Raina shooed away the gulls, sat down at the fire, picked up a stick to poke at it. John had doused it with water, so the embers swam in an ashy-gray stew.
Heat pressed her eyes. One minute she’d been in the middle of the conversation—okay, on the edge listening, but here, on the team. The next . . . Despite Ingrid’s words, it felt like the story of her life. She got up to check the area for any more garbage, threw out a couple runaway napkins, then headed toward the beach to walk home.
Behind her, tires crunched on gravel. “Raina!”
She looked up. Casper got out of his truck, closing the door. He jogged over to her. “Where are you going?”
She blinked, fast, hard, not wanting him to see the moisture in her eyes. “Home?”
“On such a beautiful night? Don’t you want to see the best place in all of Deep Haven to watch the sunset?”
He stood there, twirling his key chain, grinning as if they’d planned this, a friendly sunset date. Or maybe they had—she had a faint recollection of him mentioning the sunset today at practice. He’d been serious?
She frowned. “But . . . you left.”
“Sorry. I had to run to the office and pay for our use of the picnic shelter. I forgot and I didn’t want them to think we were running off, leaving the bill behind.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“It’s just . . . you aren’t at all the guy I thought you were.”
“Who did you think I was?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.” She glanced toward the setting sun, not sure if she should give him an out. “I think people had a good time—”
“Are you kidding? They had a great time. Now c’mon . . .”
Before she could stop him, he’d reached out, taken her hand. And then they were walking along the beach, like a couple.
It took her a second to catch up. He had strong hands, the kind used to hard work, and she was just about to tighten her grip when he let hers go.
Oh.
“Most people don’t know about this secret sunset-watching getaway. They come down to the harbor and sit on the beach. But there’s this little path here . . .”
He led her down the rocky shoreline, past a boat launch to a tiny trail through the woods. He held back a branch and she followed the path.
It emerged only thirty feet later onto another beach.
“See, the land sort of juts out to the south, and most people walk out on the rocks there. But trust me—this is the view you want.” He took her hand again—this time she didn’t read anything into it—and led her to a grouping of boulders, a shelf of rock that slid out into the lake, the water caught in pockets and crannies. He stopped at a couple tall rocks and lifted her easily on top of one, then climbed up beside her.
Casper leaned back on his hands as if they were old friends catching the sunset every day.
It felt comfortable. Easy.
“In a second, the sun is going to go down, and the sky is going to turn this amazing mix of red and orange. The lake becomes a sort of deep purple, and the clouds will be streaked with color as if they’re on fire.”
“You sound like you’ve seen this before.” She didn’t want to add the sudden thought that he’d brought other girls out to this very spot.
“My dad and I used to come here. He would fish on the big lake sometimes, and after we pulled in the boat, we’d sneak back here, take in the magic.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s just one of the many treasures of Deep Haven. One of the reasons I love living here.” He sighed. “And one of the reasons I hate the thought of leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” Of course he was. She should have seen this coming.
“I don’t know. I’ve been offered this internship in Roatán. It’s an island off Honduras where there’s a number of shipwrecks and pirate treasures.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, then stopped when she saw his expression dim. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I thought . . . You’re serious.”
“Yeah, I think so.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “Or I thought so. Until just a second ago. It does sound a little hokey, doesn’t it? But I’m an archaeology major, so—”
“So it’s not hokey at all.” She glanced at the sunset, and indeed, it had turned magical, the colors revealing the artistry of God.
Funny, she never would have had that thought before moving here. Maybe Liza’s religious thinking had infected her. The thought sank in and didn’t hurt.
“Is that what you want? To be a treasure hunter?”
“I’d like to find something precious, yes. Maybe Blackbeard’s treasure. Or a lost artifact from the Crusades.”
“So you’re like what’s his name—Indiana Jones?”
He laughed and it sweetened the air. “I guess so. Mostly I just want to find the things hidden, the treasure that no one sees or doesn’t think to look for.” He picked up a rock, tossed it into a puddle of flame. “What do you want?”
A home. A family. This moment with a man who wouldn’t jump on his motorcycle and drive away.
“I want to be safe,” she said quietly, before she could stop herself.
His expression drained. She tried to lighten her words with a smile but then looked away. “I came here because I had nowhere else to go, and Liza offered me a home.”
He was still looking at her, and she blinked, fighting another rush of tears to her eyes. Why had she said that?
“You came to the right place,” he said finally. Then he wove his hand into hers.
He didn’t take it away, even after the sun had disappeared, even after the sky turned from fire to soft indigo velvet.
And as he drove her home under the glow of a fresh moon, she conceded that maybe, yes, she had.
I want to be safe.
The words dug into Casper, had turned him in his sleep. Who could have hurt Raina, made her feel unsafe?
That thought had plagued him deep into the night, until finally he’d gotten up, found himself a stale cup of coffee, heated it, and sat outside, watching the stars.
With her words, her behavior this week started to make sense. It had taken him an entire cup of coffee and small talk, even some teasing to get her to look him in the eye after their accidental dunking in the lake. As if she were angry . . . or afraid of him.
Then, after their first team paddle, onshore at her suggestion, he’d glanced around to offer her a ride home and found her halfway to Liza’s house. Not that it was a far jog from the harbor, but . . .
But he’d hoped to ask her out for another cup of coffee.
Instead, he’d caught up and walked her home, then sat on her front porch, telling her about Darek and the rebuilding of the resort.
She listened, her golden-brown eyes on his. As if she liked hearing him talk.
As if he might be interesting.
And then during practice, she’d started calling him Captain, my Captain. He had no doubt she meant it as a joke, but the moment she piped up, so did Emma, and finally the entire team started calling him by the nickname.
He could admit he liked it.
So clearly she’d started to mean more to him this week than he’d realized. And tonight at dinner—what was that wink? It nearly took his heart from his chest with one swift motion.
Raina had this serious, almost-bossy way about her, with the way she organized the buffet table. Then, the next moment, she turned quiet, a servant, like she had with her silent but thorough cleaning up after the campfire.
He couldn’t believe everyone left her there alone.
Or that she had thought he wasn’t serious about watching the sunset. He’d only mentioned it twice during practice.
His coffee had gone cold, the wind off the lake carrying a briskness that tempered the humidity of the night. He sat and wondered again why a girl might wish to be safe.
Whatever her reason, Deep Haven was the perfect place to hide while a person figured out their next move.
He knew that better than anyone.
When the sliding door squealed open behind him, he turned to catch his father walking out, wearing jeans and a paint-stained sweatshirt, his fishing hat. He smiled at Casper. “Wanna see if the walleye are hungry?”
Casper dumped his coffee out on the grass and headed down the dock, following his father to the tied-up canoe.
He got in at the stern, let his father take the bow, and paddled them along the shore. He’d fished Evergreen Lake for so many years that he didn’t need directions across the smooth plane of water, glassy and gray in the fading darkness. He held the canoe steady as his dad landed his cast just outside the marshy area, where the walleye would be waking from their slumber.
His father said nothing as he reeled in. Cast again.
Casper lay back on the stern, arms under his head, feet on the gunwales, watching the sky turn to pewter.
“She’s lost, Casper.”
He frowned, glancing at his father.
John didn’t look at him as he continued. “She’s searching, and she looks at you like you could be her world. Be careful.”
Casper sat up. “Dad. Are you talking about Raina?”
His dad reeled in again, checked his jig, recast. “I like her. Your mom and I both do, but I see the way you look at her—”
He did? How did Casper look at her?
“I’m just saying, I think there is more to her than you know. She’s been hurt and I don’t want you to think you can fix her.” He gave a soft flash of a smile. “That’s Jesus’ job.”
Casper nodded. But maybe Jesus could use him to help.
The thought settled inside him, and he carried it with him all the way past his father’s early morning catch of three walleyes, into breakfast with his family, and to church, where he slipped into a pew beside his parents.
But not without noticing Raina, dressed in jeans and a yellow T-shirt, sitting next to her aunt Liza. Third row from the front, on the right-hand side.
I want to be safe.
The words dogged him through the praise and worship, through the sermon, and pressed a hand against his back after the service ended, pushing him through the crowd until he found her.
His heart gave a little jump when Raina’s eyes lit up. “Casper!”
“Hey.” His hands suddenly decided to turn sweaty. As if he had never asked a girl out before. Good grief, his voice had even turned tail on him.
He smiled until he could round it up, then said, “So . . . every Sunday night my family has a campfire . . . and . . . well, would you like to join us tonight?” He could have hung the moon on her smile, her nod. “I’ll pick you up around five, then.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Casper buried himself in the finishing work of cabin seven, hanging a door, installing baseboard in the bedroom, and measuring for the decking.
He came in at four, showered, changed into fresh jeans and a T-shirt, and headed into town on his motorcycle.
It wasn’t until he’d pulled up to Liza’s house that he remembered her words: But if you offer me a ride on your motorcycle, I’m outta here.
He saw them echoing on her face as she came out of the house. Maybe she’d had an accident on a motorcycle once. His stomach clenched as he swung his leg over his bike and walked up to her with an extra helmet.
She looked so pretty standing there, wearing a floral top with jeans and flip-flops. She had a shade of pastel pink on her toes, her hair in a messy ponytail.
“I totally forgot about your fear of motorcycles,” he said with a grimace.
“My fear . . . I . . . Oh. Yeah, my fear.” Her eyes widened but she took the helmet. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t go too fast. Or flip the bike. Or . . . park. No parking.”
Parking?
She smiled at him and put on the helmet. “I’m ready, Captain, my Captain.”
And just like that, the tension in his chest eased. She climbed onto the bike, settled her hands on his hips.
He would have preferred she wrap her arms around his waist, but this would do. For now.
Casper followed her rules—not too fast, no wheelies. He did, however, have to park the bike in the dirt lot of the family’s lodge.
Raina got off and handed him the helmet. She stared at the lodge house like she had at last night’s sunset. “It’s beautiful.”
It was? He saw the roof still needing repair from the fire and the ash-pocked cedar boards, graying and warped with age. He saw tall, angry weeds along the walkway, two stones that had cracked with age, and the ugly paint job he’d done on the red door so many years ago, an adolescent reaction to having to work on a Saturday.
He saw the forest burned and dismal behind them despite the wall of evergreens they’d planted along the far edge of the property. He remembered too well the lick of the fire, charring their resort, a memory only barely blotted out by the handful of framed-in, half-built cabins now dotting the property.
The place looked sickly, feeble. Wanting.
But it had given him a good reason to stick around this spring, this summer, without having to answer any probing questions.
“Have you lived here all your life?” she asked, now taking down her hair, running her fingers through it.
Don’t put it back up, he silently asked, but she wound it against her head, secured it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Evergreen Resort has been in the family for four generations.” He gestured to the pathway that led to the fire pit.
He didn’t know when the family campfires had started, just that he’d spent every Sunday he could remember gathered with his parents and any family members in town, roasting marshmallows, trading highs and lows of the week.
His father had already started a blaze, his mother unloading her basket of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows. Tiger waved his stick in the air like a weapon, and Casper caught it with one hand. “Whoa there, kiddo.”
Tiger giggled, especially as Casper pulled him into his arms like a football and tickled him. Tiger screamed with laughter, fighting him. Casper finally let him down and glanced at Raina. She was grinning, her eyes glistening.
Huh.
Ingrid looked up. “Raina, honey. So glad to see you. Grab a stick. We’re a little ways from roasting, but it’s always good to be armed.”
John smiled at Raina, then glanced at Casper, question in his eyes.
Casper ignored him. “We’re short family members tonight. Amelia is on her way, I think, but Grace is still in Hawaii, and I’m not sure when Darek and Ivy are getting back.” He didn’t mention Owen, mostly for his mother’s sake.
Raina claimed a stick and found a spot on one of the long rough-hewn logs.
He wiped his hands on his pants, his stomach suddenly churning. Okay, this felt weird—her here, as if it were a date.
With his parents sitting across from them. Oh, boy.
Tiger had grabbed a handful of marshmallows. He came over and offered Raina one from his grubby mitt.
“Tiger, Raina doesn’t want that—”
“What are you talking about? Of course I do. Thank you, Tiger.”
Tiger grinned. Casper stuck out his tongue at his nephew.
“Hey, we’ll have none of that, Casper,” Ingrid said, laughing. She brought a plate with chocolate and a cracker over to Raina. “Have you ever made s’mores before?”
“No,” Raina said, taking the offering. “I’m a city girl. This is my first s’more experience.”
Tiger took it upon himself to show her how to spear the marshmallow with the stick, watching her progress while Casper retrieved his own supplies and sat next to her.
“Not one camping trip as a child?” he asked.
“Nope. My dad was a trucker. It was just me and my brother most of the time, and he didn’t have time to take us anywhere. We sometimes went to day camp at a local church, summer school, but never camping.”
John slapped a mosquito. “Welcome to the woods.”
Casper wanted to ask about he
r mother but didn’t know how. He imagined her alone for long stretches of time, her dad on the road. Imagined her coming home to a cold, dark house, afraid in the middle of the night, caring for her brother.
No wonder she longed for people, the team, community.
“Casper says that you are living with your aunt Liza,” Ingrid said, finding warm coals.
“She’s my dad’s sister. He wrote to her and asked if I could move in after . . .” She shook her head. “My dad was dying, and he was worried about me.”
Her dad was gone too?
“What about your brother? Is he in the Cities?”
She held her marshmallow over the fire. “He died a few years ago.”
Oh. Casper glanced at his mother, who was watching Raina with a look of concern. His dad wore a grim expression.
“I’m so sorry, Raina.” He hadn’t meant to stir up all this pain.
She sat there, roasting her marshmallow, watching as the skin rose dark and caramelly, puffy. “Thank you. I’m trying to put it behind me.”
“Do you plan on staying in Deep Haven long?” John asked.
Casper frowned at him.
“I like it here. So far.”
“Dad?”
“I was just wondering if we could count on her next year. For our dragon boat.”
Oh.
Raina laughed. “Only if Casper is captain again.”
He let himself smile at that.
“But if I could, I’d stay here forever—oh!” Her marshmallow flamed and she yanked it from the fire, shook it. It flew off her stick, landing in the dirt.
“That’s okay. I did that one of the first times I roasted a marshmallow too.” The voice came from behind them, light and cheerful. Casper turned to see Ivy and Darek walking down the path.
“Daddy!” Tiger launched himself at them and Darek caught his son, twirling him around.
“I didn’t expect you back until later this week,” Ingrid said, wrapping Ivy in a hug. Ivy wore the sunshine of Cancún on her skin.
Darek came up behind her, Tiger over his shoulder. “Tropical storm,” he said. “They evacuated us three days early.” He set Tiger down. “But maybe I’m back in time to check on Casper’s progress with this year’s dragon boat.”
When I Fall in Love (Christiansen Family) Page 15
