by Renee Roszel
“I thought it was Saturday.”
She clattered to a halt, laughing. “Besides that, silly. Today is the Dumpy Festival in Kennebunkport! I’m entering the Miss Dumpy contest. And I want you all to go and cheer me on.”
Raine shifted her gaze from Carl, who had gone pale, back to Cotter. He didn’t appear to be either pleased or displeased. It amazed her how his face could show absolutely no emotion. He suggested easily, “No one deserves the title more. But don’t you have to be a resident?”
She waved off the idea. “I don’t know. But I think I’ll go and at least slip into the parade, I mean, as long as I’m dressed for it.”
He arched a brow. “I think you ought to slip into an asylum.”
She acted as though she hadn’t heard him and hurried on, “Besides, with you being the biggest thing in garbage in this state, they ought to allow me special dispensation, don’t you think?”
His dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t think you want to know what I think.”
She sighed theatrically. “Oh, Cotter! Really.” Then, spreading her arms in grand appeal, she asked the group at large, “What do you all say? How about a day at the festival? It’s a quaint old town. We can eat at the old Perkins Mill and see the steeple bell cast by Paul Revere—maybe even see a play at the Garrick?”
The students began to talk all at once, their voices a deep-pitched rumble of enthusiasm. But Raine could hear Carl’s negative murmur and turned in time to hear Cotter encourage Carl to make the trip. “It would do you good to get out.”
“No.” Carl’s voice was nearly a whine. “I can’t see being wheeled around. It’s too much of a burden and I’m not up to it myself, either.”
Raine pulled her lips together, feeling pained to witness this man’s despair, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from Cotter’s solemn face. He leaned closer and whispered, “Look, Carl. Nordie’s doing this for your sake. Are you going to break her heart?”
There was a pause, but Raine didn’t turn away from Cotter to see how his words had affected Carl. She could only stare into his troubled eyes.
After a minute, Carl spoke just above a whisper. “I’m going nowhere!” He backed himself away from the table with a single motion and wheeled quickly out of the room.
“Carl?” Nordie pivoted around to call after her brother, but he didn’t stop and was soon gone. Turning back, she shot an apprehensive look toward Cotter, who only shook his head sadly.
Raine clasped her hands tightly in her lap as she watched Nordie absorb Carl’s rejection. Nordie regained her composure and said, “Are we ready?”
The other students had begun to murmur enthusiastically, and Raine couldn’t bring herself to impose work on them on a Saturday morning. She supposed they could get it all done tomorrow if they worked especially hard. So, instead of protesting, she replied, “It sounds like a unique experience, Nordie, but shouldn’t you eat first?”
She shook her twist-tied curls. “Naw. Had grapefruit earlier.” Unable to keep from responding to Nordie’s antics, Raine smiled. She then turned, to see Cotter stand up. “Are you going, Cotter?”
He registered a slight surprise at the question before shaking his head. “I don’t want to leave Carl here alone.”
She stood as well. “Oh, why don’t you go?” She knew he’d spend his time alone in some dark room. “You know, your advice to Carl is just as good for you. It would do you good to get out. I can stay here with Carl.”
His look was startlingly direct. “And add another stray to your collection? No. You go and have a good time. Carl’s not your problem.”
“But you’d enjoy the festival and I could use the time to work.”
“If you really want to stay and keep Carl company, Professor Webber,” Nordie interjected hopefully, surprising Raine at her sudden nearness. “Cotter? Why don’t you come with us. Professor Webber and Carl will be fine—alone.” She emphasized the last word.
Cotter’s smile disappeared. “Nordie, I’d like to have a word with you out in the hall, please.”
“My slip showing?”
Cotter flicked his index finger at her as he headed for the dining room entrance, apparently expecting her to follow obediently.
Turning to Raine, Nordie whispered, “He likes to assert his authority in front of guests. You understand.” Leaving Raine speechless, she clanked off hurriedly after her brother.
Cotter was standing with his legs braced wide and his arms folded across his chest when she caught up with him just outside the den door. “What is it?”
He addressed her firmly. “I’m not going to leave Raine and Carl here alone. You know I gave Hanna and Lys the day off.”
Nordie jutted out her chin. “Of course I know all that. Good grief, Cot. It could be so perfect! They could get to know each other. But in order for them to do that, you can’t be hanging around flexing muscles.”
His tone was one of extreme exasperation. “Nordie, don’t you understand…?” He let his words drop away. Of course she didn’t understand. He hadn’t told her the extent of Carl’s injury and about his depression. Almost losing Carl had been a terrible blow to Cotter, bringing back the tragic loss of his parents with frightening clarity.
Changing the mood somewhat, he put a reassuring hand on Nordie’s shoulder. “It’s just that I have some work to do.”
“Oh. Well…” she said, relenting, “I guess it’ll be okay.” Raising a warning finger, she added, “If you stay out of sight and leave them alone.”
He snorted derisively. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll try, huh?” She eyed him suspiciously. “I suppose that’ll have to do. It is your house.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” He gave her a casual jab. “Now, get out of here.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get physical.”
Raine and the young men had begun to filter into the entry when Cotter and Nordie reached them. “Well, guys—” Nordie nodded good-bye to Raine as she took Bill’s arm and guided him toward the door “—we’d better get ourselves on down to the festival before they run out of beer.”
Raine called after her, “Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Sure.” Nordie flashed a sparkling smile through green lips. “Nordie Hunt is always prepared—like the proverbial Girl Scout.”
“The color’s right, anyway,” Cotter interjected mildly.
Without missing a step, Nordie waved at him over her shoulder. “I’ll ignore that. I know how cranky you can be when I get the last grapefruit.”
RAINE SAT LISTLESSLY in the deck chair, watching the ocean, and tugged absently at the scooped neckline of her bathing suit. She didn’t swim often or well, and bathing suits seemed to her a poor substitute for real clothes—not quite appropriate for public exposure.
In the past hour she’d counted seventy-three sea gulls, and she couldn’t remember the number of waves that had washed up onto the sparkling white sand. Her eyelids had grown heavy, and she had to work at staying awake. She didn’t know why she was working so hard at something that didn’t really matter. Carl had been sitting by the pool when she’d come out. But he’d stayed for only fifteen minutes, while she’d struggled to make conversation. Then he mumbled that he was going to his room. To be truthful, she was relieved when he left. Poor Carl. She sighed out loud. But it wasn’t Carl she was thinking of now. It was Cotter. She hadn’t seen him since breakfast, and she pictured him brooding in his den.
“Well…” she said to herself aloud; “if I sit here much longer, I’ll only get depressed myself.” She swung her legs off the chair and took one final tug at the suit as she headed down the steps toward the beach. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and squinted at the blue sky and strong sunlight.
Accustomed to solitary walks, Raine felt exhilarated at the prospect of exploring the strip of beach ahead. From where she stood, it looked as though the beach narrowed to almost nothing at the point. She felt sure that on the other side there was a secluded stretch, and s
he liked the idea of seclusion; if she did decide to sunbathe in the skimpy suit, she would be sure of her privacy. One thing she didn’t plan on was swimming. She’d never been in the ocean, and she certainly didn’t intend to go in now unless there was someone else around who could keep a watchful eye over her. It looked to her like a big place in which to drown.
The closer she got to the cliff, the surer she was that she’d been right about the place. The only problem was that she would have to wade out about knee-deep into a rough area where the sea broke against the rocks. But across the obstacle, around the bend, she could see a wide patch of beach. With a measure of resolve, she straightened her glasses and set out through the shallow water.
“Oooff!” she groaned as something hit her in the stomach with such force that she lost her footing and toppled backward into the water. She inhaled as her head went under, and salty brine washed over her. Flailing wildly, she coughed and spluttered, unable to get a breath.
She felt strong arms lift her from the water and instinctively grabbed for her rescuer. Her eyes burned. Looking up into the bright sun made it worse, so she shielded her eyes behind a warm, wet shoulder.
As her body was gently lowered onto the sand, her rescuer uttered reassuring words. “You’ll be okay in a minute.”
She took in a gulp of air, registering that the voice was oddly familiar. Her eyes flew open to see Cotter’s blurred face close to her own. As he released her, he sat back and looked at her, his expression closed in concern. “Professor, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Here—” he held out a blurry hand “—I rescued your glasses.”
“Oh, thanks,” she whispered hoarsely, slipping the glasses on with shaky hands before gingerly touching the bruised skin of her stomach. “What did you hit me with?”
He shook his head in self-disgust and motioned toward the water where a full garbage bag was sinking slowly below the rough surface. “Trash.” He leaned forward. “I was cleaning up the beach. The easiest way to get the bags across the rocks is to toss ’em. I didn’t see you coming.” He saw her hand resting protectively over the thin fabric of her suit. “You’re not cut, are you? There was some broken glass in there.”
She looked down at the black nylon. “No—no.” She leaned back on both elbows, inhaling deeply. Her throat felt raw, but at least now she could breathe again. Still feeling slightly dazed, she watched him through narrowed eyes. “I guess I’ll live.”
The glint of unease that flickered in the depths of his eyes disappeared. “I’m glad.” He sat down on the sand beside her, and Raine noticed for the first time that he was wearing a pair of khaki shorts, now soaked and clinging to his hips and thighs. He wore no shirt, and seawater glistened on the dark mat of hair that covered his chest. He certainly looked all man—broad shoulders, long legs, deep tan. With an effort she shook off the errant thought, pulling her eyes back to his face. He was not smiling, and she noticed with interest that he seemed lost in thought, as if something else were occupying his attention.
When she realized what, she hurriedly, sat up, self-consciously tugging at the suit to recover her modesty.
“Here, Raine,” his fingers closed around her wrist, and she found herself being pulled to stand. “Let me help you up. Do you think you can walk now?”
She was steadier than she had thought she would be. “Yes…of course.” She looked out to where the bag had been floating. Just the top was visible as it crashed against an outcropping of rock. She nodded toward it. “Maybe you’d better get that before it gets torn up and makes a mess.”
He nodded, and with several long strides, he reached the bag and dragged it onto the beach, dropping it beside two others. When he looked at her again, she shook her head at him, smiling tentatively.
“What’s funny?”
“You’re taking a busman’s holiday—coming out here on a Saturday picking up trash.”
“Carl was so depressed, I gave him something so he could sleep.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “It’s frustrating not to be able to do more. Physical activity helps me take my mind off…everything.”
Her heart went out to him. Without thinking, she touched his hand. “Do you want to talk about it, Cotter?”
His sad smile was appreciative as he shook his head. Taking her elbow lightly, he suggested, “Why don’t we walk.” Turning her away from the point, he asked casually, “Do you have a boyfriend, professor?”
The question took her by surprise. “Me? No.” She could have told him about Jerry, her “almost.” He’d pursued her for a couple of years when she’d been a graduate student at the University of Arizona, but somehow, her work had always seemed to come first. And eventually, Jerry lost interest, concluding that Raine wasn’t ready for a relationship. And that had been pretty much how it had gone ever since; her work interested her more than any man she’d met.
For some reason, she just hadn’t felt…whatever it was that she was supposed to feel. In the past few years she’d decided that the element needed to make a woman fall in love just hadn’t been given to her. Maybe her abundant intellect had something to do with it—She used her studies and, later, her work, as a convenient excuse not to get involved and not to risk feeling strong emotions for a man.
Hoping that the oppressively long pause hadn’t been too revealing, she cast a furtive glance toward his profile. “I’m not involved with anyone right now,” she said. Now it was Raine who seemed distracted, and Cotter realized he’d touched on a sensitive area.
He changed the subject abruptly. “How about a swim?” He halted, turning to face her.
With difficulty, she met his eyes. “I—I don’t swim well, and I’ve never been in the ocean.”
“Then you ought to try it.”
She looked into his eyes and felt the tension of the moment before drain away. “I suppose…if you promise there aren’t any sharks.”
His smile was fleeting but amiable. “I promise.”
She shook her head, an involuntary smile forming on her lips. “Do you lie much?”
He frowned slightly, feeling lousy about the elaborate deception. “Only when cornered,” he admitted. Trying to shake off his feeling of guilt, he added wryly, “But I never lie about sharks.” Lifting her glasses from her nose, he laid them on a rock before taking her hand. “Come on,” he coaxed.
She followed him reluctantly, until the water was swirling around her shoulders. “Cotter?” she queried.
“Yes?” He inclined his head toward her, feeling a tug of compassion when he saw the fear in her eyes. He imagined the ocean could seem overwhelming to a child, but he was touched by Raine’s genuine sense of awe at the ocean. It struck Cotter as a metaphor for her awe at everything outside the protected world of academia. She didn’t often venture outside the university—he would have to remember that.
“How much farther are we—” She felt a sharp pain. “Cotter! I think something’s bitten me!”
Cotter’s arms came around her automatically. He held her securely to him, sure that she was reacting more to fear than anything else. To reassure her, he began, “Raine, I doubt…”
“It got me just above the ankle.” She reeled, pressing herself against him.
He tried a lighter approach. “It couldn’t have been a shark. I would have seen—”
“Then it was a jellyfish or an eel!” she cried weakly. “It hurts.”
Completely baffled, but becoming alarmed, he held her tightly and lifted her from the water. She clung to him, feeling vulnerable, but trusting him to examine the wound. “Raine—” the exertion made him a little breathless “—we’re out of the water, but I don’t think…” He looked down and saw the source of her discomfort. Several spines had lodged in her ankle, and the skin around the punctures was irritated and beginning to swell. “Sea urchins—nothing to worry too much about. Bear with me while I take the spikes out; you’ll be fine in a minute.”
He deftly removed them while Raine did her best not to flinch. When
he was through she felt compelled to explain—in fact, to rationalize—her fear. “Excuse me, Cotter. I’m just so unused to the water.” She looked up embarrassed.
When their gazes met, the contact was complete. “Everybody’s afraid of something.” He was looking at her, but he was imagining quite another setting, far removed from the present circumstances. “With me, it’s fire.” The words came out just above a whisper.
She searched his dark eyes, wondering where he’d gone. Once again she became very aware of how strong his presence was and found herself feeling terribly drawn to him as his empathetic response comforted her. An urge to return his confidence—to pay him back for his kindness—overwhelmed her. “You know what’s really strange?” she asked softly.
Her question brought him instantly back, his eyes alert but guarded. “What’s that?”
She winced, biting down hard on her lip. She’d taken him away from his private thoughts now and began to wonder about whether or not to continue.
Cotter’s face closed. “Mind if we sit? I’m a little weary.”
Feeling weak herself, Raine joined him on the sand.
He bent one leg and curled an elbow around it. The movement brought them so close that she could feel the radiant heat of his arm near her shoulder. Almost in a whisper, he said, “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Raine.”
“I know, but it’s important to me that you understand how I feel, Cotter. I’m comfortable with you.” She considered her words. “I’ve never felt this way with a man before.” She paused briefly, as his face registered distress. “Oh.” She pressed her hand on his forearm. “You’re a caring person, Cotter. You’re easy to talk to. I’m glad we’re here, together. Tell me,” she coaxed with a shy smile, “aren’t you surprised at how things are working out between us?”
He watched her for a long, troubled moment before he took her hand into his. She was too sincere a person to lie to, and he hated himself for having been manipulated by Nordie. In an unhappy tone he muttered, “Yes, very surprised.” At least that was true.
