“I’ll go talk to the management company,” Cassidy said, flipping her notebook shut and turning toward Austin. “If someone tampered with your scaffolding, then we need to investigate.”
The police chief had shown up thirty minutes ago, and now Cassidy, Wes, and Austin stood outside the house where Austin had been replacing the shingles. The moldering, earthy scent of the marsh rose around them, and the air had thickened with humidity. Or maybe Austin’s heart had just sped as he’d thought about the implications of what he’d learned.
Austin nodded. “Thank you, Cassidy. I appreciate it.”
Cassidy pivoted toward him, a knot between her eyebrows. “But I have to say, Austin—whatever is going on here, I don’t like it. Why would someone be in Skye’s RV last night? Why would they tamper with your jobsite?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“But you said the person the neighbor described fits the description of the mom of the little boy who almost drowned?”
“That’s right. Skye has some kind of connection with the family. She used to date the son.”
“You know who they are, right?” Cassidy asked.
Austin shook his head. “Should I?”
“They own Winthrop Cosmetics. They’re an empire in the beauty industry.”
The news rushed through Austin like a bomb had exploded in his mind. He’d known the family was wealthy—that was obvious. He just hadn’t realized they were that wealthy.
“Ever since she first saw them on the beach, Skye hasn’t been herself,” he finally said. “I’m not sure why exactly.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you,” Austin said.
As soon as Cassidy left, Austin turned to Wes. It was already well beyond lunch time. All of this had taken up the majority of the day. The sun had been setting by 6:30, which only gave them a couple more hours of daylight.
“I’m not sure there’s much use continuing to work here today,” Austin said. “Not only will it be dark soon, but it feels like rain is coming.”
Wes looked at the horizon. “Yeah, there’s a storm blowing in. You’re right.”
“Sorry to waste your time.” Austin picked up some of his equipment and began to move it onto the deck. If it did storm, the last thing he wanted was for the rain to ruin whatever was salvageable.
Wes began helping him. “You didn’t waste my time. But with everything that’s happened, are you still going to be able to help me on that kayak tour on Thursday?”
Austin picked up another piece of scaffolding. “That’s right. I’d almost forgotten.”
“If you’re able, I’d still love your help. No way can I manage a bridal party of sixteen all by myself. Not even with Colton helping me.”
“I’ll be there, then,” Austin said.
Wes put another armful of supplies on the deck before glancing at his watch. That was their last load—at least the last load of what they could easily get to today.
“Well, if we’re done, I need to go to work for a while,” Wes said. “You good?”
Austin nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let me just call Skye and check in with her.”
“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am. Especially if the woman who tampered with the job site is Emma Winthrop Harrington.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Briar, go back inside,” Emma seethed.
“But, Mom! I was having fun—”
“Ruth—take him inside, please. Now.” Emma’s voice left no room for argument.
The nanny took Briar’s arm and led him away, despite his protests. Skye’s heart ached at the sight.
Keep that fire inside you, baby boy. It will help you survive later in life, when things get tough.
It was that same fire inside that had helped Skye survive.
As soon as Briar and Ruth disappeared from sight, Emma stepped closer to Skye, beams shooting from her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was on the beach.” Skye raised her chin, ready to stand her ground. “No crime in that.”
Emma narrowed her eyes even more. “Are you stalking us?”
“How can I be stalking you? I live here. You’re the ones here for a visit. I should ask you that question.”
She raised her hand, shaking her finger at Skye. “Stay away from my son.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong. We were playing soccer.” Skye wasn’t going to let Emma intimidate her. No, she’d allowed that for far too long.
“I don’t care. I don’t want trash like you near him.”
Skye’s cheeks stung, almost as if she’d been slapped. But she didn’t dare show it. Emma was trying to shake her up and didn’t deserve the satisfaction of thinking she’d succeeded.
“Why are you being so overprotective?” Skye asked, her gaze unwavering. “Is there something you’re hiding, Emma?”
“I don’t have anything to hide.”
“You’re acting like it.”
Emma leered closer—so close that Skye could feel the spittle shooting from Emma’s mouth. “I’m being overprotective because you’re nothing but trouble, Skye. You always have been, and you always will be. I don’t want you anywhere near my family, especially my son.”
The fire inside Skye seemed to grow with every change of this conversation. “The son that you love so much you didn’t even notice he was in the ocean and almost drowned.”
Emma pulled her hand back and slapped Skye across the face.
Skye reeled, her skin stinging as she brought her own hand over her cheek.
But what she’d said was true. Briar had probably been out there a good twenty or thirty minutes before his family noticed he was even missing.
“My family is none of your business,” Emma growled. “And I’m a good mom. Just because I had one lapse in judgment doesn’t mean anything. Do you understand me?”
“Well, if it isn’t Skye!” A voice cut through the thick, windy air before Skye could retort.
Skye turned and saw Atticus Winthrop tromping through the sand toward her, a friendly smile on his tanned face.
Of everyone in the family, Atticus had always been Skye’s favorite. He was warmer than his wife and offspring. Maybe it was because he’d also grown up with nothing, only to create this empire he ran now. Or maybe he was just a good businessman and knew a little kindness could help him get what he wanted.
Skye glanced at Emma and saw her demeanor morph from angry and bitter to the perfect child.
Not much had changed. The woman knew how to transform in order to get what she wanted.
“It’s good to see you, Atticus,” Skye said.
He reached out his arms and gave her a hug. “I heard you were living here now. Ian told me.”
“Small world, huh?”
“You can say that again. We picked this place because we were certain we wouldn’t run into anyone we knew.” He chuckled. “But you know how that works sometimes.”
“I do.”
“You still look as beautiful as ever, Skye. It looks like life is finally treating you well.”
“I had a few hard years, but things are just starting to work out.” She glanced at Emma and saw the woman’s skin go a little paler. Skye had chosen her words on purpose. She couldn’t let Emma think she was going to tromp into town and start giving Skye orders. No, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Listen, why don’t you join us for lunch tomorrow?” Atticus asked. “It would be nice to catch up.”
“Lunch?” Skye repeated, uncertain if she’d heard correctly. This family had wanted her permanently out of their lives. They’d even gone as far as to pay her off to insure it happened.
“Yes, lunch. At our place.”
Skye thought about it for only a moment. Another chance to talk to Briar? It was a no-brainer. “I’d love to.”
Atticus smiled. “Great. Come by at one, and we’ll have Frank prepare something for all
of us.”
“Sounds great.”
“I look forward to it.” Atticus turned to Emma. “Your mother is looking for you. It’s time for your massage.”
“Of course,” Emma muttered.
But the woman threw Skye one more dirty look before following after her father.
Chapter Fifteen
Tears tried to flood Skye’s eyes again as she hurried down the road on her bike. With each moment that passed, she felt more and more certain that Briar was her son. The problem was that she had no way to prove it.
Evening was starting to descend, and Skye hated being out here on her bike in the dim lighting. It wasn’t safe, especially when she had no choice but to ride on the main highway through town. There was little shoulder on the side of the road. No, instead there were patches of sand and huge ditches filled to the brim with standing water.
Emma’s words echoed in her mind. Skye had brought trouble with her wherever she went when she’d been a teenager. But she’d grown up since then. She’d changed. She knew she had.
Yet that didn’t stop the doubts from creeping in.
Maybe Skye would be a terrible mother.
One thing felt certain, though. Emma was hiding something. So was Ian.
Was the whole family in on this?
It didn’t make sense.
And it only made her want to push harder.
Skye had to know for sure what the truth was. But she had no idea how to go about discovering that. She had so few resources.
Her work brought her fulfillment and built the simple life she’d always wanted. But she was one emergency away from being totally broke.
She pedaled harder.
A fat raindrop hit her on the forehead. Rain? She had no idea it was supposed to rain today.
Just as the thought landed in her mind, the plops became a downpour.
Skye gripped her handlebars tighter. She needed to get back. She could call someone to give her a ride, but by the time they got here to pick her up, she might as well ride back to her camper herself.
She stayed as close to the edge of the road as she could when she saw headlights behind her. An SUV loaded with kayaks on top and bikes on the bike rack slowly went around her.
Not much farther. She only had about a mile to her place. She could get there in five or six minutes if she pushed herself hard enough.
Another car coming toward her blinded her a moment. The headlights were bright against the otherwise dim sky around her.
This had all been a bad idea, hadn’t it?
She glanced behind her and saw two more vehicles coming. She braced herself for them to pass. With the rain, it would be harder for them to see her. The reflectors on the back of her bike should help, but they didn’t guarantee anything.
The first car passed—a little too fast—but it eased away from the edge of the road to give her space.
Skye flung some wet hair out of her eyes and pushed forward. Thoughts of her conversation with Ian still churned in her mind.
She’d been living under this oppressive weight for a long time—a weight brought on by guilt and shame. Even since becoming a Christian, she hadn’t been able to shrug the feelings off. Maybe for a moment or two. But never permanently.
But if people liked her, it needed to be for who she was. Skye was tired of hiding. She needed to tell her friends the truth about her past. If they walked away then they were never really her friends.
It would hurt. But it was better than being around fair-weather relationships. She should have learned that lesson by now.
She glanced behind her again.
She just needed the other car to pass, and then she didn’t see any more vehicles. She’d be home free after that.
The car edged closer. She could hear it. Feel it. Or was it an SUV?
It was hard to tell. It appeared to be coming fast, though.
She pulled as close as she could to the edge of the asphalt. She knew if she went off the pavement, she’d crash. There was a good two-inch drop-off between the blacktop and the sand—enough that it could make her fall.
Skye wiped the water from her eyes, desperate to see the road.
She heard the car behind her, getting closer.
Almost here.
The driver would see her and pull toward the center line to pass. It was required by law to share the road with bikers.
She glanced behind her again. The vehicle had almost reached her—but the driver wasn’t pulling over to give her space.
Skye sucked in a breath. Did the driver not see her?
She waved a hand in the air, hoping to get his attention.
Just as she did, she felt the car edge closer. Too close
It brushed against her, accelerating as it went past.
She lost control of her bike. It wobbled.
Skye blinked, trying to get the water out of her eyes while gripping the handlebars to maintain control.
But before she could catch herself, she toppled into the sand next to her and heard the gut-wrenching mangle of metal.
Austin barreled down the highway, mentally replaying Skye’s frantic phone call over and over again. It had been hard to make out what she was saying between the wind blowing into her phone, the rain, and her obvious anxiety that pitched her voice higher than normal.
All he knew was that there had been accident, and she was okay. She’d asked him to come pick her up.
The windshield wipers on his truck lunged back and forth, pushing the rain out of the way and allowing him to see glimpses into the darkness.
He worried about Skye riding her bike everywhere. He knew it was more cost-efficient than keeping gas in her car, but some of the drivers around here had no common sense and no respect for the speed limit.
The thought burned him up inside.
He held his breath as he reached the area where Skye said she would be.
Austin scanned the highway. Though there were beach houses on either side of the road, most were empty right now. That meant this strip of the streets might as well be abandoned.
There!
He spotted a lone figure standing on the side of the road.
Putting on his flashers, Austin pulled over and jumped out of his truck. He jogged toward Skye and gripped her arms, desperate to see for himself that she was okay.
Her hair clung to her face, and her clothes clung to her skin. She was drenched. But he didn’t see any blood or any other signs she’d been injured.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gruff with emotion.
She nodded. “Just shaken.”
Austin didn’t bother to ask her what happened. Not now. Not out here. Instead, he took her elbow. “Come on. Get in my truck. It’s not safe out here.”
He waited until she was tucked safely in his cab. Then he grabbed her bike—a mangled mess, but he wasn’t going to leave it—and put it in the back of his truck. He climbed inside and cranked on the heat.
It wasn’t cold outside, but Skye was shivering, probably from both being drenched and from adrenaline.
He wished he had a blanket or something else to offer her.
He turned down the stereo until the twang of country music was barely audible in the background. The music was offset by the sound of the windshield wipers slapping water across the glass and the pitter-patter of rain. The sound helped to even out his heart rate.
As much as he’d love to stay here and chat, he needed to get off the road. They could talk later. He did a U-turn and started back to his place, reaching over to squeeze Skye’s knee. He left his hand there, and she didn’t fight it.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, glancing at her. Had something else happened? Something more than this accident?
Skye nodded, her gaze still vacant. “Yeah, I landed in the sand. I can’t say the same for my bike.”
“What happened?”
“I was riding back when someone came by too fast. I flew off my bike—and it was a good thing I did. The SUV
ran over the tire. I don’t even think the driver realized he hit me.”
Austin wasn’t so sure about that. His scaffolding accident, and now this? It was too early to jump to any conclusions, but he didn’t like two “coincidences” like that happening two days in a row.
And it was right after this new family from Skye’s past rolled into town.
“I know I shouldn’t have been out,” Skye said. “It was too wet. That storm popped up out of nowhere.”
“You can always call me if you need me.”
“I know. I do. And I appreciate that. I just thought I could make it.”
Austin pulled to a stop at his place. Maybe it had been presumptuous to bring her back here. But he needed to know she was okay.
He climbed out of the truck and hurried around to help Skye out. As she slid to the ground, he took her hand. They ran toward his porch, but Skye put on brakes before they reached the steps.
He paused and turned toward her, worried something was wrong. To his surprise, she closed her eyes and let the rain hit her face.
What in the world was she doing?
She didn’t seem to be in distress. No, she actually looked at peace, like the rain was washing away her worries and fears.
“Skye?”
She opened her eyes, and her gaze met his. There was something new there. Conviction? Determination?
He wasn’t sure.
“I mess up things, Austin,” she murmured.
“We’ve all messed up.” Where was she going with this?
“No, I have a track record,” she shouted over the rain. “It’s usually my fault.”
He squinted as moisture from above poured into his eyes. “Do you want to go inside and talk?”
Skye raked her hair out of her eyes and stared up at him with big, expressive eyes that said more than words could. “If I go inside with you, I’m going to kiss you.”
Austin’s heart rate surged. Had he just heard her correctly? “Is that a bad thing?”
Something electric zipped through her gaze, and she stepped closer. “I don’t know. Is it?”
Austin met her in one stride and pulled her into his arms. His gaze went to her lips. Her full, plump lips. Her lithe body. Her long hair that was now plastered to her neck.
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