Lillo’s heart was pounding harder than her feet on the pavement. Mac had no business going out in the dark during a rising tide. None of them did. She sucked in a breath and pushed herself harder.
“Wouldn’t it be faster across the beach?” Diana yelled.
Lillo couldn’t even answer. The gravelly sand would slow them down though the distance was shorter.
She reached the gate and scooted around it. Stopped long enough to shine her flashlight over the rocks. Caught Mac in its beam. She was bent nearly double trying to keep her balance against the gusts of wind and the slippery surface of the paved path to the lighthouse. “Mac. Come back!”
Mac raised her hand but kept going.
“Mac, stop!”
Diana slipped past the gate. “What can we do?”
“Stay here. Be ready to call for help if we need it. Hopefully we won’t.”
“I have my phone. Be careful.”
Lillo stepped onto the jetty. The waves washed over her feet. Damn. If she didn’t hurry, both she and Mac would be spending the night at the lighthouse. She put her shoulder into the wind, and keeping the flashlight beam alternating between the path before her and Mac’s progress, she pushed ahead.
Mac was moving slowly and Lillo caught up to her halfway across. She grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It’s those damn boys.”
As she said it, they heard a motor catch and the sound of an engine puttered above the sound of the waves. Lillo gritted her teeth. “They’re gone, the little shits. Come on, let’s go back.”
“I should check—” Mac had to yell to be heard.
The water was rising fast, as it always did. A few more minutes and they’d have to swim for shore.
“It’ll wait until tomorrow.” Lillo pulled at Mac, but she resisted and they both almost went down.
“Can we please go back? My shoes are getting ruined.”
Mac nodded.
Lillo held on to her and they slid and stumbled their way back to dry land. By the time they reached the others, water had covered the jetty.
Jess and Allie each took one of Mac’s arms and led her toward the gift shop.
Lillo and Diana were left looking at each other.
“Does she do that often?”
“Mainly in summer. Season for camping, hiking, and vandalizing.”
They started toward the gift shop, Lillo’s shoes squishing with each step.
“Is that why you stay?” Diana asked.
“No. Clancy is here off and on during the winter. And like I said, they’re mainly kids from town who are out of school with nothing to do and think it’s cool to climb the lighthouse at night.”
“What about a lock?”
“It is locked. They just break the windows. And climb up. They always find a way. Once someone stole the key. We had the locks changed. And they still got in.”
“They come by boat?”
“Yeah, or they slip through the gate like we did tonight. There needs to be a better barrier but there’s hardly enough money to keep the lighthouse from being razed. No one wants that. Plus, it was Mac’s life. Still is.”
They reached Mac’s back door to find light flooding in from the kitchen and an argument in progress. When they stepped into the kitchen, Mac turned on Lillo. “And don’t you start.”
Lillo threw open her hands in a helpless gesture.
Mac exhaled. “Jess and Allie are already on my case.”
“Well, it’s dangerous to go out alone at night, regardless of whether the tide is in or out,” Allie said, giving Mac a stern look.
“As well as stupid,” Lillo added.
Mac glared at her. “With all the excitement, it just crept up on me.”
“What did?” Lillo asked.
“The summer. And damn them if they aren’t starting early this year. Is school out already?”
Lillo nodded. “Looks like it.”
“I’ll just have to sleep out there until summer is over.”
“There’s no electricity, no running water. What are you going to do, hang your butt over the windowsill when you have to pee?”
“Lillo!” Jess said.
“You gonna pay the insurance if somebody gets hurt?” Mac countered. “If we can even keep the insurance. They’ll deny us coverage and they’ll close us down completely.”
“You need a better security system.” Lillo had been party to this argument time and time again. Sometimes Clancy joined in, sometimes it was Ned. Mac was determined to keep the lighthouse. The town was determined to keep it. It was a landmark, but there wasn’t a penny in the coffers to keep it up.
They should have sold it to that New York billionaire when they had the chance. It was a whim on his part and evidently the whim had passed. They hadn’t had another offer.
“Well, they won’t come back tonight,” Lillo said. “Tomorrow we’ll make a plan. But no going back out there tonight.”
Mac looked everywhere but at Lillo.
“Promise me.”
“Oh, all right. Now you four go on and let me get back to what I was doing before those damn kids interrupted me.”
“What was that?”
“Looking for the cocoa.”
“I saw it when we were here the other day,” Allie said. “In the cabinet by the fridge.”
Mac went over to the cabinet. Opened the door, peered inside.
“There,” Allie said. “There. Next to the tea bags.”
Mac reached up and fumbled for the canister of cocoa.
“Let me.” Allie reached over and pulled it from the shelf.
“Thank you, dear. Think I must be getting shorter in my old age. Now I’m gonna have myself some cocoa and go to bed.”
The four women filed out the door.
“Want us to turn off the porch light?” Lillo called.
“I’ll get it. You gals go have some fun.”
Fun was the last thing on Lillo’s mind when they reached her cottage. The lights were on, the wineglasses were still half full, and she was thinking about what Diana had said about her staying because of Mac.
They returned to their same places as if they’d been sitting in the same spots for years instead of a couple of days.
“Whew,” Allie said. “Does she do that often?”
“No, she usually scares them away before they get that far. She used to fire a shotgun in the air. But Clancy put an end to that.” Lillo chuckled. “She’s a pip. She’s stubborn and speaks her mind, and doesn’t mind telling you what you need or to mind your own business, but she’s what they call salt of the earth, you know?”
“Beginning to,” Diana said. “Well, I’m off to bed. All this fresh ocean air, heavy food, plus I want to be my best for my riding lesson tomorrow.” She sashayed down the hall.
The other two soon followed. Lillo washed the wineglasses and spent a long time looking out the window at the sea. It was frightening sometimes, the sea at night. Like it could swallow you whole if you blinked for a second. Mostly it made her feel safe. But she was feeling not so safe tonight. Something in her was shifting, like the sand when she climbed a sand dune, but inside her. Not a smooth transition, but in awkward hiccups.
Was it because Mac could have literally been swept out of her life? Or because she’d let these three women into her house and unintentionally into her life? What would happen when they left? Would life go back to what it had been before they came? What if she lost Mac?
Stupid, she thought. Big deal. You have houseguests. People do it all the time. And Mac isn’t going anywhere for a long time.
When Diana made her appearance at breakfast the next morning, she was dressed for riding. She found the other three in the kitchen making coffee and talking and laughing like they were at a coffee klatch. They stopped when they saw her.
“Well, la-di-da,” Jess said.
“What? You never saw me in jeans before?”
“Not like those,” Jess quipped.
“You mean baggy jeans and a denim shirt?” Her consignment-store jeans sagged in the butt and had to be belted at the waist. Though she had also bought another pair that fit pretty well considering someone else had already stretched them out. She was saving those for the barbecue.
She twirled, stretching her arms out like Wonder Woman. “Do you think I’m dressed appropriately for the stables?”
Lillo just stared at her. “Yeah. That works.”
“Could you pour me some coffee from that carafe you’re holding? I need a little jolt before I ‘howdy, partner’ my way over to the stables.” Diana held out her mug. “Do you think he has English saddles?”
Lillo made a face. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
At eleven fifteen Diana began her walk up the road to the vet’s. Ian Lachlan. Lillo had told her his name, but that was about it. She was a little nervous. She wanted to ride; seeing him mounted yesterday had brought back fond memories of riding. She’d have to make more of an effort to visit her own horses. How had she managed to just ignore them for the last few years?
Two words. “Start-up company.” Or was that three words?
Either way, it was up and running. Surely she could loosen the reins—she smiled at herself for the apropos expression—and let someone else run some of the day-to-day operations. It would give her more time to design, which is what she really liked to do.
But today she was going to enjoy an hour out in the sunshine on the back of a horse. Hopefully not one of the old hacks she’d seen at the stables, but one with a little get-up-and-go.
She arrived at the vet’s office as the door opened and a man stepped out. Ian came right behind him. He was wearing a white coat and carried an animal, a lamb or a goat maybe, in his arms, like those shepherds you saw on Christmas cards. The man ran ahead to lower the gate of a banged-up pickup truck. He unlatched the door of a mesh crate in the truck bed and the two men maneuvered the animal into it.
They said a few words, shook hands, and the man drove away.
Ian turned and walked past her without a word. She followed him into the reception room. Into the examination area, where he dumped his coat into a basket and stepped over to a large sink, ran the water until steam rose, then scrubbed his hands and arms up to the elbows while Diana watched and tried not to imagine where those hands had been this morning.
She followed him into the barn. He didn’t even look back, probably hoping she would disappear if he refused to acknowledge her. Well, he’d soon learn.
Instead of opening one of the stalls and leading the horse out for her to ride, he merely tossed her a pitchfork that was leaning against the wood.
“You can start with this one. Shouldn’t take more than a half hour.” He walked away.
Diana started laughing. God, she was having a good time.
She saw him hesitate, then continue walking.
“Hey, don’t you know never to turn your back on a woman with a pitchfork?”
He stopped completely for a second and then walked out of the barn.
“See you in thirty,” she called after him, and carried the pitchfork into the first stall.
She was sitting on a bale of hay when he returned a half hour later. He looked at her, checked the first stall. Moved to the second.
“Won’t find a piece of shit anywhere,” she said, thinking, You’re the only one left. But she didn’t mean it. She didn’t get him, but she was definitely entertained by him. The few short sentences he’d spoken in their two brief meetings told her he was no dummy. So what was his story?
“I only have trail saddles,” he said without responding to her statement.
“That’s fine.” She stifled the urge to say, Real riders ride English.
She braced herself, expecting him to toss the saddle at her—not that anything would have kept her on her feet under the weight of all that leather. But he hoisted it over the half wall of the stall and went in to lead out a bay who looked like she’d been treated well, except for some scarring along her side.
Diana moved closer; the horse stepped back until she reached out her hand and stroked her flank. “What happened to her?”
“Barn fire. Not this one,” was all he said, and led the horse out to be bridled and saddled.
“What’s her name?”
“Princess.” He said it with no intonation at all. But when Diana smiled at him, she saw one side of his mouth quiver as if he were fighting the absurdity of the sound of “Princess” on his fairly inviting lips.
Too bad he was such a grouch.
Diana stood at Princess’s nose while Ian saddled her, then waited until Ian opened the stall to the gray she’d seen him ride yesterday.
He slipped a bit into the gray’s mouth, then lifted his chin toward a back door.
“Aren’t you going to saddle him?”
“Not today.”
“Is his name Prince?” she asked, mainly just to be provoking.
“Loki.”
“Loki as in the Norse god or as in an equidistant location between several points?”
He didn’t bother to answer.
She just smiled complacently and led Princess out of the stable.
It was sort of like Dorothy opening the door to the land of Oz. From the insular lighting of the horse barn into the bright sunlight of an open field that stretched to the horizon on one side and was bordered by woods on the other. Outcroppings of dark granite heaved from the earth in a number of places. Closer to the barn a large paddock was freshly repaired.
Ian lifted the latch and motioned her in. Evidently she was going to have to prove her prowess before he let her out in the wild. If he tried to walk her in a circle for the next half hour, she’d show him how a horse named Princess and her Manhattan rider could take a fence even in a western saddle.
She led Princess inside.
“I suppose you need—”
Diana shoved her new sneaker into the stirrup and hoisted her butt into the saddle. She’d probably be crippled the next day, but she’d be damned if she was going to let this good-looking rube belittle her every time he opened his mouth.
She’d been on enough vacations to have learned about riding western. Princess danced a little, but Ian didn’t move to calm her, and it only took Diana a few seconds to have her walking around the perimeter of the paddock. She turned her and came back the opposite way, in increasingly small circles.
When she’d completed her smallest circle, she looked down at him. “Does she know her Airs Above the Ground?”
He smiled. Diana almost slipped from the saddle.
No wonder he was so taciturn. If he even hinted at being charming, he would be overrun with every fawning local lady from miles around. Though she didn’t for a minute think that was what made him so distant and . . . solitary.
And she wasn’t sure she really wanted to delve deep enough to find out.
She rode Princess out of the paddock. Watched as Ian threw himself effortlessly onto Loki’s bare back. This was just getting better and better. They walked the horses side by side for a while as they headed toward open land. He stopped when they reached an opening in a fence that might mark his property line.
“Princess is good-tempered, she won’t bolt with you or throw you if you’re gentle with her. But don’t go too near the ledge. She’ll shy, and you both would go over. So if I tell you to stop or come back, you will do so. Immediately.”
She nodded. She had no doubt his concern was more for the horse than the rider.
He nudged Loki through the gate; Princess let him take the lead and they rode single file along a narrow path through the rocks and grasses interspersed with moss and greenery that she had no name for. She wondered if Ian knew but she didn’t ask. She was enjoying the feel of the horse beneath her and the freedom.
He nudged Loki again and the horse broke into a faster but comfortable gait, which Princess mimicked without Diana having to direct her. The horses were moving in tandem, probably used to these trails and all sorts of riders. They were both well trained and not on their last legs.
The sun beat down on their heads and backs, and a breeze kicked up now and then only to swirl away. Diana lost her sense of time and thoughts of work or even what her friends were doing or when they expected her to return.
Occasionally Ian glanced back, but his gaze didn’t linger. Evidently she was passing inspection.
They followed the trail along the edge of the bluffs, where she’d seen Ian riding yesterday as he headed toward the wood closer to the stable. Below them the ocean sparkled far off to the horizon and the waves rolled in, cascading white foam on the shore.
They turned away from the bluff and entered a copse of trees where the air became cooler and damp. Ian urged Loki forward; both horses broke into a canter and were soon on the other side and back in the sunshine. They were headed back to the horse barn.
All too soon the ride was over and Diana reluctantly dismounted and led Princess back into the stable barn. It had been glorious and all too short, though she had no doubt she’d be feeling it the next morning.
Ian showed her the tack room. She knew just what to get for grooming a horse post-ride. They had walked most of the time, so Princess wouldn’t need a serious hosing. She took the equipment and went to work. She was checking Princess’s forelegs when she realized Ian was standing behind her, watching.
Her first instinct was to be creeped out, but she realized he was just overseeing her technique.
“Ever diligent?” she asked.
He shrugged and walked away.
Diana went back to her task. Princess stood perfectly still. She seemed to be enjoying the attention. Diana stood and tossed the comb back into the pail. “There you go, Princess girl. I’ll see if I can rustle up a carrot or apple for you.”
She went in search of Ian, whose head she could see over Loki’s stall door. She was about to ask him where he kept the treats when she realized he wasn’t grooming Loki but had stretched his arms along his side, his cheek pressed to Loki’s coat.
Horse whisperer? Figures. A man who could commune with animals but obviously not people. She wouldn’t interrupt him. She’d just look for a fridge or apple bin.
He found her rummaging around in the feed room. “Just looking for a carrot or something.”
“Hungry?”
“For Princess. I might point out she’s much too elegant for her name.”
He shrugged, picked up a carryall and reached inside, came out with two carrots, and handed her one.
“I keep them in the house. Too many marauders.”
“Two-legged or four-legged?”
“Both.”
She said good-bye to Princess, who was enjoying her carrot and nuzzled Diana’s neck in gratitude. Diana gave her a good pat. “See you tomorrow, fingers crossed.”
Five minutes later she was walking back down the road. Her legs were definitely going to feel the unhabitual exercise, but she’d managed to convince Ian to let her come to the stables the next day. She didn’t think the others would mind, it was only a couple of hours. And it did more good to her spirit than all the spas in Massachusetts could have done.
Now if she could just get a handle on the horse-whispering vet.