You know, Samuel, if you wanted a little privacy, all you had to do was say so.”
Samuel glared at his friend.
With a wink Jacob headed for the hold. “Don’t you worry none. We’ll get that catch unloaded. You just take care of the pretty lady, ya hear?”
The sound of chuckling followed Jacob down the steps into the hold.
Samuel set his jaw against a prickly burr of irritation. Telling himself he was a fool for bothering, he slung himself off the side of the boat. His boots thumped against the wooden dock as he landed a few feet in front of Jessie.
She flinched, shifting in surprise. But to his disappointment she wasn’t nearly scared enough to hightail it back to where she came from. Instead, swallowing hard, she smoothed a trembling hand down the length of her blue-jean clad thighs and stood her ground.
“I thought you were leaving town,” he growled, in lieu of a greeting. He stepped toward her, unmindful of the raw scent of shrimp and sweat that permeated his clothes.
“Well, you thought wrong,” she said, raising her chin in a stubborn show of defiance. He had to hand it to her, she was a lady through and through. No matter how strong the odor, not once did she wrinkle her sculpted nose at him in disdain. She met his stern gaze without wincing. “I have no intention of leaving Prudence Island. Not now or anytime soon.”
Samuel bit back a curse. Feigning an impatience that he didn’t really feel, he demanded, “Is that it? Is that all you came out here to tell me?”
“No,” she said, nervously licking her lips. His pulse quickened at the sight of her tongue gliding over her lips. Desire stirred as he remembered how sweet those lips had tasted, how much he’d like to sample them again. “I’ve come here to tell you that I’m going to find out what really happened to my mother…with or without your help.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, refusing to back down. “There is something to accomplish by rooting up the past. It’ll bring peace of mind. That and an answer to the question that’s nearly destroyed both of our lives…” Her voice broke. “I need to know the truth, Samuel. I need to know what really happened to my mother.”
“And what if the truth isn’t something you expected to hear?”
“Then I’ll have to deal with that when the time comes.”
Samuel stared at her, not sure what to say to change her mind. Silence strained between them. The only sound to be heard was the lapping of the water against the hull of the Marianna. That and the call of the seagulls overhead, voicing their disapproval at his lack of courage.
If he trusted himself enough to touch her, he would take her in his arms and try to shake some sense into that stubborn head of hers. Couldn’t she see how much danger she was putting herself in?
Dammit, why did he have to feel so responsible for her?
His silence proved more effective than a hundred discouraging words. Finally growing impatient with him, she blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know why I bothered coming here. I should have known you wouldn’t care.”
She started to leave. Then suddenly she changed her mind. Whipping around to glare at him, she said, “Just one more thing, Samuel. I never have and I never will seduce a man to get my way.”
With that she turned on her heel and stomped away.
She got about three feet down the dock before he stopped her. Grabbing her arm, he wheeled her around to face him. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words would not form. Instead, she stared at him in mute surprise.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly.
“Now? You want to talk now?” she asked, finding her voice. Indignation flashed in her dark eyes. She tugged her arm, vainly trying to loosen his hold. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you hear me out,” he said calmly, in the wake of her rising anger.
“You had your chance,” she snapped, still trying to jerk her arm free. “It’s too late. There’s nothing more I want to hear from you now.”
“Not even an apology?”
She stopped struggling. She frowned, uncertainty shadowing her eyes.
“About last night…” The words caught in his throat. Samuel cursed softly beneath his breath, wondering what in the world had possessed him to stop her. He should have let her walk off the dock, walk out of his life forever. Admitting he was wrong, about anything, just wasn’t in his nature. Unable to face her, he averted his gaze. Staring at the hull of his boat, he forced himself to continue, “I’m sorry, Jessie. I don’t blame you. If I hadn’t wanted to kiss you, it would never have happened.”
Still she didn’t say a word. He looked to see her studying him, her expression wary. Samuel clenched his jaw in annoyance. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, he realized. He was going to have to do more than ply her with the right words to make amends. He was going to have to prove that he was sincere.
Sighing, he said, “If you want to know about your mother, then you need to talk to someone who knew her best—Dora Hawkins.”
“Dora Hawkins?” she repeated, flinching at the name.
He raised a brow. “Do you know her?”
“We’ve met. She introduced herself to me on my second day on the island,” she admitted with a troubled frown.
Seeing her reaction, he said, “I take it your meeting didn’t go well.”
“Let’s just say the encounter was a little disturbing,” she said with a dismissive shrug that failed. Choosing her words carefully, she added, “Dora seemed a bit on the eccentric side.”
He laughed, amused for the first time that day. “Dora isn’t eccentric. She’s out-and-out odd. But she’s also a good friend of mine. One of the few friends who’ve stuck by me throughout the scandal involving my father.”
Jessie nodded, still looking uncertain.
Knowing he was asking for trouble, Samuel ventured another suggestion. “If you’d like, I could come with you when you talk to her. You might feel more comfortable with someone else there.”
Jessie looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, as though trying to judge the depth of his sincerity. Apparently he passed muster. With a hesitant smile she said, “I’d like that.”
Samuel’s lips twitched. Unable to stop himself, he grinned in return. “Give me a minute.
I need to shower and change and tell my crew that I’m leaving.”
She nodded.
He felt her gaze upon him as he clambered up the side of the boat. Once on board, he looked back one last time. The wind whipped her dark hair into her eyes. She brushed the lock away with her long, tapering fingers. Her jeans fit her curves snugly, emphasizing her slender legs. She looked just as beautiful today as she had last night.
Samuel forced himself to look away. He must be crazy to think he could spend time alone with her and not be tempted.
Dammit, what the hell did he think he was doing?
Chapter 7
“Tell me about the island.”
Samuel shot her a quick look across the front seat of his truck. Since Jessie had walked to the docks, Samuel had offered to drive her to Dora Hawkins’s house. She had agreed.
Now she sat just an arm’s length away, wishing she could see his eyes—those pale blue eyes that revealed so much emotion—that were hidden behind the dark frames of his sunglasses. Since leaving the docks, Samuel hadn’t said a word. Jessie didn’t have a clue as to what he was thinking.
His brow creasing into a frown, he turned his attention back to the highway. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” A breeze drifting in from the open wind lifted a strand of her hair across her face. Tucking the stray lock behind her ear, she looked out at the live oaks with their gossamer ropes of spanish moss. Flowering bushes lined the roadside. She breathed deeply the rich scent of magnolia. “It’s so beautiful here. You must love living on the island.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said quietly.
Jessie glanced at him sharply. “Is there something about the island that you haven’t told me?”
“No dark secrets, no curses, if that’s what you mean,” he said with a brief smile. Sobering, his grip tightened on the steering wheel, cording the muscles of his arms. “But there’s more to a community than the land it’s sitting on. There’s the people who live on the island.”
“I take it you haven’t found the residents to be as pleasant as the island itself.”
He hesitated before answering. Then, with a resigned breath he said, “Let’s just say that memories are long in a small town. And they aren’t always forgiving.”
His curt tone encouraged no further discussion. Silently Jessie wondered who clung to the memories of the past more, the residents of Prudence Island or Samuel. While she didn’t yet know him as well as she would like, Samuel seemed to carry a heavy burden on his shoulders. One that may or may not be of his own making. Perhaps the residents of Prudence Island weren’t the only ones unwilling to give someone a second chance.
Just past Gull’s Cottage, Samuel turned off the highway onto a narrow lane. Unlike her own driveway, the road was paved and well maintained. Like hers, however, the underbrush along the roadside was thick and wild. So thick, Jessie couldn’t see Gull’s Cottage, even though she knew it was nearby.
The sound of the ocean grew louder, its salty scent stronger. Gradually the thicket cleared and a large, gray, wood and stone house came into view. Surprised, Jessie did a double take. In sharp contrast to the home’s dull exterior, brightly colored flowers were everywhere, sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. From the boxes beneath the windows, to the beds lining the stone walkway, flowers spilled out in every direction, occupying every nook and cranny of available garden space.
“Goodness, this must take hours to tend,” she said, her voice filled with wonderment. “How does Dora find the time?”
“She doesn’t have much else to do,” Samuel said, with a shrug. He pulled the truck to a stop in front of the house and turned off the ignition. An eerie silence descended between them as they both studied the house. “Dora’s never been married. She doesn’t have children. No brothers, no sisters. Her father was a lumber baron. He owned a large mill up in the northern part of the state. When he died he left Dora with enough money to do with as she pleased. She’s all alone in the world. I suppose gardening fills a void.”
Quietly Jessie digested this insight into her eccentric neighbor’s life. She scanned the property, not seeing anyone stirring. “Do you think she’s home?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” With his hand on the door handle, he hesitated. He turned to look at her, his eyes still hidden from view. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Jessie’s tummy quivered with trepidation. A chill of foreboding swept her body. It wasn’t the first time Samuel had tried to discourage her from digging into the past. What was it he wasn’t telling her?
“I’m sure,” she said, with more determination than she actually felt.
“Right. Then, let’s go.” The battered door of the old truck sighed in protest as he pushed it open.
Reluctantly Jessie opened her own door and stepped down onto the paved driveway. The sun felt warm against her skin. Thanks to the multitude of flowers, a deliciously sweet aroma filled the air, mingling with the salty scent of the ocean. Seagulls flew into patterns in the sky, swooping down toward the beach in search of their day’s meal. It seemed odd that a woman as abrasive as Dora Hawkins chose to live in such a calm and peaceful setting.
Jessie followed Samuel up the stone pathway to the front door. He lifted the antique pewter knocker and rapped sharply. Seconds ticked by like hours as they waited for someone to answer.
“She must not be home,” Jessie said after a few moments, stating the obvious. Disappointment and relief warred inside her. While she was anxious to learn more about her mother, the thought of facing the eccentric woman once again sent shivers down her spine. Wanly she hazarded a suggestion, “We could try again later.”
“Let’s check around back first,” Samuel said, nodding toward the oceanside. “There are more gardens facing the beach.”
Midway around the house, the view of the ocean opened up before them. Wide stretches of white sand and blue water played a breathtaking background to Dora’s rainbow-colored garden. For the first time, Jessie spotted Gull’s Cottage in the distance. Even with its brilliant white siding, the house looked forlorn and empty.
“Dora’s not back here, either,” Samuel said, glancing around the grounds. He shook his head in disgust. “Looks as though we’ve wasted a trip.”
A movement on the path leading to the beach caught her eye. Jessie held a hand over her brow and squinted into the sunlight. “No, wait. Someone’s coming.”
Gravel crunched beneath his feet as Samuel turned, following the direction of her gaze.
Sunlight blinked off a pair of round glasses. Jessie recognized the short, squat figure with the brown hair and the square face. It was Dora.
The older woman strode quickly up the path, with her head bent down, her eyes focused on the ground before her. Her expression distracted, she tucked a pair of work gloves into the pocket of her loose-fitting khaki pants. She didn’t notice their presence until she was almost upon them.
When she finally saw them, she stopped so quickly she nearly slipped on the gravel path. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. A hand fluttered to her throat. She stared at them, unable to say a word.
“Dora?” Samuel said, his expression full of concern as he moved toward her. “Are you all right? We didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Samuel,” Dora managed, on a strangled breath. Her sharp gaze flew to Jessie. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Jessie fought the urge to squirm beneath the accusing measure of the other woman’s stare. There was something about Dora’s reaction that unnerved her. It went beyond mere surprise. The woman seemed flustered, disconcerted by their appearance.
Not that Jessie blamed her. Seeing her and Samuel together would make for quite a shock. After all, considering their families’ mutual history, they were an unlikely couple.
“We didn’t call before coming over,” he admitted, his tone apologetic. “We thought we’d take our chances that you’d be he
re.”
“That’s quite all right,” Dora said crisply, recovering her aplomb, though her smile seemed forced. “Now that you’re here, why don’t you have a seat? I’ll fetch us some lemonade and we can visit.”
“Actually, we’re here for more than just a visit,” Samuel explained quietly.
Dora’s smile faded. Her troubled gaze darted from Samuel to Jessie, then back again. “Maybe you’d better tell me exactly what it is you want.”
Slowly Samuel took off his sunglasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket. He looked at Jessie, his blue eyes warm and encouraging. “It’s about Eve. Jessie wants to know about her mother. I thought it best she heard from someone who knew her…as a friend.”
“I see,” Dora said, her eyes traveling once again to Jessie. For a long moment she didn’t say a word. Then “You sure you’re ready to open that can of worms?”
Jessie blinked in surprise.
Samuel shifted uncomfortably beside her. Frowning, he said, “Dora—”
“No, Samuel,” Jessie said, stopping him from protecting her. She faced the other woman, determined not to let her see how much she intimidated her. “Whatever it is you have to say, I want to hear it. All of it.”
Dora’s gaze narrowed assessingly. “I was wrong. You have more spunk than I gave you credit for. You are your mother’s daughter.” With a sweep of her hand she motioned to the cedar bench and chairs. “You’d better make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get the lemonade.”
With that dubious show of Southern gentility, she disappeared into the house.
Samuel waited for Jessie to make the next move. She stood stiffly in the garden, her back to the house, looking out at the ocean. A pensive frown marred her beautiful face. Her dark lashes fluttered as though staving off unwanted tears.
A part of him wished she would change her mind. That she’d ask him to take her back to Gull’s Cottage…before it was too late. He fought the tension thrumming through his body, tension born of guilt.
For the life of him, he couldn’t be the one to tell Jessie the truth. He didn’t even know if he could stay and witness her inevitable disillusionment. He had no doubt that what Dora was about to tell Jessie would crush her.
Safe in His Arms Page 9
