That Runaway Summer (9 page)

She’d seen the eagle with its wings spread as it soared overhead only once before. She pointed skyward, eager to share her find.

“Do you see that?” she called.

“Incredible,” Dan Maguire said, a grin splitting his face.

Jill usually jealously guarded her early-morning time on the river, getting pleasure in the isolation. This Sunday morning she was glad to have Dan along. The weather and the river had cooperated, the conditions perfect for a beginning kayaker.

She’d gone over the basics when he’d met her at Indigo River Rafters at 7:00 a.m. sharp to pick up the kayaks and transport them upriver.

Keep your hands a little more than a shoulder’s width apart on the shaft of the paddle. Make sure the smooth, concave part faces you. Rotate your torso and extend your arms while taking a stroke on the right side of the kayak, then repeat on the left.

He’d followed her directions to the letter—not that kayaking in ideal conditions was difficult.

“The white water should be mild,” she’d told him before they started. “It hasn’t rained lately, so the river is fairly low. There’s only one set of rapids that could give us trouble.”

They were approaching those rapids now, affectionately known as Baby’s Gurgles by the Indigo River Rafter guides. The growl of the water made her senses quicken, as they always did this close to rapids.

Last summer a boy had nearly drowned at Baby’s Gurgles before being pulled from the water by a mysterious savior. Her friend Sara Brenneman had recently confided the modest hero was her fiancé, Michael Donahue, who was also Felicia’s great-nephew. The circumstances on that day, however, had been vastly different, with the water level much higher and the flow substantially quicker.

Dan’s kayak was even with hers. The water’s roar made conversation difficult, so she gestured to him to suggest they veer left and avoid the rapid.

He shook his head, pointing straight ahead to indicate his desire to meet the challenge. His kayak shot in front of hers—not ideal, but not worrisome, either.

This rapid would probably be classified as a III on a scale of I to V, at best moderately difficult given today’s conditions. With the proficiency Dan had already shown at kayaking, he should have no trouble.

The water bubbled around them with more force than Jill had anticipated. She spotted some rocks jutting above the surface and maneuvered her kayak to avoid them. Her boat slid over the water, the sensation not unlike that of the smaller ripples of a roller coaster.

She concentrated on driving her paddle through the water to guide her kayak around the rocks, silently congratulating herself for meeting the challenge. She looked up to check on Dan—and spotted his overturned kayak.

Her heart squeezed and panic clogged her throat. Exiting a kayak while underwater was notoriously difficult. She’d gone over the basics of rolling a kayak, but it was a tricky maneuver.

He could drown.

She thrust her paddle into the water, propelling her boat forward, desperate to reach him. She wasn’t sure if the sting in her eyes was from the water or tears.

Then the overturned kayak rolled, the craft turning upright, the paddle slicing through the water with near-expert precision. She held her breath. Dan’s head popped out of the river, water dripping down his face and torso.

Relief washed over her like white water over rocks, so great she almost didn’t recognize the significance of his whoop.

The sound wasn’t audible over the gurgling white water, but she could read his lips. The man had definitely whooped.

He could be happy to be alive, but she didn’t think that was it. He appeared to be in his element. She’d bet her quick-dry shirt he was also no novice kayaker.

The rest of the trip passed swiftly. She looked for evidence to support her theory, finding it in the ease in which he navigated the next few rapids.

“That was some kayak roll,” Jill remarked after she’d dragged her kayak out of the river at the spot near headquarters where all the Indigo River Rafters trips ended. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a first-timer do one of those.”

Dan paused in the act of tipping his kayak over to empty it of the water that had accumulated during the trip.

“So you noticed I wasn’t a beginner?” He winced. “In my defense, I didn’t say I’d never kayaked before. I’m hardly an expert, either. It’s been years since I’ve done it.”

“And here I thought asking for a lesson was a pretty strong indication you were new to this.” She emptied her own kayak, then set it on dry land. “Why would you mislead me like that?”

He righted his boat, positioned it next to hers, then straightened. His Ohio State baseball cap shielded his eyes from the sun and from her. If she hadn’t been so annoyed, she might have admired how very good he looked in his shorts and T-shirt.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dan asked. “I’m trying to grow on you.”

The water flowed gently here, creating only the softest of rumbles, but she knew she’d heard him correctly.

“Will you sit with me?” He indicated a large flat rock that overlooked the water. They were in sight of the building housing river raft headquarters where either Annie or her father would be getting ready for the day. Very soon, customers would start arriving for the morning trip. For now, though, all was relatively quiet.

She waited until he sat down, then did the same, careful to keep a body length between them. She both wanted to hear what he had to say and didn’t.

“I had to get creative to spend time with you.” He gave her a crooked, endearing grin, and she felt her heartbeat speed up. “I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

Jill stifled the pleasure that threatened to burst forth. “You said you didn’t want to date me.”

“That was before I got to know you,” he said. “The truth is I didn’t want to date anyone after what my fiancée did. But most women aren’t like her. You’re not like her.”

A few years ago, that had been the case. It wasn’t any longer.

She took a deep breath and tried to sound firm. “The answer’s still no.”

He stared at her for a moment, then laid a hand on her cheek. Their gazes snagged as he very slowly and deliberately inched forward, giving her every opportunity to pull back. His lips touched hers in a soft kiss that still managed to send what felt like electricity shooting through her. And then it was over, before it had barely begun. He dropped his hand.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“So you couldn’t deny you were attracted to me.”

She finally broke eye contact and cast about for a truth she could share. “That’s not the point. I meant what I said about this not being a good time for me to start dating. Chris and I, we’re not in Indigo Springs to stay.”

If she got the slightest notion her father’s hired man was close, she’d pack up and not look back. Like Dan’s ex-fiancée, she wouldn’t say goodbye.

“Why?” he asked.

Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the most difficult to answer. She stumbled for a reply.

“I’m a Southerner at heart,” she finally said. “Last winter was pretty rough. I’m not sure I’m up for another cold spell. Like I told you before, Chris hasn’t made a lot of friends here, so it might be a good time to move.”

“Might be? Does that mean you haven’t made up your mind about leaving?”

“I haven’t decided when we’ll leave.” She had little hope that she and Chris could successfully hide out in one place for much longer than they’d already been in Indigo Springs. “It could be very soon.”

There, that sounded reasonably sensible.

“So now you understand why we can’t date,” she finished.

“Can’t say that I do.” He reached out and touched her arm, again managing to stir her with the barest of effort. “I think we should enjoy each other while you’re still in town.”

“But I could be here one day and gone the next,” she said. “Just like your fiancée.”

“You plan to pack up half the furniture in my house and leave town while I’m at work?” Dan’s smile was bemused.

“Well, no,” she said.

“Then why don’t you let me decide what I can handle?”

She scooted backward on the rock so he could no longer touch her. “It’s not only that. It’s what I can handle, too. And I can’t manage a relationship when my future’s so uncertain.”

He stared at her for a long time. She only hoped he wouldn’t kiss her again, because she might let her very valid reason blow away with the warm wind tousling his dark hair.

“I only have one more question,” he said.

She waited, holding her breath.

“When you and Chris leave town, you’re taking those pygmy goats with you, right?”

She laughed, refusing to think about how much harder it was to resist a man with a sense of humor.

The rich, creamy flavor was also possibly the messiest. Chocolate ringed the boy’s mouth, dotted his nose and had dribbled onto his T-shirt.

“Gotta disagree.” Dan held up his own cone. “Pistachio nut can’t be beat.”

“No way!” Chris said.

It was evening, and they were in the downtown park around the corner from the ice cream parlor, sitting atop a picnic table with their feet resting on the bench seat.

Daylight had turned to dusk, which hadn’t cut down on the activity in the park. Small children filled the playground and boys around Chris’s age chased each other around an open field.

“Bart likes butterfinger swirl,” Chris declared between passes at his ice cream cone. “He eats funny. He’s real loud.”

The days had settled into a pattern in the week and a half since Dan had purchased the pygmy goats. Chris stopped by to visit Tinkerbell and Bluebell while Dan was at work and then again after dinner.

Jill didn’t want her brother walking home in the dark by himself, even though it was only a couple of blocks. On the nights she worked at the Blue Haven, Dan accompanied Chris back home.

Tonight Dan had broken the pattern by suggesting they get an ice cream cone in town. One thing hadn’t changed, though: Chris’s references to Bart.

“You and Bart must’ve been pretty good friends,” Dan said.

“Best friends. He’s in fourth grade like me.”

Chris had told him that a couple of times already. He also liked to talk about how much of a pain Bart thought his little sister was, although Dan got the impression Chris had a crush on her.

“It must’ve been tough leaving him behind when you moved,” Dan said.

Chris finished off the last of his ice cream cone, saying nothing. Neither had he mentioned the upcoming move. It made Dan wonder if Jill had even mentioned her plans to her brother. They’d seemed tentative at best. If she hadn’t shared them with Chris, she might be having second thoughts about leaving. He hoped so. All he could do was wait and see.

“When I was about your age, my friend C.J.’s dad got a job out of state and his family moved away,” Dan said. “Worst summer of my life.”

“Didn’t you have anyone else to play with?”

“I didn’t think so at the time,” he said. “There were a couple of boys who lived on a farm nearby. Sometimes I’d see them playing, but I never asked if I could join them.”

“Were you afraid they’d say no?” Chris asked.

“Absolutely. But when school started, one of those boys sat next to me in class. He and I became really tight. The next summer, I practically lived at that farm.”

“There aren’t any farms by our house,” Chris said. “And anyway, I’m homeschooled.”

Thinking back to his own young self, Dan was pretty sure Chris had missed his point deliberately. Like Chris, he’d been undersized, socially awkward and virtually friendless.

Yet the only way he’d reaped the rewards of friendship was by risking rejection. He liked spending time with Chris, but the boy needed to be around other children.

“I’m sure Bart would want you to make new friends.” He nodded toward the boys playing tag in the field. “I bet they’d let you play.”

Chris shook his head. “They’d beat me up if Bart wasn’t with me.”

“Nobody’s going to beat you up,” Dan said. “You’re a likable kid.”

Chris bowed his head. “Arianne says I’m a nerd, and nobody likes a nerd.”

“Who’s Arianne?”

Chris continued to gaze down at his feet. “Nobody.”

Dan understood the boy’s reluctance to tell him about the girl. She sounded like a bully.

“Well, Arianne’s wrong,” Dan said, “because I like you a lot.”

Chris’s head rose. “Really?”

“Really.” Dan hopped down from the picnic table. “Ready to go?”

Shouts of laughter erupted from the field. “I caught you!” a boy wearing a red T-shirt yelled in a high-pitched voice. “Now you’re it.”

Chris looked longingly at the boys, then slowly got down from the picnic table. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The boy obviously wasn’t ready to risk rejection in an attempt to make friends. It might be years before he felt comfortable doing that, if ever.

What he needed was some help, and Dan had a great idea that would give him a subtle shove in the right direction.

All he needed was Jill’s permission.