Robbie cringed. His own words were like venom in his veins.
“I went back to my cabin, packed all my stuff, and left.”
He tried to sit on the arm of the sofa but missed, landing his tailbone on the floor with a thud. No words came when he opened his mouth. Tell her everything, the Holy Spirit seemed to say.
“You always told me to be brave. But Robbie Matthews, you aren’t so brave yourself. You aren’t so loving, either. You used me to get you through high school and college. It was only a matter of time before you ditched me for someone else.”
Those had to be her father’s words. Not Keira’s. She knew better. He couldn’t bear to look at her.
“You’re wrong,” he said.
The music, which had transitioned to an upbeat worship song, cut off. There was rustling in the kitchen, where she’d dropped her purse earlier, followed by footsteps heading toward the door.
“Keira, don’t forget. You gave up on me.”
For a moment, the only sound was the hum from the mini fridge. Then the door of the suite creaked open, swept across the floor, thudded, and latched.
Robbie was alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
That night, a storm rolled over the California coast. Keira lay awake listening to the bitter growls of thunder. She’d finally had the nerve to say what she’d buried within for all this time. So why didn’t she feel better?
Before breakfast, she headed to the coastline. Though sunrise was slated for a half hour before, the receding storm clouds hit the snooze button on behalf of the beach. She caught a time-lapse video of the moment the sun broke through, spreading its brilliance over the sea.
Anabelle would get her beach day after all.
Her phone buzzed. She imagined—scratch that. She hoped it was Robbie, calling to give the explanation he’d withheld last night.
Instead, Dora’s name scrolled on the screen. “Kat, I know it’s early out there on the West Coast, but I couldn’t wait. You did it!”
“Did what?”
“You landed a guest-hosting gig on Traveling Light!”
The ground seemed to swell beneath her and roll like one of the waves, making Keira feel heady. She closed her eyes and waited for it to crest and crash. When it did, she dug her toes into the sand to be sure of reality. “Dora, this is . . .”
“Amazing? Unbelievable? Fabulous? Everything you’ve been working toward?”
“Yes. It’s all those things.” She ran a hand down the side of her cheek. “Oh wow. Wow, wow, wow. When?”
“They’re about two months into filming season sixteen. Constance said Margot’s been finicky. They need someone ready to go the next time she doesn’t show up for work. They’ll send the contract over today. They’d like to have you join up with them on July seventh. I’ll work on clearing the rest of your summer schedule.”
“Are you sure the places won’t be upset about the cancellations? Some of these locations really need the publicity.”
“No worries. I’ve got someone else to take over your gigs. This girl’s only nineteen, but she’s already built a good-sized following. She’s from Kentucky. And you thought you were wide-eyed at the start.”
“I know you’ll take care of her like you took care of me.” Pressure mounted behind Keira’s eyes as she spoke. Where would she be without Dora’s advice and connections? Not to mention her protection. She’d kept her from making foolish decisions early on. Yes, Dora was a protector. Like Robbie. Now she’d be forging ahead without either one. Was she ready for that?
“But one question they had. How attached to the Kat Wanderfull moniker are you? They think ‘Wanderfull’ is a bit cheesy. How about Kat Knudsen?”
“Uh . . . I . . .”
“Just think about it. They’ll want to Skype with you to discuss logistics and contract terms. I won’t be on the call, but if you have any questions, you know how to reach me.”
“Thank you, Dora, for all you’ve done for me.”
“This was all you, girl. Your hard work and dedication made this happen. I’m so proud of you.”
After ending the call, Keira took a selfie. She hadn’t bothered to put on her normal makeup since this morning’s shoot wouldn’t show her face. Still, she wanted to capture the moment her dream came true. For her and her alone. This was proof. Happiness was something you could chase and catch.
She let out a squeal and stretched her arms overhead, then fell back on the sand. Thank you, Jesus.
* * *
* * *
Keira had barely met his eye since the night before. She didn’t seem angry with him. Just distracted. And about as cold as the Pacific Ocean sprawled out beyond the cliffs of Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve. They’d hiked all over the park, finally landing on Yucca Point for the last shot of the night. The only warmth she’d shown at all was just now when she apologized for not joining them at the beach earlier.
“Anabelle understands. Although you did miss some serious sandcastle building. I even gutted a dungeon for Prince Devin to live in.” Robbie’s joke didn’t land with Keira, though. Over the last few hours they’d spent together, she’d made it evident that he was her assistant and nothing more. The only clearer sign would be if a pod of dolphins spelled out In Your Dreams across the blue water below. The mental image threatened to pull the corners of Robbie’s lips into a smile despite the disappointment turning his stomach.
At least she hadn’t reached out to MRCustom last night. Even in the days leading up to that disaster, her messages had been short, infrequent, and friendly. Just friendly. Maybe hope wasn’t lost . . . yet. “Are you ever going to tell me what you were doing all day?”
“I had a couple of Skype meetings. And some paperwork—” She paused her movements, then scrunched her eyes closed. “I guess I’ll have to tell you sometime. I submitted my resignation to John. I won’t return to teaching this fall because, well, I landed Traveling Light. I signed the contract today. I start July seventh.”
A glory not his own washed over him. Within four seconds his arms bound her waist. He lifted her in the air and twirled her in a circle.
Her silence, though, cued the return of reality. Twenty-four hours ago, this would have been an acceptable, even modest way to congratulate her. Now it was not.
Her hands pressed against his chest, and he set her feet back on the dirt. “I’m really proud of you, Kat. I knew you could do it. How are we going to celebrate?” Robbie checked on Anabelle.
She was a huddled glob of sunscreen, sand, and cracker crumbs as she snoozed on the blanket a couple yards away.
“Anabelle may appear partied out, but it’s nothing a little sugar won’t fix,” Robbie said.
Keira’s dead-eyed expression didn’t match the rosy flush of her cheeks that had appeared after he’d hugged her. She smoothed out her shirt. “These pictures are enough. It’s almost time for sundown. Let’s do this.” She grabbed a folded hunk of fabric from her bag, despite already looking perfect in her shorts and knitted tank top. After eating somewhat normally these past two weeks, she looked healthy. With the sun setting, her skin glowed amber. Beauty had nothing on her.
He blew out a breath and shook out his hands. Gawking at her would only get him in more trouble. He’d messed up enough as is. This picture, he knew, was a big deal to her. A sketch of it was not taped but glued to the inside cover of her atlas. Without having to ask, he understood it was why she’d come to California in the first place. Torrey Pines was the perfect place to do it, too.
Keira didn’t look back. She stepped to the edge of one of the many cliffs at the park.
In the distance, the ocean spread from right to left, north to south. Occasionally, a distant swell reached up to the falling sun, inviting it to take a dip.
From this angle, Robbie couldn’t tell how close she stood to the drop-off. His heart drummed vio
lently against his sternum. The breeze was light, but what if a rogue wind knocked her off-balance? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine she’d take the suggestion to move back well. God, protect her when I can’t. The prayer would have to suffice.
She faced the ocean, releasing the folds of the fabric. A veil of what looked like silk boasted blocks of color set against black outlines. Grabbing two corners, she spread the scarf across her shoulders. The fabric draped down to her calves. Backlit by the sun, sections of it appeared sheer. The sunlight took on different hues of the scarf as it shone through each colored section. Keira’s dark body formed the center line. The breeze ruffled the scarf, and it roiled like a flag on a pole.
For a moment, Robbie’s fingers, like the rest of him, froze. It took effort to click the button on the DSLR camera. Once he was able, he snapped many pictures, praying that one would catch the fabric perfectly. His eyes blurred. He’d have to trust that the lens could capture what his eyes no longer could.
“Did you get it? Please say you did,” she said over her shoulder.
“Think so.” Fortunately, his sleeve served as a good tissue to wipe his eyes. Stinking Matthews tears. When he’d finally regained his sight, he found her staring at him. She’d wrapped the shawl thing around herself. For warmth or comfort, he wasn’t sure.
“Can I see?”
He unhooked the camera from the tripod stand and carried it to her. He’d been right. She was too close to the edge. Didn’t whole houses fall off cliffs in California? He didn’t want to take the chance. By placing a hand on her hip, he tried to inch her back to safety. Just a bit.
She resisted. In fact, by pushing back against his palm, she was actually torquing her body weight toward the cliff.
“You’re making me nervous, kid.”
“I’m fine.”
“Please? Just a step or two?”
Although her eyes remained cool as steel, she relaxed her body, then shimmied her feet a respectable trout-length closer to solid ground. It would have to do.
Hesitantly, he removed his hand from the waistband of her jean shorts.
Keira uncocooned a hand to block the glare on the small camera screen.
They both leaned in close to see as Robbie clicked back over the series of pictures. Like a flip-book, the scarf came to life, blowing in the breeze with stilted motion.
Her lips parted. “They’re beautiful. It’s exactly what I wanted it to look like . . . like a butterfly.” Her head began to turn toward his but stopped. Any more and her forehead would graze his chin. “Thank you. We can go now.” Her voice sounded almost robotic.
“And miss this sunset?” He nodded his chin to the horizon.
As timidly as Anabelle had earlier, the sun dipped its toe in the ocean. Of course, it didn’t squeal like she had. It certainly didn’t sizzle the way he’d once seen in a cartoon. Rather, its light spread across the water, concentrating in a cone-like shape, narrower where the sun appeared to touch the horizon and widening as it spread toward them—too pretty not to capture.
After he clicked one more picture, he turned off the camera and placed it carefully on a patch of grass near their feet. A brief glance proved Anabelle was still safely asleep ten yards away.
Tell her everything.
Robbie wanted to blast the voice. Telling her the truth would gut her, leaving her heart and maybe even her soul to spill down over the cliffside. Instead, he focused on Keira. The blue in her eyes had been overwhelmed by coppery reds and splashed with glints of gold.
July seventh, she’d said. And then half of his heart would be lost forever.
Tell her, the voice repeated.
“Okay,” Robbie said.
“Okay, what?”
“You want to know why I wouldn’t marry you? This is why.”
Her brows knit together, but she didn’t look at him. Instead she stared even harder at the sun, and Robbie was sure she’d go blind if he didn’t get this out quickly.
“Growing up, I saw you live beneath your father’s thumb. I saw how he sheltered you to the point of suffocation. How he hurt you and kept you trapped. No matter what I tried—and you know I tried—I was helpless to stop it.
“But then when we went away to college, you had the chance to be free. For the first time in your life you could live how you wanted. And it was so fun, seeing you start to discover yourself. You got that job working at the ice cream shop. I’ll never forget the look on your face when you got your first paycheck, and there was no one to take it away from you.”
Keira chewed her lip. But she was listening—not fleeing—so he continued.
“I loved seeing you come alive. I knew, from the moment you kissed me in the library, that I never wanted to spend a day without you by my side. Yet as college went on, these little warning flags appeared. The first time you highlighted your hair, you kept asking me if you looked okay and if I liked it. Which I did, of course, but I’d have liked you with skunk hair. You kept trying to cook for me and clean up my apartment for me. I’d ask you what movie you wanted to go see, and you’d choose some car-racing movie because you knew I’d enjoy it.”
Robbie saw the way her shoulders rose higher and fell deeper with each of her breaths. “At first, I thought you were selfless and thoughtful. Then I realized how scared you were. Scared that one day I’d leave you . . . by yourself. I know I didn’t help. I liked playing the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress. I wanted to wrap myself around you like this scarf, and I would have if that’s what God wanted me to do.”
Here came the hard part.
“Kat, I begged God to let me marry you. It may be silly, waiting for God’s blessing. Maybe I needed that because I couldn’t ask your earthly father for your hand. But each time, God told me no. If I was honest with myself, I knew why.
“I told God for the longest time that I wouldn’t propose to you, but selfishly, I refused to let you go. I needed you too much—and not because of the tutoring or helping with reading and stuff. I needed you to bring color to my world and breath to my lungs. You started shutting down. I was so scared that I’d lose you. My prayers were answered, but not in the way I wanted. At graduation, he told me that it was time to let you go. You know, in that voice you feel right in the middle of your rib cage that’s as loud as a freight train to you but silent to everyone else? It was that one. I told him I loved you more than my own life. He said he loved you more. It’s the only time in my life I’ve cursed at God. Then I asked my mom for my great-grandmother Mary’s diamond ring, and she, of course, said yes. It’s platinum with this art deco design from the thirties. You would’ve loved it.”
“Sounds beautiful.” Her eyes had softened by the time she looked his direction.
A lightbulb clicked. “Kat, where’s your atlas?”
“In my satchel. Why?”
Anabelle was using Keira’s satchel as a pillow. Inwardly, he groaned. He left Keira’s side. With the care of a surgeon, he lifted Anabelle’s head, removed the atlas from the satchel, and replaced the mop of curls. Making his way back to the cliff’s edge, he flipped open to Alaska’s page. He pointed to a blue star on Mt. McKinley, its name since changed to Denali.
“I drew this star. You remember me saying that I had a surprise trip planned for us? We were going to fly into Fairbanks and drive to Denali National Park. I knew you’d always wanted to see Alaska.” Robbie sighed. “Kat, I was going to propose.”
“You were?”
Robbie nodded. “But we had that fight after Trina’s wedding. I went to Ryann for advice. Yes, I did say that I was not supposed to marry you. If you had stuck around, you would have heard me explain that I’d decided to throw up a fist at God and marry you anyway. Call me stubborn, but I was sure that if there was ever a time to be disobedient to his will, this was it.”
“I was happy being your girlfriend. I knew I’d be happy as you
r wife. Why wouldn’t God want me to be happy?”
“Because this is what God wanted for you.”
“That I would be a digital nomad?”
“One day, you’ll have to explain to me what that is. But yes and no. If I’d married you back then, it would have been like putting a butterfly in a cage before it ever had the chance to fly. And Keira, look at you. You were meant to fly.”
She angled herself to him. She was so close that the loose wisps of her hair, raised by the breeze, tickled his cheek.
“It was selfish and wrong, but I would’ve rather kept you in a gilded cage than risk your flying away from me.”
She stepped forward.
Her nearness weakened him. He was at her mercy. With a pinch, he would crumble. With a nudge, he’d be shark bait at the bottom of the cliff.
Instead, she placed a hand on his neck. Her thumb grazed his jaw, and the silk she held caught on his stubble. “Marrying you could never have been a cage. After all, without you, I never would have noticed I even had wings. I am who I am because you loved me once.”
“Once?”
The sun was gone. When it sank below the horizon, it must have sucked the air from between them, as her chest now grazed his ribs. She was still so petite, but no longer fragile. Which was a good thing, because as his hand slid around her waist, his self-control was swan-diving over the edge.
“I’m sorry for running away that day.” She searched his eyes. “I don’t want to run anymore. I won’t. From now on, any problems we have, I’ll deal with them head-on. I promise.”
He tightened his embrace, pulling her flush against him and lifting her onto her toes. Her breath escaped with a small squeak. “I’ve been waiting five long years to kiss you again, and I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Me neither.”
She touched her lips to his. It was sweet and soft. Gentle as a raindrop that fell on his skin and lingered a moment. A sharp contrast to the raging river racing through his veins. A river that threatened to spill over the banks.
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