The Summer Cottage: Includes a bonus story

by Annie Rains

“Might want to, uh, remove the lens cap,” Jake suggested.

  Heat flooded Trisha’s cheeks. Such an amateur. “Right.” She took the lens cap off and glanced over to look at Petey, who was sitting on the ground outside the gate with Bailey. He appeared to be talking to the dog, which was sweet, and also sad. Petey needed a real friend. Real friends were hard to have when you held secrets though. Secrets kept a superficial shell around you, making it hard to get too close.

  “A Canon SLR, huh?” Jake asked, bringing Trisha’s focus back to him.

  She slid her gaze sideways. “You know your cameras.”

  Jake had his fingers in his pockets, which seemed to be his normal stance. “I study things,” he said. “It’s been kind of a hobby since I was a kid.”

  Trisha straightened and let her camera rest on her chest. “What do you study?”

  “Any subject I’m interested in. I read manuals and how-to books. That’s my thing.”

  “Photography?” Trisha asked.

  “And gardening, mechanics, carpentry, welding, anything and everything. I’ve never planted a seed in my life, but I know how to.” He gestured to Trisha’s camera. “I’ve never held a fancy camera like yours, but I know exactly how it works.”

  Trisha’s mouth fell open. “That’s a strange hobby.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I also fly planes.”

  “That one’s a bit cooler,” she said, a teasing tone in her voice.

  “You didn’t think so yesterday.”

  “Yeah, well, I was worried my son was drowning or being eaten by a bear at the time.”

  “Do you always assume the worst?” Jake asked.

  Trisha’s lips parted. “I’m a mom,” she said, as if that explained it. “It’s kind of my job to make sure he’s safe. But I will admit that flying planes is cool.”

  “Your hobby is photography?” Jake asked.

  She glanced at her camera. “I wouldn’t say that. I barely know how to turn this thing on. And I can’t find the manual it came with. It was a gift.”

  “Someone must think an awful lot of you to give you something so expensive.”

  Trisha looked down at her feet. She took a breath and pulled her gaze back up to meet his. “I guess so.”

  He seemed to wait for her to say more. She didn’t. She’d already said too much.

  “Do you mind?” He gestured to the camera.

  “No.” She took the strap from around her neck and handed it to him, listening as he rattled off jargon about the camera’s features. Then he held it up to his eyes. He turned the dials around the lens, back and forth, back and forth, until he finally seemed satisfied. “There.” He handed the camera back.

  Trisha hesitated before grabbing it and holding the viewfinder up to her eyes. She aimed the camera at the jar of marbles. The image was clear and focused.

  “You, uh, need to put your finger on the shutter release,” Jake said.

  Trisha stiffened as his hand took hers, guiding her index finger to rest over the button. She pressed it, maybe a little too quickly, to get him to remove his hand. But as soon as his hand left hers, she wanted it to return. The feel of his skin on hers was intoxicating. It left her mouth dry, her body warm, and little sparkles resonating throughout her chest.

  This wasn’t good at all. Once upon a time, she would’ve thought that was the best feeling imaginable. An insta-crush complete with the kind of warm tingles that left her wide awake in bed, dreaming of the next look, next touch, next everything.

  She was older now though. Wiser. And yeah, a little bitter from her heart’s battering and wear. These fluttering-heart feelings weren’t welcome.

  She focused her camera again, aiming it at the jar of marbles. It would be a quirky image with a story all its own. Someone lost their marbles in a relationship. She could relate. Only, she’d lost a lot more than marbles. That’s why keeping Jake at a safe distance was necessary.

  His hand slipped over hers again, the feel of his skin brushing over hers.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.

  “Showing you the dials. You have to turn them to focus the lens.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” she said. But he was right. The camera wasn’t even focused on the jar. The image was blurry. She took a breath. Then she turned the dial, her fingers under his. She looked in the viewfinder and waited for the perfect picture to emerge. When it did, she pushed the button again.

  “There.” Jake winked at her. “That’s going to be a keeper.”

  She ignored that little jump in her pulse. Then she felt a sense of dread wash over her for seemingly no reason. She turned frantically to look outside the gate. “Petey!” She started running, not bothering to stay in the aisles like Jake had said repeatedly. “Petey!” she called again, flying out the gate and around the corner where he was sitting. His hands were clutching his throat.

  Trisha scanned him, trying to figure out the reason for his distress. All she saw were tiny ants.

  Jake caught up to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Trisha squatted next to Petey. “Can you breathe? Talk to me!”

  Petey’s eyes were large and frightened. “It’s hard…to breathe.”

  But he was talking. Which meant there wasn’t any object obstructing his airway. Her gaze went back to the ants. Then she noticed a couple on Petey’s leg. She swatted them away.

  “Is he allergic?” Jake asked.

  Trisha shook her head quickly. “I don’t think so.”

  Petey was still gasping for air, his throat making a scraping sound with each quick, sharp intake of breath.

  “We need to get him to a hospital,” Jake said.

  Trisha was about to pick Petey up to carry him, but Jake beat her to it.

  “It’ll be faster if I do it.” He picked Petey up like it was nothing and started racing back toward their cottages, leaving Trisha working hard to keep up. Her heart was beating so hard that she thought it might explode inside her chest.

  “Do you have an EpiPen?” Jake called behind him.

  “No.” Why would she? Petey wasn’t allergic to anything. Or he hadn’t been.

  “I have one in my truck,” Jake said. “Almost there, buddy,” he told Petey.

  “Why do we need an EpiPen?” Trisha asked frantically, feeling like it was hard to breathe herself.

  “Because he’s in anaphylactic shock.”

  Trisha was pretty sure the meaning of the word was every bit as scary as it sounded.

  “I’ll give him the shot and drive you both to the hospital. It’s faster than nine-one-one out here. Trust me,” Jake said for the second time today.

  She didn’t argue. She was just glad he had a plan because she felt helpless right now, and she needed someone to take charge of the situation. In this moment, she had no choice but to trust Jake Fletcher.

  * * *

  The last hour had been a whirlwind of what seemed like life and death, and now Jake sat in one of the chairs situated along the wall of Petey’s hospital room. Trisha sat in another that was scooted up to the bed. Petey was seemingly oblivious to the commotion he’d caused and was sleeping soundly.

  Jake could only see the back of Trisha, but he thought maybe he heard a few sniffles coming from her direction. “You okay?” he asked for the tenth time.

  “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay,” she said, also for the tenth time.

  He shifted in the hard chair. Why hospitals couldn’t afford comfortable chairs, he’d never understand. “I’m not leaving you alone here. I’ll go sit in the waiting room if you’d prefer.”

  She turned to look at him now. When she did, he saw that his suspicions were right. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot. He reached for a box of tissues and passed it to her.

  “You don’t have anyone else here in Somerset Lake. You shouldn’t be alone. Just in case you need water or a snack. Or if you need to go to the restroom and don’t want to leave Petey alone. Or if you need a Kleenex.”

  She
took the box and pulled out a tissue. “Thank you.”

  He watched as she dabbed under her eyes.

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there today.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t have been in the Lost Love Cemetery if it weren’t for me so this is kind of my fault.”

  Trisha clutched the wadded tissue in her hand. “Petey is alive because of you. If you hadn’t had that EpiPen…” She trailed off. “Petey has never had an allergic reaction before. To anything. Why did you have an EpiPen in your truck anyway?”

  Jake kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing one shoe over the other. “Because I’m allergic to peanuts.” He always felt a little weak when he told people. “The kids used to have a field day with that fact when I was younger. I sat at a separate lunch table because of all the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was—it is—my kryptonite.”

  Trisha looked at him with interest. “You’ve had an attack like Petey did?”

  Jake glanced at Petey, his heart squeezing at the sight of the energetic boy lying there so helplessly. Then he looked at Trisha again, his heart squeezing for a different reason. She looked so devastated. His first instinct was to lean in and give her a hug, but he didn’t think she’d allow him to. “Yeah. A couple of times. It’s pretty scary.”

  Trisha’s eyes teared up. She reached for another tissue as her expression crumpled. “I’m sorry. That was just”—she shook her head—“terrifying. He couldn’t breathe.” The tears started streaming down her cheeks. She used the tissue to wipe them away with a shaky hand. “And there was nothing I could do to help him.”

  Jake scooted up closer. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. These things happen all the time. The doctor will prescribe you an EpiPen to have handy if it happens again.”

  A startled noise came out of Trisha’s throat. “Again?”

  Jake reached for her hand and squeezed it, his gaze narrowing on hers. “Petey is okay. My copilot over there is going to be just fine.”

  “Thank you.” She met his gaze. She looked so vulnerable right now. Far from the closed-off woman he’d met yesterday on the beach. She’d started warming up to him before Petey’s attack, but now her guard was gone, shredded away by the stress of the day.

  “Want me to call someone for you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “My closest friends and family are two hours away.”

  Was that where Petey’s dad was? Wouldn’t she at least call his dad to let him know what had happened?

  Instinctively, Jake knew the answer was no. For whatever reason, the dad didn’t appear to be in the picture. For another unknown reason, Trisha was all alone in a new town, where it seemed she hadn’t made any friends aside from his grandmother. That raised all kinds of questions in Jake’s mind. He didn’t want to interrogate her right now though. All he wanted to do was be a much-needed friend.

  Chapter Six

  An hour later, the physician walked in to check on Petey. Dr. Paschall was middle-aged and wore a long white lab coat with pens and lollipops poking out of the front pockets.

  “You’re awake,” Dr. Paschall said. “That’s a good sign.”

  Petey’s eyes were open, but the usual spark of endless excitement was gone. He looked completely drained. Poor kid. Jake knew the feeling. The last time he’d gone into shock was when he was dating his ex in DC. He hadn’t yet told her about his peanut allergy. It wasn’t something that usually came up on a first date, or even the second.

  She’d made him dinner at her place. When he’d asked what the menu was, it’d sounded safe enough. Steak, potatoes, and salad. A hearty meal with no indication that peanuts were involved. She’d made this vegetable dish to go with the meal, though, and Jake hadn’t seen the peanuts until his throat started to close.

  He’d wondered if he was being paranoid at first. He’d cleared his throat for what felt like a million times. Then his tongue began to feel like it was thickening. When he’d asked his date to call an ambulance, she’d looked horrified.

  Jake leaned forward now and watched as the doctor checked Petey’s neck and throat, listening to his heart and scribbling things down on his clipboard. Finally, Dr. Paschall looked at Trisha and Jake.

  “Your son looks good,” he said as his gaze floated between them.

  Dr. Paschall thought Jake was Petey’s dad. Trisha didn’t correct him. Jake presumed it was because she thought it would’ve only made things awkward. The most important thing was to hear what the doctor was saying.

  “I’m prescribing an EpiPen for Petey. He’s allergic to ants so please keep this boy of yours far away from the insects.”

  Trisha leaned forward in her chair to get the doctor’s attention. “But he’s never been allergic to ants before. I’m sure he’s been bitten in the past.”

  “He likely has. His response has just escalated with each bite. Today was the tipping point for him.” The doctor looked back at Petey. “Little bites, big response. Steer clear, okay, buddy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Petey said.

  Dr. Paschall reached into his pocket, grabbed a lollipop, and handed it to Petey. Then he grabbed a pen and scribbled more on the chart he was holding. When he was done, he looked at Trisha and Jake once more. “You can take him home. Might want to rest for the remainder of the day. A reaction like Petey’s takes a toll on the body. Keep him indoors this evening.”

  Trisha nodded quickly. “We will…I will. Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome.” The doctor offered Petey a high five and left the room.

  “All right, sweetie,” Trisha said to her son. “You heard the doc. Indoors and in bed for the rest of the day.”

  “He didn’t say in bed,” Petey corrected, looking at Jake for confirmation.

  Jake held up his hands. “I’m staying out of this.” He was only here for moral support. “But I think you should be sitting or lying down today. Speaking from experience.”

  Petey looked at Trisha. “Can we tell Dad what happened? He’d probably want to know that I was in the hospital and almost died.”

  Jake slid his gaze to Trisha. He could practically feel the tension rolling off her. She didn’t look at him.

  “We’ll tell your father the next time we see him,” she said. “Now get dressed, sweetheart. It’s time to go home.”

  * * *

  On the drive to the hospital, Trisha had been too worried about Petey to notice the scent of the interior of Jake’s truck. Now, as he drove Petey and her home, she noticed the smell of his leather seats. It was a newer vehicle. That or kept nice, which Trisha guessed was much easier to do when you didn’t have kids.

  Jake didn’t scream money when she looked at him, but he owned nice things. A nice vehicle. A plane. Nice clothes and a leather watchband on his wrist. She’d never been one to care about that sort of stuff, but after what her ex-husband had done, she purposely didn’t keep expensive things. Except for her camera, which she’d left in Jake’s truck as they’d raced into the emergency room hours earlier.

  Trisha glanced over at Jake as he drove. “What did you do with Bailey?” She hadn’t noticed or wondered about that on the way to the hospital. Honestly, the whole day was one big blur.

  “I left her on the lake.”

  “By herself?” she asked.

  Jake glanced over. “I texted Vi to bring her in. She’s got her.”

  “Oh.” Trisha met his gaze. “So Vi knows about Petey?”

  Jake gave a subtle nod. “She does. If she still drove, I’m sure my grandmother would have rushed up to the hospital to sit with you.”

  “Vi is so thoughtful. She’s a wonderful boss and friend.” Trisha glanced over her shoulder to check on Petey, who seemed to have melted into the cab’s back seat. The poor guy was exhausted. Trisha was tired too. All she wanted to do was go inside her home, make a warm bath, and cry in the tub.

  The bathtub was her crying place. It was the only quiet space she got where Petey didn’t interr
upt her with a need or one of his questions. A single mother did what she had to.

  Jake pulled in behind Juniper Cottage. “Home sweet home.” He pulled the key from the ignition and looked over. “Let me help you get Petey inside?”

  It was a question. Trisha could say no, but help sounded good. She had a bag of medication and papers, and she wasn’t sure if Petey was woozy. Plus her son was a growing seven-year-old boy. Her days of picking him up were over.

  “Thank you,” she said in answer. “For everything.”

  “It’s good to have people in your corner,” Jake said, his gaze serious. Had he already figured out that she was deficient in that area? She’d been here for a month, and she’d stayed closed off. That seemed like the right thing to do to keep people from asking too many questions. If they wanted to make this their home, they couldn’t risk getting too close to anyone. That had been her thought process at least.

  But that mentality could’ve led to a disastrous situation with Petey today. If Jake hadn’t been around, Trisha would have called 911, not knowing that it would take longer for them to reach the area. Not knowing that she needed an EpiPen and not having one. She wouldn’t have been able to carry Petey up the shore on her own. She would have only had Vi’s number programmed into her phone.

  Vi wouldn’t have been able to walk to where Trisha was. She probably could’ve called people in her contacts list to help, but Trisha wouldn’t have known those people. They’d have been strangers, which didn’t seem right anymore.

  Jake pushed open his door and stepped out. Then he opened the cab door and helped Petey out while Trisha walked around to where they were. She led the way up the steps to her cottage and fumbled with her keys to let them inside.

  “Where do you want him?” Jake wasn’t carrying Petey. Instead, he had wrapped an arm around Petey’s shoulders in case he lost his balance.

  “My bedroom,” Petey said. “Can I watch your iPad in there?”

  “I’ll set you up.” The iPad was another thing Trisha had gotten to keep after Peter’s imprisonment. The FBI took it and looked at every bit of information on it. It was mostly used for Petey so they’d given it back.