Jonathan had known the past distorted Alanna’s vision, but he hadn’t expected her to order him out. The ease of their earlier conversation had surprised him. Now he’d collided with her erected barriers.
She stopped long enough to shove plates and containers filled with remnants of their meal back in the basket. Moisture filled her eyes and threatened to overflow. The oh-so-tough Alanna Stone looked ready to break.
It couldn’t be simply what happened to Trevor. There had to be something more adding to the stress. Jaclyn? He wished he could have stuck around for their conversation. He’d explore that later, because now it was abundantly clear she wanted him out. Gone. Disappearing.
He touched her hand, felt it tremble under his. “I’ll get this. You do whatever else you need to.” As soon as she nodded, he stifled a yawn. He couldn’t afford fatigue, not when he had several hours of work waiting when he got home.
In less time than he expected, he followed Alanna out the door and waited as she locked it. “I’ll bike home with you.”
“I have a stop.” Her words were tight, almost strangled.
The island might be safe, but there was no way he was going to leave her to make her way on the roads by herself. It would be dark soon, and in the wooded areas it would already feel like night had fallen. Besides, the tourists had arrived, and with them came the typical round of drunk and disorderlies. In her frame of mind, she might forget how the island could be at night.
“I don’t mind waiting.” He’d make supercharged coffee in the morning.
She glanced at him a moment then threw her purse strap across her shoulder. “Whatever you like. You always did what you wanted anyway.”
The way she said the words had a bite that made him almost change his mind. Yet his mother had drilled into him the need to be a gentleman when it came to ladies. Always. Regardless of how they treat you. He’d extend grace for now. He pulled back at that thought. Grace shouldn’t be extended in dribs and drabs.
“Really, Jonathan. Go home. I’m fine.” As if to punctuate the comment, Alanna threw a leg over the bike and pedaled into traffic.
The clop-clop of dray horses’ hooves against the asphalt didn’t distract him. He shoved the handles of the picnic basket over the handlebars and pumped to follow Alanna. If she didn’t want him, fine. He’d stay behind, still her silent guardian.
Raucous music filtered out the open doors of the Man O’ War. A young man stumbled out and right into Alanna’s path. She swerved the bike, narrowly missing a woman on foot in her efforts to avoid the drunk. She pulled to the side in front of I’m Not Sharing Fudge Shop.
Jonathan eased to a stop next to her. “Want some dessert?”
Her hair flipped across her face as she turned toward him. “Go away, Jonathan.”
“Not happening. Last time you disappeared for eleven years.”
“I need to ask Mr. Hoffmeister a question.”
“That old guy? He’s nice enough. . . .” But why ditch him for Mr. H.?
“Really, Jonathan, go ahead. You’ve got better things to do than watch my bike. Where’s it going?”
Her insistence made him want to demand he tag along. She was up to something, and he wanted to know what. Guess he was ultra- nosy at the moment.
“Come on, Lanna. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“No.” She pushed at his handlebars, and he wobbled as the basket slid to the side. “I’ll see you later.”
How much rejection should he endure before he acquiesced? “If you’re sure. . .”
“I can find my way home. Good night, Jonathan.”
“All right then.” No matter what his mom had told him, you couldn’t be a gentleman if the woman refused.
Alanna watched Jonathan pedal down the street. He looked over his shoulder once, and she waved. She didn’t need him acting like a burr attached to her side. She turned to I’m Not Sharing Fudge Shop. Maybe Mr. Hoffmeister still worked evenings. He’d always insisted that was his favorite time to man the shop since he could observe everyone pass by.
Maybe he knew something about what happened to Grady. How could she have forgotten his cottage faced the area they’d chosen for the bonfire and festivities? Between that and whatever Ginger knew, she needed to talk to him.
An electronic ding announced her arrival. The old man hunched over a paperback as he sat on a stool behind the cash register. He marked his page and then glanced up. A grin split his face, revealing stained teeth. “Alanna! I wondered when you’d stop by. Need some fudge?”
“Yes, sir. I haven’t missed much but your fudge. Someday you’ll have to share your special ingredient.”
“No can do. If I did, nobody would need me anymore. Can’t have that.” He grabbed a piece of wax paper and a knife. “Now what would you like to sample?” He pointed at a couple of blocks. “How about the mint chocolate? Or the peanut butter? But if I know you after all these years, I’m thinking the peppermint tickles your taste buds.”
“Sounds great.” As soon as he handed her a thin slice, she broke off a corner and slipped it in her mouth. The sweetness melted against her tongue, and she moaned. “This is so good. I’d better take a pound and be grateful I bike and walk everywhere.”
“I knew you’d like it.” He sliced off a bigger chunk and wrapped it in a one-pound box. “What else can I do for you?”
He sidled back to the cash register and rang up her order while she considered how to proceed.
“I wanted to ask what you remember.”
“About that day?”
“Yes, sir.”
He slipped her money into the cash drawer then sank to the stool. “That was a long time ago, kid. You have to let go.”
“You must have talked to Jonathan.”
“Jonathan?”
“Covington. He told me the same thing.”
“Haven’t talked to him, but we’re of the same mind. What good comes of stirring up that hornet’s nest?”
Alanna clutched the box as if gripping a lifeline. “Because I want the world to know Trevor wasn’t involved.”
“Everybody there was.”
That stung. She’d been there. To this day she wondered if there was something she could have—should have—done to avert the tragedy.
“Look, you can carry this burden the rest of your life, let it color every day and everything you do. Or you can release it and trust those around here to move on with grace. You might try it yourself.” He glanced at his watch and stood. “Time for me to close up.”
“What’s this about you and Mr. Tomkin?”
He frowned. “Nothing for you to worry about. He just wants to build a monstrosity next to my house. Seems shocked I think he should follow all the building rules.”
“Being neighbors can be hard on a friendship.”
“It certainly can.” He glanced at his watch. “Suppose I should start working on closing duties.”
Alanna nodded. She’d be back, but he’d made it clear he didn’t want to talk—not now. His words about grace echoed in her mind as she left.
Grace wasn’t a new concept, not after all the sermons she’d heard on the topic. But applying it to this situation? That seemed impossible. Not when she had an island’s worth of people to forgive. Forgetting and moving on came easier, until her parents needed her to return.
The door clanged shut behind her, and she turned to watch him hit a light switch. She couldn’t imagine how many times he’d closed the shop in his lifetime. Through all kinds of events on the island, he stayed. Thought she should have done the same.
It wasn’t that easy. Never had been.
Her streak of justice ran too deep to ignore, especially when it involved family. Someday she wanted a family of her own, but not if what happened to Trevor could repeat. She needed to right this. Then she could pursue a family. Maybe she was stubborn, but now that she had returned, she needed to find the truth. See if there was any way to clear her brother.
She straddled her bike and looked up then startled. Talk about stubborn. There stood Jonathan Covington leaning against the wall of Doud’s. “What are you doing? I saw you leave.”
“Making sure you make it home.” A thread of challenge rang through his words. Just like when they were teens and he insisted she let him do something—usually something completely unnecessary.
“Go home, Jonathan.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do.” He lifted the Coke bottle he held. “Needed something to drink.”
She tucked her slab of fudge in the bike basket. “Sure you did. Come on, since I can’t shake you.”
He chuckled. “That’s right. I’m going to watch out for you.”
Her back stiffened, and she pushed down on the pedals. “I’m not a young teenager anymore. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. Especially in such a small, safe place.”
“I’ll sleep better knowing I didn’t leave you to find your way in the dark.”
“I think the Coke’ll keep you up.” No point mentioning the hundreds of times she’d hiked these same roads and trails. She might have left eleven years ago, but that didn’t erase a childhood spent exploring every inch of this island.
Silence fell as they hiked through neighborhoods and into the woods. Alanna felt her lungs burn as she fought to keep up with Jonathan. He didn’t break a sweat as she gulped oxygen. She pumped harder, refusing to let him stay ahead. Not after all the times they’d raced up and down the roads. Then he rarely bested her. She couldn’t let him start now, no matter how much her body screamed in protest.
The trees acquired shadows as the sun sank beneath them. The shadows changed the way everything looked. She hadn’t noticed the new houses and lanes on her couple of trips to the studio. Without Jonathan, she might have gotten turned around, but she wouldn’t give him that gem to use against her the next time he insisted she allow him along.
He stopped at her driveway, and she skidded to a halt next to him. “You all right from here?”
“What? Your mama didn’t tell you to walk the girl to her door? Isn’t this the equivalent of honking the horn?”
“I didn’t think you wanted me any closer.” He reached out and caressed her cheek.
“I. . .don’t.”
He leaned toward her, closing the space between them. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I don’t need you.”
“Don’t believe you. I know you better.” A strange expression flashed across his face at the words.
“You know the girl I was.”
“I see the woman hiding in the shadows.”
Her heart stilled as he stared into her eyes. Then his gaze traveled to her lips, his eyes hidden by the shadows. She clutched the handlebars but couldn’t move. Years of history zinged between them. She had to break away. He had a girl, possibly a child, though she struggled to reconcile the Jonathan she’d known with a child out-of- wedlock. She couldn’t interfere in that. She didn’t want a reason to stay on the island one day more than necessary.
She slid her bike back and forced a smile. “Good night, Jonathan.”
As she hiked up the lane, it took all her willpower not to look back and see if he still watched her. She didn’t need this attraction between them. Not now.
She parked her bike and then slipped inside the front door. She couldn’t trust herself with any man, let alone Jonathan. Not after how easily she’d handed her heart to Spencer. The way he’d callously thrown it back proved she didn’t know men and couldn’t make a good decision. Not when in a couple of short days she was ready to jump back into Jonathan’s arms after an eleven-year absence.
Only a fool relinquished her heart that quickly.