Lost Down Deep

by Sara Davison

  She frowned. “When you put it that way, it does sound a little ridiculous.”

  “Ana, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “Well, I’m sixty-four and I have a few more years of experience than you, so maybe you’ll forgive me for offering a little advice. Don’t keep closing doors, darlin’. Life is precious but fleeting. I remember being twenty-eight, believe it or not. I was seeing Patrick but reluctant to get serious. Somehow I thought we had all the time in the world. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have put Patrick off as long as I did. I wanted everything to be in place before we married. As far as I was concerned, we both had to be settled in our jobs, we needed to have enough money for a house, and we had to have the next few years of our lives all mapped out before we walked down the aisle. All I managed to do by trying to make things simple for us was rob myself of those extra years of joy we could have had together.”

  Summer set down the roll, her appetite gone. “That makes sense, I guess.”

  Nancy’s smile held compassion. “I know it’s scary, taking a risk. But risks are what make life exhilarating and filled with joy.” She ran a piece of bread around the bottom of her bowl, soaking up the last few drops. “I’m not suggesting you jump into anything without thinking about it, but I do recommend you at least consider long and hard why you might be so reluctant to spend time with Ryan. If there’s no spark, or you’ve seen any red flags, that’s one thing. But if it’s only fear, push through it. If you do, I suspect that what will be waiting for you on the other side is well worth any complications that might arise as a result. Besides, you know what the Bible says. If you are alone and you fall, no one will help you up, but if someone is at your side, you can help each other. Sometimes, when it’s right, letting another person into your life can end up making your life simpler. Or, at the very least, a lot more fun.”

  “You might be right.”

  “I usually am.” Nancy winked at her before rising and carrying her dishes into the kitchen.

  Summer sagged against the back of her chair. Was Nancy right? Was fear keeping her from opening the door to the possibility of anything happening with Ryan? Or was she simply being careful so she didn’t make a huge mistake?

  Sometimes it was awfully hard to tell the difference between the two.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Summer pulled the door closed and locked it. When she turned, Ryan, a little more casual tonight in jeans and his brown leather jacket, stood at the end of the walkway, leaning against a lamppost, waiting for her. He’d asked again at the coffee shop if he could pick her up, and in a moment of weakness—Nancy’s question about why she was fighting this so hard flitting through her mind—she’d agreed.

  In spite of her determination to keep any interest in him beyond friendship in check, her stomach flip flopped a little as she headed down the walkway. When she was a few feet away from him, he pushed away from the pole, that slow smile that made it pretty much impossible to think of him as a brother crossing his face. “You look great.”

  “Thank you.” Self-conscious, Summer adjusted the black scarf she had wrapped around her neck and smoothed down the front of her red Columbia jacket. “So do you.”

  “Are you okay to walk? Benton’s is only a few blocks away.”

  “Sure.” Did he understand that she was still a little reluctant to get in a car with him? Either way, she appreciated the gesture. “I came prepared.” She tugged a pair of gloves from her pocket and pulled them on as she fell into step beside him. They chatted lightly about the weather and the houses they passed, the silences between words comfortable, even oddly familiar.

  When they reached the restaurant, Ryan held the door for her and she smiled at him as she brushed by. He touched her back lightly, guiding her toward a quiet table in the back corner, and Summer bit her lip. It was getting harder and harder not to consider this a date.

  Daphne had assured her that the food was excellent at Benton’s, if at the other end of the spectrum from the high-end Italian they’d enjoyed the other night. The smell of hot grease accompanied them as they crossed the room and they both ordered burgers and fries. When the food arrived, Summer gaped at the giant burger—how on earth was she supposed to even get it into her mouth?

  When she finally screwed up the nerve to try, ketchup and mustard dripped onto her chin while a big piece of tomato plopped onto her plate. Ryan laughed, although he wasn’t having much more success with his. Summer grabbed her set of cutlery to unwrap the napkin from around it. “Is it acceptable to use a knife and fork, do you think?”

  “Absolutely not.” Ryan reached over and grabbed her cutlery before she could snag the napkin. “The rules explicitly state that you must use only your hands or be disqualified.”

  When she lunged for the knife and fork, he grasped her wrist and held it while waving for a server to come over. Summer swiped the condiments off her chin with the back of her free hand. When the young man stopped at their table, she struggled to keep a straight face as Ryan handed him both their sets. “Can you take these, please? We won’t be needing them.”

  “Of course.” The young man’s forehead wrinkled, but he nodded and took the cutlery.

  When he had disappeared into the back, Ryan’s eyes met Summer’s. “Can you believe that guy? He looked at me like no one ever asked their server to remove the knives and forks from the table before.”

  “Imagine that,” Summer said dryly as she inclined her head toward the burger. “All right, fine. You’re going to have to take what you get, then.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Not a problem. After all, this isn’t a date, right?”

  She glanced down. Their arms both rested on the table, his fingers lightly circling her wrist, her skin burning beneath his. He waited a beat before slowly pulling his hand away. Summer forced herself to meet his gaze, to level her breathing before answering him. “Right.”

  He waved a hand through the air. “Have at it, then.”

  She picked up the burger with both hands and took a bite. Ketchup dripped onto her chin, but as he had sent away the napkins with the cutlery, there was little she could do about it.

  Ryan’s eyes gleamed as he reached for his burger. “The one with the cleanest shirt at the end wins.”

  Summer glanced down at her light blue sweater. This was not going to be pretty. Good thing she had a coat to put on before they had to walk through the restaurant again. “You’re on.”

  She settled on a strategy of taking tiny bites, which minimized the amount of drippings from the burger, and a few minutes later only a few red and yellow splotches dotted her shirt. She did have to press her lips together to keep from laughing every time she glanced at Ryan, munching away, an innocent look on his face as though he had no idea—or didn’t care—that he had a big blob of relish on his chin.

  Halfway through his burger, he set it on his plate. “All right, I concede. We’re setting a bad example for those kids over there.”

  He lifted a hand to the server while inclining his head toward a table in the corner. Summer glanced over. Two young boys stared at them. As Summer watched, one pointed at them and the other giggled. Their mother, trying unsuccessfully to get them to wipe their faces, sent a reproachful glare their way.

  Summer covered a laugh by coughing softly into her fist.

  “Can we get a few napkins here, please?” Ryan asked the server, the same guy who had removed their cutlery, when he came over to their table.

  The guy shot a look at Ryan’s long-sleeved black T-shirt. His forehead wrinkled again, but he’d been well trained. He merely nodded and replied, “Of course,” before heading to the front counter. A moment later he returned and set a pile of napkins on the table.

  “That guy’s getting a really good tip.” Ryan’s lips twitched as he handed half the pile to Summer. “Actually, kudos to you, too. You’re a good sport.”

  “I don’t believe in shying away from a challenge.” Summer swiped at
the front of her shirt.

  He snorted. “Believe me, I know.”

  She glanced up sharply. Ryan had been rubbing a napkin over a spot on his sleeve, but he froze now, as though he hadn’t meant to say what he’d said. When he looked up, his cheeks had colored slightly. “I mean, that’s pretty clear. Not many women would agree to a contest that involved spilling food on yourself in the middle of a busy restaurant.”

  She studied him a moment. “I suppose not.”

  He tossed the napkin onto the table. “Are you going to finish your burger?”

  Summer was pretty sure she wouldn’t be eating anything for a week. “No, thanks. If I take one more bite I’ll need to be wheeled out of here on a dolly.”

  “Me too.” He scrutinized the pile of food on his plate. “Next time I think we should split one.”

  She blinked at his casual assumption that there would be a next time. “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “How about a walk?”

  “Perfect.” Summer gave up on her shirt and slid her arms into her coat.

  The server, still looking a little unsure about the two of them, brought the bill on a tray with two peppermints. When Summer reached for it, Ryan snatched it from under her fingers. “I said this one was on me.” She sighed and took a peppermint instead. He dropped cash onto the tray and pushed back his chair. “Shall we?”

  He waited until Summer had gone ahead, then followed her out the door. A blast of cold air hit her when she stepped outside and Summer wrapped the scarf around her neck and tugged the gloves up higher on her wrists. Ryan grimaced. “Sorry. Maybe we should have driven.”

  “No, it’s fine. I like the cold, actually. We didn’t really have seasons in Mexico, so I enjoy them all now.” The faint rumble of the waterfall behind the mill a block away drew her. “Want to walk along the river?”

  In the light of the streetlamp they were passing under, he nodded. “Sure.”

  They walked along the stone wall Summer had followed the day she’d arrived in Elora. The path and woods appeared considerably more foreboding in the dark, but when they reached the curve of the wall that signaled the edge of the water, bright lights twinkling on the other side of the river lit up the area, giving it the fairyland feel she’d picked up from the pictures in the map book.

  Still, she contemplated the path that wound along the top of the ravine, a steep drop on one side and thick trees on the other, a little dubiously. “Should we keep going?”

  “It’s completely up to you.” Ryan’s voice sounded a little strained.

  Another challenge. Summer lifted her chin. “I’m game if you are.”

  He held out his hand in the direction of the pathway. “Lead on.”

  She started down the path. Lampposts every twenty feet or so helped light the way enough that she was able to avoid the tree roots that occasionally burst through the soil in the middle of the path. Concentrating on retaining her footing, she jumped when Ryan touched her elbow. “Sorry, I wanted to make sure you saw the curve ahead.”

  Summer looked up. The wall sloped to the right ahead of them. To the left, steps led down to a rounded area that overlooked the river. “Should we check out the view?”

  “There won’t be much to see in the dark.” The words sounded tight, as though he had to work to get them out.

  What is that about? “Might as well look while we’re here.” She started down the stairs. After a few seconds, his footsteps echoed on the stone behind her. At the bottom of the stairs, a low stone wall encircled a flat area. Summer reached the wall and pressed both palms to it so she could lean over the top. Soft light from the houses on the far side of the river and the headlights of cars driving over the bridge fifty yards down the gorge illuminated the area a little. Far below, the river, a ribbon of sparkling white in the moonlight, wended its way between the shores and under the bridge.

  “Careful.” Ryan grasped both her shoulders. A tremor passed through his fingers.

  Summer straightened. He let her go when she turned around. “Not a fan of heights?”

  “Heights don’t bother me. You tumbling down a ravine in the dark would.”

  “Oh.” The concern in his voice sent warmth rushing through her chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “It’s okay.” A gust of wind swept past them, catching the ends of her scarf and sending both flapping in the breeze. Ryan grabbed for them and stepped closer.

  His eyes locked with hers and Summer struggled to draw in a breath.

  “By the way, I forgot to give you your prize.”

  She blinked. “My prize?”

  “Yes, for winning the cleanest shirt competition earlier.”

  “Ah. What is it?”

  He tugged on the ends of her scarf, pulling her closer. “This.” He lowered his head. A couple of inches from her, he paused. “Okay?”

  She should absolutely say no. They’d just met and she didn’t know for sure that he wasn’t involved with anyone else. Or that she wasn’t, for that matter. It would be smart to take a little time to think about all the… That’s your problem, Summer. No pienses tanto. You think too much. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  He pressed his lips lightly to hers. The kiss lasted only seconds but still Summer might have swayed on her feet if he hadn’t been holding on to her scarf when he lifted his head.

  “So,” he grinned as he wrapped the ends around her neck and tucked them into the folds, “can we back away from the edge now?”

  That was a good idea. In more ways than one. Summer nodded and followed him to the top of the stairs. “Should we keep going?” Her voice rasped a little when she spoke, and she cleared her throat as she inclined her head in the direction of the path.

  “It only gets darker that way because there are no houses across the river here. Why don’t we explore that path another time, preferably in daylight?”

  “You’re right, probably enough exploring for one night.”

  Ryan contemplated her for a few seconds, obviously catching the double meaning of her words. He didn’t comment though, only smiled. “Fair enough. Let’s head back to civilization.”

  Summer nodded and started down the path, carefully picking her way around rocks and over fallen branches. Not carefully enough. A tree root caught the toe of her leather boot and she stumbled and fell to her knees. The jolt sent a lightning bolt of pain through her head, reminding her of the head injury she’d nearly forgotten about this evening.

  Ryan leapt around in front of her. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” Summer pressed a hand to the ground, intending to push herself to her feet. Instead, her fingers broke through the thin ice covering a puddle, plunging her hand into freezing water.

  “Oh, Ana.” Ryan held out both arms. “Here.”

  The fake name sounded all wrong on his lips. Summer grasped his forearms and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “It’s fine.” In spite of the cold, heat flared in her cheeks.

  “It’s not fine. Your fingers are going to freeze.” Ryan tugged off her glove and shoved it into his pocket. Taking her hand in both of his, he massaged warmth back into it.

  “I can’t believe I did that.” She should free herself from his grasp, but she couldn’t bring herself to. “I’m not usually such a klutz.”

  He grinned. “No problem. You’re not the first woman I’ve knocked off her feet.”

  The words were teasing, but Summer didn’t doubt the truth of them. The idea of him having the same effect on other women that he was having on her at the moment bothered her more than she cared to admit. She tugged on her fingers but he didn’t let go.

  “Seriously, it’s freezing out here. I’ve taken a few first aid courses and I know you have to keep your hand warm. Let me hold onto it until we get back to your place. Purely for the sake of preventing frostbite, of course.”

  “A medicinal hand hold, you mean.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, I would hate to lose a fing
er.”

  “Good call.” He tightened his grip as they continued down the path. Summer kept her eyes glued to the ground, watching for other potential tripping hazards. The uneven ground continued to send shoots of pain up from the base of her skull like mini fireworks, and she breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the sidewalk. Strolling down the main street, her hand securely in his, she had to admit that this whole evening felt an awful lot like a date. Summer blew out a breath. Give it up, Summer. You’re not fooling anyone. Not herself, not Ryan, not even Nancy, and her landlady had never seen the two of them together.

  “Are your knees okay?”

  She did a quick assessment. They stung a little, but she wasn’t about to tell him that—he might feel as though he needed to pick her up and carry her to prevent further injury to her joints. “They’re fine. Any major damage was confined to my ego.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have thought you’d have much ego left after wearing most of your dinner out of the restaurant.”

  She shot him an indignant look. “As I recall, you wore more of yours than I did mine.”

  “Hence you being awarded that fabulous prize.”

  “Which I suspect was every bit as much for you as for me.”

  Ryan laughed. “Busted.”

  Summer studied him in the windows as they walked by. Her hand was warm in his and fit perfectly. Probably best to get her mind off thoughts like that, though. “Tell me about them.”

  “Who?”

  “All those women you knocked off their feet.”

  He grimaced. “Busted again. As far as I know, I’ve only knocked one woman off her feet.”

  “And where is she now?”

  Ryan let out a melodramatic sigh. “She’s off somewhere, far away. And she’s forgotten all about me.”

  Summer bit her lip. He said the words lightly, but they were carried, like a piece of driftwood, on the undercurrent of a deeper emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Pain, maybe? As much as he wanted her to believe it didn’t bother him that the woman who had meant something to him in the past had left him, it clearly did. “I’m sorry.”