Carly stood and walked her and Chance to the door. Michelle stepped out into the night, then stepped back and gave Carly a quick hug.
“You’re a good mother and Gabby is lucky to have you.”
Carly nodded. “Thanks.”
She accepted the statement, even as she wondered if it could possibly be true.
Just then a white car pulled up and Sam jumped out.
“What happened? Somebody told me Gabby was hurt. Is she okay? Are you okay?”
Michelle smiled at them. “I’ll let you deal with this one,” she said and walked away.
* * *
Michelle drove home and climbed out of her truck. She was tired, her clothes were still damp despite some time in a dryer and she just wanted to go to sleep. While she was glad she’d been there to help Gabby, she didn’t think it was the huge life-changing event Carly did.
“You would have saved her,” she told the dog as she opened the passenger door and he jumped down. “Wouldn’t you?”
Chance gave her a doggie grin and led the way to the house.
Michelle stepped into the kitchen and was surprised to find the lights were on and Jared was waiting for her at the table.
“I heard,” he said by way of greeting. “You’re a hero.”
“Oh, please.” She crossed to the refrigerator to check out the latest sandwich collection. “I didn’t do anything that special.”
“I doubt Carly would agree with you. Or Gabby, for that matter.”
She patted Chance. “He’s the real hero. He jumped in first, grabbed her and started swimming for shore.”
“I always knew you were special,” he told the dog. “Good boy.”
Chance wagged his tail.
Jared walked across the kitchen, closed the refrigerator door, then drew Michelle against him. He cupped her face and slowly, deliberately, lowered his mouth to hers.
The contact was electric and seductive. The brush of his lips on hers, the heat of his touch, the feel of his long fingers touching her skin. She immediately lost all interest in food and found herself hungry only for this very special man.
She wrapped her arms around him, as much to hang on as to feel his strength. Their mouths clung to each other, then she parted and he slipped his tongue inside. He kissed her deeply, arousing her, making her feel soft and feminine.
He straightened and stroked her hair. She stared into his eyes.
“So you finally think I’m ready?” she asked.
“No. I am.”
She laughed. “You were never the problem.”
He grinned, then kissed her again. His hands moved up and down her back before drifting around to the front of her waist and moving upward to cup her breasts.
Sometime later they managed to find their way to his bedroom. Chance had long since gone back into her room, maybe to give them privacy, maybe to dream about doggie heroics. Jared didn’t bother with lights beyond the one in the hall. In the semidarkness, he took off her clothes, then his own and drew her to his bed.
He touched her everywhere, first with his fingers and then with his tongue. He loved her gently, carefully, mindful of her hip. When she was tense with need and shaking with arousal, he carefully kissed the very center of her, flinging her into an orgasm that shook her down to her soul. With aftershocks still rocking her world, he put on a condom, then slipped inside of her and took her for a second mind-blowing ride to paradise.
Later, still naked and breathing hard, they stretched out together. Jared continued to touch her, as if he couldn’t get enough. A nice quality in a man, she thought lazily, her body drifting toward sleep.
The soft click of nails on hardwood drew her back to wakefulness. Chance walked around the room, walked over to her side of the mattress and jumped up. He settled against her bare legs, sighed once and closed his eyes.
Jared chuckled softly, shifting to give her more room. “We’re going to need a bigger bed or a smaller dog.”
“A bigger bed,” she murmured.
“I’ll get one in the morning.
* * *
Carly stepped into the pool telling herself she couldn’t let fear win. Not only would having a panic attack frighten all the little kids in the class, but throwing up in the pool would really annoy the staff.
She felt ridiculous and self-conscious, the only adult in a pool full of nine- and ten-year-olds. Like the kids, she wore a life preserver around her neck, which didn’t help her self-esteem at all. But she was determined. After only two days Gabby had recovered from her fall into the Sound, but Carly was still battling the memories. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her daughter falling into the cold water, saw her going under and knew she couldn’t save her.
The only solution was to grow a pair and learn to swim. Gabby was equally afraid at the thought of learning to swim but they’d agreed they were in this together. Holding hands, they stepped into the pool, shaking slightly, despite the warm water and seventy-degree air temperature. Telling herself the water was barely up to her thighs didn’t make her feel any safer.
The instructor, a petite twentysomething with an easy smile and infinite patience, started the class with safety instructions. While the kids splashed around and shrieked, Carly paid careful attention, as if her life depended on her following the rules. She supposed if she wanted to avoid drowning, it did.
Every part of her screamed to get out of the water. That this was a bad idea, that she couldn’t do it. She thought her heart might jump out of her chest and flop around on the side of the pool, mocking her as she died. She wanted to run away, but she couldn’t do it. Not with Gabby watching her every move.
“Make your way to the side,” the instructor said.
Gabby scrambled to the side and hung on. Carly followed more slowly, every step through the water making her feel as if she was seconds from dying.
Another equally young instructor joined them in the water and demonstrated how they would hold the side and kick their legs and feet. Carly slowed her breathing, grabbed the cement and gamely pushed up her feet to try. Immediately, the sense of being out of control, of drowning, overwhelmed her.
She bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood. She had to get out of here before she sank. They were all going to die. Why couldn’t anyone see that? What was wrong with them all?
Gabby’s body stretched out, her legs drifted to the surface and she began to kick.
“I’m doing it, Mom! I’m doing it!”
“You are.” The words came out like a croak, but Carly did her best to smile.
She wanted to give in to tears, to escape this watery hell, but knew she had to be here. Had to at least be able to swim well enough to not be so deathly afraid. She pushed off again and felt the panic. There was nothing between her and the bottom of the pool but her grip on the side and a life preserver she couldn’t bring herself to trust.
The instructor moved next to her. “Just relax, Carly. It’s not that hard.” A hand pressed up against her stomach. “You can do it.”
Carly felt herself rising a little in the water and began to kick. The hand drifted away but she stayed upright.
“You’re doing it, too!” Gabby crowed.
“I am,” Carly managed. The fear was still there, but determination was stronger. And so was she.
* * *
Michelle and Chance walked through town. The light drizzle seemed to bother the tourists, who huddled in stores and cafés, but Michelle liked the cool moisture after nearly a week of sunny skies. In deference to local laws and people nervous about dogs, she used a leash. Not that Chance strayed far from her side while they were out.
He’d come a long way, she thought, giving him a quick pat. He’d filled out, putting on plenty of muscle. He slept without nightmares, was getting more confident around strangers and showed an intuitive understanding of her moods. She was starting him in an obedience class in September. Once he mastered the basics, he would move into an advanced class right after. She hoped they w
ould be learning the rules of agility training by spring.
Up ahead she saw Sam walking out of a local coffeehouse, travel mug in hand. She called his name. He looked up, saw her and grinned, then started toward her.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a quick hug before squatting down and stroking Chance. “Hero dog. That’s what everyone’s saying, big guy.” He glanced up at her. “They’re talking about you, too, kid.”
Michelle groaned as she stepped under an awning. “People need to find something else to occupy their time. Gabby’s fine. She and Carly are taking swim classes so it will never be an issue again.”
“I heard.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re spending a lot of time in the owner’s suite, mister. Something you want to tell me?”
Sam straightened and gave her a slow, easy smile. “I like her. I like her a lot.”
Michelle was pleased for him and, oddly enough, worried about Carly. “You know you have a lousy track record when it comes to women, right?”
“Yeah, which is why I’m taking it slow. I don’t want to mess up.” He touched her face. “You okay with me and Carly?”
“Yes, but if you hurt her, I’ll take you out in ways that will make you cry like a little girl.”
“Fair enough.”
Thirty-Five
Michelle left her office and walked through the inn. They were having one of those brief lulls, when the guests were out and everything was quiet.
Mr. Whiskers strolled into the south-facing room and gave a plaintive meow. Chance followed. He walked toward the cat, who wound between his legs before rubbing the top of his feline head against Chance’s chest. Together they strolled to the big window seat and jumped up. Chance stretched out first, then Mr. Whiskers moved next to him, half lying on the dog.
Michelle wasn’t sure when the two of them had become friends, but they often spent sunny mornings together, basking. Occasionally she found Chance licking the cat, then enduring a kitty face wash of his own.
“Everyone in this place is weird,” she murmured and headed toward the dining room.
“How’s it going?” she asked Helen as she walked into the kitchen.
“The fruit tart is a hit. It doesn’t seem to matter how many I bake, we sell out. I don’t have any more time to devote to making them, so I’ve been teaching Cammie.”
Cammie laughed. “I’m terrible with crust.”
“It takes patience.”
“It takes a skill I don’t have, but I’ll get there. I can do the rest of the tart with no problem.” Cammie unfastened her apron. “I’m thinking of going to culinary school. Helen’s been talking to me about it.”
Michelle smiled. “That’s great. There are several really good schools, some even in Seattle.”
Cammie headed to the back. “See you later.”
Helen waved, then turned to Michelle. “She has untapped talent, but I will hate to lose her help here. So what’s new?”
“I heard from my lawyer.” Michelle leaned against the counter and sighed with contentment. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
“Good news, I take it?”
“The best. Ellen’s bank is being investigated. There will be a formal report and we’ll know the specifics when it’s made public. The bottom line is the bank has made some personnel changes and some people we know are facing criminal charges.”
Helen stared. “Seriously? Ellen broke the law?”
“Big-time.”
“You probably won’t approve of me admitting this, but I like the idea of her in prison. It comforts me.”
“Me, too,” Michelle told her. “I’m going to consolidate the loans into one, and if all goes well, I’ll be paying them off in a few years.”
“Excellent. Does Carly know?”
“Sure. I told her first.”
Helen nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you two have figured out you belong together. Like sisters.”
Which, Michelle thought, they sort of were.
She thought about how Helen was more than a sensible sort of person, as she called herself. She’d become the backbone of the inn.
“I’d like you to stay,” she said impulsively. “Permanently. Is there any way you’d consider relocating to the island?”
As she asked the question, she realized she wasn’t being impulsive at all. She and Carly had never bothered looking for Helen’s replacement. Mostly because Helen fit so well.
The cook turned to the stove and stirred something on the pot. “Mr. Whiskers and I would like that very much,” she said, her voice a little gruff. “I was thinking we could get a little house with a view of the water.”
“That would be great. You could still bring him to the inn, if you wanted. To hang with Chance.”
Helen looked at her, amusement dancing in her eyes. “A playdate for the pets?”
“Why not?”
“It sounds perfect.”
* * *
Carly carried two plates to the guests and set them down. “Chicken salad on focaccia bread,” she said with a smile. “This is a favorite around here. I hope you love your lunch.”
“I’m sure we will,” the woman said. She looked around, then lowered her voice. “My husband and I have heard so many wonderful things about the inn. We’ve wanted to stay here before, but you were booked. The best we could do was come for breakfast and lunch. We’ve been here three times already.”
Carly’s heart gave a little flutter. “I’m sorry there weren’t any rooms. You should come back to stay with us another time.”
The woman glanced at her husband, who nodded. “We’ll do that. Is there someone at the front desk? Can we check with them after lunch?”
“I’ll be there. We’ll pick a time and I’ll make sure to reserve you a wonderful room.”
“Thank you.”
Carly nodded, then circled the room, checking to make sure everyone had drinks and seemed happy.
It was already the beginning of August. Only one more month until Labor Day and then the quiet of fall and winter. Based on how the past couple of months had gone, she was ready for a break. But happy. Times had been challenging, yet so much progress had been made.
The inn was doing great. Michelle had shared they had just enough money to see them through the quiet months, even with her paying down the mortgages. Most of their guests had already booked a weekend or two over the winter. Leonard’s grant had been extended, meaning he would be staying four more months.
Helen was staying, Ellen was facing serious federal charges and Gabby was happy. Carly offered a little prayer of thanksgiving to whoever might be listening. Her life was good and she was grateful.
She seated two pairs of couples and got them their drinks. Working in the restaurant was a lot of fun. The fact that she only had to take a couple of lunch shifts a week kept it interesting rather than work. Okay, on her list of things to be happy about was her job. She couldn’t imagine wanting to work anywhere else.
Michelle strolled in. “How’s it going?”
“Great. We’re full, as you can see. The customers are happy and yet another couple is talking about booking after the season. Yay, us.”
Michelle nodded, but her attention seemed focused on something else.
“What?” Carly asked. “Is there a problem?”
“No. It’s just… I’ve been thinking.”
“Does it hurt?” Carly asked automatically, then waited for either the laugh or the rant. Either was fine. In truth, she enjoyed arguing with Michelle. They were well matched and honest. Sometimes the honesty was a little painful, but it was always welcome.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle said abruptly.
Carly stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry our parents left us and I’m sorry I didn’t tell what I’d seen. I’m sorry we didn’t stay friends, because that was exactly when we needed each other.” Her green eyes filled with tears.
Carly blinked against unexpected emotio
n. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m the one who rejected you after my mom left. It’s my fault. I blamed you because I couldn’t blame my mom. She’s the one who did it. Not you. You were a kid. We both were.”
“I know. But I slept with Allen. I shouldn’t have. I was just so hurt.”
“I was a bitch,” Carly admitted. “Okay, sure, I was happy someone loved me. Or at least pretended to. But there was a part of me rubbing your nose in it. You had everything—the inn, purpose, Brenda. I know now she wasn’t any great prize, but at the time, she was so much better than my dad. I was jealous of you.”
Barefoot Season Page 33
