Barefoot Summer (8 page)

“Any way you like.”

She wasn’t going to like it either way.
You can do it, Madison. Just a quick dip. Like you’re in the tub. The water is clean, refreshing.
If she thought it enough, maybe it would feel true.

She stared at the water a moment. It wasn’t going to hurt her. She was perfectly safe. Finally she took a long, slow breath, held her nose, and dipped down until her head was submerged. Water pressed against her face, filled her ears, made loud gurgling sounds. She popped to the surface, letting out her breath, drawing in a lungful of oxygen.

She wiped her face with trembling hands and met his eyes, glaring. “Happy?”

His lips turned up in a rare grin. He looked proud or something. She tried not to let that look soothe her frayed nerves. She’d rather be angry.

“Perfect. Let’s try it again,” he said.

CHAPTER NINE

“H
OW ARE THE SAILING LESSONS COMING
?” M
OM PASSED THE
platter of burgers to Madison.

Twilight had draped the backyard in shadows, and a breeze wafted though the yard, rustling the canopy of leaves and cooling the air.

Beside her, Grandpa heaped a spoonful of corn onto his plate, then pushed his glasses into place. “Sailing lessons?”

“She’s going to sail the regatta this year,” PJ said, massaging her temple.

“I’ll bring the boat over later tonight if you want,” Ryan said.

“Sure. I need to get started on it.” Madison looked at Mom. “I’m actually working on swimming right now.”

“Swimming?” Dad said. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Mom was staring at her, eyes seeing everything. “You okay, hon? You still look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“She’s probably afraid to fall asleep,” Dad said. “Recurrent nightmares from when she was a baby.” He winked at Mom.

At the mention of nightmares, her gaze bounced off Ryan’s.

Mom tipped her chin up. “How was I to know she’d pick the one time I laid her on the couch to learn to roll over? Besides, it wasn’t a long drop.” The oft-repeated defense was useless. Dad would never let her live it down.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” PJ said, still rubbing her temples. “You only left Madison with a few scars. I’m the one you should feel guilty about. By the time I came along, playing with fire was an acceptable after-school activity. And where are all those pictures of me again?”

“Poor baby,” Ryan said. “I wasn’t allowed out of the house until I was eighteen.”

“You have a headache, hon?” Mom asked PJ.

“For three days in a row.”

“Want some aspirin?”

“I already took some. I’m starting to think something’s wrong.”

On her other side, Daniel rolled his eyes. Their surrogate brother knew what they all did: PJ was always thinking something was wrong.

“Must be a brain tumor,” Ryan said.

Mom swatted his arm. “That’s not funny.”

PJ made a face at Ryan. “You’ll feel bad if it really is.”

“Didn’t you say you were giving up caffeine again?” Madison asked.

“Well, yeah, since Tuesday. But come to think of it, I have been feeling kind of woozy. Maybe I should Google my symptoms.”

“You are such a hypochondriac,” Ryan said.

“Speaking of caffeine,” Mom said. “There’s a pot brewing if anyone wants some.”

“Oooh.” PJ bit her lip, looking at Madison. “You want some, don’t you? Then you could give me just a tiny little sip.”

“Who’d you say is teaching you to swim, Madison?” Grandpa asked, turning the topic on a dime.

“Um, Beckett O’Reilly.” She slathered mayo on her burger, wishing they could go back to the safer topic of brain tumors.

“O’Reilly?” Daniel frowned. “Isn’t he the one who chased Jade away?”

Mom set her hand on his arm. “Now, honey, we don’t know that.”

“I’ve heard things about him too,” Dad said. “I don’t know if I like this, Madison.”

Madison met her mom’s gaze and saw a flicker of understanding in her blue eyes. “People change, Thomas. He’s grown up now.”

Her dad’s frown hadn’t softened.

Madison looked away. “He won’t teach me to sail until I learn to swim.”

“Well, that sounds smart to me,” Grandpa said. “Why, in my day, your daddy took you to the swimming hole and tossed you in. You learned to swim soon enough.”

Reason number one why Grandpa wasn’t teaching her to swim.

“I thought it was Evan Higgins,” Mom said.

“It’s going to be a team effort—Evan’s work schedule picked up.”

“Did he ever tell you what happened with Jade that night?” Daniel asked, concern in his eyes. He had always taken to Jade especially, calling her “squirt” and tugging her hair.

“No, but I plan to get it out of him eventually.”

“You be careful,” Dad said. “I might do a little checking around . . .”

“Dad.”

Ryan took a huge bite of his burger just as his pager went off, followed by Daniel’s seconds later.

Volunteer firemen, they were on their feet in an instant,
burgers in hand. The family wished them luck as they strode toward their cars. Madison watched her mom’s eyes close, watched her lips move in a silent prayer.

Two hours later Madison was directing Ryan as he backed the boat trailer into her drive. The fire run had been a minor car accident, freeing him up pretty quickly.

“Left a little . . . a little more . . . three feet. Okay, that’s good.”

Ryan got out of the truck and bent down to unhook the trailer. “Good thing you have a long driveway.”

When Lulu stuck her wet nose in his face, he ruffled her black and white fur.

Madison turned to stare at Michael’s old boat. It looked mammoth in her driveway and old under the naked bulbs at the side of her house. Just looking at it overwhelmed her. Aesthetically, the boat was an eyesore, but Michael had said she had good bones, and Michael had surely been right. She hoped.

Madison followed Ryan back to his truck. “Thanks for bringing her over,” she said at the window.

“Hope you know what you’re doing.”

She gave him a wry grin. “Not really.”

“Well, if I know you, you’ll figure it out. Let me know if I can help.”

“Thanks.” She leaned her elbows on the window frame. “How’s work going? You’re not in a hurry, are you?”

“I don’t have a date, if that’s what you’re asking.” He gave his charming half grin.

“Who, me?” She’d set Ryan up with a few of her friends. They
all thought he hung the moon, but he’d been ambivalent at best. Truth be told, Madison didn’t think he’d ever gotten over his ex-wife. Abby had been his high school sweetheart. Sometimes Madison had wondered if their divorce had left his heart broken beyond repair.

His gaze went to her house. He wasn’t noticing the newly washed butter yellow siding or the freshly painted blue shutters, but the darkened windows and deafening quiet hovering over the yard.

Twin commas formed between his brows as he looked back to her. “You doing okay?”

She knew her mom’s comment about her looking tired wouldn’t go unnoticed. She also knew her makeup didn’t quite cover the dark circles under her eyes anymore.

“The dreams are coming more often.” Somehow calling it a dream softened the effect.

“Same one?”

She nodded. Jade had known she had an occasional nightmare. You couldn’t hide something like that from someone who slept in the next room. But Ryan was the only one she’d confided in.

“He’s gone, Mad,” Ryan said softly. “I know you loved him, we all did, but you’ve got to let him go.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? If I could just understand why. It’s always bothered me that we don’t know how he died.”

“He jumped off the cliff, got a concussion. Drowned. It was all in the autopsy report, hon.”

“But that wasn’t Michael. He was sensible. Can you imagine him doing something so crazy? It’s never made sense to me.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone, Mad.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“You know what I mean. Pastor Adams, maybe. He’s helped me through a rough time or two.”

A pastor was the last person she wanted to talk to, but she’d never tell Ryan that. Besides, the nightmares would end soon. Just as soon as she won the regatta.

“We used to have the same dreams,” she said. “Did you know that?”

“You and Michael?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “We’d both dream of flying across a snowy field the same week, or even dream of the same thing on the same night. Once we both dreamed we were wearing purple shoes. It was uncanny.”

“A twin thing, I guess. Did you guys ever have this dream you’ve been having lately?”

She shook her head. “It didn’t start until after he was gone.”

Ryan settled his elbow on the window frame. “Maybe the stress of Jade leaving is causing it to come more frequently.”

“Maybe. I’m worried about her.”

“I know. She’s a big girl though.”

“I never dreamed she’d go off on her own. I mean, where’s she sleeping? She must be running out of money. She didn’t have much in the bank.”

“I’ve been praying for her. Hope she comes back soon—I can tell it’s taking its toll on Mom. Dad too, he just hides it better.”

“I wish she’d call me.”

“At least she called Mom, so we know she’s okay.”

Or was a month ago. She knew Ryan was thinking the same thing, but neither of them wanted to say it.

“You be careful too, with O’Reilly. Mom and Dad have enough to worry about without you getting hurt.”

“Not you too. I can handle myself just fine.” It would be nice if her family gave her a little credit. She backed away from the truck. “Well, I should probably let you go home and shower.”

“Is that a hint?”

She shrugged. “I thought it was pretty direct.” She teased, but the fact was, he was a great brother, even if he did underestimate her.

“See ya, baby girl. Let me know if I can help with the boat.”

“Will do.” She thumped the door of his truck and watched his taillights disappear into the darkening night.

CHAPTER TEN

M
ADISON WAS WAIST-DEEP AND NOT HYPERVENTILATING
. The two trips she’d made to the creek this week had paid off. Beckett, her cruel taskmaster, had still challenged her. She’d spent so much time blowing bubbles underwater in the past twenty minutes, her face was probably as wrinkled as one of her nursing home friends’.

“Okay, let’s move on.” Beckett disappeared underwater and came up dripping.

“So soon?” She watched a droplet make a trail from his shoulder down to the ridges of his stomach.

“How do you feel about floating?”

“About as good as I feel about diving off the courthouse roof onto the front lawn.”

“Just lie back. I’ll support you.”

She looked at the fluid water and frowned. “Sure you will,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I have a chill.” She rubbed her arms. She actually did. It had come on about the time he’d mentioned the word
float.

She knew the science—her body was less dense than the water, so theoretically, she should float. Her brain believed it, but looking at the liquid around her, her heart wasn’t buying in.

“Just lie back. I got you.” He held his arms at water level.

Sure, she’d just lie back and trust him to keep her from drowning—trust Beckett O’Reilly, bad boy of Jefferson County.

You can reach the bottom, Madison. Nothing to fear. Deep breaths
. She sank into the water, raised one leg.

Beckett supported her thigh, her back. She stiffened, poised in pike position, clutching his bicep. She was in his arms, against his stomach. It didn’t take a genius to see he was doing all the work.

“Lie back. Relax.”

Her heart punished her ribs. She glared at him. “Easy for you to say.”

“I won’t let you drown. Close your eyes. Let your muscles relax.”

She loosened her grip on his arm. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The insidious fear or the humiliation.

Relax. Breathe
.

“Pretend you’re in bed. Sink back into the mattress.”

“My mattress isn’t made of water.”

“You can do it.” His dark eyes said he believed it. She locked onto them, tried to soak in some of his confidence, but she got distracted by his wet, spiky lashes. Long, dark lashes.

She closed her eyes and forced her muscles to relax, starting with her stomach. Slowly she unfolded, and a moment later water entered her ears, gurgling.

She stiffened as her eyes flew open.

“I got you.”

She felt his arms under her back, under her legs, tried to focus on that. She lay back, anticipating the feel of water rushing up to her hairline.
Straighten out, Madison. Come on, you can do this. Children do this every day. You’re lying in a grassy meadow. The sun is shining. You can feel the wind cooling your skin. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Beckett said something, but the water absorbed the words like a greedy sponge.

She let her legs go limp in the water, starting at the hips, working down to her knees, her ankles. Her arms stretched out limply, her elbow brushing his stomach.

She was almost floating. She could feel his arms under her still, but just for extra support. The water tickled her cheeks, her chin.