She awoke with a start, the dream still vivid as she squinted, one eye slightly open. She winced in pain as she tried to move her arm, slowly becoming aware that it was still in a brace. The prickles all the way to her shoulder let her know it had fallen asleep in whatever position it had been in, and she wiggled her fingers to hasten the process of removing the numbness.
She was no stranger to the pain of racing injuries, but never, even in her dreams, had she re-enacted a fall with a different outcome. She felt her face flush as she remembered the ending to this one. How the heck did that darn doctor get in it? He hadn’t been helpful at all, even though exceptionally handsome. She shook it off — he had no business in her life or her dreams, and she was in a hurry to get the quad back on the road — with her on it.
Her muscles screamed as she whipped the covers away with her good hand and swung her legs over to the side of the bed. She breathed in deeply, vaguely noticing the smell of the salty air and realized she was in the casita they always rented right on the water of the Sea of Cortez. The house was formed around a huge, circular room made of the ladrillo brick that was a dark red, creating a coolness against the hot desert sun.
Gingerly standing to make sure her legs would hold her, she opened the window that looked east over the white sand and to the crystalline blue waves that lapped against the shore quietly. Nice, she thought, but not on my agenda today. She turned away just as a flock of pelicans flew by, their search for daily fish starting early.
She grabbed the bottle with the pain-killers, shaking out a few, tossing them back with the bottle of water next to her bed, and looked up at the knock on her door.
“Hey, Jess, you up yet?” Cade’s voice startled her, and she realized she hadn’t gotten dressed.
“Be right there, Cade. I need a quick shower,” she said as she grabbed her jeans and riding jersey.
“Breakfast is ready and we need to talk. No time for that. Dad’s waiting. Hurry up,” he said, his voice trailing off back toward the big kitchen in the center of the house.
“I’m at least going to brush my teeth. Hold on,” she shouted at him, moving toward the bathroom they shared in between their rooms. She looked longingly at the big glass block shower, its interior walls covered floor-to-ceiling with inlaid, smooth beach pebbles, thinking how good it would feel to wash all the desert dust from her body. She’d been exhausted when they’d gotten home the night before and had barely been able to splash water on her face before falling into bed.
She’d not been able to do a very good job of it with one hand, and she noticed the streaks of dirt still covering her as she looked in the mirror on the wall, also surrounded by shells. Grabbing a wash cloth, she was able to at least get the final streaks off her face and neck, the cool water waking her up a little more as she wondered what the rush was all about. Teeth brushed and face, at least, streak free, she grabbed at her brown, shoulder-length hair and wondered what she could do with it — one hand being unavailable. She grabbed a pony-tail holder and tried to put it up, but her hand was still tingling, mostly numb, and she gave up the effort to calm her curly locks. She grabbed a white elastic headband and threw it in her hair — at least that would keep it out of her face.
Sitting on the bench outside the glass block shower, she fumbled with her jeans, not quite able to slip them on. She knew she’d have an equally difficult time getting her racing jersey on and grumbled to herself as she grabbed a bright pink skirt she’d brought in case it was really hot, managing to pull on a loose, white tank top before slipping on flip-flops. My race boots are going to be a bear to get on with one hand, she thought, hoping that no one at breakfast would notice the difficulty she was having, and it seemed like forever before she got herself put together.
Her stomach grumbled as she opened the door to her bedroom and walked to the kitchen. She’d spent a fair amount of time in Mexico, but the smell of chorizo and eggs always made her famished. The spicy Mexican sausage was one of her favorites, and rolled up in a tortilla with eggs and hot sauce — even better.
She was so hungry she didn’t notice two sets of eyes staring at her as she served herself a plate — with her back to her brother and father — furtively using only one hand. As she came around and sat down at the table to eat, the warm tortilla pierced through a bit of the numbness as she picked it up and tried to scoop the chorizo and scrambled egg mixture into it. Her fingers weren’t cooperating, though, and she’d only managed to move the eggs around as they skidded from one side to the other before her fork clattered on the ceramic plate and she sighed in disgust.
The same two sets of eyes were still on her as she looked up. “What are you looking at?” she asked, seeing the alarm on the faces staring at her.
Her twin and her father exchanged quick glances before looking down at their own plates and resuming eating. Her father cleared his throat, placed his fork on his empty plate and sat back into his chair.
“We have some things to talk about, young lady,” he said as she met her brother’s gaze before he quickly looked away, got up and started clearing the table. “What the doctor said last night is not to be taken lightly.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it just as quickly as her father held up his hand, palm out, stopping her from voicing any opinion. His face was dark and clouded, and she knew from experience it wouldn’t be smart to try to speak until he had said what was on his mind.
“I know you’ve had your heart set on this race for a long time. We have, too, both your brother and I and the other sponsors. Hell, you were our bright light for this year. However,” he continued, “no single race is worth a permanent injury, Jess. Your brother and I have talked, and we think you should just disqualify yourself due to injury and try again next year.” He folded his napkin, placed it in his lap and folded his arms across his chest. Not a good sign.
“Dad, I’ll be fine.” Her heart clenched as she thought of all that training time going to waste, and how disappointed the crew and sponsors would be. “I want to get in the garage and start working on the quad. We only have a week and it needs to be in shape quickly so I can train some more.”
“I don’t think you’re listening to me. I haven’t changed my position since last night.”
Her frustration formed into tears that threatened to spill — something she refused to do in front of her father. “I can do this. Please.”
“Jess, you can’t even get eggs off your plate. How are you going to fix a quad, let alone ride one?” he said, his voice rising. His brows were furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “I know you have always gotten your own way, and it’s probably my fault. But this is non-negotiable.”
“Dad, please. You asked that doctor to come help, see if I could get my arm back in shape to ride. Can we wait and see how it goes?”
“He didn’t sound too encouraging about that possibility,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him. That was a good sign, Jess knew, so she pressed forward.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll stay out of the garage so you and the crew can fix the quad if you’ll re-evaluate about letting me ride when it’s done. It should take a week, right, to get all the parts? We should know by then how my wrist is.” Never one for being too girly, she thought this required everything in her arsenal. She smiled her biggest smile and made a face, the one that always made him laugh and had since she was a little girl.
From the kitchen, Cade said, “No fair. That’s cheating.” She turned just in time to catch the grin he wore before he turned to start putting things back in the refrigerator. He’d always been on her side and seemed to be even now.
Her father let out a sigh with a whoosh, shaking his head as he said, “I don’t know why I do this. Okay, deal. You do everything the doctor says, we fix the quad, and we’ll decide in a week what to do. Which will be what’s best for you, Jessica. Come on, Cade, the guys’ll be in the garage by now. Let’s get on it.”
She watched as the door shut behind
them, waiting until it was completely closed to try to rub the numbness out of her hand as she grimaced. She breathed a sigh of relief as she’d won this battle — realizing clearly that she was far from winning the war if her hand didn’t cooperate. Still hungry, she grabbed an apple, feeling positive she could eat that with one hand. She turned to the big French doors behind her and looked out to the water as she felt the warm sea breeze on her face.
Great, she thought. An entire week with absolutely nothing to do. She’d never had that much time on her hands and couldn’t even imagine how to occupy her days as she was banished from the garage. She tossed the apple core in the trash and decided the best start might be to take a shower. Or to at least try.
Chapter 10
One cup of coffee was all he had time for if he wanted to get to Jess’s on time. The sun over the water had woken him early — early enough, he thought, for a quick swim in the warm water, so he’d headed down to the beach.
The cool breeze played on his face as he set his to-go coffee cup in the sand, wiggling it down next to his towel so it wouldn’t fall over. He stretched his arms to limber up a little bit. Kicking off his flip-flops, he found a little entry to the beach that was all sand and walked toward the water. As he walked, he noticed the small, round jellyfish that had washed up on the shore and avoided them, although he knew he didn’t need to. These were beautiful, a deep blue that reminded him of jelly beans, but had no sting to them.
Sighing as he wiggled his toes in the warm sand, he felt the temperature change immediately when he made it to the tide line and onto the hard, wet sand between the lapping waves. The tide range at Playa Luna, the south campo where his family’s house was, could be extreme with a full or new moon, one of the most extreme tides in the world. Today, though, the tide was pretty far in — perfect for a swim out and back before breakfast.
He walked into the water, employing the Baja shuffle that had been ingrained in him since he was a kid...shuffling his feet as he walked into the waves, hoping that the sting-rays wouldn’t like it and would swim away from him. The water was cool on his legs, and as he got deep enough to swim, he jumped fully in, enjoying the cool sensation on his skin.
As he got in his swimming rhythm, the cool water rushing past him as he swam toward the lighthouse, he found himself turning over the events of the night before in his head.
The girl had been so stubborn and hell-bent on racing. And her father so completely adamant, in the office. He thought how surprised he’d been when her dad had threatened to pull the plug, and hoped maybe he’d have an ally in him.
An ally? What do I care? I don’t even know this woman, he thought, his arms spinning rhythmically as he kicked harder against the waves. He did remember thinking that she was striking to look at; not the classic California girl with blue eyes and blonde hair. No, she looked a little more Mediterranean, her dark eyes and curly brown hair looking as if they’d be at home in Tuscany or Brazil. Exotic.
But that fire in her eyes gave him pause. She looked determined to not only ride in this race, but win. And if that was the case, he didn’t want to have too much to do with her. It wasn’t his race, and it wasn’t his problem.
He turned on his back, working his backstroke, and looked at the cliffs of Playa Luna, the houses dotting the top and the waves crashing onto the sand below. The colorful flags flying over the houses always made him chuckle. A certain type of person gravitates to this spot, he thought, chuckling at the banners ranging from butterflies to peace signs to boxer shorts, He shook his head and smiled, realizing that he was one of them now, realizing in an instant that he’d always wanted to be...different. With a life that he could lead more freely without being a slave to credit cards and commutes.
He glanced at his diving watch and realized he was running late. He headed back to shore, dried himself off quickly and headed up to the house.
The cool water of the shower raining down on Jess’s head had helped a little with the fuzziness in her brain. As the dust and dirt slid off her body, she let herself relax and the flood of memories hit her all at once. The first quad she’d ever ridden, when she was still so tiny her feet didn’t reach the ground and her father had to put her on and take her off. The exhilarating rush she’d felt the first time she’d won a race. The glow on her mother’s face at the finish line. The panic she’d felt when she’d heard of her mother’s accident. Her father’s stoic insistence that they continue to race — and to win — to make her mother proud. Her own determination to win this particular race.
The doctor had said she was determined. But when he’d said it, she clearly sensed that what he meant by it was not the same as when her father said it to her, over and over. Not a compliment from the doctor, by any means. The flutter of butterflies in her stomach returned with the memory of his sandy hair and green eyes, boring into her as he gave her the bad news about her wrist. She’d been surprised that his touch had made her tingle. She was around men all the time, day in and day out, but hadn’t had that experience before. But he clearly didn’t understand or respect her choice to continue to race, and since it was non-negotiable in her mind, she dismissed the thought of him. What do I care what he thinks about me, anyway?
She shook her head, turning the water off and reaching for her towel. Racing was all she’d ever known, like her parents, and now wasn’t the time to second-guess what had been her pleasure and her passion — and her responsibility.
She felt a twinge of pain in her wrist as she dried off. Her right hand was virtually useless to her, and she gingerly pulled on a sundress, the cool, pale pink cotton brushing lightly against her clean skin. Her lips curved up into a smile as she realized why her brother had made the comment he did about her looking like a girl. Down in Baja was the only place she ever wore a dress, and it had begun only as an effort to stay cool on some of the hotter days. Even by the ocean, it could get hot and humid if there wasn’t a breeze — and she was grateful that today, there was a delightful one.
Pulling a quick comb through her hair, she grabbed a pink headband she’d hastily stuffed in her bag. No wonder Cade didn’t recognize me. I barely recognize myself. With a final glance in the mirror and a quick rub of her wrist, she slid her feet into flip-flops and headed toward the garage.
Kyle hopped out of the shower, quickly threw on shorts and t-shirt and grabbed the keys to the yellow Manx, the dune buggy he’d fixed up and given it to his mom for Christmas. The odd little dune buggy still ran, even though that had been more than a decade ago, when he’d still been in high school. Even though it had a roll bar, he’d stopped driving it completely after Maggy died, and it was only recently that he’d been able to get back in it without having to get right back out and into a regular car with a roof.
He’d found the campo that Jessica was staying in on the map hung on the kitchen wall next to the tide calendar. Just a kilometer south, he glanced at the tide calendar and noticed that it was low tide. He quickly decided to go down to check on her on the beach. He’d always taken the beach any chance he had.
The engine turned over on the first try—only after he’d put on his seat belt— and his sense of satisfaction that it still worked perfectly, after all these years, made him smile. He backed out of the garage and turned onto the dirt road, heading through the arroyo separating his campo from the campo south and turned east, onto the sand.
His hair rustling in the wind, he took his sunglasses from his head and placed them firmly over his eyes. Both hands gripped the wheel as he made his way onto the hard-packed sand that had recently been underwater and turned south. He laughed as he spotted fish jumping. He slowed slightly at his favorite fishing spot, wondering if he was passing up a good yellowtail day, then remembered he could always go later.
He turned into the camp Jess’s father had mentioned and as he crested the dune, he couldn’t miss the truck he’d seen the night before with “McNally Racing” plastered on the side. He’d stopped following the races years ago, after the acci
dent, and had never heard of Jess McNally, or any McNally’s, period.
Rolling to a stop next to the garage, he noticed the mechanical crew swarming around what looked like a quad in the center of the garage. The smell of gas and oil hit his nostrils as he hopped out of the car.
Kyle turned the corner of the garage and felt his eyes widen as he took in the sight. At least seven men were standing next to the almost destroyed quad, which was lifted up on a stand. He recognized Cade, Jess’s brother, standing closest to Jess, his arms folded over his chest. Jessica stood next to him, and didn’t seem too happy about being left out of the repairs, her feet shuffling as if she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.
What had really surprised him, though, was the sight of Jessica. The lovely woman in front of him bore no resemblance to the dirt-covered woman with matted hair that he’d met the night before. As she turned to look at him, he did notice one thing that remained the same—her eyes. The dark eyes that had struck him last night as having determination and drive in them were there, but framed by lovely brown curls. Her pink sundress and pink headband almost made him laugh, so different it was from her racing jersey and torn race pants she was wearing when they’d met.
“What are you laughing at?” she asked, and he instantly realized that he had been smiling...a smile which evaporated as all eyes turned toward him.
“I’m not laughing,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, a look of understanding directed at Cade.
“Oh, Doctor, perfect timing.” Mr. McNally strode over to him, offering an outstretched hand. Kyle took his hand and matched his smile. “As you can see, we have our hands full on several fronts,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he turned to his daughter.
As Blue as the Sky Page 4
