Lucky Lifeguard (River's End Ranch Book 28)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “You’re welcome.”

  They both fell silent, awkwardness building up between them.

  “So, I needed to ask you what your schedule’s going to be like while I’m gone. Do you need another lifeguard?”

  She didn’t want another lifeguard. “Dr. Michelle wants me resting at least twenty-four hours and then starting with very soft stationery kicks, so I don’t think I’ll be swimming much for a few days.”

  “It sounds like I’ll be back before you need me, then. Be sure to get a lot of rest, okay? And don’t hurt yourself again.”

  “Wait. You sound like you’re leaving.”

  He stood up. “Yeah, I think I’d better. It’s getting late, and you need some sleep. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

  She wanted to ask him to stay, but she really had no reason to except for being lonely, so she told him goodnight and watched him leave.

  And then sat there for several minutes trying to figure out what had changed between them.

  ***

  “Girls.”

  “I hear ya.”

  Joey took a long swig of his water. He and Jamal were sitting on the front steps of his apartment building, watching the stars come out and grousing about life. Most guys would probably have beer bottles instead of water bottles, but Joey believed in staying alert, and Jamal wasn’t a drinker either.

  “So, what happened to make you all grumpy?” Joey asked.

  “Trina and Hailey left, and right as they pulled away, Trina told me she has a boyfriend back home and thanked me for showing her around. Man, I really liked her, too. I was thinking about driving down to Reno to see her on my next weekend off.”

  “I’m sorry about that, man. She should have told you right off.”

  “Yeah. I mean, we still could have hung out, but as friends, you know? No expectations, keeping boundaries, stuff like that.” He paused and looked at Joey. “What about you and Hailey? I didn’t see you out there saying goodbye.”

  Joey shrugged. “She sent me a text and seemed fine saying goodbye that way. And to be honest, I was a little busy.”

  “Oh? Doing what?”

  “Having dinner with Jaclyn.”

  Jamal chuckled. “That must have been fun. I haven’t been over to see her for a while—need to do that. How is she?”

  “Good. Same as ever. Eccentric. Said some things that got me thinking.”

  “She always does. Anything in particular this time?”

  Joey finished his water and put the lid back on the bottle. “Said I was going to have to fight harder this time than I did before, and she wanted to know if I was up for it.”

  “Fight for what?”

  “Chelsea.”

  “Ah.” Jamal’s reply sounded all-knowing. “I don’t think Nick’s going to like that very much. He’s brought her up about five times today, and I only saw him for a few minutes.”

  “Well, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about it yet. I went and saw her tonight to talk to her about being called up, and something was weird. I don’t know—there was a shift in the universe or something like that. It made me wonder if I want to fight.”

  Jamal lifted his finger. “Let me tell you something about Jaclyn. If people around here were smart, they’d be lining up to hear what she had to say, and then they’d be doing it. She may be a little different, but she’s the wisest woman I’ve ever met, and that includes my own grandma, so you’d better believe I hold her in high regard.”

  “I know she’s right about a lot of things, but she can’t be right all the time, can she? Maybe this was just one of those days.”

  Jamal was shaking his head before Joey even finished. “That’s not how it works. You’ve got to listen, dude. Listen to what she said.” He clapped Joey on the shoulder as he stood up. “Heading in now—I’ve got an early day tomorrow. We’re getting in some piglets. You need a ride?”

  “No, I’ll drive. I don’t have to go in until eight.”

  “Lucky you. See you tomorrow.”

  Jamal left Joey sitting there, listening to the sounds of night and the occasional car.

  When he thought back on it, now that he was alone and his thoughts were the only ones he could hear, he knew what had changed. He had won that meet. He had won. That meant he was good enough. That meant he mattered. And he hadn’t realized it at the time.

  After Chelsea got that scholarship and transferred schools, he’d decided that it was time to put away his dreams of competitive swimming and focus on an actual career. He’d buckled down and studied hard and began to excel in his pre-med classes. He kept swimming, but primarily as a means to stay fit and because he loved it. His coach couldn’t believe that he was putting it on the back burner, but he was ready to move on academically.

  And now he wondered. If he’d continued swimming, could he have applied for a scholarship? What if he’d gotten one and it paid for his pre-med tuition, and he didn’t have to save up like he had been?

  While other people had money and could just pay for college without having to save.

  There it was—the kernel of what had been bothering him. While he and Chelsea had been dating, he’d tried to put the difference in their situations to the side because he cared about the girl, not about her money. But it came up over and over again—her parents’ disdain for his simple clothes and old car, the way she was expected to attend events with them, but couldn’t invite him to go along, how she’d just run to the store whenever she wanted something and didn’t have to stop and think if she had the money to do it. The class differences were so stark, they probably couldn’t have made it work even if she hadn’t transferred schools.

  And wasn’t that what she said to him when she broke up with him? “We’re too different, Joey. We’ll never really be compatible. It’s better that we figure it out now before we get hurt.”

  Except that he had gotten hurt. Badly. And he’d never had the chance to tell her that because she’d hung up—yes, she’d broken up with him by telephone—and she’d gotten on a plane and flown away.

  If he’d told her how he felt, would that have made any difference?

  And if he’d gotten a scholarship of his own, would that have made any difference?”

  He growled a little bit and ran his hands over his face. This was ridiculous. How much time would he waste sitting there feeling sorry for himself when he had a ton of other things to do? He needed to call his parents—that was a rule in their family: call your parents if you’re about to head into something life-threatening. With one brother in the fire department and another who was a security guard at a jewel company, that was a pretty decent family rule to have. And he had to pack. And . . . okay, that wasn’t a ton of things that he needed to do, but it was certainly enough that sitting there moaning about his life was taking up too much valuable time.

  He stood up, went inside, threw away his water bottle, and flopped down on his bed.

  If his apartment were any larger, he’d get a roommate. Nick and Jamal and Reggie seemed to keep each other cheered up pretty well, but they had a bigger place. He had just about enough room for a goldfish.

  A goldfish. Hmm. No. Too cold and scaly. Not snuggly at all.

  He really should have gone to visit the rabbits in the small animal barn the other day when he was thinking about it. Or slipped a slice of pizza to Jaclyn’s bunnies. Another opportunity missed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chelsea’s parents brought in breakfast from the diner the next morning, and she stuffed herself with waffles, eggs, sausage, and bacon. It felt so good to eat a meal without adding up all the calories in the back of her head. Of course, she’d be doing that again soon enough, but for this one meal, she’d cut herself some slack.

  “So, what are the two of you up to today?” she asked as she poured herself some more orange juice.

  “Your father and I thought we’d go into Riston and visit some antique shops,” her mom replied. “Do you want to come?”

  “No, th
at’s fine. I’ve still got this brace thing going on, and besides, this is your anniversary trip. I’m just glad that we’re having breakfast together. That means a lot.”

  Her parents smiled at each other. “You know, we talked about you for a while after we went to bed last night, and we agreed how blessed we are to have a daughter like you,” her dad said. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with us last night. We’re not promising that we’re going to do everything perfectly from now on, and we’re definitely not ready to start singing and dancing like we’re in some kind of musical, but you gave us a lot to think about and to work on, and we appreciate that.”

  “I don’t want you to start singing and dancing. That would be creepy. And I don’t want matching outfits or for us to start doing everything together—that would be creepy too. Breakfast. Breakfast is good. An occasional snack. That works.”

  “We can do that.” Her mother took a sip of her coffee, then put the mug back on the table. “What are your plans for today?”

  “I need to see Dr. Michelle—maybe you could help me with that before you leave. Then I thought I’d write that letter to the dean, since I didn’t get it done yesterday, and then I’ll take a nap. I might even be really slothful and take two naps.”

  “I’d be glad to help you get over to Dr. Michelle’s,” her dad said. “It was nice of your lifeguard friend to help you yesterday. Will you be seeing him at all today?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure he’s got a lot to do—he’s on a volunteer S&R team heading out to fight wildfires tomorrow, so I imagine he’s busy.”

  “That’s nice,” her father replied, his nose already dipping back into his newspaper. Chelsea smiled. She couldn’t expect things to be completely different just overnight.

  Dr. Michelle told her to take off the brace, but to keep the knee wrapped for another day, and to walk around on it a little bit. Gently, not strenuously. Chelsea insisted that her parents take off for their day of antiquing, and then she decided to take a gentle, not strenuous walk around the parking lot.

  A little gray rabbit was hopping along near the edge of the blacktop, and she stopped to look at him. He seemed so soft, like he’d melt into a puff of gray cloud if she touched him. Then he hopped away, and she looked up to see that he was heading toward a curious yard full of garden gnomes—not alive—and more rabbits, alive.

  She walked a little bit closer, her curiosity killing her. What sort of little house was this?

  “Well, it took you long enough to get here. I suppose that’s the limp and I can’t hold it against you, though.”

  Chelsea startled at the voice. “Hello?” she called out tentatively.

  A small woman popped her head over one of the bushes in the yard. “Over here, dear. I was just doing a little bit of pruning. The fairies don’t like it when my bushes get too bushy. They say it suffocates them.”

  “The fairies?” Chelsea asked. She almost expected this woman to be a fairy herself, from the looks of her house. But when she came around the bush, she was dressed in regular clothes, not a gossamer gown, and she had no wings at all. It was sort of disappointing.

  “Yes, dear. Fairies. Small winged creatures? Often depicted as being female, although that overlooks the rather flourishing male fairy population?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, I do know what fairies are. I just don’t often hear people talk about them. Except for flirt fairies, but I made that up.”

  The woman put one hand on her hip. “And there’s the injustice of it all. Poor things don’t get near the credit they deserve. Well, come in—we’re wasting time, you know. Only so many hours in a day, no matter how often I ask for more.”

  Bemused, Chelsea followed the woman into her home, taking the steps gingerly and holding onto the rail.

  “Finally, someone slower than I am,” the woman said with a chuckle. “I’m Jaclyn, by the way, and I oversee the RV park here on the ranch.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Jaclyn. I’m a guest here for a little while. My name’s Chelsea.”

  “And you’re a swimmer. No, the fairies didn’t tell me that, although they do tell me a great many things. I say that because you have a faint odor of chlorine about you, and the ‘Swimming Is Life’ T-shirt you’re wearing. I can surmise some things on my own,” she said, as though anyone was saying she couldn’t.

  “Yes, I am a swimmer,” Chelsea said, lowering herself into the chair Jaclyn showed her. “So, what kinds of things do the fairies tell you?”

  “They tell me that you were supposed to have pizza for dinner last night.”

  “I . . . I was? Well, I had Chinese, and it was very good.”

  “Chinese!” Jaclyn shook her head. “I suppose we’ll have to overlook that because it was for the greater good.”

  “Okay,” Chelsea said slowly. She startled a bit when a rabbit jumped up onto her lap and settled in. If rabbits could purr, she was pretty sure this one would be doing it. “Do the fairies have any ideas for my dinner tonight?”

  “They’re utterly silent, although if you ask me, I’d get some of the tomato bisque soup from the dining room and pair it with grilled cheese sandwiches. Not very fancy, but my, does it hit the spot.”

  Chelsea’s mouth watered as soon as she heard the words. “That sounds really good.”

  “Trust me, you won’t regret it.” Jaclyn leaned forward and opened a tin of cookies that was sitting on the coffee table. “I’d offer you chamomile tea, but you don’t like it. You’re averse to anything floating in your liquid, and sadly, tea makes floating leaves.”

  “Um, you’re right,” Chelsea said, taking a cookie. “How did you know?”

  Jaclyn gave her an exaggeratedly patient look. “How many times are we going to cover this same topic, my dear? The fairies. They know all, they see all—they’re like magic, you see, because they are magic. And they would also like me to tell you that it’s not too late, and that all misunderstandings can be cleared up with conversation.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “Well, for goodness’ sake, how am I supposed to know?” Jaclyn shook her head. “I can’t possibly carry around all that information all the time—my brain is already operating at maximum capacity as it is. Now eat your cookie and get to work. Time’s a-wastin’!”

  Startled, Chelsea finished her cookie, which really was very good, thanked her unusual hostess, gave the reluctant rabbit back, and left, hobbling back toward her cabin. She had no idea what Jaclyn—or the fairies—meant about getting to work, but she wasn’t going to dawdle while trying to figure it out.

  ***

  “Here’s what I got worked out with the Kates for while I’m gone,” Joey said, handing a sheet of paper to Will. “I even got Kaitlyn to agree to a couple of shifts when she’s not cleaning at the bunkhouse.”

  Will took the paper and looked it over. “This looks great, Joey. Thanks for handling it.”

  “No problem. How’s Ellie?”

  Will smiled and shook his head. “She still thinks she can run the universe, and she’s probably right. She just needs to stop trying until after this baby comes.”

  Joey laughed. “I bet that baby already has some tiny little aquatics gear just waiting to be used. I can picture it now—little goggles, a miniature life jacket . . .”

  “You’re not too far off,” Will said.

  Joey said goodbye to his boss, wandered over by the pool just to make sure everything was going smoothly, and then stood there by the gate, feeling a curious sense of disconnectedness. He wasn’t really saying goodbye to it—he knew he’d be back. It was more a feeling that things wouldn’t be the same anymore after this, that something fundamental inside himself was changing. It was confusing and uncomfortable, and yet also exciting because that meant possibilities, and he always liked possibilities.

  As he walked away from the pool, he glanced over in the direction of the guest cabins. He’d be leaving early in the morning, and he wanted one more chance to talk to Chelsea before he went.
Maybe he’d go by after dinner. He needed to resolve these conflicting feelings he was having. He was also feeling the urge to fight . . . whatever that meant.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chelsea stared at her laptop, trying to figure out what to say. Her fingers felt twice their usual size, like she wouldn’t be able to type at all, but this had to be done, no matter how embarrassed she was or reluctant to do it.

  Might as well start typing—she could always go back and edit later.

  Dear Dean Simmons,

  Thank you for the letter you sent addressing my recent drop in grades. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I could pretend and try to offer up some excuse, but the truth of the matter is, I haven’t been the kind of student I should have been, and certainly not the kind of student you hoped I would be when you offered me my scholarship. I haven’t even been the kind of athlete you hoped for, as my recent surgery has shown.

  I’ve recently realized that I need to stop pushing myself so hard, and that I will only excel when I can do it at my own pace. I would like to come in to the office and discuss cutting back my class hours. I realize I might be forfeiting my scholarship if I do that, but perhaps that’s best anyway. There are so many deserving students out there who could benefit from that money, and it might be right to turn my allowance over to one of them while I continue to figure out the journey I need to take.

  I’m out of town at the moment, but I will call and set up an appointment before the next semester starts so we can have a plan for my continued education. By then, I should also have a clearer idea about my recovery. I might need to take more time off to heal, and I’m sending a note to Coach Barkdull about that in a moment. I want to be very straightforward about where I am mentally and physically so our plan is logical and fair.

  Thank you for the time you’ve invested in me. I appreciate it, as well as all the effort and faith.

  Chelsea McAllister