Summer Dreams

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Summer Dreams Page 4

by Delia Latham


  “Yep.”

  Logan waited, but his old friend said no more. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Nope.” The man grinned wide enough to reveal a couple of gaps where teeth should have been in the back of his mouth. “You gotta work it out for y’self, son, just ’tween you and God. But there’s a reason. Yep, there shore is.”

  “That much I figured out on my own.”

  “Then you’re on the right track. Don’t let nothin’ or nobody change y’mind about that, ’cause God don’t do anythin’ without a reason.” Preacher’s eyes lit up like a shaft of lightning. “You got a bite, boy! Pull ’im in, pull ’im in!”

  Logan turned his attention to his bobbing line…

  …and awakened, the old man’s voice still clear in his ears. “Preacher,” he mumbled, and fell asleep again. He slept away most of the afternoon, which was probably why he lay in bed at midnight, with sleep playing a more-than-decent game of hide-and-seek.

  At last, he got up, took a warm shower and made his way into the kitchen in his pajama pants. Maybe a glass of warm milk would do the trick. Come to think of it, his stomach felt pretty empty. Not surprising. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  He leaned against the countertop, eating a slice of reheated pizza. Probably not the best thing to be downing at midnight, but it looked better than any of the other three items in his refrigerator. He drank the milk cold. It might not help him sleep, but maybe it would help fight off heartburn from the pepperoni and spicy sauce.

  Pizza happened to be one of his favorite foods. Did Summer like it too?

  The only way to find out would be to ask her. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’d ask her.

  As he rinsed the plate and set it in the sink, Logan chuckled. Good thing no one could see him grinning like a fool, all alone in his kitchen in the middle of the night.

  He shrugged, still wearing the mile-wide smile. Even if he’d had an audience of onlookers, nothing could’ve kept that kooky grin off his face.

  ****

  Deah was still asleep when Summer slipped out the front door the next morning, eager to check on Freckle.

  She should be hoping his mother had found him, but she couldn’t deny wanting one last chance to see the fawn. Seriously, how often were humans blessed with the opportunity to actually touch a live deer…to pet him and cuddle him, as she had little Freckle?

  He wasn’t under the stairs, and her heart sank. She swept an anxious gaze around the immediate vicinity without spotting him and then let her visual search extend to the edge of the woods surrounding the lodge. If he’d gone in there, she’d most likely never see him again.

  A cold nose bumped the back of her knees.

  “Oh!” She swung around, unable to contain the wide grin that overtook her face. “I was looking for you, little one.”

  Summer knelt, and the fawn drew close. He sniffed her hands, nuzzled her neck. Then he curled up beside her and laid his nose on her legs, his big, dark eyes fixed on her face.

  She stroked his head. “You remember me, don’t you, Freckle?”

  “I can’t imagine him ever forgetting you.” A deep, familiar voice rang out across the morning.

  Summer’s heart responded by racing so fast her hand flew to her chest.

  “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a fawn all cuddled up to a human before, but then…I’ve never seen a fawn around you.”

  Summer caught her breath and raised her gaze to her visitor’s.

  Logan lowered to the ground beside her.

  She kept her hand on Freckle’s back, hoping he wouldn’t be frightened by the newcomer.

  The fawn raised his head long enough to give Logan a cursory glance and then rested it back on Summer’s lap, apparently not overly alarmed by the presence of another human.

  “So how did you come to be in the company of this little fellow, pretty lady?”

  Summer’s face warmed. Such a lightly spoken compliment, made only in passing, and probably not even sincere. Why couldn’t she relax enough to enjoy his company? “He just showed up here. When I came home from Miss Angie’s place yesterday, he was waiting by the stairs to my apartment.”

  “That’s unusual.” Logan’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve lived in Cambria most of my life, and I’ve never seen this happen. Any sign of the mother?” He ran a hand over Freckle’s spots—and over Summer’s hand. He gave it a tiny squeeze and moved on.

  “No. Miss Angie says he thinks I’m his mother.”

  He chuckled. “Well, the lady could be right on target. Look how’s he’s snuggled up to you, as if he belongs there.”

  Freckle raised his head and licked Summer’s arm and then her hand.

  She laughed aloud along with Logan. And then she stopped laughing as panic pinched her heart. “Oh! What kind of mother am I?” Jumping to her feet, she made a dash for Miss Angie’s door.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Logan called, amusement tingeing his voice.

  “I need to feed him. Be right back.”

  Miss Angie met her at the front door, bottle in hand. “I had a feeling you’d be here soon. How’s our little guest?”

  “He’s fine, but I should have fed him much earlier than this.” Summer took the bottle and spun toward the side of the lodge, where Logan and Freckle waited. “I’m so not a Mary, Miss Angie. I can’t even mother an animal properly.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried off to give her “baby” his breakfast.

  Miss Angie’s voice floated on the salty sea air. “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”

  Summer blinked back stinging tears. She refused to cry, especially with Logan watching, but right about now she thought God might have to do a lot more than strengthen her to make her trustworthy with any of His creatures.

  “So that’s how you’re doing this!” Logan grinned as she approached. “I think your baby is beyond ready. He’s been nibbling at my fingers, and even had a go at my ear.”

  Despite herself, Summer laughed. “Well, we can’t have him eating Lodge visitors, can we?” She sat beside Logan and crossed her legs.

  The fawn dropped onto her lap and nuzzled her hand, trying to get to the bottle. Within a few seconds, soft, slurping noises filled the air.

  Logan grinned. “Why, you handled that like a pro.”

  “No, I didn’t. A real pro would have known he needed to eat much earlier than this.” With a sigh, she raised her gaze to meet his smoky green one. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a mommy.”

  “You’re doing fine, Summer. Seriously. This is a whole new experience—at least, I think it’s pretty safe to say you’ve never taken care of a fawn before. You can’t expect to know everything and do it all without a bit of a learning curve.” He nudged her gently with his shoulder. “I’ve heard new mothers say children don’t come with instruction books. Well, neither do fawns.”

  “I guess not.” She returned her attention to Freckle, still a little perturbed.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Logan chuckled. “You know, God thought you were worth snatching out of the deep blue sea, so you can’t be all that worthless.”

  A smile teased at her lips. “He did, didn’t He? Well…Freckle doesn’t seem too angry with me either. Maybe I can still get this right.”

  A low rumble of laughter left a trail of tingles down the length of Summer’s spine.

  “No, I’d say that little guy likes you just fine right now.” He sobered, and let his gaze travel her face. “How are you doing today? You look lovely. The color’s back in your cheeks. I hope you’re feeling no ill effects from your dive into the ocean.”

  “I’m fine.” She gave him a shy smile. “A little sore, but fine. Thank you for saving me, Logan. I really thought I would die out there.”

  “Maybe that’s because, um…you could have. And you’re welcome. I’m glad God put me in the right place at the right time to keep it from happening.”

  “Me too. It’s a bit of a blur in my head, though. Everything
happened so fast…”

  “Yes, it did. One moment you were dancing the most beautiful praise, and then—”

  Summer gasped. “You—you were there? You saw me dancing?” Her hands flew to cheeks gone suddenly hot. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed!”

  With the bottle empty, Freckle stood on legs still a bit shaky and took off after a butterfly that flitted across the yard.

  Unable to look at the man at her side, Summer kept her gaze fixed on the fawn.

  Strong fingers touched her chin and turned her face toward his. “Embarrassed about what? Surely not that dance. That was the most beautiful act of worship I’ve ever been privileged to witness. And I mean that.” He moved his fingers near her lips, paused, and then pulled away.

  Summer’s heart sighed. She missed his touch already.

  “You were worshipping, weren’t you?” Logan’s soft voice seemed to brush against her very soul. She could no more have refused to look at him than she could have flown away on the wind. “That was a praise dance you were doing down there at the edge of the sea.”

  “Yes. My heart was so full…I can’t even explain it. All the beauty around here, the vastness of the ocean…the roaring song of the water…it all just overwhelmed me and I simply had to praise God.”

  He smiled, and something in his eyes turned her insides to a quivering mass of jelly. “That’s what I thought when I saw you dancing. ‘God, what did I do to deserve this kind of beauty?’”

  She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You did not.”

  Logan’s smile disappeared, and the green of his eyes darkened to a deeper shade. “As God is my witness...I did.”

  “Oh!” Her cheeks burned, but she forced her gaze to hold his. “Well, thank you. Were you painting down there…oh, no!” She jumped to her feet, remembering what had taken her to the shore yesterday morning.

  Logan joined her as she hurried off toward the beach, his long stride easily keeping up with her shorter one. “‘Oh, no,’ what?”

  “My laptop. I left it where I was working.”

  “Well, we’d best find it, then. I hope you were above the tide line.”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice hitched. If her computer was damaged, her writing would suffer. She certainly couldn’t afford a new one…and besides, all of her manuscripts were with that laptop.

  “Well, we’ll soon find out.”

  She had no trouble returning to the hideaway she’d found the day before. Her heart in a panic, she clambered over the boulders and rocks and broken seashells to reach it again.

  But the laptop wasn’t there, where she’d slid it into that perfect, natural crevice.

  Summer felt the color drain from her face. “It’s not here.”

  4

  Logan wanted nothing more than to erase the horrified, hurt look from her face. “Are you sure? Where did you leave it?”

  Summer pointed at a narrow crack between a couple of boulders. “I slid it in there.”

  His gaze roamed within the little nook. Her obvious panic had tied knots in his own stomach…all because this beautiful woman whom he’d only met the day before looked as if she’d lost her last friend. After a moment, he grinned. “There it is.”

  “Where?”

  He stepped away a couple of feet, reached into another crack much like the first one she’d pointed out, and pulled out a purple laptop. “Wrong slot, Summer. Maybe we should hang out a shingle, so you’ll remember which hole in the rocks to use next time.”

  Summer’s lips parted in a burst of happy laughter, and Logan’s mouth went dry as dust. God, she’s far too beautiful! If I’m not supposed to be falling for this woman, You’d better do something now…’cause I’m well on the way.

  “Thank you!” Her husky voice had lost some of its earlier timidity. “You—you really have no idea how important this is to me.”

  He picked up the quilt she’d left on the rocks, gave it a shake and spread it out again. “I take it this is yours too?”

  “It is. I can’t believe I just left everything here.”

  He invited her to sit with a grand flourish, and she joined him on the quilt.

  “For the record, you were in no condition to be thinking of laptops and quilts when you left this beach yesterday.”

  She lifted both eyebrows, twisting her lips into a wry grimace. “I guess that’s true. I’m blessed to have left at all, aren’t I?”

  “That you are. Now tell me…what’s so important about that very girlie-looking laptop?”

  To his surprise, a flood of conflicting emotions raced across her face. Doubt, embarrassment, uncertainty…and then a determined resolution.

  “All of my manuscripts are—” She felt along the edge of the computer and pulled out a thumb-sized flash drive. “On here.” Closing her eyes, she briefly folded slender fingers over the gadget, like a little hand hug. As she re-inserted the tiny storage device, she raised serious hazel eyes to his. “I can’t afford a new laptop, so taking care of this one is essential to my career. My only copy of my current work-in-progress is on that flash drive.”

  What was she saying? He would never have guessed. “You’re…a writer?”

  She nodded, biting at her bottom lip as she studied his face. Looking for what? He certainly had no intention of mocking her career field. As an artist himself, he completely understood the importance of a creative talent.

  “Well, come on. Out with it.” He gave her shoulder a playful nudge. “What do you write? Where can I find your books? Tell me stuff!”

  She laughed, and the visible tension in her shoulders dissipated in an instant. “You’re not likely to be reading my books. I write inspirational romance.”

  “Well, now.” She couldn’t have surprised him more. This quiet, shy woman dreamed up romantic stories for others to enjoy? “It appears there’s more to Summer Callihan than meets the eye.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Writing is what I love to do, but I still have to work quite a few temporary jobs to fill in the financial gaps between royalty checks.” To his surprise, she shot him a teasing grin. “I’m not as well-known as I hear you are.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Miss Angie, but…sometimes the lady talks too much.” He laid a hand on hers and tugged it gently. “Besides, we weren’t talking about me. Where can I find these books of yours?”

  “You won’t, not under my name.”

  “Why not?”

  “A pseudonym makes life easier.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t like being in the spotlight. Also, saying you write Christian romance opens up a whole bucket of worms, because most people just don’t get it. They find it hard to separate romance and a physical relationship. I wouldn’t want to get into that discussion with folks very often. I guess the pseudonym just feels right for me.”

  He nodded. “I can understand that. So what name shows up on your book covers?”

  She hiked one slender, wing-shaped eyebrow and grinned. “If I go around telling people my pseudonym, it doesn’t really serve its purpose, does it?”

  “Oh, but I’m not people, just one person. And I don’t intend to tell a soul. I do, however, want to find your books.”

  Summer hesitated, and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t tell him. He said nothing, allowing her to make the decision on her own while he drank in her features. Hazel eyes—leaning hard toward green—like his own. Skin the color of peaches and cream. Full, naturally rosy lips. The outline on the top one seemed a little fuzzy, not quite as precise as the other. A scar? Yes, he thought it was. A tiny, white one, right in the middle—just enough of an imperfection to render those lips perfectly fascinating.

  “Shelby Callan.” A crooked smiled teased at the lips he’d been so caught up in. Her gaze met his in slow increments, as if she’d fought and won a battle with her natural shyness. “But don’t tell me you read romance books. I won’t believe you.”

  “OK, I’ll be honest. Up until now, I’ve never read a
romance novel. But I will at least start one by the time I go to sleep tonight. One of yours.”

  “That’s really sweet!” Had any three words ever sounded so sincere? “But you don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He looked off across the ocean. Removing his gaze from Summer’s face felt necessary to his peace of mind. “Feel like a walk along the shoreline? I promise not to let you fall in.”

  Laughing, she slipped the purple computer back into its crevice, then stood and brushed at her capris, although he hadn’t seen a single grain of sand on them. “I’ll hold you to that. You won’t let me forget my laptop, will you?”

  “I promise to remember.”

  Logan took her hand and helped her descend the boulders onto the sandy beach. How naturally her fingers fit into his! Releasing her once they were on level ground would be the expected action, but…well, she was bound to feel a little nervous at the water’s edge after yesterday’s horrifying experience. He gave himself a mental eye roll. Might as well admit the truth, and it had nothing to do with Summer’s supposed insecurity. He just couldn’t bear to let go.

  They set off along the water’s edge, headed north.

  The raucous, unmusical cries of seagulls was the only sound other than the roar of the waves. Up ahead, a mother and child strolled hand in hand. Now and then the little one released herself from Mommy’s grip long enough to pick something up off the sand. Beyond the two, a haphazard sand castle spoke of earlier activities.

  Logan nodded toward the castle. “Ever made one of those?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve seen them in pictures and on television, but this is the first real sand castle I’ve ever seen.”

  He stopped dead still and turned to face her, eyes round. “Seriously?”

  “Guess I don’t get out much.” She shrugged one shoulder in a dismissive gesture.

  “Well, today’s your day.” He walked faster, tugging her along with him. “You’re going to build your first sand castle right here on Paradise Pines Beach.”

  Summer tripped along beside him at a half trot. He glanced her way and found her studying his expression. When he met her gaze, she burst out laughing. “I don’t know how.”

 

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