Sam’s eyes burned. A stone hardened in her throat, and she pushed it down, just as she had all those years ago. She turned on her side and reminded herself the past couldn’t hurt her anymore. But Emmett’s words chanted at her through the night. Don’t ever letyourself love anyone. Don’t ever let yourself love anyone. Don’t ever letyourself love anyone . . .
Eight
Landon fell into a new pattern the next week. Instead of savoring his work, he waited impatiently for the last appointment of the day, after which he could go help Sam. At first, she’d been resistant, but as time wore on, she loosened up. Their friendship was finding its footing again.
Thursday, as he walked toward her house, she smiled, and he felt like he’d won the lottery. Sam turned off the mower when he entered the yard.
“You should have waited,” he said. “I would’ve done that for you.”
She wiped her hands on her khaki shorts, and he followed the long line of her legs before meeting her eyes again.
“I like mowing.”
Caden ran up then, her hair hanging in wet strings alongside her face. With her brown eyes and button nose, she was a miniature of Sam, and something caught in his gut.
“Can we go now, Mom? Can Landon and Max come?” Caden asked.
“I have to finish the yard first.” Sam looked at him. “We’re taking some food up to Brant Point.” Sam lifted a shoulder. “You’re welcome to come along.”
“A picnic on the beach,” Caden added. “Can you come?”
“It’s about time you took a break,” he said to Sam. “I can finish the yard if you want to grab a shower.”
She quirked a brow, and he quickly added, “Not that you need one.”
To his surprise, Sam agreed to the help. By the time he finished mowing, Sam and Caden had packed a bag of food and changed into bathing suits. They all piled into his Jeep, along with Max, and headed the few miles to Brant Point, where they spread a blanket on the sand. He’d been wanting to ask Sam on a date all week. He’d tried at least a dozen times, but when he opened his mouth, the words stuck in his throat. Dating would change the dynamics of their relationship. He was ready for that, but was Sam?
The sunbathers had left for the day, and the trio had the beach to themselves. After they ate, Landon showed Caden a few of Max’s tricks, and she rewarded the dog with chunks of bread. When Max ran to the water, Caden peeled off her shorts, put on a fluorescent orange swimming cap, then followed Max toward the water.
“Don’t go out too far,” Sam called. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun and said to Landon, “I told her about riptides, but you know how kids are. They think they’re immune to danger.”
They watched Caden plunge into the cool water.
“Is she a good swimmer?” he asked.
Sam nodded. “Our last apartment had a pool. It wasn’t much more than a cement hole in the ground, but she loved it. Used to turn flips off the side and scare me to death.”
“I haven’t seen her flip-flopping down the pier yet.”
“Give her time.” The wind blew a strand of hair across Sam’s face, and it caught between her lips. She tucked it behind her ear. He hadn’t seen her hair down since she’d come back, and he found himself wanting to draw his fingers through the length of it.
Caden followed Max into the shallow water, where Max shook, splattering the girl.
Unlike Sam, Caden was small-boned and pixie-faced, but she seemed mature for being so young. “She seems like a good kid.”
He saw rather than heard Sam sigh. “She is. Lately she’s been kind of snippy. I think she’s going through some adolescent stuff.”
“She’s awfully young for that, isn’t she? What is she, nine or ten?”
Sam stilled. The wind ruffled the corner of the blanket, and Landon stretched his legs, holding it down.
“She’s eleven.”
He looked at Sam, then at Caden. Eleven. He did the math and felt his gut clench. If Caden was eleven, Sam had gotten pregnant right before she left the island or shortly after. Either before he told Sam he loved her or after, depending on when Caden’s birthday was. He didn’t want to know. Had she been pregnant the last time he’d seen her, at Bailey’s funeral?
He could still see her beside his brother’s grave site. She hadn’t looked like herself. She wore her hair down, and it was the only time he’d seen her in a dress other than at the prom. She stood beside him, and when he took her hand, it was steely cold despite the August heat. She was a sickly shade of white. He wished he didn’t have to leave for college the next day, but he’d already delayed his departure for the funeral. His parents wouldn’t hear of him missing the first days of college.
All this time, he thought Bailey’s death had somehow shaken Sam and made her leave the island. Now he wondered if it was the pregnancy.
She hadn’t even let him kiss her, yet she’d slept with someone else that summer. Someone who hadn’t loved her like he had, someone without the guts to stick around and help raise his daughter.
He felt her rejection all over again. Surely Sam hadn’t been in love with someone else that summer. He’d have known it. But the alternative hardly made him feel better.
Sam leaned back on her hands, her chin raised, her face set. She was an enigma. She’d been his soul mate, a mystery to the rest of the world, and yet he always had his finger on her heart’s pulse. But that last summer, everything had changed. Was it his words of love or Bailey’s death or her pregnancy? He wasn’t sure what had taken Sam away from him, but as he looked at her now, vulnerable even with her false pride, he realized he wanted her back enough to risk everything.
Sam watched Caden play in the water but didn’t see a thing. Beside her, she could feel the realization sinking into Landon. Though she sat still as the lighthouse behind them, her heart hammered.
She was about to jump up and go for a swim when he spoke. “I’m sure Caden will come around. She seems well adjusted.”
He was letting Sam off the hook, and they both knew it. She leaned back on her elbows and crossed her legs at the ankles. He would ask who Caden’s father was eventually, but she was relieved to let it slide for the moment.
They talked about a lot of nothing and chuckled about the old times. She dipped in just enough to wet her legs, but the chill in the water kept her from wading in any farther. Caden begged Landon to come into the water, but he hadn’t worn his trunks. Sam wondered why he didn’t wade in as she did. When they were kids, he’d been in the water constantly.
Sam lay on the blanket until the warm air dried her skin. The sun had set by the time Caden came toward them, shivering, and she realized they hadn’t brought a towel. They packed up, and Sam shook the sand from their blanket and wrapped it around Caden. Landon drove them home and parked in his drive, then walked them back to their house, carrying the cooler.
Max ran ahead with Caden, who left him on the porch in favor of a warm bath. By the time she and Landon reached the door, Max was lying down, his head resting on his paws.
“Caden wore him out,” Landon said, setting the cooler down.
“I think the feeling’s mutual.” She opened the door and set the sack inside. In the background, she heard water running into the tub. She turned.
Landon was closer than she realized. The lamplight from the living room washed over his face. He had bits of sand in his hair, and before she could reason with herself, she ruffled his hair, letting the grains fall to the floor. The strands were soft against her fingers, and she imagined them trailing down several inches, touching the roughness of his jawline.
He stilled, and she slowly drew her hand away. His eyes darkened as they homed in on hers.
“I had a nice time tonight,” he said.
They were date words, but she didn’t mind. Mainly because she didn’t have a straight thought in her head. His eyes always told her so much, and now they were saying things she hadn’t heard in so long. Things her barren soul soaked up like a withered
plant.
“Me too.”
He lifted his hand, and her skin tingled in anticipation.
“Mom, where’s my shampoo?” Caden’s voice was a deluge of cold water.
“Under the sink,” Sam called over her shoulder.
The bathroom door snapped shut.
Sam turned back to Landon. “Well, thanks for taking us tonight,” she said.
“Thanks for inviting me along.” Landon straightened, letting the screen door close. “Good night.”
Sam shut the door and leaned against it. She pictured the way Landon had looked at her. Her breaths fell heavily, and her mouth had gone dry. She let herself imagine what might have happened if Caden hadn’t broken the spell. Landon had wanted to kiss her, and the thought put a smile on her lips.
Sam was inside the lighthouse, and through the tiny window she saw her mom in her boat, the current carrying her farther from shore.
“Wait, Mom! Come back!” She screamed the words.
Someone in the boat stood. Landon. Landon was leaving. She called his name, but he didn’t hear her, didn’t see her.
Rain battered her face through the opening in the stone, and she turned to race down the stairs, but there were no stairs. Instead, she was in the yacht club at Landon’s going-away party. His parents were talking to their school principal, and his mom laughed at something.
“Someone help!” Sam called, but no one heard her. “My mom needs help! Landon’s leaving!” She scanned the room for Bailey. He would help her. But she couldn’t find him. Why wouldn’t anyone listen?
Across the room, Emmett lounged on the arm of a chair, a drink in hand. He stared at Sam, the only one who saw her.
She ran toward him and took his arm. “Help me! They’re leaving, Mom and Landon. I forgot to tie up the boat, and it’s floating away.” She tugged his arm, but he jerked it from her.
“I’ll leave you too. Everyone will. No one hears you, and no one cares.” He pushed himself off the chair and walked away.
“Somebody, help me . . . somebody, help me . . .”
Sam’s eyes opened, and the sound of her own breathing filled her ears. Darkness pressed in on her. She looked around to orient herself. The window, the closet, shadows of furniture.
She trembled, wanting to leave the bed but somehow afraid to. The dream had been so real. Emmett and the Reeds. Landon and her mom. The vividness of it hollowed her stomach, leaving a void. And Bailey. Dear Bailey.
Sam stared at the ceiling, afraid to close her eyes again, afraid the dream would haunt her sleep. Beside her, Caden lay still, undisturbed. Sam turned to the window and looked toward Landon’s house. From where she lay, she could see the roofline in the moonlight.
She remembered the way he looked at her earlier, but this time the memory didn’t warm her. This time it chilled her skin, making her shiver under the quilt.
Nine
There was nothing on TV but old reruns and depressing news. She flicked the TV off and settled against the sofa. The nightmare had chased her from bed. While awake, she could rein in her thoughts, but sleep allowed her untamed mind to run wild. Now that she was wide awake, the quietness of the cottage haunted her.
It didn’t help that the smells and sounds of this house jerked her back to her past faster than the snap of a flag. Just being here made her feel like a lonely, motherless child again. She forgot sometimes that she was a full-grown woman with her own eleven-year-old child.
A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped. The clock read 11:32. Miss Biddle would have been in bed at dark, and Sam couldn’t imagine why Landon would come back. She slid her finger between the drapes and peeked out.
The porch was dark except for the little bit of moonlight, but Landon’s silhouette was easy enough to distinguish. She wondered what he could want.
Sam opened the door. “Hey.”
He looked up as if she’d interrupted his thoughts. “Hey. I know it’s late, but I saw your TV on. Can we talk for a minute?”
Sam glanced back toward the bedroom where Caden slept. “Sure.”
He stepped backward, allowing her to slip outside so they wouldn’t let the bugs in. The light flooding the window gilded his face. “I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere next Saturday.”
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t this. “Where?”
“Anywhere.” He cleared his throat, then his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m asking you on a date.”
The hollow spot inside her filled with something pleasant. Hope. For an instant Sam wanted to say yes. But just as quickly, fear funneled into the spot and washed everything else away. Her nerves clanged like pots and pans in the hands of her irritable mother. She wasn’t sure why or where the terror came from, but she didn’t need to understand it to react. She wanted him to take back the question, to set things back where they’d been.
“We’re just friends, Landon.”
He looked away, and the light from inside caught his eyes. When he looked back at Sam, she folded her arms across her stomach. “Come on, you know that’s not true.”
Her pulse skittered. Fake it, Sam. Come on, say something. Anything. She grabbed onto an idea like a drowning person to a life preserver. “Maybe you should ask Melanie out.”
He stared at her blankly. “Melanie?”
Sam shrugged. “You’re two of the nicest people I know, and I was thinking you’d make a nice couple.” Even as she said it, her heart squeezed. She told herself to hang tight. Stand firm. Soon she would be back in the safety of Boston, and this unsettling fear would be a thing of the past.
The way he was looking at her with those wounded eyes didn’t help. Like she’d just slammed a two-by-four into his head for no reason.
“I don’t want to go out with Melanie. I want to go out with you.”
He wasn’t making this easy. On either of them. She looked at the boards on the porch floor. “I don’t think so, Landon. It wouldn’t work.”
“How will you know until you give it a chance?”
Why did his tone have to beckon her like that? She hated the clash going on inside her. Fear of saying yes versus the pain of saying no. It wasn’t a fair fight. “I can’t.”
He studied her, and she shifted, crossing her arms.
“No reason?” His voice was steady and deep—just like he was. “Just ‘I can’t’?”
Sam looked at the dark fingers of the tree limbs reaching into the sky, at the bits of sand that coated the deck, at anything other than Landon’s face. Her mind emptied of any rational response.
His hand lifted her chin until their eyes met. “Still pushing me away, Sam?”
“No.” The word was a breath. Her insides quaked with the turmoil. She prayed her feelings weren’t obvious to him.
He let go of her chin, but his attention remained fastened on her. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Nothing.”
He shook his head slowly. “It’s written all over your face. Just like it was that day out on the boat.”
She didn’t have to ask what day he was talking about. She looked away. How could she tell him he ignited the fear?
He stepped back, and the distance left an empty spot that opened a chasm. Her shoulders sagged.
“You win.” His lips tucked in on one corner. “For now.” He turned and left.
Sam wrapped her arms around herself, guarding against the coolness of the night.
Landon paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Max watched him, his forehead scrunched. Max’s toy frog lay in the middle of the floor, and Landon kicked it. From his spot next to the recliner, Max watched it bounce against the table leg, squeaking as it hit.
“Too tired to chase, huh, boy?”
He stopped by the window and looked across Miss Biddle’s yard at Sam’s cottage. He couldn’t believe she’d suggested he ask Melanie out. He wasn’t interested in Melanie. He only wanted Sam.
He’d wanted her a long time, since th
at last summer. Before that, if he was honest with himself. Ever since Scott had dated her during their sophomore year.
His friend had wanted to ask Sam out for weeks, and when Sam told Landon she was going out with Scott, something happened inside him. He wouldn’t define it as jealousy, more like protectiveness. Scott was a good friend, but he was fickle when it came to girls. Sam had been hurt enough, and the last thing she needed was someone toying with her.
Scott and Sam went out on two dates, and it was after the second that Landon heard Scott pulling into Sam’s drive. It took everything in Landon not to get up off the pier, cross into her yard, and see if Scott was kissing her good night on her front porch. A full eight minutes passed before the old Ford rumbled away.
A few minutes later, Sam had joined him, sitting beside him, her feet dangling in the water. Even in the moonlight, her face was flushed. She sat quietly, chewing her lower lip, still nervous from the date, he supposed. He didn’t know why that rankled him.
“Have a good time?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He hadn’t realized how weird it would be to have Scott dating Sam. Weird wasn’t even the word. He didn’t like it at all.
Sam leaned back, her arms supporting her weight. At fifteen, she’d grown into her long legs, and she’d filled out in a way that made hugging awkward. He’d bet it didn’t feel awkward to Scott.
He shook the thought. He was tired of thinking about Scott and Sam and tired of analyzing his feelings. “Emmett home?”
She lifted her foot from the water and brushed a strand of seaweed off with her other foot. “Nope.” A breeze blew in over the water and lifted her hair off her shoulder. She pushed it behind her ear.
It occurred to him that she’d shed her ponytail for the date. He wondered if Scott had run his fingers through her hair the way Landon longed to now.
He scooted back, taking his feet from the water. “You’re quiet tonight.” She didn’t say anything for so long, he thought she’d let it drop.
Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle Page 6
