Barefoot Summer (17 page)
“I know who he is,” he said, his tone gruffer than he’d liked.
She hiked a brow. “Okay, then. Well, anyway, his jaw was all black and blue and puffed up. Looks awful. I hope it heals in time for opening night. A patient must’ve gotten hold of him or something.”
Beckett looked down at the paper place mat. Straightened it. Brushed a few crumbs from the table. He took a sip of Coke, trying to ignore the heat climbing his neck.
“Beckett . . . it was a patient or something, right?”
“Or something.”
Layla’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”
“It was an accident.”
Layla smirked. “You accidentally clocked the guy.”
He explained what happened in the park the night before, finishing with, “You could’ve told me Madison and Drew were lovers in the play.”
She snorted. “So this was my fault?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She stared at him until he looked away. His sister had a way of looking into his eyes and reading his every thought. It was annoying.
“I didn’t think you’d want a play-by-play,” she said when she’d finished dissecting his brain. “But I have noticed them getting pretty friendly at rehearsals.”
Something twisted inside. Stupid play. Bad enough the doctor was going out with her, and now all this time together practicing at being lovers . . .
“If you’re going to make a move—finally—you’d better do it soon, bro.”
“It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
“Taking her sister to the banquet and breaking her heart doesn’t really count.”
“Low blow.”
She shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”
Deep down he guessed he’d thought, with them working together on this sailing thing, that if it was meant to be, it would somehow happen. He hadn’t counted on Dr. Perfect showing up and sweeping her off her feet.
Layla set her hand on Beckett’s arm. “I think you should go for it. I know you get hung up on the person you used to be, but you’ve changed, Beck. You have a lot to offer. I mean, I know I’m just your sister, but you’re a good man. You’re loyal and fun. You
can even be charming when you decide to smile. And I’ve heard other women say you’re nice-looking.” She put up her hands and settled back in the booth. “I don’t see it, but whatever.”
He gave a wry smile. He wasn’t sure his sister was right about any of it, but she didn’t have all the facts. He’d never told her about his part in Michael’s death. There was only one person who knew, and he was in jail.
Layla squeezed his arm. “Seriously, it’s now or never. I mean, you know I think you’re tops, but a
doctor
, Beck. In single-girl world that carries a lot of weight. And he seems like a nice guy too. I won’t mention how I feel about his dreamy good looks because that would just be mean.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, it would.”
Layla took a sip of her soda. “So how did Madison react last night when you pummeled her date?”
“It was one swing.”
Layla made a face. “Impressive. So did she get mad at you and fawn all over her fallen hero or what?”
He thought back, skimming the scene in his mind, something he’d avoided all day. “No, she just, I don’t know. She wasn’t mad exactly. And she was pretty cool about it this morning.”
“You talked to her? Good job.” Layla patted his hand as if he were a child.
“We had a sailing lesson.”
“Oh. Well, at least she’s not mad.”
“She even joked about it a little.”
Layla smiled. “I like this girl.”
“She said it was sweet that I came to her rescue, or something like that.”
Layla pressed her hand to her heart, smiling. “Awww. She felt protected.”
“From her innocent date.”
“Still. I’m sure she didn’t approve of you, you know, beating up her date and all, but a woman does love a protective man.”
“Sounds old-fashioned.”
“Not old-fashioned, timeless. Trust me. So pray about it, okay? ’Cause I think she’d make a great sister-in-law.”
“You’re jumping the gun, little girl.” But he couldn’t deny the tiny thrill that coursed through him at the thought.
The server slid a piping hot pie onto the table. “Enjoy!” she said before sashaying away.
Beckett served Layla the first slice, then took one of his own, the fragrant smell of garlic and oregano teasing his nose.
“So you’ll pray about it?” Layla asked again after he said grace.
“You’re a pest.”
“That’s not an answer.” She took a big bite from the end of a slice, wiping the tomato sauce that dribbled down her chin.
“Fine. I’ll pray about it.”
She shrugged. “All I’m asking.”
P
LAY REHEARSAL WAS CANCELED ON
M
ONDAY DUE TO AN
electrical problem, and Madison found herself with a rare free night. The long night stretched ahead like a deserted country lane. Instead of relishing an evening of relaxation, she found herself weighing options to occupy her night and finally settled on a jog. Not wanting to fight with the leash, she left Lulu at home, feeling a tug of guilt as she strode down her drive. The evening air was cool, a nice breeze blowing in off the river. The sun dipped low in the sky.
Ever since Jade had left, a night at home meant quiet. Quiet led to thinking, and thinking led to feelings. Feelings she was tired of shoving down. Even sleep was no escape. Once or twice a week the nightmare intruded, waking her in a cold sweat. Then she’d lie there, unable to shake the awful panic.
Just two more weeks, Madison. Then the nightmares will be gone.
She’d win the regatta, achieve Michael’s dream, and she’d finally have peace, finally move on with her life. Finally replace the bad dream with a good one.
Even so, the dark feelings pressed heavily on her. They’d been coming more often lately, she realized, despite her busy schedule. Maybe because of the upcoming race. It was making her think of Michael more. She just needed to stay busy and on task. When she won, the rest would take care of itself.
She picked up her pace, wanting to clear her mind. She wished she could fast-forward to race day. She was eager to put it behind her. She ran faster, as if she could speed time along as easily. Her feet pounded the pavement in rhythmic thumps, her breaths came more quickly, making her lungs burn.
A few minutes later she was ripping through Riverside Park. Halfway through, she saw Beckett on the concrete basketball court. He dribbled in for an easy layup, catching the ball after it swished through the hoop.
As he turned with the ball, he spotted her. Madison slowed and walked toward him, huffing. He met her at the edge of the court.
“Hey there . . . just out for a jog.” Duh. She winced.
“I thought you were being chased by the hounds of hell for a minute. That’s quite a pace you set.”
She shrugged. “Working on your game?”
“Not really. Just clearing the cobwebs.” He dribbled the ball three times, then held it. “How’s Drew?”
She frowned, then realized Beckett was talking about his jaw. “He’s fine. Just fine.” Several had commented on his bruise at church, and Madison had squirmed as he’d sidestepped the question.
“I should let you get back to your run,” he said. “Target heart rate and all that.”
She glanced in the direction she’d been headed, realizing the jog was doing nothing to clear her mind or change her emotional state. The realization made her shoulders slump and she pressed her heels into the concrete. Sometimes she wished she could run away from herself.
“You okay?”
She looked at him, ready with an easy answer, and found herself falling headlong into his dark eyes. The easy answer dissolved from the tip of her tongue.
“No.” It was the most honest thing she’d said all week.
His face showed no surprise as he held her gaze for a long minute. “Come on. I want to take you somewhere.”
He took a few steps backward, and she followed, surprised when he passed the park’s walkway. He headed toward the wooded hillside behind the court, turning to make sure she followed. Their feet swished through the overgrown grass, then they started up a trail.
“Where we going?” she asked when they were well into the shadowed woods.
“You’ll see.”
The pace was easy after her hard run, and the cooler air felt good. She breathed in the loamy fragrance as they wound their way up the hill. Brittle leaves crunched and twigs snapped under the weight of their feet. Overhead, a leafy canopy blocked out the last of the day’s light. A chickadee began a string of clear, two-note whistles.
It was a beautiful property. “Who owns this?”
He held a branch for her. “It’s part of the state park.”
“Lulu would love it up here.”
“So does Rigsby, but he comes back covered in burrs.”
The terrain grew rockier as they climbed. They crossed over a dry creek bed and a fallen tree. Awhile later Madison saw a patch of light ahead and knew they were nearly to the peak. When they stepped from the woods, Beckett began climbing a tower of boulders.
She followed, taking his hand when her shorter legs made the next step difficult.
Her fingertips gripped a ledge as she pulled herself up. “You’re trying to break my leg so I’ll have to forfeit the race.”
“You’re on to me.”
A few more reaches and they came to the top. A flat rock the size of a shed roof jutted out over the other side of the hill.
She meandered to the ledge, but the steep drop into a pine-filled canyon made her retreat. Across the way, the sun hung low on the horizon, streaking the sky with vibrant pinks and purples. Across the valley she spied the old white chapel and the nearby site of the spring for which the town was named. They were on top of the world.
She placed her hands on her hips, let out a breath, and stared in awe at the beautiful scene. “How did I not know this was here?”
He sank down onto the rock, a good distance from the edge, facing the sunset. “Pretty nice, huh?”
The perfect spot for a romantic picnic. She’d bet Beckett had brought his share of women here. Maybe all the girls he’d dated in high school.
She sank down beside him. The rock, having soaked in the heat of the day, warmed the backs of her legs. “Your own little Inspiration Point?”
“Nah, like to keep the place to myself.”
He was sharing it with her though. She cocked a brow at the realization.
He rubbed his jaw, looked away. His face had taken on a golden glow under the sunset, softening his rugged features, making him appear almost vulnerable.
He seemed content in the quiet. Madison breathed in the scent of pine, decaying leaves, and a hint of Beckett’s spicy cologne. She closed her eyes and listened as a bird tweeted from somewhere
nearby. The breeze rustled the leaves and caressed the bare skin on her arms and legs.
“How often do you come up here?”
He settled back on his elbows, the position straining the material of his T-shirt. “Sometimes I do my Bible study up here. Sometimes when I need to do some heavy-duty thinking—or praying.”
“Is that what you think I need?”
“Does it matter what I think?”
She glanced at him. His own eyes were closed, as if soaking up nature. Or praying.
She wished she could unload her burden. Tell him everything she felt about Michael. How much she missed him. How much she longed to be free of him, and how guilty she felt about that. Yet how desperate—how utterly desperate she was for peace. For sleep.
He would listen, she knew that. And he wouldn’t judge her. He was all too familiar with being judged.
She suddenly remembered that night they’d danced her sophomore year, how he’d told her he hadn’t stolen the class ring, as if what she thought actually mattered to him. It was a small moment in light of all life had brought since, but it had seemed significant at the time.
Especially the kiss. It had become the kiss she’d compared every one after it to—the one that made all others pale in comparison.
She gave a rueful smile. Pretty lame, considering Beckett didn’t even remember it.
“When I sit up here,” he said, his eyes open now, “I’m just blown away that God even notices us, you know?”
She looked at the hills and valleys, at the river snaking through them, the hundreds of rooftops of Chapel Springs far below, sheltering families just like hers.
Did God really notice them? Each and every one of them? Did He notice her? She found it hard to believe. It was a big thing, being noticed. Part of what Jade struggled with, she’d always thought. It was hard finding a spot in the big world, hard even in a big family. There’d been plenty of times she’d felt a little lost in the chaotic shuffle of the McKinley household. But she wouldn’t have traded her large family for the world. She wondered if Jade felt the same.
“Some people spend their whole lives trying to be noticed,” she said.
She felt his eyes on her for a moment before he spoke. “You?”
She lay back against the rock, cupping her head in her palms. “Sometimes.”
The sun was sinking lower in the sky, the streaks of pink growing more vibrant.
“I noticed you a long time ago.”
His words made her heart thump against the rock, even as she recognized the irony. Beckett may have noticed her briefly, but he’d forgotten her quickly enough.
“No, you didn’t,” she said. “Not really.”
The kind of noticing she meant entailed more than a passing glance. It meant being seen. Being remembered. People wanted significance. She did, Jade did, everyone did.
“You were wearing a white skirt that twirled around your knees . . . and a blue sweater with tiny butterflies around the collar.”
She drew in a long, quiet breath as she turned. He remembered what she’d worn to the dance all those years ago?
He returned her gaze. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t define, though she desperately wanted to.
“You remember?” Her voice was so quiet, she wasn’t sure he’d heard.
“I remember everything about you.”
It seemed impossible. He’d been so busy getting into trouble and going out with other girls. Other than that one kiss, he’d never so much as hinted at any interest.
