“How’s it going?” Landon asked.
“Great. Business is booming.” Scott set his brochures inside the van. “I thought you were helping Sam this week.”
He didn’t want to talk about Sam, especially not with Scott. Maybe the guy had been right about Sam all along. Maybe Landon was just a fool. He shrugged. “Not anymore. I went back to work. It’s busy right now with the summer people and their pets.”
Scott glanced at Landon before rubbing Max behind the ears. “Listen, I have an hour before my next tour. Want to grab dinner at the Even Keel?”
Landon looked away. He’d been hoping to let his friendship with Scott die. They’d grown too far apart. “Not tonight. I’ve got to get home. The yard needs mowing.”
“Come on. It can wait ’til tomorrow. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Did he really want to go home where he might see Sam or Caden in the yard?
“All right,” Landon said. Just keep the conversation neutral, Reed.Work. Weather. Women.
No, not women.
They walked down the sidewalk and crossed the street at the café. Landon tied up Max at the bike stand several feet from a young golden retriever on a pink leash. He petted both dogs before entering the restaurant.
The café, a tourist and islander favorite, was crowded and noisy. He and Scott followed the hostess, squeezing through the closely spaced tables to a spot in the corner. The smell of grilled steak and seafood mingled in the air, making Landon’s stomach rumble. He realized he’d skipped lunch.
They ordered without need of the menu, then settled back in their chairs and talked for a while. When the conversation wound down, Landon watched a toddler at a table across the room throw her cup on the floor. Her mom bent to retrieve it, then the toddler threw it again.
He thought about Caden and how much he’d missed of her life. She was eleven now, and Landon’s dad had never met her at all. Why hadn’t Sam told them about the pregnancy?
He’d lain awake for three nights wondering about so many things. When had she discovered the pregnancy? Is that why she left the island? How had she supported herself and Caden at eighteen with no education and no support? Why hadn’t she told him and his parents? Didn’t she know they would have helped her?
All these years, and he still couldn’t get into Sam’s head and figure out what made her tick. He’d thought he knew her, but he was wrong.
“Are you going to spill it or just sit there staring into space?” Scott asked over the music and rumble of chatter.
Landon pulled his gaze to Scott’s. His friend had known him too long to be fooled. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” He wouldn’t have even come if Scott wasn’t so adamant.
The server brought their food, and Landon was relieved to have a distraction. He ate quietly, hardly tasting his steak. When he finished, he set his napkin in his plate and finished his soda.
“Sam’s giving you fits, isn’t she?”
Landon pushed his drink back and gave him a hard look. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
Scott shrugged. “All right, all right.” He adjusted his sunglasses on top of his head. “I was going to say if you want to talk about her, I’ll try my best to be impartial.” He held up his right hand as if swearing an oath.
Yeah, right. Scott had long since lost his objectivity regarding Sam.
“I’m serious.” Scott leaned his elbows on the table. “Who else are you going to talk to?”
Truth be told, Landon did feel like a bottle of soda that had been shaken vigorously. He was afraid his top might pop off if he didn’t do something soon. “I have friends.”
“Not friends who know your history.”
He was right, though Landon hated to admit it. It was impossible to describe what he and Sam had together, what they’d always had. Scott had been around for all of it, and he knew everything—except how bad her childhood was. She’d never told anyone at school when her mom left or how Emmett treated her. She seemed almost ashamed, and he knew, even as a kid, she would have throttled him if he told anyone.
But he wasn’t in the mood to hear Scott cut Sam down. Especially when he felt like cutting her down himself. He’d never been so angry at her.
“I don’t think so,” Landon said. Some things had to be worked out alone. Even if it meant going home and exploding.
Scott shrugged. “Well, she’s leaving soon anyway. This weekend, right?”
Landon glared at him.
“What? My point is, whatever she’s done, she’ll be gone soon. Then you can start getting your life back to normal.”
Would things ever be normal again? As angry as he was, love didn’t just disintegrate. Besides, he had a niece, and his dad had a granddaughter. Was he just supposed to pretend he didn’t know? “You don’t understand.”
“That’s because you won’t talk to me.” Scott looked at him with his intense blue eyes. “You’re hurting, man. And mad. I saw it the minute I spotted you. And even though Sam isn’t high on my list of favorite people, I want to help.”
Landon thought he saw sincerity in Scott’s expression. But this was a heavy load to drop. His own shock was still present and accounted for. Bailey had been Scott’s friend too, though they weren’t as close as he and Scott. How much more animosity would Scott have toward Sam if Landon told him?
Then again, with Sam leaving in a couple of days, what would it matter? Before Landon could change his mind, he spoke. “Sam told me something a few nights ago. Something that happened that summer before I left for college.” He took a deep breath, stalling.
Scott waited patiently, studying Landon’s face.
“Remember the night of my going-away party? At the yacht club?”
Scott’s eyes shadowed. “The night Bailey . . .”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t a night any of them was likely to forget. “Well . . .” He struggled for the words. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“Go on.” Scott’s calm words urged him on.
Landon cleared his throat. “Sam was upset with me. She’d been distant ever since I told her how I felt about her. She was upset about my leaving, though she never admitted it.”
“I remember.”
In fact, Landon and Scott had argued about Sam a few days before that. Scott dissuaded him from sharing his feelings with Sam, but it was something he had to do. He wondered now if Scott had been right.
Sam had been between them for a long time. He remembered all the times he’d stood up for her. Now he felt like a fool for having done so.
Just tell him, Reed. It’s not going to get any easier. “That night, Sam and Bailey left the party together. I guess she was upset, and knowing Bailey, he wanted to talk.”
“He had a thing for her.”
Thanks for pointing that out. “I know.” His brother had never admitted it outright. He knew Landon loved Sam, but Bailey’s crush was obvious to everyone who knew him. Landon never dreamed Bailey would act on his feelings.
“Bailey took Sam out on the water. They got drunk.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Sam was with him when the boat capsized?”
“Not exactly.” Landon’s mouth tightened. Just say it, Reed. “Sam and Bailey slept together.” Landon looked away. He didn’t want to see Scott’s face. “They got drunk and had sex.” The next part made his stomach knot. “Her daughter is Bailey’s child.”
“What?” Scott leaned forward, his face twisting in anger.
Landon choked back the knot in his throat. “It gets worse.”
“Is that possible?” Scott’s forehead creased as his brows pulled tight.
Landon gave a wry laugh. “Sadly, it is.” He drew in a breath and let go of it, wishing the pain would leave with the oxygen. “Bailey took her back to the dock, but he stayed on the boat. I guess he wanted to sober up. He asked Sam to tie off the boat.” Landon swallowed hard. “But she forgot.”
Realization fluttered across Scott’s face, and he sw
ore. He ran a hand through his long hair, knocking his sunglasses askew, and leaned back in his chair. “How do you know she forgot?” Suspicion dripped from his words.
Landon gave him a stern look. “She was drunk, Scott.”
His friend’s jaw locked tight. Someone dropped some silverware, and Scott spoke over the clatter. “It’s her fault, Landon.”
So much for objectivity. Landon should have known he couldn’t talk it out with Scott. Not when it came to Sam. “It was an accident. And Bailey was as much to blame as she was. He knew better than to drink like that, much less out on the water.”
Scott stared at him. “I can’t believe you’re still defending her.”
“I’m not defending her.”
Scott cocked an eyebrow.
Okay, maybe I am defending her, but it’s not like she did it on purpose. “You’re not giving it a fair hearing,” he said. “She was sick when she got out of the boat.” Scott has a right to be angry too. Bailey washis friend.
“Listen,” Landon said. “I’m angry too, but she didn’t do it on purpose.”
Scott stared somewhere over Landon’s shoulder, his face taut. Landon wondered what was going on behind those eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. He’d only stirred up more trouble.
“Even if it was an accident,” Scott said, “she kept that from your family.” He leaned on the table, his elbows spreading the width of it. “Have you forgotten what it was like? The waiting? Your mom practically had a nervous breakdown.”
Those two days had seemed like a year. None of them slept, praying Bailey would miraculously appear, and they would all laugh about how crazy they’d been to think he drowned. And after his body was found, his parents fell apart, and Landon had nightmares about drowning for almost a year. He hadn’t stepped foot in the ocean since.
“I remember.” He wished he could forget.
“Sam knew all that time? She knew he was gone and she just—said nothing? She let your family wonder if Bailey was dead or alive?”
“She was an eighteen-year-old kid. She was afraid.”
Scott brought his fist down on the table, and the salt-and-pepper caddy jumped. “Stop making excuses for her, Landon. I know you think you have some insight to her soul that the rest of the world doesn’t have, but maybe it’s time to consider that you’re the one with the skewed vision of her.”
Landon gritted his teeth. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand her. All you think of when her name comes up is what she did to you in high school. There are things you don’t know.” Landon looked away.
Scott stood quickly, his chair grating against the floor. “Well, I know this. You’re not man enough to give her what she deserves.” He tossed money on the table. “But I am.”
Landon was on his feet before he could think. He grabbed the front of Scott’s shirt in his fists and pulled him close. A glass on the table clattered over. “Stay away from Sam, or you’ll deal with me.” Landon locked eyes with Scott. He could feel his blood pounding in his temples. So help him, if Scott laid one finger on Sam, he’d rip him to shreds.
Scott’s mouth slackened. He took on a look of nonchalance, an act Landon had seen him pull off before. “Maybe you’re right, buddy.” Scott pulled back, smoothed his shirt, and set his sunglasses in place. “Maybe the two of you are perfect for each other.”
As if for the first time, Landon saw Scott for who he was. A jealous accuser who’d done nothing but heap guilt on other people. Landon lowered his fists to his sides, his shoulders back. “She’s twice the person you’ll ever be.”
Twenty-nine
Sam woke to the low rumble of a mower’s engine. She imagined Miss Biddle’s nephew making stripes across the lawn and knew she had no business being in bed any longer. Beside her, Caden’s form lay still, her mouth relaxed in sleep.
Her daughter had ignored her since their argument, and Sam wondered when Caden had come to dislike her so much. Anger seemed to be her daughter’s reigning theme for the past couple of years. Now, Sam was forced to admit, Caden had cause to be mad. Sam hadn’t realized Caden hoped she and Landon would get together, but her daughter was too naïve to know that was impossible.
Sam slipped out of bed and went to start the coffee, realizing halfway there that she could walk without much pain. At least her ankle wouldn’t interfere with her job. She could show up for work Monday and start getting her life back to normal.
Is that what you want?
She shrugged off the thought. Normal might not be exciting, but it was safe.
She scooped coffee grinds into the filter, filled the tank with water, and plugged in the machine. She’d made a lot of headway with the house the last three days. The floor was completed, and the furniture was moved back into place. What remained was a list of small repairs: fixing the leaky kitchen sink, regrouting the bathroom tiles, defrosting the ancient freezer, and a host of other odds and ends. Few of which she had experience doing.
Sam knew how one small repair could end up taking half a day and hoped everything went smoothly. They would need to be on the ferry by early afternoon the next day to make the bus back to Boston in time for work Monday.
She poured a bowl of cereal, leaving enough milk for Caden, and sat down, waiting for the coffee to brew. The floor looked nice. It could use a couple more coats of polyurethane, but there was no time.
The sound of the mower’s engine escalated, and she realized she would need to mow before she left. And pack. And call Melanie to let her know the house was done. Melanie had filed the paperwork for the listing the week before, and it would go on the market in three days.
Sam had visited Miss Biddle the day before and arranged for her nephew to keep up the yard after they left. It would cost Sam money she didn’t have, but she knew it would pay off in the end.
Miss Biddle’s words flashed in her mind. “Well, honey, I’m sure Landon would keep after it. He does mine sometimes when I’m in a bind.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” she’d said loudly enough for the woman to hear. “And you said your nephew was looking to make extra money.”
“Sure, sure. He won’t mind.”
Sam thought she’d handled it very smoothly until Miss Biddle walked her to the door.
“You know, honey, I don’t mean to butt in, but being old gives one the privilege of speaking one’s mind, so I’m taking advantage of it.”
She took Sam’s hand in her warm, thick one. “A person would have to be blind not to see the way you push that boy away.”
Sam opened her mouth in defense.
Miss Biddle raised her hand, palm out. “I’m not criticizing. Just making an observation.” She squeezed Sam’s hand. “Now, nobody knows better than I about pushing folks away. I’ve done it all my life, so I want you to listen up, okay?”
Sam nodded reluctantly.
“I’ve lived right here in this house most of my life, and you might have noticed that there was never a mister.” Miss Biddle flattened her bronze-colored lips. “Not that I didn’t have a chance, mind you. I was quite pretty back in my guitar-playing days.”
Sam smiled, and the woman continued.
“But I was afraid. I had my reasons—we all do—and I scared away every last man I cared about.” She gestured around the house. “And here I am, all these years later, heart intact.
“But lonely. I’d trade all the hurts I may have had for one true love at my side.” Her eyes drooped at the corners, where creases spread like a fan. “I have no idea what’s gone on between you and that boy, but the two of you have got something special, always have. So I’m going to tell you what I would do if I could turn the clock back thirty years.” She leaned close and said with urgency, “Take the risk.”
Now, the words came back to Sam, whispered in the same forceful tone Miss Biddle had used the day before. Take the risk.
It sounded so easy. Take the risk. She’d almost let the words settle on her heart like dew
on fresh green grass. It was easy for Miss Biddle to say when she hadn’t a clue what Sam had done.
The coffee finished perking, and she poured herself a cup. The smell of the strong brew cut through her daydream and brought her to her senses. Work was the order of the day if she was going to get done before she left.
Sam finished her coffee, then showered and dressed. Landon’s tools were still on the front porch, so she retrieved them and set them on the kitchen floor. Later tonight, under cover of darkness, she would leave them on his porch.
Coward.
Maybe she was when it came to Landon, but he didn’t want to see her either.
She pulled the pliers from the box and opened the cabinet under the sink. The leak had left a water stain in the cabinet board, but it felt solid enough. She turned on the water and waited to see exactly where the leak was coming from. Once she pinpointed the spot, she turned off the water and applied the pliers to the metal drainpipe.
Sam squeezed the rubber grip and twisted, but it didn’t give. The old metal pipes were corroded. She worked at the fitting, straining and twisting, until sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Sam sat back on the rug, gritting her teeth. She wanted to bang the pipes with a sledgehammer, but she knew that wouldn’t do anything but soothe her temper.
You can do it, Sam. Just take your time.
She blew out a breath and picked up the pliers, leaning inside the cabinet, and wrapped the jaws around the connector. Squeezing hard with both hands, she pulled the handles. Nothing.
Sam tried again, but it didn’t budge. Her fingers ached by the time she sat up. It was hot in the house, and she already needed another shower. She walked to the window and jerked up the pane. The smell of freshly cut grass drifted through the screen.
Her gaze wandered out to the yard. Landon strode through her backyard, pushing his mower. His red baseball cap was pulled low, and his skin gleamed under the hot sun. He turned the mower and headed toward the house.
Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle Page 20
