by Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to the child. “Kristie, this is David Caldwell. He lives here on the island. David, my daughter, Kristie.”
“Hi.” He held out his hand. The child hesitated, then nodded and put her small hand in his. It was like holding a sand dollar, soft and quivering on his palm.
He didn’t let his gaze stray toward the heavy brace on her leg, nor the child-size wheelchair at the edge of the blanket. But maybe he understood what had wiped the sense of wonder from Allison’s blue eyes.
“So you’ve come to spend Christmas at the beach, just like your momma used to do when she was your age.”
Her eyes lit. “Did you know my mommy when she was little?”
“I sure did. I taught her everything she knows about the ocean.” He glanced at Allison. No wedding band on her left hand, only the faintest pale line. “Didn’t I?”
“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten most of it.” Her smile brushed him off as coolly as a sweep of her hand would a sand fly. “It’s too long ago.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Yes.” Her mouth clamped shut on the word, dismissing their friendship as if it had never been.
Well. He sat back on his heels. Allison clearly didn’t want to go back to the way things had been.
But as for him—
He hadn’t changed. He wanted to see his angel-girl again.
Chapter Two
David didn’t look as if her rebuff had had much effect on him, Allison decided. He sat barefoot in the sand, much as he had at ten or twelve.
He was sun-browned, as he’d been years ago; his hair streaked to a sand color, and his eyes the changeable blue-green of the ocean. And he still had that easy lopsided smile that had once lodged itself in her heart.
But he wasn’t that boy any longer. The height and breadth of him startled her, as if some trick of photography had taken the boy she knew and turned him into a man.
David sifted sand through his fingers, apparently content to laze on the beach all day. A spurt of irritation hit her. Was that what he’d turned into—a beachcomber?
“What brings you back after all this time?” he asked.
It had been a lifetime, but he didn’t need to know that. “I promised to show Kristie the island. What are you doing these days?” Besides walking on the beach. She didn’t add that, but he probably caught the implication in her tone.
His eyes crinkled, as if he laughed at her on the inside. He’d always done that when she’d betrayed her ignorance of this natural space between mainland and ocean that he called home.
“A little of this, a little of that. I help at the inn, run dolphin tours for the tourists.”
Exasperation filled her. “You’re a bright person, David. You could have done anything with your life.”
The moment the words were out, she regretted them. Her own track record wasn’t exactly stellar.
“This is what I want to do.” His voice was gentle. “Maybe you and Kristie would like to go with me one day to see the dolphins.”
“I’m afraid we won’t have time for that.” She glanced at the cottage, her only tangible asset she’d held on to since the divorce. It was a wonder Richard hadn’t tried to take that, too. “I’ll be too busy getting the cottage fixed up.”
She’d have to work quickly if she wanted to get the place on the market soon. At least she had her priorities straight now: sell the cottage so she’d have a nest egg; get Kristie through her next surgery; start the new job in Atlanta that would make her and her daughter independent. That left no time in her schedule for something as frivolous as a dolphin tour.
“I guess you’ll want the cottage in shape for a real sea-island Christmas. Maybe I can give you a hand.”
“I can take care of it myself.” She stood, brushing sand from her slacks. “Time to go now, Kristie.”
David picked up the wheelchair. “Let me.”
She snatched it from him. “I don’t need any help, thanks.”
No help, no one to depend on. She’d learned that the hard way. From now on she would be tough and practical, and she’d depend only on herself.
“If that’s the way you want it.” A hint of sadness showed in David’s eyes.
“It is.”
He shrugged. “See you around, then.”
No, she wouldn’t see him. She’d been rude enough that David wouldn’t come back again, and that was for the best.
So why did she feel as if she’d just lost something important?
Chapter Three
“Are you sure she won’t come over to supper?” David’s mother turned from the stove to give him a perplexed frown. “There’s plenty, and we’d love to have them.”
He couldn’t help but smile. There was always plenty to eat at the Dolphin Inn, even when there were no guests checked in. His mother and his gran were used to cooking for a horde of Caldwells.
“Not today, Momma. Maybe later.” Maybe not at all, judging by the way his angel-girl had brushed him off.
Gran, her blue eyes wise behind her wire-rimmed glasses, handed him a cookie tin. “You take these cookies for the little girl, then. She won’t turn down something for her child.”
He kissed her firm cheek. “What makes you so smart?”
“A lot of livin’.” She swatted him gently on the arm. “You remember, boy. Whatever’s wrong there, Christmas works wonders on the heart.”
Gran’s words lingered in his mind as he drove down the lane to Allison’s cottage. Christmas works wonders. Would even Christmas be enough to bring back the friendship he’d cherished?
He pulled into the drive, turned off the engine, and hesitated, recognizing the tightness in his belly for what it was. When had he ever been nervous about seeing Allison?
Something’s hurt her bad, Father, he prayed silently. Something even worse than the child’s problems. Show me what I can do.
He went to the back door.
“David.” Allison clearly hadn’t expected to see him. “I’m rather busy.”
“This won’t take a minute.” He edged past her into the kitchen. The child sat at the round oak table, looking at him warily. “I brought something.” He held up the tin.
Allison stiffened. “I don’t need—”
“It’s not for you.” He handed the tin to Kristie. “My gran was baking Christmas cookies. Thought you might like some.”
“For me?” Her cheeks grew pink when she lifted the lid and saw the iced bells and reindeer. “May I, Mommy? Please?”
Allison’s shell seemed to melt when she looked at her daughter. “Just one now. I’m making supper.” She glanced at the elderly gas range. “If I can get that monster lit, anyway.”
He’d learned his lesson when he’d picked up that wheelchair without permission. “May I?” he asked.
She studied his face before she nodded. “Okay.”
She watched him as he got the burners going, her attitude that of someone looking at a museum piece. “Are you sure it’s safe?” Her glance toward Kristie was fiercely protective.
“Seems okay. But you’d best not use the oven until I can check it out.”
Her face tightened. “I can hire someone to do that.”
“Sure you can. But why should you?” He leaned against the stove. “Way I see it, you’ve got a lot to do to get this place ready for Christmas. I’m not busy just now. I’d like to give you a hand.”
There. He’d said it. He held his breath, waiting for the rejection he was sure would come.
Chapter Four
David’s offer of help hung in the air between them. Instinct told Allison to reject both his help and his friendship.
He reminded her too much of the girl she used to be—the dreamer who’d expected promises would last forever.
But she already felt overwhelmed by the amount of work that had to be done on the cottage, and despite her quick words, she really couldn’t afford to hire someone.
“Maybe you’d better see
how bad the cottage is before you make an offer like that.”
She didn’t miss the relief on his face, and it gave her a twinge of shame. David couldn’t help it that he reminded her she’d once seen the world with a foolish sense of wonder.
She led the way into the living room. Showing him around didn’t commit her to anything, after all.
“This doesn’t look bad.” He tugged at a piece of dangling wallpaper. “The paper will come off, and a coat of paint will do wonders.”
A wave of relief swept over her at his assessment.
He nodded toward the steps. “How’s the upstairs?”
“Not as bad as this.” She hesitated, caught between what she wanted and what she needed. “Are you sure you have time to help?”
His smile was like sunlight on the water. “Absolutely. It’ll be pure pleasure getting this place ready for you and Kristie to enjoy. It’s been empty too long.”
She almost told him she wasn’t getting it ready to enjoy. She was getting it ready to sell.
Some instinctive caution stilled the words. David might not be so eager to help if he knew she had no intention of staying. Thoughts of her dwindling bank account and Kristie’s upcoming surgery hung heavy. Perhaps it would be best if David didn’t know her plans.
She wasn’t lying to him. She just wasn’t telling him everything.
“Well, that’s great.” She managed to produce a smile. “Since you’re here, maybe you’d give me a hand with these windows.” Anyone buying the place would want to enjoy the ocean breezes. “They’re stuck.”
“Sure thing.” He gave the nearest window an experimental tug. “Do you have a knife I can use to loosen this paint?”
She should not be noticing the way his muscles flexed, nor the glint of sunlight on his tanned arms. “I’ll get one.”
She scurried to the kitchen and back. She gave him the knife, then started to step away. David took her hand.
“Just hold this for a minute—” he pressed her palm against the frame “—until I can wedge the blade in place.”
Inches separated them. He was so close she could count the sun wrinkles around his eyes, smell his fresh masculine scent, hear the quick intake of his breath.
She was not attracted to David Caldwell, she told herself sternly, trying to control her own breathing. He was nothing but an old childhood friend.
So why couldn’t she get her pulse under control?
Chapter Five
“Please, Kristie.” Allison’s voice floated down the stairs of the cottage the next day. “You have to exercise to get well.”
The child’s answer was muted, stubborn, and uncooperative.
Clearly Allison had a basketful of troubles. Talking with an old friend might help, if David could get her to open up.
He resumed scraping as she came down. “Hey, Ally.”
“I see you still say ‘hey’ instead of ‘hi.’” Her smile flickered. “I guess things don’t change on the island.”
“Not much. Folks get married, have babies, have troubles, but life keeps on going.”
She picked up a scraper and started working next to him. If she’d seen his words as a conversation opener, she ignored the invitation.
Maybe he’d best be a bit more direct. “Sounds like that little girl of yours is as stubborn as her momma.”
Allison ripped a strip of paper loose. “She won’t exercise. The doctors say she has to build up strength for her next surgery.”
“Next surgery?” Poor child. Poor mother, too.
She was silent for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to confide in him. “Kristie was born with a malformed hip. She’s had a series of operations. The one next month should be the last.”
His heart hurt for them. “So you feel like you have to push her.”
“It’s not just the exercises. She doesn’t want the surgery.” She shoved the scraper so hard it dug into the plaster. “I understand that, but we can’t give up now.”
He leaned against the wall, studying her determined expression, trying to understand. “So you brought her here.”
She turned, her arm brushing his as she looked out at the beach. “I remembered how peaceful the island is.”
He had a brief, fleeting memory of the angel-girl who’d loved the island so much on her vacation visits. She wanted Kristie to have that, too.
“I thought this place would be good for her—that the change in scene would encourage her to try again.”
She was talking to him as easily as she always had. Maybe that meant he could ask the question that was haunting his thoughts.
“What about Kristie’s father? Doesn’t he help with her?”
Her face tightened. “No.”
He waited, sure there was more.
“Everything always had to be perfect for Richard. His wife, his car, his apartment. When his daughter wasn’t…he walked away.” She looked at him, blue eyes direct. “Was that what you wanted to know?”
Chapter Six
Maybe she’d been wrong to come back to the island. Allison unloaded groceries from the car, frowning. She’d thought this would be good for Kristie, but Kristie hadn’t responded.
She longed to see her daughter running along the beach the way she used to, arms spread wide as if to take flight with the gulls. No classes, no dance or music lessons, no approved play dates with children from her mother’s social set. Just freedom.
And David. She seemed to see two figures on the shining sand left by the ebb tide. Always the tanned gangly boy had encouraged, taught, shared the wonders of his world. How much credit was David’s for the happiness she’d found here?
That was past. This was now. She hauled the remaining bag from the truck and slammed the lid. David had his life, such as it was. Peaceful, probably, but certainly lacking in ambition.
And she had hers. She had to keep her eyes pinned on her goals. Sell the cottage. Get Kristie through her final surgery. Start the job that would make them independent.
Repeating the words in her mind, she went into the cottage.
She set groceries on the table, registering the sounds from the living room. David seemed to be using her absence to play a game with Kristie instead of getting on with the painting.
She couldn’t complain, she supposed, since she wasn’t paying him. But still—
She stopped in the doorway, her annoyance draining away.
“Simon says, ‘Put your hand on your head,’” Kristie said importantly, doing the motion. “Sit on the floor.”
David, smiling, sat down.
“I caught you!” Kristie crowed. “I didn’t say ‘Simon says.’ You have to be it.”
“Maybe your momma should,” he suggested.
For a moment Allison’s throat was too tight to respond. Kristie, moving as if the heavy brace on her leg weighed nothing. Laughing as she hadn’t laughed in what seemed like months.
“I’ll be it,” she managed finally. “Just let me put the cold things in the fridge first.” She turned away before either of them could see the tears in her eyes.
“I’ll give you a hand.” David followed her to the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind,” he said softly. “I didn’t let her do anything too lively.”
“Mind?” She reached to him impulsively. “I’m grateful.”
He caught her hand in a strong grasp that warmed her to her heart. “No need. She’s a great kid. Just like her momma.”
She tried to ignore the way her heart thumped. Perhaps David’s low-key approach would be as good for Kristie as it had once been for her.
“Mommy, guess what?” Kristie stood in the doorway, bracing herself with her hands. “David’s going to take us out on his boat tomorrow to look for dolphins. Isn’t that great?”
Allison pulled her hand away from his, her gaze chilling. Maybe David was good for Kristie. But he had no right to make plans for her—for them—without talking to her first.
Chapter Seven
David steered the
Spyhop slowly into the channel. Kristie, life jacket bright over her navy jacket, bounced with excitement. Allison clasped her daughter, every tense line of her body saying she didn’t want to be here.
“I’ve never run you aground before. I won’t today.”
She turned a startled face to him. “I don’t think that.”
“You grip that rail any tighter, you’re going to bend it.”
“Not unless I’ve been eating my collard greens.”
The unexpected response took him back to evenings when Allison had joined the Caldwells for supper. Gran had teased her to try things her own mother wouldn’t have served on her table.
“Come to supper and you can have some.” He liked seeing her face relax at his teasing. Allison shouldn’t have to go through life tensed up as if waiting for a blow to fall.
“When will we see the dolphins?” Kristie edged forward.
“We’re headed for the sound on the other side of the island. The pod is usually there about now.”
“And if not?” Allison smiled as she got in a little teasing of her own. “How will the dolphin expert explain that?”
He shook his head in mock sorrow. “I don’t know. They might make me give back my degree.”
“Degree?”
He enjoyed her surprise. “Oceanography. Sorry, sugar. I know you had me pegged as a beach bum.”
“I did not.” But the flush in her cheeks said differently. “I remember you talked about college that last Christmas.”
He nodded, making the wide turn around the end of the island. They skimmed over the waves toward the sound.
He remembered that last Christmas, too—especially the look on her mother’s face when she’d seen them walking along the beach, hand in hand. “You never came back. I was sorry.”
“My mother always had other plans for Christmas.” She smoothed her hand along Kristie’s hair, ruffled by the wind. “And then—well, college, marriage…“
“Life intervened,” he suggested.