One Summer

by JoAnn Ross

  The way her voice trailed off made him suspect she’d been planning to say something else, and was debating whether to go for it. Since he’d seen her patrolling Harborview as he’d driven away from Charity’s house this morning, he figured her arrival home hadn’t gone unnoticed by those cop eyes, which, despite the way the sky had begun to cloud up, were currently hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

  “I bought your book,” she said.

  That wasn’t what he was expecting.

  “Thanks.”

  “I almost didn’t because I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what Jared had seen.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “But everyone was talking about it, so I dropped by Tidal Wave Books yesterday and looked through it.” She looked up at him, but he still couldn’t see her eyes. Which was probably the point of those shades all cops seemed to wear. “You put me there. With those photos.”

  That was how he’d always viewed his mission. To be a witness to history. To shake people out of their indifference.

  “Is that good? Or bad?”

  He didn’t mention that the photos, as graphic as they were, were only a fraction of what he’d seen and smelled and heard. Nor did he share that he lived with an entire library of violence and suffering in his head.

  “I haven’t quite decided. You did help me understand a lot of why he’d changed so much when he came back home after his last tour. I bought it to look through again, since Sax was downrange, too. I’ve decided to put it away for Trey, my son, when he’s older. To help him know a bit more about his father.”

  “I’m flattered you believe my photos might help.”

  “They’re very good.” She folded her arms. “I especially like the way you somehow managed to keep your own feelings to yourself, leaving it up to the viewer to experience individual emotion. That must have been difficult.”

  Again, he heard the question.

  “I guess it’s a trick I developed.” He had, after all, been keeping his feelings to himself for a very long time.

  “Well, it worked.”

  Two kids, twins from the look of them, were climbing into the backseat behind the screen that separated prisoners from the driver of the patrol car.

  “I also hear you’ve been traveling the country taking photographs for a new book,” she said.

  “You heard right.”

  “How long do you plan to stay here in town?”

  Finally. There it was. “Is this where you tell me the town’s not big enough for the two of us, Sheriff?” he asked mildly.

  “Of course not.” There was an edge to her tone that reminded him what Sax had said about her not having always been a small-town sheriff. She’d been a cop down in Oceanside and had even attended classes at the FBI Academy.

  “Good. Because I’m not finished here.”

  “But when you are, you’ll be moving on to the next state.”

  “Washington,” he agreed absently as Charity, who’d been in the kitchen helping Sedona Sullivan give a baking class, came out of the lodge. “Then Alaska. And finally Hawaii.”

  “Sounds ambitious. I’ve always fantasized about just taking off and seeing the country.”

  “It’s been quite the trip.”

  He watched Charity scan the parking lot. When she spotted him, then waved and flashed that dazzling smile that could brighten the grayest of days, Gabe felt his heart shift, like the tectonic plates that were always moving and colliding here in America’s part of the Ring of Fire.

  “Charity moved here shortly before I returned home,” Kara volunteered, following his gaze. “We’ve become good friends.”

  “She’s definitely friendly.”

  “True. But here’s the thing.” She shoved her glasses up on the top of her head. Her gaze was hard, her tone all cop. “If you hurt her, I may have to shoot you.”

  She was joking. Right? She had to be. Strangers disappearing in outwardly friendly small towns that turned out to be harboring dark and dangerous secrets was just a fictional cliché.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabe said as Bad Day at Black Rock flashed through his mind.

  She nodded, the warning clear. “You do that.”

  40

  “I could get used to this.” Charity stretched happily, every muscle in her body feeling deliciously relaxed.

  If word ever got out that an hour of great sex could accomplish more than a year’s worth of yoga exercises, Seventh Heaven Yoga studio would shut down in a week.

  “I already am,” Gabe said.

  She felt a tinge of loss when he left the rumpled bed, though watching him walk over to the dresser was certainly no hardship. She might not have seen all that many naked men in her life, but seriously doubted that there were many out there who had as hot and hard a body as Gabe had—and were so comfortable with it.

  When he turned back around, he was holding his camera.

  Quick, sharp panic sliced through her. “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t think. And don’t move.”

  “Gabriel.” Feeling the flush of heat rising in her breasts, she went to cover them with the sheet. “I’m naked.”

  “Exactly. And you look incredible.”

  “But—” She folded her arms over the sheet, holding it tightly beneath her arms. “I can’t pose for that kind of picture.”

  “I don’t take that kind. This is art.”

  “Since when do you take art photos?”

  “Since tonight. When I saw you looking all flushed and satisfied, bathed in starshine and candlelight.” Uncommonly for the coast, the sky was clear tonight, allowing the light from a thousand whirling stars and a slice of crescent moon to flow in from the skylight above the bed.

  His wicked smile faded just a shade. “Unless you don’t trust me not to post pictures of you all over the Internet.”

  That idea was so outrageous that she let out a laugh on a short exhaled breath that had her relaxing. Just a bit.

  “Of course I trust you.”

  “Good.” He gently tugged the cooling sheet back down to where it had been gathered low on her hips. “Just lean back, relax, and let me do all the work.” He skimmed a hand down her side, knuckles brushing against her warming skin as he adjusted the sheet to his liking.

  “I’m not a model,” she protested, even as the caress created a humming in her blood.

  “No, you’re a woman.” He brushed her sex-tousled hair back over her shoulders, leaving her even more exposed. “A very sexy, very desirable, incredibly hot and luscious woman.”

  The way he was looking at her did make Charity feel hot. Sexy. Even, amazingly, wanton.

  “You’re just prejudiced.”

  “You bet.” Framing her face between his palms, he bent his head and took her mouth, coaxing her back into the mists.

  “Gabriel—”

  Even as she felt herself succumbing, the cautious, logical part of Charity, who’d spent her entire life shying away from emotions like the ones that were threatening to swamp her, tried to make itself heard.

  “Trust me,” he murmured. Her eyes drifted shut as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. “I want to remember you like this.”

  She felt him move. Heard the click of a shutter.

  “With stars in your eyes, and my name on your lips.”

  His words cut through the clouds in her mind, reminding her that their precious time together was slipping away, like beach sand though her fingers.

  “Look at me, Charity.”

  Refusing to allow herself to cry, and not wanting to waste a single moment, Charity opened her eyes.

  And her heart.

  41

  “Johnny!”

  Jasmine, the girl formerly known as Angel, came running toward him, her bag of gathered shells banging against her tanned bare leg. It was their first trip to the beach this year, and she’d been as free and happy as Johnny had ever seen her.

  Despite her earlier problems with those
mean girls, she’d made friends with two sisters from Ashland, and instead of clinging to him, the way she had last summer, she’d spent much of the day with her new friends, building sand castles and collecting shells. Which would probably be stolen by some other kids her first week back, but since the sun was shining, the picnic lunch from some crab place had been so good, and his sister was behaving a lot like he figured kids who weren’t stuck in the system would do at the coast, Johnny wasn’t going to worry about that. Now.

  “Guess what I found!”

  “A shark?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Moby Dick?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A whale.”

  “No.” Another, more emphatic shake of the head.

  “A pirate ship?”

  “No. But it’s almost as good.” Her face split into a grin even brighter than the diamonds the sun was making on the water. She grabbed his hand with her free one. “Come see.”

  He walked with her about twenty yards down the beach, skirting around tangled green kelp and tide pools that were home to orange and blue starfish. The beach Fred and Ethel had taken them to was crescent shaped, curving around the Shelter Bay lighthouse cliff.

  “You have to promise not to tell anyone,” she said.

  “I promise. How much farther?”

  “It’s right here!” She stopped in front of what appeared to be a cave. “It’s Aladdin’s cave!” she announced. She tugged on his hand. “Come see!”

  In contrast to the sunny day, the cave carved into the cliff was as black as night. As he came in from the light, it took Johnny’s eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. When they did, he saw what had his sister so excited.

  “See!” She was spinning around, arms outstretched, like the tiny ballerina that had danced in a music box his mother had owned years ago. She’d wind the key and dance around their apartment the same way Angel was doing now. “It has diamonds on the walls.”

  From the geology lesson Fred had given some of the older kids earlier, Johnny knew the brilliant chips glinting from the walls and dark sand floor were actually quartz, garnet, and maybe gold, which was probably fool’s gold, since he figured all the real stuff had been dug out over the years.

  “It’s really cool,” he said.

  Which, even though those weren’t diamonds, was true.

  “It’s wonderful!” She hugged herself, as if trying to keep the joy from having her floating up to the sparkling ceiling. “Guess what I was thinking?”

  “What?”

  “That people could live here.”

  “Until the tide came in.” Fred had also taught them about tide charts.

  “There’s a ledge.” She pointed. “We could stay up there until the tide went out. And we could fish and catch crabs and sell diamonds for money to get other things we needed. There’s lots of room. It’d be just like camping out.”

  “It’s something to think about,” he said, not wanting to burst her bubble.

  “We could live here,” she said again, as if he couldn’t fully grasp her wonderful idea. “Then you wouldn’t have to go back to Salem, and I wouldn’t have to go back to Bend. And Social Services would never know where to find us.”

  Oh, shit. Why didn’t someone just take that fish-fillet knife Fred carried on his belt and slice his heart into pieces? It would probably hurt a lot less than this.

  “It’s a great idea,” Johnny said. “But what about school?”

  “You’re ahead of me. You could teach me.”

  She’d apparently thought it through. In eight-year-old fantasy fashion.

  “I think,” he said slowly, “that if we ran away from camp, we’d get Fred and Ethel in a lot of trouble. Then they might have to close down the camp. Which would mean other kids wouldn’t get to come anymore.”

  “Oh.” Her lower lip came out. “That would be sad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Though I wouldn’t mind if those mean girls who were on the bus never got to come again.”

  “Have they been bothering you again?” Maybe he should talk to Ethel. Or maybe Charity, who was really nice. More than one kid had wished out loud that she could be their mother. And although it felt disloyal to his real mom, Johnny had secretly wished the same thing.

  “Not too much. Nobody else likes them, anyway.” She sighed. “I really thought it was a great idea.”

  “It was.” He reached down and tousled her hair. “Maybe I can go to court to become an emancipated minor.” He knew a kid who’d sued to do that last year. “Then I could get Social Services to let me be your guardian and we could move here to Shelter Bay and come down here all the time.”

  She perked up a little at that suggestion. “We could get rent money for an apartment from the diamonds.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He took her hand, squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “Though we’d better leave them here for now. So no other campers will steal them.”

  “Good plan!”

  Although it was too dark to clearly see her face, he could hear the smile return to her voice.

  The Marine was walking toward them, which gave Johnny the feeling that he’d watched them leave and he’d come to check up on them. Which felt kind of strange, since Johnny wasn’t used to that many people caring what happened to him.

  He wondered, since taking care of an eight-year-old’s changing moods was honestly wearing him out, how their mother would ever be able to handle the job. Even if she did ever keep her promise to return.

  Which caused the anxiety that had eased with this day trip to the beach to return to gnaw at his stomach again.

  42

  Charity linked her arm with Gabe’s. “So, how are things going?”

  “Okay. The kids seemed to like the cameras.”

  “Didn’t they?” She beamed at the memory of all those smiling faces.

  Even the tougher kids’ facades had cracked a bit once Gabe had set them taking photos of their siblings during yesterday’s beach trip.

  “How did the dog training go?” he asked.

  Although he would’ve enjoyed watching her work, Ethel had scheduled their sessions at the same time. Something Gabe had decided he was going to have to change. If he was going to be stuck here every afternoon, and it appeared he was, he fully intended to spend those afternoons with Charity.

  Having discovered her penchant for sexy underwear, he was aching to know what she was wearing beneath those snug jeans and Camp Rainbow Kids T-shirt.

  “It went really smoothly. Of course it helps that all the dogs have already been taught to do the basics like sit and stay, so we’re mostly training the kids. Well, yours hasn’t been to school yet, but he’s really smart and picks things up really fast. Of course you may not ever get him back.”

  “Oh?” She smelled like vanilla, probably from the baking. Gabe had never realized, until now, that cupcakes could be an aphrodisiac.

  “There’s this little girl who’s fallen in love with him. Her name’s Angel, though for some reason, she seems to have decided to change her name to Jasmine, but believe me, she looks as if she’s come from central casting to play the role of Zuzu in a remake of It’s a Wonderful Life.”

  That got his attention, which had been imagining spreading chocolate buttercream frosting over her lean, hot body, then slowly licking it off.

  “Her brother’s the redheaded kid, right? About fifteen?”

  “Johnny.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “And you called his age right on the money. How did you know that?”

  “I saw his tattoo. It was one of those DIY ones. One arm reads Mom. The other, Angel.”

  “Oh. That’s so sad.”

  “Yeah. It sucks. He asked me if I’d ever killed anyone.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “The truth. That I had and I hadn’t liked it. We didn’t exactly get off to a great start, but he showed up for the camera class.”

  �
�He probably wants to make sure his sister has photo memories of the summer to take home.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.”

  His fingers were itching with the urge to touch her. Just a hand to her hair. Or her face. But having already created enough of a public stir by showing up with her at the Sea Mist, he resisted the temptation.

  “So, when can we blow this pop stand?”

  “Feel free to leave any time.”

  “I meant us. You and me.” He bent down, his lips next to her ear, and shared some of the things he’d been thinking about doing to her. With her.

  “You’re so bad.” She laughed and lightly slapped his arm.

  “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.” Which had, amazingly, been even better than their first night together.

  She glanced around, as if looking for eavesdroppers, then lowered her voice to something just a few decibels above a whisper and said, “And you won’t tonight, either.”

  She checked her watch. “I need to retrieve the dogs. One of the volunteer counselors decided to set up an agility course. The kids and the dogs were all having a grand time when I got called away to play kitchen assistant to Sedona’s Top Chef. Why don’t I take them back to the house and meet you out at the campground?”

  “Works for me. I’ll pick up dinner.”

  “That’d be great.” She watched as a car pulled into the parking lot and her mother got out. “Uh-oh.” Amanda’s hair was a very uncharacteristic mess. Mascara had streaked down her cheeks. “Hold that thought.”

  Gabe watched as she met her mother halfway. Her mother’s hands were wildly fluttering in the air. She appeared to be talking a mile a minute even as Charity was obviously trying to get a word in edgewise.

  Finally, Charity put her hands on the older woman’s shoulders and said something to her. Then turned and walked back to him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m going to have to take a rain check.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Benton. Her husband. Although she’s really upset and not entirely making sense, I think he’s gone missing.”

  43