Last Chance Knit & Stitch (21 page)

“I kissed Annie Roberts when we were both fourteen
and wearing bathing suits at the time,” he said. “It was during the Watermelon Festival. She didn’t like my braces. And besides, even then she was more interested in Nick Clausen.”

“She’s Annie Jasper now. And Nick died.”

“I heard about Nick.” A little fissure opened in his heart. As much as he tried to square this place with where he’d grown up, the images didn’t fit or overlap.

He pushed those thoughts away. “And you? Did you make out on the float?”

She shook her head and then dived under the water. She surfaced a few yards upstream and started swimming. He followed her. They swam for a few minutes, until Simon’s muscles started to burn.

“So what now?” she asked as she let the current pull her back down toward the public pier.

“Now we go put on our clothes and get some dinner at the Pig Place.” As much as he wanted to suggest something else, he still planned to keep his promise to her father. He was glad he’d gotten her to drop her defenses, get naked, and go swimming. But he had no intention of “messing” with her as Coach had so inelegantly put it.

“You get out first,” she said.

He chuckled. “No, I don’t think so.”

She turned and splashed water in his face.

He retaliated.

The splash fight soon escalated into a full-out dunking war in which he discovered that Molly was one part mermaid. She eluded him, swimming upstream, mostly submerged, her long hair trailing out behind her as she swam. She was sneaky and fast and could stay under for a remarkably long time.

But he had more stamina than she did. And fighting the current required lots of that. He caught her at last, but the moment his fingers encircled her arm, his desire to dunk her evaporated, replaced by a yearning that was almost adolescent in its intensity.

She stopped fighting him and snaked her hands around his neck. The slide of her skin warmed him. Her lips were cold, her mouth was hot. And even in the freezing water, desire pumped through him the minute he got his first taste of Molly Canaday. She kissed him back with complete abandon, as if the Edisto had washed away the mask she wore most of the time, as it surely had washed away the promise he’d made to her father.

Heaven only knew how far he might have gone if Zeph Gibbs hadn’t rescued him from his own stupidity.

Z
eph stood on the beaten earth by the public boat launch watching the young’uns in the water. Painful memories whirled and tumbled through him. He wanted to hide deep in the woods where the ghost couldn’t find him and punish him for remembering.

The ghost was edgy, and now Zeph knew why. The ghost was jealous of the living. And he would be particularly jealous of Simon. Simon could still go swimming. Simon got to kiss a girl.

“Is that you, Simon?” Zeph called. He knew it was Simon out there with Coach’s daughter. He knew he shouldn’t be here invading their privacy.

But he had to stop what was happening, before the ghost did something bad. The ghost had learned how to haunt real good in the last few years, like a poltergeist from right out of one of those books Gabe Raintree wrote. And Zeph sure didn’t want that ghost to get a notion to haunt Simon. That boy had been through enough. He didn’t need the ghost making things even harder.

The young’uns broke apart. The ghost settled some.

“Zeph?” Simon’s voice.

“It’s me. It’s your old Zeph. I hate to interrupt but can I have a word with you?”

Simon said something to the girl and took a couple of strong strokes toward the shore. He emerged, the water streaming down his sides. He was all growed up now. Not even really a young’un anymore. Which made Zeph feel ancient.

Simon reached for his jeans and tugged them up. They didn’t slide so good over his wet skin, and he had to hop on one foot and then the other. The memories assailed Zeph.

Simon finally took a few steps forward. “What is it?” he asked.

Zeph looked toward the girl who was still treading water. “You and me should walk a little ways, so Coach’s daughter can get her clothes on.”

Simon looked toward the water and gave a little shout. “I need to talk with Zeph, Molly. I’ll be right back.”

Coach’s daughter didn’t say nothing back. Zeph and Simon took a little stroll down the path. The ghost was still agitated. “Uh, Simon, I know it’s none of my business, but do you know what you’re doing?”

Simon snorted a laugh. “No, not exactly.”

“I figured. Well, take it from me, you don’t want to be messing with Coach’s daughter. That’s just dumb. You’re too old for her. And I hear you’re just staying for a little while, and that girl has Last Chance stamped all over her, if you know what I mean.”

“I guess I do,” Simon said, and Zeph believed him. There was a yearning in his voice for things he could never have. Zeph knew about that feeling. He knew it very well.

“You need to take that girl home.”

“I guess.” Simon let go of a long breath. “I forgot how beautiful it was out here.”

Zeph didn’t like hearing that. He didn’t want Simon out here. It would upset the ghost. But if he told Simon the truth, they’d call him crazy. And then some do-gooder would try to get him locked up in some VA hospital.

So he had to lie.

“This place isn’t like it was when you were a boy,” Zeph finally said. “The Jonquil House is falling down; people don’t come here that often. And there are snakes in the river. You want to be careful.”

“I’m not afraid of snakes. As I recall, Gabe was the one who was afraid of snakes.”

“That’s right. But a man is just plumb stupid not to be afraid of some things, Simon. So I’d suggest that you keep your distance from that girl. And you keep your distance from this place. You hear me?”

A frown folded down across Simon’s brow. “You told me that before. What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing. Just you and the girl shouldn’t ought to be skinny-dipping like that in broad daylight. It’s just not right, and it’s not safe, and I doubt her daddy would be happy about it.”

Simon’s shoulders stiffened. “All right. I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned and walked away.

And that almost broke Zeph’s heart in two. But at least the ghost was satisfied.

Molly’s hair dripped down the back of her neck, soaking her T-shirt. Without a towel, any hope of staying dry
was impossible. She probably should have thought about this before shucking her clothes.

As it was, she was trying to figure out her tumbling emotions right at the moment. If Zeph hadn’t shown up, Simon’s incredible kiss would have probably led her right to the Peach Blossom Motor Court or someplace equally skanky. That might have been fun. But of course, it would have gotten her into hot water with her father.

She was lacing up her sneakers when Simon returned.

Her heart thumped in her chest, and little explosions of heat blazed through her to see him walking on bare feet with his chest exposed. His long, elegant toes matched his beautiful hands. But his naked chest—well, there were no words that were up to the task of describing it, or the way just looking at him made her feel all hollow and melty inside.

She wished he hadn’t put on his pants.

“So,” Simon said, his voice low and gruff. He drew the one-syllable word out. It might have been a sigh, or a question, or a punctuation point. It was hard to tell.

He stood on the other side of the clearing by their lawn chairs. She wanted him to come closer and kiss her again, but the moment had come and gone. She felt oddly bashful, even though she was completely covered up now.

She shouldn’t mess with him. The logistics were bound to get very complicated. She was living at home now. When she’d been in college, sleeping with guys had been pretty easy to manage. But carrying on with someone you weren’t ever going to go steady with, much less marry, was difficult in Last Chance.

Besides, she was Coach’s daughter. And he had rules. They were stupid rules, but he took them seriously, and
besides, he was pretty depressed right at the moment. He’d been sitting at home with the television on, not moving and not speaking to anyone. Momma’s leaving had hit him pretty hard.

It was a shame. Because Simon had a killer body, and he seemed to be laboring under the illusion that she was attractive. It was a deadly combination.

“We better go,” she said.

“I guess going to the Pig Place is out, huh?”

She pulled her hair to one side and tried to wring a little more water out of it. “Maybe not such a good idea. I’m all wet, and we’d have a hard time explaining that. I swear, one of these days I’m going to whack all this hair off. It’s just a nuisance.”

“Don’t.” It was a fierce whisper, if ever she heard one.

“It’s okay. I’m always threatening to cut my hair, and I never have the courage to go through with it. I’m not sure why.” She picked up her tackle box and gear while he put on his shirt and folded the chairs.

It was late in the day, but not quite dusk. Simon looked like a veritable god moving around in that golden afternoon light. Molly decided that she could spend the rest of her days watching Simon move. He was still an athlete.

They headed down the narrow path that led to the parking area at the end of Bluff Road. “So,” she said, just to make conversation in the silence that had sprung up, “are you and Zeph special friends or something?”

“We were, I guess, back when I was a boy and Luke Raintree was still alive.”

She looked over her shoulder. “You knew Luke?”

“I was there the day he died.”

“Oh, my God.” She stopped and turned. “When I was
in high school, we used to come down here sometimes and hang out at the Jonquil House. It’s all abandoned now and really creepy at night. Perfect for scaring the bejesus out of little kids. Everyone used to say that Luke Raintree haunted the place.”

Something flickered in Simon’s brown eyes and then disappeared behind his perfect, mild-mannered mask. He started walking again, but his whole body seemed to have gone stiff. Boy, she must have hit a nerve. Not to mention the fact that it was weird to be with someone who had actually known Luke Raintree. He’d died a long time ago.

She followed after him. “Uh, I’m sorry, I guess. You knew him well?”

“Luke Raintree was my best friend until the day his brother shot him dead.”

Simon found it a little strange to be sitting in the passenger’s seat. But Molly clearly loved driving her vintage Charger, and there was something about the way she casually held the steering wheel with one hand. It was sexy as hell.

Which was a thought he needed to ice right now.

They said almost nothing as she drove him back to his mother’s house in town. Just before he got out of the car, he turned toward her and said, “I didn’t mean for that kiss to happen. You know it would be crazy, and probably dangerous, for the two of us to go down that road, don’t you?”

“Dangerous?”

“Yeah. I have no desire to get on Coach’s bad side.”

“What does Coach have to do with it?”

“He came by to see me the other day, specifically to
tell me to stay clear of you. He thinks you’ve got a crush on me.”

There was still enough light for him to see the blush that rose to her cheeks. “That’s silly,” she said emphatically.

“Look, kiddo, you don’t want to have a crush on me. I’m hard on women. And I’m too old for you. And besides, I’d rather be your friend.”

She looked up. Something strange burned in those changeable eyes of hers. “That’s good. Friends are good.”

“So we understand each other?”

“Absolutely.” She looked away, and Simon had the terrible feeling that she was going to leave this encounter thinking she was unattractive or undesirable.

But he’d given Coach his word. And when Coach and Zeph were in agreement, the moral path was clear. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and got out of the car.

He didn’t turn to look over his shoulder as she peeled out of the driveway with a little bit of wheel spin and flying gravel. Molly had a temper, and he’d just ignited it.

Thank God Zeph had come along when he had. It wouldn’t be the first time Zeph had saved him.

It was just a shame that Zeph hadn’t been there to save Luke.

And that errant thought stopped him in his tracks. He stood there on the porch steps like a man who’d been struck by lightning. Memories he’d pushed under for so long suddenly swirled up, like mud from the river bottom.

There had been another day, when he was thirteen, when Zeph had pulled him out of the abyss and sent him home. Simon had stood right here on the porch steps, his
world shattered, his heart breaking. He’d needed someone that day.

And there wasn’t anyone who cared.

The sounds of his mother and father arguing reached him even through the front door. He’d stood there, tears running down his face, knowing that nothing good ever came from an argument. He’d bypassed the door and hid out in the shed, crying his eyes out until there wasn’t anything left to cry.

By nightfall, all of Last Chance had heard the news that Governor Raintree’s grandson had been tragically killed in a hunting accident. But by then, the hot argument between Simon’s parents had run its course. And his parents had entered the chill phase. Each of them had gone off to their individual places upstairs. They’d put on their separate television sets, at the highest volume possible, so they didn’t have to hear each other moving around. They had staked out their territories. And the war was on.

Mother and Daddy’s really big fights—the ones that had turned into pitched battles—may have started as screaming matches but they always ended in silence, punctuated every once in a while with hurtful verbal darts.

The day Luke died, they’d been screaming. The day Luke was buried, they weren’t speaking. And both of them were so focused on their battle that neither of them had the time or inclination to think about Simon or the pain he felt.

The heavy sigh caught him almost unawares, along with the telltale tension in his neck and shoulders. The memories of that horrible day seemed to haunt this place. Had haunted it for years. He hated coming in the front door.