After Landon left, Sam couldn’t sleep. Keeping her foot elevated was a necessity, but sleeping on her back was a drag. From her spot on the couch, she could see straight into Emmett’s room. She could almost see his brawny frame coming through the door, the Winston clamped between his lips.
Sam threw off the quilt and gathered her crutches, pulling herself upright. The living room lamp turned on with a click, and she navigated the maze of furniture. When she made it to the doorway, she saw the letter from her mom lying on the bed. She stopped, balancing on one foot and the crutches.
She should have been told about the letter long ago. Yet again Emmett’s cruel hand reached from the grave. She remembered all the nights she lay in bed, listening to the water rushing the shoreline, wondering if the tide would bring her mom back to her the way it had carried her away. She waited and hoped and begged God to bring her home the same way she’d begged for her dad after he died.
And all that time, her mom’s final letter lay in the next room. Maybe it would have closed the door on Sam’s dream of her return. A closed door was better than a false one. She had learned that lesson well.
Sam wondered if Landon thought she was a coward for not reading it. The thought chafed. Maybe you are a coward, Sam. It’s onlyan old letter, words on paper. How can it hurt you now?
She was many things, but a coward was not one of them. She crossed the space in one clumsy movement and snatched the letter from the quilt. Tucking it under her arm, she pulled the door shut and returned to the couch.
Her foot ached from all the motion, so she propped it on the wooden coffee table and leaned back. The envelope was well worn, like it had been opened and read a hundred times. She couldn’t imagine Emmett lingering over it like a lovesick fool.
Before she could stop herself, she pulled up the flap and slid out the sheet of notebook paper. Her mom’s neat script slanted across the page. Sam’s eyes devoured the words.
Emmett,
I’m sorry I left you the way I did. I knew if I told you how I felt you would sweet-talk me into staying, and I’m not strong enough to say no to you. There is a restlessness in me—it has always been there inside me. I was suffocating there on the island where so many bad memories lay waiting for me.
When we married I thought I would be able to pick up and move on after John died. I have tried my best, but I now know that marrying you wasn’t fair to either of us. I signed the house over to you. It’s all I have to give you. I will file for divorce as soon as I have the money.
I’m sorry.
Ellen
Sam scanned the words again. She looked for her name or some mention of her but didn’t find it. The hollow place inside of her swelled and swallowed her whole. Her mom never mentioned her. Not once.
Emmett hadn’t kept her mom’s last words from her. None existed.
The letter was only about her mom. Her thoughts. Her feelings. Her life. Well, what about me, Mom? What about the child youabandoned so you could follow your own selfish dreams? What aboutthe kid who sat at the end of the pier, watching for your boat for weeksafter you left? What about the girl who cried alone in the darkness ofher closet?
Sam’s hands shook with anger. She folded the letter and ripped it in half, then ripped it again and again for good measure, until all that was left was bits of paper. Some landed on her lap; other pieces fell to the floor between the sofa and table.
Many nights she’d lain in bed wondering if her mom was out there somewhere aching for the daughter she left. Sam imagined her guilt and regret. She imagined her showing up on her doorstep someday, full of apologies.
Now the truth smacked Sam in the face. In one quick gesture, she swept the pieces of paper off her lap. She felt rejected all over again. She’d thought her mom didn’t have the power to hurt her anymore. That she’d already done all the damage one mom could do.
She was wrong.
Sam awoke to a knock on the door. Her eyes were heavy, and the sun shining through the curtains stung them. She lifted her foot down and realized the Advil had worn off sometime after she fell asleep.
“Caden,” she called. “The door.”
“Take your time,” Landon called from the porch. “It’s just me.”
By the time Caden padded through the living room, she’d rubbed the sleep from her eyes and ran her hand through her tangled hair. A yawn threatened, but she stifled it.
Caden unlocked and swung open the door.
“Breakfast is served,” said Landon. He balanced a white box on his palm like a server with a tray.
“Donuts!” Caden clapped her hands together, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet.
“Good morning, ladies.” He set the box on the coffee table.
Landon’s presence warmed Sam from the inside out. “’Morning.” She knew she was a mess. She hadn’t fallen asleep until way after midnight.
“Caden, can you get the paper plates and napkins?” Landon asked.
“Sure.” She watched her daughter run to do his bidding, wishing Caden were so compliant for her.
Her ankle hurting, she set her foot on the table and reached for the bottle of Advil.
After dining on donuts, Sam showered as best she could on one leg while Caden and Landon piled the living room furniture into the kitchen. By the time she was dressed, Landon was sweeping the wood floor in preparation for the polyurethane finish, and she remembered her mom’s letter. Sam looked at the center of the living room, now bare. The bits of paper were gone, and she wondered what Landon had thought when he saw them. It doesn’t reallymatter, does it? I have a right to my anger.
Determined not to let her mom ruin the day, Sam decided to put the letter behind her. With fresh perspective, she surveyed the room. Now that the rugs and furniture were gone, she could see stains. Her heart sank.
“Don’t worry,” Landon said. “I refinished the floors when I moved into my mom and dad’s, so I know how to get those out. They look like surface stains. Are you sure you don’t want me to refinish the floor? If I run out of time, I could always finish it after you leave.”
“While you’re working extra hours to make up for this so-called vacation? I don’t think so.”
Landon retrieved his dad’s old drum sander and insisted she sit in the sun while he worked. “It’s going to get hot and dusty in here,” he explained. “Anyway, you could use some fresh air.”
He brought her a fresh bandage and the bag of frozen peas, and she rewrapped her ankle and set the bag on it. The Advil had kicked in, and for the first time since the injury, her ankle didn’t hurt.
Since Caden couldn’t help with the floor, Sam let her invite Amber over. They drew pictures on the pier boards with sidewalk chalk until the sun grew hot, then they waded into the cool water, squatting until their slender shoulders skimmed the surface. Their laughter floated on the breeze, mingling with the leaves that danced overhead, shading her from the hot sun.
After dinner, Melanie called. “I was getting ready to come get Amber and wondered if Caden would like to spend the night again.”
The girls responded with loud squeals, especially when Melanie promised to take them to the beach the next day.
By the time they left, twilight had settled over the yard, bringing out the night sounds she remembered so well. Sam leaned back on the porch chair, listening to the orchestra through the screen, her hand resting on Max’s head.
“The dust has settled if you want to go back inside.” The door squeaked as Landon stepped through it. He handed her a glass of soda, and the ice tinkled in the glass as she took it.
“Nah. It smells better out here.” The smell of paint fumes had faded, but all the sanding left a sawdust smell.
Max walked to the screen door and pushed, letting himself out.
Landon sank into the chair beside her. “It’s all cleaned up and ready for a coat of varnish. Sorry the stains took so long. I’d hoped to start varnishing this afternoon.”
“You hardly owe me an apology. Anyway, I think I’ll be able to help tomorrow, so we’ll get back on track.”
Sam could feel his gaze on her. “You don’t want to rush it.”
“It hardly even hurts now. And I can put my weight on it.”
He stared at her. “Sam.”
She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I’ll take breaks.” She pinned him with a look until she was sure he understood that she wasn’t backing down.
“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I prefer to call it determined.”
“Most stubborn people do. And don’t forget, I taught you to drive.”
Sam humphed. “What’s that got to do with anything?” She lifted the soda to her lips and let the fizzy liquid glide down her throat.
“Do the words stick shift and ’Sconset ring a bell?”
She hadn’t thought about that in years. A smile threatened. Emmett wouldn’t let her use his car, so Mrs. Reed let Landon teach Sam to drive in her old beat-up Citation. It had taken them two hours to reach ’Sconset, normally a fifteen-minute drive.
“So it took me a while to get there.” She cocked her head like Max. “With a little determination, I managed.”
“And then insisted on driving back.”
“So what?”
“In the dark.”
“Are you afraid of boogeymen?”
“Three hours and forty-five minutes to ’Sconset and back. My knuckles were white for a week.”
“But I learned to drive a stick shift.”
“Stubborn.”
“Determined.”
Sam relaxed into her chair, listening to the oscillating buzz of insects and the ever-present whoosh of waves lapping the shoreline. Darkness had swallowed up the heat of the day, and the breeze that slipped through the screen refreshed her.
“Listen to that,” Landon said. “It’s so peaceful.”
She closed her eyes and let her ears do all the work. To her, the sound was comforting. It had lulled her to sleep many a night when everything else was so frightening. “You love it here, don’t you?”
A loon called out from somewhere near the shoreline.
“I really do,” he said.
She remembered loving this place before her dad died. But then things happened that tainted the island, coloring it a gloomy shade of gray. She had to admit the shadows had lifted a bit recently.
“The winters stink,” she said. Especially along the shoreline, where cold winds whipped across the ocean. It was almost impossible to keep a house warm. Not to mention expensive.
“True. But the summers are worth it.” The cushion on his chair crinkled as he shifted. “Besides, I have good memories here.”
The irony struck her that although they had grown up two doors apart during the same time period, their childhoods were polar opposites. She laughed wryly.
“Come on, they weren’t all bad.” She could tell he’d turned toward her by the sound of his voice. “Remember the time capsule we buried? It took you five weeks to decide what should be in it. If it had been up to me, I would have taken five minutes.”
Sam opened her eyes and turned toward him. She hadn’t realized the chairs were so close together. “I remember.” They’d dug it up the summer they graduated and laughed at the items she’d selected: An unopened pack of Hubba Bubba bubble gum, two ticket stubs to Home Alone, a cassette tape of The Joshua Tree by U2, and a beaded bracelet Landon had made for her. She wondered what they’d done with those things.
The light from the living room window lit Landon’s face, and a shadow settled into the cleft of his chin. “And the time you found that dead bird and insisted we have a memorial service.”
That was before her dad died, before all the good had been sucked from her life. She found the starling under a bush in Miss Biddle’s yard. Her tender heart had broken. “That’s not a good memory.”
His lips twitched. “You sang Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Sparrow’ and buried the thing in a Pop-Tarts box.”
Sam remembered Landon digging the shallow hole in his mom’s flower garden and waiting patiently for her to finish. “Okay, I see the humor.”
“And then there was the time—”
“Okay, okay, I get your point. There were good memories too.” It was just that the bad outweighed them by a sandy beach mile. She studied Landon’s face. He was at the center of every good memory since her dad’s passing. His presence brought her joy and peace. Maybe that’s why her life had been so empty since she left the island. Maybe Landon was the healing water that would quench her loneliness. She let the thought wash over her the way Landon’s gaze washed over her now. In the depth of his eyes was a fathomless pool of emotion. In the strength of his arms was stability. In the heart of his soul was a steadiness she longed for.
His eyes flickered down to her lips. “Sam,” he whispered.
The sound of her name on his lips ignited a yearning in her. A yearning for comfort. For joy. For love. A need to surrender to this aching desire.
Caden wasn’t here.
The bow in his lip begged to be touched. She leaned toward him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. His fingers cupped her chin as they closed the gap. His breath was the softest whisper on her skin. As her eyes fluttered closed, she felt the warmth of his lips. Her palm closed around the roughness of his jawline.
He deepened the kiss, and she arched closer, cursing the arm of the chair that dug into her ribs, separating them. It was the way a kiss should be, stopping time, stealing breath.
He drew back, and a whimper left her throat. But he was on his knees in front of her before she could say a word. He grasped her waist and pulled her into him. He framed her face with his gentle hands and kissed her again. Her hands slid around his back.
His mouth was patient on hers. “Sam,” he whispered against her lips.
Sam clutched at his shoulders, wanting to be closer, wanting to climb inside him. She wasn’t sure even then she would be close enough.
His fingers worked into her hair, sending shivers down her spine. “Sam.” He paused, his lips a breath away. “I love you so much.”
His lips were on hers again, and she let his words sink in and fill the hole inside her. I love you too, Landon. For the first time she knew with certainty it was true. She not only loved him now; she had loved him long before she ever left. It was why she’d hated him for leaving. Why she’d told herself she didn’t care if he left. Why she’d felt the need to prove it by sleeping with his brother. It was apparent in the way she responded to him, in the way she compared every man to him, in the way she’d carried him with her for the past eleven years. She wondered that she hadn’t seen it until now.
Sam clung to him, feeling his love in the gentle passion of his kiss. She hadn’t said the words to him. She’d never said them to any man. They worked their way up, ready to roll off her tongue, but her throat closed up, tightening around her voice like a boa constrictor around its prey.
Why couldn’t she say it?
Because you’d be a fool to tell him, Sam.
The thought was an unwelcome intruder. She wanted to push the door closed on it, but it came from deep inside.
No. He loves me.
So did your dad. And he left you.
No! He died. He didn’t leave me.
Same difference, isn’t it?
It wasn’t the same. He hadn’t wanted to leave her. Sam’s lips moved against Landon’s, and she struggled to draw in air.
And what about your mom? She said she loved you too.
She loved me in her own way.
She didn’t even mention you in her letter. You can’t trust love, Sam.Haven’t you learned that yet? You’re a fool.
Her emotions tugged her back and forth in a familiar battle she wanted to win this time. She could trust Landon. She could. She leaned into him and grasped his shirt, knotting it up in her fist.
He already left you once.
It was only for college. He was going to come back. He did comeback. He loved me. He still loves me. This is right, I know it is.
If it’s so right, why are you afraid?
The voice held enough truth to shake her. Tully didn’t make her feel afraid. Neither did the other men she went out with. They made her feel empowered, strong, capable. With Landon she felt weak and afraid. Helpless.
And protected.
Who will protect you when he leaves?
Landon withdrew his lips from hers, searching her face. “What’s wrong?”
Her dad had made her feel protected too. Even her mom, to a degree. She realized it the moment her mom left her at Emmett’s mercy. Sam had depended on them, and their abandonment pulled the proverbial rug from under her. The shock never left her. It was burned into every cell of her body. Needing someone was a bad thing. Why had she forgotten?
Sam placed her hands on Landon’s shoulders and pushed, giving herself space to breathe. Her heart threatened to break through her ribs. She felt like she was in the dark closet, trapped and afraid.
“Sam?” His eyes burned into hers, a cocktail of emotion. Confusion, hurt, fear.
She looked away, gripping the chair’s arms with trembling fingers. Her breath came in quick gasps. She pressed her back to the chair.
Stupid! You’re so weak. Why do you keep following your treacherousheart?
“Sam, talk to me.” He placed his hands over hers.
She wondered how she could hurt him. Just say it. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t.” I can’t lose my heart to you. I can’t take the chance.
He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Just say it. Whatever it is.”
She gripped the wooden arm, feeling the rough edges dig into her palm. “I mean I can’t do this.” Her eyes begged for mercy. “I just can’t.”
He looked into her. “What are you so afraid of?” It was like he could see into her soul. He could. And yet he still loved her.
You don’t deserve it. No one knew it better than she. Landon would know it too, if he knew what she’d done.
Then tell him.
No. She couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing she’d betrayed him with his own brother. Or that she’d caused Bailey’s death.
Panic welled inside her like an expanding bubble. She feared it would burst any moment. “I need to go in now.” She jerked her hands from under his, and, startled, he leaned back against his heels. It was all the room she needed to stand and squeeze past him.
Sam didn’t stop to grab her crutches from the wall. Instead, she limped toward the door.
“Wait, Sam.”
She pulled open the door, wanting to slip inside and turn the lock. She longed to fall into bed and pull the quilt over her head. She wanted to go to sleep and find oblivion. She wanted to seal up the leaks in her heart that had allowed Landon to gain entrance.
Her sore ankle slowed her. Landon reached her as she grasped the doorknob. He laid his palm flat against the door, preventing it from opening.
She jerked the knob, but the door didn’t budge. Her desperation mounted. “Let go!” He placed his other hand against the door, over her shoulder.
“Not this time.”
She could feel the heat of his body against her back. Trapped again. She whipped around. “Just leave me alone.” She shoved at his chest futilely.
“Why do you push me away?” His tone was gruff.
Because loving you is too scary. Why can’t you understand that? She planted her palms on his chest and pushed. He was like a fortress, solid and immovable.
“Talk to me.”
“No!” Even if she would have before, she was too angry now. Why did he force himself on her this way? She was tired of being at the mercy of other people. Her temples pounded.
She ducked under his arm, but he caught her shoulders.
“Let me go.”
“Never,” he said firmly.
She stopped fighting and leaned into the door, looking at him, her chest rising with each labored breath.
There was a determination in his eyes she’d never seen before. She always talked him into doing things her way, from riding on his handlebars to playing Scrabble. But the look on his face told her he wasn’t giving in this time.
Well, that’s too bad, because I’m not either. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
“Are you worried about the future? About your life being in Boston and mine here?”
She refused to answer.
“We can work it out, Sam. It’s only logistics.”
Location was the least of her worries. She felt like a cornered rat. The arms that held her in place were like shackles. She was twelve years old and locked in a dark closet, her lungs tight and constricted.
“My ankle hurts,” she lied.
“Let’s go inside and sit down.”
Sam dragged her fingers through the hair at her temples and closed her aching eyes. Go away. Please. Go away.
“I’m not leaving.”
Could he read her stinking mind now? She opened her eyes and narrowed them. Jerk.
Read that.
“Are you ready to sit and talk, or do you want to stand here all night?”
Mentally, she called him every name she could think of. What right did he have to interrogate her? Wasn’t she entitled to her own private feelings? Just because he was stronger than her didn’t give him the right to bully her.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Stop pushing me away.” His face softened.
Another gaping hole through which he would enter.
He tucked her hair behind her ear, and she stiffened at his touch.
“I just want to love you,” he whispered.
Look away. Close your heart. Don’t listen. A lump formed in her throat, where her own declaration had stuck earlier. How close she’d come to crossing that line! Even without having said it, she feared he knew.
“I’ve loved you for so long.” His low voice rumbled through the still air. “Remember when I kissed you that night on the pier? You were thinking of Scott, but you stole my heart then. I loved you long before that last summer when I finally told you.”
Sam fought the effects of his soothing voice by closing her eyes, shutting him out.
“And you know what, Sam? I think you loved me then too.”
“No,” she grated.
He touched a strand of hair, following it down to the ends. “You hide your heart from everyone else, but I can see inside you.”
“You don’t know anything.” If he did, he wouldn’t be standing here now.
He wouldn’t be standing here now. The thought smacked her like a palm across her cheek. Maybe he needed to know the truth. Maybe then he would see who she was. That she was ugly inside, not worthy of his love.
“I love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”
He’ll never forgive you.
Maybe that’s what it’s going to take to make him leave you alone.
Still, the notion of telling him made the words freeze on her tongue.
You said you wanted him to leave you alone. Did you mean it?
But how would he feel when he knew Caden was his brother’s child? What would he think of her if he knew she’d caused Bailey’s death and hid it from his family?
He’ll hate you, that’s what.
Isn’t that better than this? Better than him loving you? Better thanthis fear?
Landon’s finger grazed her lips, tracing the edges, and her knees trembled.
“Let me love you.”
She felt the warmth of his breath, then the softness of his lips. A touch as gentle as a butterfly’s wings that shook her to the core of her being.
She drove her palms into his shoulder and pushed him away. He called her stubborn, but Sam knew he wouldn’t let her go this time. Not unless she made him.
“I never told you who Caden’s father is.” The words were a metal brush grating across brick. The panic that had built in her settled in a cloud of numbness that anesthetized her soul.
“What?” His arms were at his sides, now. His lips still swollen from hers.
Sam closed the door of her heart up tight, locking it securely. “The night of your party, I left with Bailey. We went out in your dad’s boat.” Her mind glazed over, the details of the night whirling through her head in vivid Technicolor. The earthy smell of rain in the air. The sound of laughter and music leaking through the yacht club’s open patio doors. The sharp, tangy wind rolling off the ocean and tangling her hair.
“Bailey brought alcohol from the party. He knew I was upset, even if you didn’t. He had a crush on me.”
“I know.”
The dread in Landon’s voice wasn’t enough to tear her from the nightmare. “We drank a lot. And talked. And drank some more.” Bailey grew more somber with each bottle. She grew more boisterous. She was determined to prove to herself that Landon’s leaving didn’t bother her, that she wasn’t in love with him. When Bailey kissed her, she eagerly kissed him back. Within moments, they were lying on the deck of the boat.
“One thing led to another.” Sam’s hollow voice filled the space between them.
She was vaguely aware of Landon stiffening, but she continued. The details were blurry at this point. She didn’t remember getting dressed or when the rain started.
The next thing she remembered was reaching the dock at the marina.
Bailey shut off the motor and squeezed her hand. “Are you goingback to the party?” he asked. She didn’t want to see Landon again. Anyway, she was too drunk to face anyone, and suddenly she wasn’t feeling so hot.
“No, I’m going home.” She had come with Landon’s family, but she decided to take a taxi back.
Landon’s voice drew her back to the present. “You and Bailey?” She heard the shock and hurt in the softly spoken words, but the numbness deadened her to its effects. Even the shame the memory always conjured was absent.
Instead, the past curled its fingers around her arm and drew her back to that night.
Bailey had lain back in the captain’s chair, letting the drizzle slap him in the face. His suit was getting soaked, but he was too drunk to care. “I’d better wait here awhile, sleep this off,” he said. She knew his parents would have a fit if they saw him like that.
“Sure,” she said.
“Tie me off, okay?” He closed his eyes.
Sam grabbed her purse and pulled her flapping jacket tight around her body. Her long legs spanned the gap between the boat and the dock, but she wobbled on the boards, catching her balance. Just then, her stomach heaved. She ran to the other side of the pier and let her stomach empty into the water.
The wind must have covered the sound of her retching, because when she finished, she looked back at the boat. Bailey’s mouth hung open in sleep. Her legs were shaky as they carried her up the boardwalk toward town, where she could hail a cab. It wasn’t until much later that she realized she’d never tied off the boat.