He shook off the thought and searched his mind for a change of subject. Thankfully the sound system did it for him.
“Oh, I love this song.” She smiled and her face took on a faraway look. “It reminds me of home and snow and my family.”
“Tell me about home, Casey.”
For the next few minutes, his companion waxed poetic about life in the Missouri Ozarks, about a close-knit family that included three cousins who were like sisters to her. Ben listened and tried to imagine what that sort of life was like.
Sisters, he understood. He had four of them. But a family that let nothing come between them? Who were so close that their property literally adjoined one another? That he didn’t quite have a handle on.
Too soon she finished her monologue and turned her baby blues his direction. “That’s enough about me. Tell me about your family, Ben.”
He swiveled on his stool and leaned his elbow on the counter. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about that. It’d bore you, and it’s such a beautiful day. How about we get out of here?”
She hesitated before nodding, then followed him around the counter and out onto the sand. Her Ole Miss sweatshirt and running shorts complemented her slender frame and fresh-scrubbed good looks, making her appear more like a teenager than a grown woman. She certainly was a fresh face among the usual California blonds he tended to date.
Not that he had dated anyone in a long time.
Ben reached for his board and hitched it up under his arm. “So, what would you like to do now? Looks like you’ve been running. I don’t guess you’d be interested in a walk.”
Casey placed her hand on his arm. “You know what I’d really like to do?”
“What?”
“Watch you surf.” He must have looked as surprised as he felt because she quickly added, “Only if you want to, I mean.”
“Yeah, sure, of course I want to.” Ben paused to search her face for genuine interest. “Are you sure? I mean, I’ll be the one having all the fun.”
“I assure you,” she said with a giggle, “watching will be much more fun for me than putting on a wetsuit and making a fool of myself.”
“I don’t know, Casey.” He swept his gaze in her direction, then shamed himself for doing so. She was just so pretty, all the more so because she seemed to have no idea of her beauty. “I think you’d look much better in a wetsuit than I do.”
“We’ll never know, will we?” She tapped his arm, then pointed to the shack where beach chairs were rented. “I’ll grab a chair and you go do whatever it is that surfers do.”
“Um, Casey, we surf.” Ben waved at the familiar face behind the counter at Jim’s Surf Shack. “Hey there, Jim. A chair and a towel for the lady, please.”
“A towel?”
“The wind gets cold down by the water, Casey.”
Jim came around to give him a bear hug, then grabbed a chair and towel. When Casey reached into her pocket, he waved her money away.
“It’s on the house, little lady. Your boyfriend here saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”
“Cardiac arrest,” Ben said by way of explanation as they crossed the sand to the water’s edge. “And I didn’t save his life. The doctors did that. I just kept his ticker going until he could get into surgery.”
Casey accepted the towel and watched while he set the chair a few feet back from the water’s edge. “Do you always do that?”
Ben looked up sharply. “Do what?”
“Refuse gratitude. Sometimes that’s all a person has to give.”
He opened his mouth but found he had no answer.
“Never mind.” Casey settled into the chair and crossed her legs, then draped the towel over them. “Go ahead. Wow me.”
“Wow me?” He grinned despite himself. “Is that a command, Sleeping Beauty?”
“It most certainly is, Prince Charming.” She affected a bored pose. “To the waves with ye before I’m forced to nap.”
Ben reached down to snap the safety line around his ankle, then straightened to see Casey’s questioning look. “In case the board and I get separated.”
A few minutes later, with the board beneath him and the rolling Pacific all around, he thought of her question about gratitude. Did he really do as she said?
True, he hated to be complimented, but with good reason. He’d fought the monster of pride most of his adult life. Born the nearest thing to a crown prince in a royal family that valued the male bloodline hadn’t exactly equipped him for the life of humility the Lord called His people to.
Ben turned the board and waited for a good wave, searching the coastline until he found Casey Forrester. As if she sensed his gaze on her, she stood.
His ride wasn’t particularly impressive, but Casey seemed to think it was. She laughed and clapped, then ducked away from the water he shook off as he approached.
“Again!” she called.
“You sound like my nephew.”
“Oh, come on.” She pointed to the water. “That was a little wave. I want to see you ride a big one.”
“You do?” He gave her a sideways look. “What if I’m not that good?”
Casey dropped her towel onto the chair and planted her fists on her hips. “You’re kidding, right?”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “I might be.”
She swatted his shoulder. “Stop being so modest, Ben. Just once more, please?”
He knew she was right about his abilities. What he didn’t know was how she’d figured him for an expert surfer.
This time it was a beauty, one of those perfect waves with just enough potential to warn the average surfer away. As always, the moment his feet hit the board everything went into slow motion.
Balance.
Speed.
Instinct.
Ben filled his lungs with salt air while adrenaline pumped a rhythm through his veins. He ducked under the curling water and rode the wave out until he could see daylight and Casey Forrester again.
As he floated to shore, he saw her. She feigned boredom, then giggled.
“Did I wow you?” he shouted.
“Oh, I suppose it was all right,” she answered in a teasing tone. “Wow is such a strong word.”
“All right. Watch this!”
Ben began to clown around, doing the handstand he’d perfected during his freshman year at UCLA. Casey rose and pointed to a spot behind him.
At least that’s how it looked from upside down.
He flipped back to a standing position and opened his mouth to speak. That’s when the wall of water
hit him.
Chapter 6
Casey threw down the towel and raced for the spot where Ben went down. She barely felt the frigid water as it pounded against her legs and fought her progress.
One after another, the waves slammed her, but thankfully none were as large as the one that took Ben down. When the water reached a depth where she could no longer run, she dove in and began to swim.
Forcing her eyes open against the sting of the salt water, Casey kicked off her sneakers. Years of competitive swimming had not prepared her for this dip in the icy Pacific, and yet she couldn’t turn back.
Ben was out there somewhere.
Something large and black caught her attention and she prayed it wasn’t a shark. Casey bobbed up to catch her breath and saw Ben’s board floating in the distance. Unless the line snapped, Ben should be attached to the board.
Casey ducked back under the water and swam toward the black object. Another surfer reached Ben before she could and yanked him out of the water.
She surfaced in time to see the surfer drape an un-conscious Ben facedown over his board. Blood trickled from a spot just above his right eyebrow and disappeared into a dark pool in the ocean. His lips moved as if trying to speak, but no sound emerged.
“You, there!” the surfer called. “Can you help me? We need to get him out of here before the sharks get a whiff of all this blood!”
Following the young man�
��s directions, she climbed onto Ben’s board and waited until he positioned his board beside her. With Ben’s head and shoulders on one board and his legs on the other, they paddled at a maddeningly slow pace toward shore. Trying to speed up their progress only brought a warning.
Any faster, he asserted, and Ben would slip from the board.
Any slower, she retorted, and the tide would haul them back out in the opposite direction. By the time they reached shallow water, Casey felt like screaming.
The surfer eased Ben onto the sand, then stood back to address the knot of people gathered there. “Anyone know CPR?”
Casey turned Ben onto his back and put her training as a lifeguard at the YWCA into use. She’d repeated the process twice before she realized her patient was staring up at her.
“Hey there, Ben.” She forced a tone of calm into her voice.
“Don’t stop, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered. “You were just beginning to wow me.”
~
The next hour was the most humiliating of Ben’s life. Thankfully it was Jerry Abrego who was on call. Any other EMT and he’d never hear the end of it.
Ben looked around and determined he was in the back of the rig, his back flat on the gurney. “You rolling alone, Jerry?” he managed.
“Yeah; they’re still shorthanded. Funny thing is, the cap tried to get you on your cell. Now sit still and let me do my magic.”
He grunted as Jerry began his work. “Where—is—she?”
Jerry nodded toward the front of the vehicle, then bandaged him up in silence.
“She—okay?”
Ben had no memory of how he got from the water to the beach, but he had no problem remembering awakening to find Casey leaning over him.
When Jerry finished, he gestured toward the glass separating the treatment area from the cab. “Your girlfriend?”
“Nah.” Ben eased into a sitting position. “Just someone I—” He paused to let a wave of dizziness pass, then continued, “Met recently.”
“You think I don’t recognize her, buddy?” Jerry chuckled. “She’s the dead woman from your daddy’s store.”
He shook off the dizziness and shrugged his shoulders to ease the tightness between them. The fog cleared and he could think again. His first thought was of the woman who’d rescued him.
“Yeah, about Casey. . .” Ben leveled Jerry a serious look and exhaled. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything to her about my connection to the store.”
“You think she doesn’t know?”
“Nah. She thinks the name’s a coincidence. I didn’t see any reason to correct her.”
Jerry shrugged. “Suit yourself, buddy, but don’t you think she’s gonna figure it out eventually?”
Ben slid off the gurney and waited for his sense of balance to catch up. When the rig’s back door came into focus, he psyched himself up and headed toward it.
“Ben, hey, where’re you going?”
“I need to see how she is. You did check her out before you worked on me, didn’t you?” Ben’s feet hit the sand as he held tight to the door and then the bumper. The world tilted once, then righted. He heard Jerry follow a step behind.
“Yeah, I gave her a couple of blankets and turned on the heater in the cab. Told her to knock on the glass if she needed anything. Hey! Go slow, Ben!” Jerry called. “Come back here. You know the drill. You blacked out. I gotta take you in to check for trauma.”
“Forget it, Jerry. I’m fine. The only trauma I’ve suffered is to my ego. I need to see Casey. I’m such an idiot. This is all my fault.” He made his way around the rig to yank on the passenger door. “Casey? Are you okay?” She nodded but he didn’t buy it. “Hey, Jerry, how about we take her in to get checked out?”
“No.” Casey sat bolt upright. “I’m fine, really. I’m more worried about you. Are you okay?” She touched the bandage, and tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“I insist you see a doctor, Casey. You have no idea what damage hypothermia can do.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m from Missouri where it actually gets cold in November.” She fixed him with a stubborn glare. “I insist you see a doctor, Ben. You’ve had a head injury.”
Jerry stood back, hands on his hips, and chuckled. “Yep. You’re two of a kind, all right.” He turned to look in Ben’s direction. “You sure she’s not your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“All right then, kids,” Jerry said, “how about I take you two home?”
While Jerry loaded Ben’s board, Casey shifted over to allow Ben a spot up front. Her lips held a slight tinge of blue but otherwise she seemed to be unharmed.
“Hey, Casey, I was an idiot clowning around like that.” He smoothed a strand of wet hair off her forehead while he checked her face for bruises. Under cursory examination, he decided she had suffered nothing worse than a swim in cold water without a wetsuit.
Truthfully, Ben was glad to have an excuse to sit, although he’d never let on to Jerry or Casey. When Jerry rolled the rig to a stop in front of Casey’s apartment in the attic of a converted beach shack, he realized he only lived two blocks away from her.
“I’ll walk it from here, Jerry,” he said as he opened the door and climbed out.
“No you won’t,” Casey and Jerry said in unison.
Ben grinned. “She your girlfriend, Jerry?”
“Very funny,” Casey said.
“Nice place you got here, Casey,” Ben said.
“I’d hoped for a cottage on the beach with white roses and a balcony overlooking the water, but then I saw this.”
“She’s a regular comedian, Ben,” Jerry said. “I say she’s a keeper.”
“On that note, I’ll be saying good-bye and thank you to both of you.”
Sliding over to the door, Casey let the blanket fall from her shoulders before climbing out. She’d walked halfway to the front steps before she turned abruptly. Ben stopped short to keep from slamming into her.
Casey took a step backward and studied her nails. “It’s been an interesting day, Ben.”
He touched the bandage, then turned the gesture into a salute. “I’m glad I could wow you, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Oh, you did better than that, Ben.” She lifted her bare foot to pointedly study her toes. “You knocked my socks off. My shoes, too.”
“Yeah, about that. If you tell me what size you wear I’ll replace them.” Her lip began to tremble, giving evidence that the fair maiden was not yet over her distress, and he jumped into action by reaching for her elbow. “Let me help you.”
“Are you kidding?” She stepped away from his grasp and took two steps up the stairs before she turned to chuckle. “I don’t want to have to give you mouth-to-mouth again.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Casey. That was the best part of the whole day.” Ben leaned on the stair rail and offered her the broadest grin he could manage under the circumstances. “In fact,” he said slowly, “Miss Forrester, I can honestly say that you wowed me.”
Chapter 7
Casey’s vacation wasn’t starting off as the relaxing week she’d hoped. Rather, she spent the beginning of it wrapped in one of Mama’s quilts with a box of tissues at her side. She’d missed church in favor of treating her fever and aches with chicken soup and hot tea.
By Monday afternoon, she’d exhausted her supply of tissues and moved on to paper towels. Her Jane Austen videos were groaning from overuse, and she had made short work of the pile of books she’d set aside to read in her spare time.
She’d made excellent progress in her sketches for the spring windows, even though the job had not yet been assigned to her. Still, memories of her day with Ben Callahan intruded. He popped up in the books, the videos, and even the few TV shows she watched.
Every time a handsome man attempted to sweep a woman off her feet, Casey thought of Ben and his silly handstand. When a chaste kiss or the proper words of adoration turned the
heroine to mush, she remembered Ben’s parting words: “You wowed me.” Even now they made her smile.
Then her cell phone rang.
She’d been careful to avoid calling Mama this weekend, choosing to e-mail instead. There was no need in causing her mother worry, and worry she would if Mama knew Casey was ill.
Casey leaned over the edge of her chair and fished for the phone beneath the magazines she’d collected on a brief foray to the corner grocery this morning. While she collected the phone, she also snagged another tissue.
“Casey, it’s Ben.”
“Ben?” She dropped her tissue into the overflowing trash can and sat up straight. “How did you get my number?”
A long pause.
“Ben?”
“You sound like you’re sick.”
Casey reached for another tissue and dabbed at her nose. “It’s nothing,” she said.
Another pause. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry, Casey.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. My cold will be gone in a few days but you’ll bear the scar of our day at the beach forever.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I worked half a shift last night, so when I got off I went to the early service at church. My sister was there and caught me with my bandage. Next thing I knew, she had me at the pharmacy buying stuff to get rid of the scar.” He chuckled. “And here I’m supposed to be the medical professional.”
“Yes, well, trust a woman to know about skin care.” A thought occurred. “Say, do you go to church around here?” When he told her the name, she shook her head. “I can’t believe it. That’s where I go. You said you go to the late service?”
“When I’m not working a weekend shift, I do. You must be one of those who likes to get up early.”
Casey shifted positions and burrowed into her nest of covers. “Now you know my secret. I’m a country girl at heart. Up with the chickens and sound asleep before the evening news. I figure that’s why I’m not much of a sports fan. I never can stay awake to see who wins.”
He laughed, then his voice returned to its serious tone. “Casey, I was wondering—that is, if you’re not doing anything—well, of course, you’re not because you’re sick but. . .”
Dreaming of a White Christmas Page 4