by Irene Hannon
“How old are you?”
“We’re all over twenty-one,” the dark-haired kid responded.
“Let’s see your driver’s licenses.”
They fished them out, and Craig scanned the dates of birth. Too bad he couldn’t get them for underage drinking. They were legal—barely. But he didn’t intend to let him simply walk away. Not after hurting Kate. Not after what could have happened.
Taking a notebook out of his pocket, he jotted down the information from their licenses. Then he folded his arms across his chest and pinned them with a scathing look until they squirmed and dropped their gazes.
“Let me tell you boys something. Alcohol and water don’t mix. You—” he pointed to the kid draped in the blanket “—could be dead. So could the captain. Did you get a good look at her face? You hit her hard enough to knock her out. I don’t think I have to tell you where you’d be if you had.
“As for you two—” he addressed the victim’s buddies “—if Captain MacDonald had been overcome by your friend here, and you’d decided to play hero, trust me. All three of you would probably be fish bait.”
The dark-haired kid swallowed. Hard. The middle one cringed. The one wearing the blanket blanched.
Good, Craig thought. Point made.
“In case you boys don’t know, I’m with the U.S. Coast Guard. We risk our lives every day to save people who get in trouble on the water. But we don’t have a lot of patience for stupidity.”
Craig’s dressing down had a sobering effect on the trio. When the dark-haired kid spoke, he sounded contrite—and lucid.
“We’re really sorry about this, sir.”
“We didn’t mean to cause any problems. We were just celebrating the end of the semester and…well…I guess we got a little carried away,” said the kid in the blanket.
“We’ll pay for any damages,” the third one offered.
“Money doesn’t fix everything.” He folded his arms across his chest again. “But it will help with her medical expenses. Her next stop is the E.R. I presume you boys will cover that.”
“No problem,” the dark-haired one said.
“I’ve got your addresses. Give me some phone numbers, including cells.”
As they complied, Craig jotted them down. Tucking the notebook back in his uniform pocket, he jerked his head toward the pier. “I suggest you go home and sleep it off. And you—” he addressed the kid in the blanket, snagging it from around his shoulders as he spoke “—get out of those wet clothes. I assume I don’t have to tell you not to drive.”
“We walked down from the hotel,” the dark-haired kid said.
“Good.” Stepping aside, he allowed them to scramble out of the boat. They took off down the wharf at a trot, disappearing from view in seconds.
That’s when his own reaction set in.
Grasping the rail with both hands, Craig forced himself to take several slow, deep breaths as he faced the truth.
Kate could have drowned today.
Just like Nicole and Aaron.
The very thing he’d convinced himself could never happen again had almost happened. History had come close to repeating itself.
His original instinct—to avoid getting involved with a woman who made her living on the sea—had been sound after all, he conceded grimly.
But it was too late for second thoughts now. She’d already invaded his life—and his heart. Like it or not, they were involved.
How was he supposed to deal with that?
“Craig?”
At the summons, he turned. Kate had emerged from the cabin, but she looked shakier than before as she clung to the edge of the door.
“I checked out my face in the mirror. I wish I hadn’t.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t pull it off. “Wow! What a shiner.”
Craig moved beside her and took her upper arms in a gentle grip. Angling her toward the light, he inspected the bruises marring her creamy skin, his gut clenching. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No.”
He ran his fingers lightly over the swelling on her cheek. “This needs medical attention.”
“They’re just bruises.” She tried to pull away. “I’ll heal.”
He didn’t relinquish his hold. “I’m taking you to the E.R.”
“No way.”
“Come on, Kate. It’s better to be safe. You might have damage to your eye. Or facial fractures. Did you black out?”
“No.” Her breath hitched. “But I thought…he pushed my face in the water and…I know he was just scared…it wasn’t intentional…but my lungs started to burn and…I kept thinking of Maddie.” Her voice broke and tears welled in her eyes. She lifted her hand and swiped at one that spilled over. “Sorry.”
Despite her dry clothes, deep, convulsing shudders rippled through her. And when she dipped her head and drew a ragged breath, Craig knew she was fighting a losing battle to stifle her sobs. While he might be wrestling with new doubts about their future, there was no way he could stand here, his hands absorbing the tremors in her body, and not follow his heart.
Pulling her close, he tenderly wrapped her in his arms. With his hand cradling her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, he gently pressed her uninjured cheek to his chest. “You’re okay now. Take some deep breaths,” he murmured.
He held her until her respiration slowed and her shaking subsided. When at last she eased back, he let her go. “Humor me on the trip to the E.R., Kate.”
“I can’t. The last time I had to take Maddie there it cost six hundred dollars.”
He should have known money was the reason she’d balked. “You don’t need to worry about that. Your customers are footing the bill.”
Her eyebrows rose. “How did you manage that?”
He shrugged. “The uniform carries a certain intimidation factor. And I expect guilt played a role. As it should.” A muscle in his jaw clenched as he regarded her battered face.
“In that case, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get checked out.”
Stepping onto the finger pier, Craig extended his hand to Kate. She took it, grimacing as she transferred her weight from the boat to the wharf.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere else?”
“No. Just achy.” She tucked her arm in his as they traversed Straight Wharf. “But as long as I can lean on you, I’ll be okay.”
Her comment was like a jab in the gut. Because while Craig knew he could give her physical support to the E.R., he was no longer confident he had the courage to make the kind of emotional investment that could bankrupt his soul if he loved—and lost—again.
Two hours later, an ice pack from the E.R. pressed against her eye, Kate frowned as Craig walked her to her door.
Something was very wrong.
He’d withdrawn. Not in a physical sense. He’d stayed with her through the whole E.R. ordeal. But he was distancing himself emotionally.
And it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, Kate concluded. He’d told her once he had concerns about getting involved with a woman who made her living on the sea. She thought he’d managed to put those to rest in the past few weeks. But today they must have resurfaced with a vengeance.
It was ironic, she thought ruefully, withdrawing her key from her pocket and fitting it into the lock. The very event that had convinced her to move forward had apparently sent him into retreat.
“Will you be okay here by yourself?”
At his question, she turned. “Yes. Other than a few assorted bruises and a world-class shiner, the E.R. doc said I’m fine. And since Edith is going to give Maddie dinner, I don’t even have to cook tonight. Plus, she’s close by if I need anything.” She fiddled with the key. “Would you like to come in?”
He hesitated, and she thought he was going to refuse. But to her surprise, he acquiesced. “Just for a few minutes.”
Pushing the door open, she led the way inside. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks. Let’s sit for a minute, okay?”
“Sure.”
She headed for the couch; he chose a chair to the right.
Not good.
She waited, but when he didn’t speak she plunged in. “You’re having second thoughts about us, aren’t you? Because of what happened today.”
He sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “I was going to try to lead up to that a little more diplomatically.”
“Diplomacy, as you’ve discovered, isn’t my strong suit.” Kate leaned forward intently, knowing the next few minutes were going to shape her future. “Here’s the thing, Craig. I’m afraid of loss, too. But despite my grief after Mac died, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss one minute of my years with him. So even though relationships don’t come with guarantees, I’m willing to explore ours. Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. And lonely. Do you?”
Raking his fingers through his hair, Craig rose and walked over to the French doors. She watched as he stared into her yard. The evening shadows had crept in, and the sunlight was no longer able to penetrate the tall, thick privet hedge that insulated her yard from the world. Anguish chiseled his profile, and he swallowed. Hard.
The predictable, steady tick of the antique clock on the mantel was the only sound in the tense silence as Kate prayed Craig would find the courage to let go of fear, as she had.
But when he turned and walked back, stopping behind the side chair, she knew from his bleak expression that her prayer had gone unanswered. A little piece of her heart shriveled even before he spoke.
“I wish I could get past the fear, Kate. But I watched the sea claim one family. It almost took you today. And it could happen again.” His voice choked, and he stopped. “You’re out there every day. I don’t know if I can live with that worry for the rest of my life.”
She folded her hands, gripping them so tightly her fingers ached. “Do you want me to promise never to set foot on a boat again? Is that what it would take to make this work?”
“I don’t know what the answer is.” Distress tightened his features. “All I know is that just thinking about what might have happened today turns my blood to ice and twists my stomach into knots.”
“And calling things off between us will make you feel better?”
At her quiet question, a spasm of pain contorted his features. “Maybe not in the short term. But it might be better this way for both of us long term.”
“Better—or safer?”
“Maybe both.”
Kate looked at him for a long moment. She wished she could change his mind. But this decision had to come from within. For now, there was little she could do except give him space and time. And hope he saw the light.
Resigned, she stood. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
She heard him following, and as she reached for the knob, his hand covered hers from behind.
“I’m sorry, Kate.”
The breath from his whispered words brushed her temple, and she closed her eyes.
Let him go, a voice in her mind said.
Remind him what he’s giving up, her heart countered.
Kate listened to her heart.
Turning, she lifted her arms, put them around Craig’s neck and rose on tiptoe. His hands dropped to her waist, and she moved in closer.
“Kate, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She ignored him.
Lifting her chin, she tugged on his neck until he bent his head and his lips brushed hers.
She half expected him to pull away. But to her surprise, after a brief hesitation, he drew her close and gave her exactly what she’d hoped for.
The kiss of a lifetime.
After a while, Craig eased back, breaking contact. His blue eyes had darkened to the color of the sea at sunset on a cloudless summer day, and longing simmered in their depths.
“You make it hard to walk away.” His words came out husky as his heart hammered against the fingers she’d splayed on his chest.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
The strong planes of his face flexed, as if his rigid self-control had been pushed to the breaking point. “I have too many issues, Kate. And I don’t want to let this go any further unless I can resolve them.” Dropping his hands, he stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.” She could barely choke out the words.
For a brief second he hesitated. Then he turned, walked out the door and closed it behind him with a gentle click, leaving her alone.
Perhaps for the rest of her life.
Unless she could come up with some way to alleviate his fears without giving up the sea she loved.
Chapter Sixteen
The next ten days were the longest of Craig’s life. He went through the motions at work. Paid special attention to Vicki. Conferred with Edith as his mother’s wedding plans were finalized.
But his heart wasn’t in any of it.
And much to his chagrin, Lillian picked up on that within an hour of her arrival, nailing him with an if-there’s-anything-you’d-like-to-talk-about-I’m-available comment.
He’d declined, and much to his relief she’d been too caught up in last-minute arrangements to return to the subject—until the morning of her wedding.
Although the ceremony wasn’t until one, Craig had gotten up early. Long before Vicki awakened. To his surprise, he found his mother at the kitchen table, eating an English muffin.
“Too nervous to sleep?” He grinned at her as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“I slept like a baby. You’re the one who looks like he could use a good night’s sleep.”
His mother might be seventy, but there was nothing wrong with her powers of perception, Craig acknowledged as he leaned back against the counter and sipped the strong brew. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“It can’t have anything to do with Vicki. She’s flourishing. You’ve done a good job with her, Craig. She seems happy and content.”
“Thanks. Having a friend her own age helped, I’m sure.”
“Yes. Edith told me all about Maddie. I met that little charmer and her mother yesterday when we settled Harold into the guest cottage behind Edith’s house. Or Honeymoon Central, as Harold’s calling it.” She gave him a saucy grin. “Anyway, I liked Kate. Edith said the two of you are friends.”
Pushing off from the counter, Craig stuck his head in the refrigerator on the pretext of searching for the orange juice. He’d been afraid his mother would get an earful from Edith. The two of them had become good friends during the past few weeks as they’d consulted on the wedding. “I see her a lot since Edith watches both girls.”
“Hmm.” She nibbled at her muffin. “Heather at The Devon Rose said she could accommodate one or two more people for the reception. She’s used to serving high tea for much larger groups. Would you like to reconsider inviting Kate and her daughter?”
“No.”
She added some cream to her coffee, stirring it until the dark liquid was diluted to the color of rich mocha. “You know, guilt and fear can be very debilitating.”
They were approaching territory he didn’t want to enter. “Isn’t this kind of heavy subject matter for so early in the morning? And on such a special day? Let’s talk about you.”
“I was talking about me. Who did you think I was talking about?” She gave him a shrewd look.
He’d walked right into that one, Craig thought in dismay as he took a seat at the table.
Ignoring her question, he asked one of his own. “What do you have to feel guilty or fearful about?”
“Your dad’s death.”
Frowning, Craig shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
She sighed and picked at her half-eaten muffin. “I never told you boys this, but I always believed it was my fault he died.”
Craig coughed on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. “That’s ridiculous! He had a heart attack.”
“Shoveling snow. He was too old for that, son. But I was more worried about my bridge club ladies falling tha
n I was about his heart. I should have paid the kid up the block to do it.”
She blinked and wiped a speck of jam off the table with a fingertip. “After I met Harold, I felt guilty about falling in love again. And I was afraid of loss. It about killed me when your dad died. So I finally took it to the Lord. And after a lot of prayer, I came to several conclusions. No one is perfect. No one can control everything. And fear not only locks us in the past, it denies us a future.”
Pushing aside her muffin, she took his hand between hers. “I don’t know what regrets you harbor, or what fears are holding you back, Craig. But if I can learn to let mine go and move on at seventy, you can do it at thirty-nine.”
Patting his hand, she rose. “And now I have a wedding to get ready for.”
Six hours later, in a picture-perfect ceremony under a cloudless sky, Craig watched as Lillian Cole became Mrs. Harold Simmons in front of a small group of family and new friends.
His brother, Steve, stood beside Harold as best man, while Steve’s wife, teenage son and preteen daughter clustered nearby. The groom’s daughter, serving as matron of honor, flanked Lillian as her family—a husband, plus three boys ranging in age from about eight to fifteen—looked on. Vicki, in a white dress with a pink sash, stayed close to Lillian as the flower girl. Edith and Chester had linked arms.
Only Craig stood alone.
He was acutely conscious of his solitary status as Reverend Kaizer commended Lillian and Harold for having the courage to begin a journey together at an age many considered too late for new beginnings and pointed out to those gathered that, as Mark wrote in scripture, all things are possible with God.
He was reminded of it again at The Devon Rose as he watched Edith and Chester share a private laugh in one corner, as Harold’s daughter and son-in-law gathered their children together for a family photo and as his brother’s family entertained Vicki, who was enjoying being the center of attention. Lillian and Harold had stepped into the garden for a few more pictures.
Catching sight of him, Vicki skipped over. Close on her heels was the eleven-year-old cousin she barely remembered from the whirlwind stop his brother’s family had made in Washington last year on their way home from vacation in South Carolina.
