Dave whipped the boat around.
No blond head bobbed up shaking the fall off and no hands clasped over head or goofy wave okay.
“Oh, shit!”
Mark floated on his back. Moving sluggishly, but moving. Thank you, God.
Dave got them there fast, cut the speed and slewed around, coming up slow and neat.
“Take the wheel!” Dave was already out of his seat.
Mark was coughing his lungs out, not even trying to swim. No, not okay.
Dave jumped overboard and swam to him. Nate waited.
“Mark.” Dave caught hold of Mark’s vest. “You okay?
Mark coughed more and opened his eyes. “That totally sucked, dudes,” he croaked and lifted his head.
“Yeah. Lie still for a minute. I got you.”
“How’s water so damn hard?” Mark coughed harshly again and relaxed into Dave’s grip.
“Anything hurt? Open your eyes and look at me.”
Mark coughed and choked out a laugh. “My pride.”
“Seriously, funny guy, you hit hard. What’s hurting?”
“Nah, nothing really. A little dizzy. Swallowed the whole damn lake though.”
Nate brought the boat in close, and Dave helped Mark up the steps.
Mark collapsed on the bench. “I’m okay,” he wheezed.
Dave grinned, but his eyes were all business. “Sure you are. Just let me give you another look-see.” While Dave gave Mark a good checking over, Nate gathered in the rope, caught the ski, and took them into the camp. Mark had his breath back by the time they arrived, and most of the wobbles were gone when Dave and Nate helped him over the side and up to the beach.
Dave put Mark in the hands of Olivia and the other women and let them fuss. Olivia agreed, Mark was fine, just shaken up and the wind knocked out. He was already cracking jokes and soaking up the feminine fussing.
Since the earlier aspirin had proved useless, it was now time to try the hair of the dog. Nate grabbed a beer, and struggled to focus on packing the last of his things.
Stay.
Yeah, and keep getting his heart handed back to him? Time to cut his losses. Better to have loved and lost and all that shit, right?
No. Frankly, loving and losing totally sucked.
He’d worry about what to do with the house later. Maybe the place wouldn’t be too haunted by dashed dreams,
if onlys
and
might have beens
. The can crinkled under his grip. Shit. Wasn’t as if Kay had lived there with him.
He’d be too busy anyway. Feet on the road, eye to the camera like always. The house was just another place to stash his clothes and equipment now.
The real estate agent had raved about the possibilities for the house as a great investment property. He hadn’t moved all his crap out of the apartment on Oahu yet. Maybe he’d cancel the movers, e-mail the agent and tell her to find him a renovation contractor and a tenant.
At least he hadn’t said anything to his family about buying the house for Kay. Was that proof he hadn’t believed firmly enough? That he’d always secretly known she would never love him the way he loved her?
Rounding up his odds and ends of fishing and ski equipment took no time. He downed the beer and set the empty can aside. He felt like he was riding rapids, headed inexorably toward a waterfall. That same out of control dread. Same helplessness.
So stay.
He made the blurred rounds of last goodbyes and well wishes. He ignored Dave’s and JoAnn’s pointed glares and Lloyd’s questioning shrug.
Done. He slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up his vest and ski.
Kay’s gaze caught with his. This time her stricken blue eyes would not move him.
Stay and work it out.
No. Way. No. How.
I’m out of here.
Her shoulders sagged.
He was out of time, and he just couldn’t do this any longer.
****
Nate said his goodbyes to their friends, his voice cheerful and full of enthusiasm, just like any other leaving day.
His hollow eyes were not.
Each step back to Skunk Beach gave Kay one less step of time to fix everything. One less step of time to figure herself out. Her throat was one tight ache and her head throbbed. The heat and glare hurt. She wanted to crawl into her tent and hide.
Back at camp, Nate emptied his pockets of keys and the usual odds and ends, tossed his hat and sunglasses on the table, and changed into a fresh T-shirt and shorts.
Kay pulled out a bottle of water from the cooler and took two aspirin.
He studied her with an odd wrinkle between his brows.
Maybe this all would have been easier if he’d stormed off in a cursing huff like R.J., but he was Nate, and that wasn’t Nate’s way.
Maybe if they had thrown a few things, broken something, screamed at one another like her parents.
Kay searched herself, digging to find that spark of passion, that rage of love so all-consuming in her family, to start something, but ranting and raving wasn’t her way, and she found none of that crazed passion or anger, only pain and confusion.
See, you do know him. Tell him. Tell him why. Let him fix it. You’re an idiot, Kay. Make it work, like JoAnn said. There’s got to be a way.
But the words jammed in Kay’s throat as she gave him the watercolor of Skunk Beach. She loved that painting, but she couldn’t bear to look at it again.
He set it carefully onboard the Whisper. “I’ll send you the first copy of the Down Under book.”
Nate loaded his last bag into the boat and waded back. He stood by her table, hands clenched in his pockets. “I think that’s everything.” He wore those damned mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes.
“Looks like you’re good to go.” Her camp was neat and tidy again. Just his fishing hat and keys remained. She’d have plenty of peace to get back on her painting schedule.
Nate scooped his hat and keys off the table and turned. He quirked a smile, warm, but sad. He walked toward her, stopped, stroked his hand over her cheek and touched a chaste kiss to her lips. “Be good. I’ll call you.”
He settled his hat on his head, pulled the beach anchor and wound the rope as he waded toward the Whisper.
“I—I won’t be home until the eleventh or so.” This was for the best. She’d made the correct decision. He needed to be free. This was the only choice for his career. She was not her mother. Would not be her mother.
Never
. No matter the pain. Better to hurt a little now, than for both of them to be in utter misery later. Right?
“I remember. You told me. You’ll write?”
“Yes.” The simple exchange of words was casual, exactly like every other year. Except this time, he kept his back to her, and each word felt like a lead sinker dropped into the lake without lines.
“I’ll keep everyone posted by e-mail.” The rope was completely coiled. Nate pushed the boat out and clambered aboard. “See you next year. We’ll keep it just the same. Mohave in July, like always.”
“Yes, the same. Take care.” Her voice came stiff and far too earnest.
A cold weight filled the pit of her belly as if she was seeing his back for the last time.
Nate raised the sails. The hot breeze gently filled the bright canvas and sent the Whisper gliding off.
Kay turned away, unable to watch him disappear. She had done the right thing. Nate needed to be able to come and go and travel the world without a neurotic, jealous woman fretting over what he was up to on his travels. He needed to focus on the brilliant upswing of his career.
And she needed to focus on her career. She sold desert paintings. Watercolors of rocks. She was a one-trick pony. She wouldn’t be left alone and miserable in a place she didn’t understand, making him miserable.
She faced her tidy camp and the soothing earth tones of her belongings.
No, you’re going to be alone and miserable in a place haunted by the past because you are a gutless wonder and unwilling to compromise and change, just like your parents. At least your mother fought for what she wanted.
Mother had fought, and lost. Kay had not fought, and lost. No answer there.
The calm of her empty camp should have pleased her. Hadn’t she longed for her quiet?
Too quiet. Too empty. Her table empty of his camera equipment. His beach chair gone. His gaudy swim trunks and T-shirts gone from the drying line. His goofy hat gone. His rock collection gone. All the cheery splashes of his life, gone.
Nate was gone.
Her belongings all waited in quiet order.
She had ruined everything. He wouldn’t come back next year. Ever. Her perfectly sterile camp blurred. She blinked hard, blaming the dry breeze.
No pining. Pining fixes nothing. Remember?
The next moment she was ripping the towel from the ice chest and she hurled it blindly, a sob cracking from her throat.
Tears stung her eyes, blurred. The flung towel hung like a fallen white flag, caught on the chair arm and table. Something glinted on the table. He’d left one of his silly rocks. Tears spilled in earnest.
She wasn’t pining.
This was her heart waking and breaking.
Kay walked over to the table, scrubbing at the tears blurring her vision. She blinked hard again. The object sparkling on her table wasn’t a sand-polished shard of glass or a pebble of quartz he’d left behind.
He’d left the ring.
Chapter Fifteen
Kay stared in disbelief. He’d left her the ring. Why?
Why? Because he’s Nate and he loves you. Because he knew you loved the ring.
The tears she’d promised herself years ago she would never cry over any man flooded even harder.
He loved her, like no one had ever loved her, and she had let him go one time too many. She’d seen that in his eyes. He’d given up, and it was all her fault.
He’d sworn never to hurt her.
Her heartbeat pounded in her head and she couldn’t catch her breath. But she’d hurt him. Knowingly. Because she was a coward.
She needed…She couldn’t—Why couldn’t she share her heart? Why the hell did she keep denying her feelings? This was a lousy way to maintain control of her life. She didn’t want him to leave her. That wasn’t being jealous or selfish. It was a simple truth. She wanted him. She needed him. She…
What had Nate said?
With life, if you don’t go with the changes or take the risks, it isn’t life at all.
She’d been so determined not to live her parents’ lives that she hadn’t lived her own.
She stared at the beautiful opal on the table, the rich blue and green sparks and the twinkling diamonds, the graceful curves of white gold. Nate’s face filled her mind, his sweet smile and gray eyes sparkling with hope and enthusiasm for loving as he’d asked her to be his.
He laid his heart on the line for you. Isn’t it about time for you to take a risk for a change?
If she could only catch him to explain. If she only—If she ran fast to the point, if he hugged the shore, he might hear her from there.
She swallowed hard against the lump from her throat. What was the worst thing that could happen? Nothing now. It already had.
She snatched up the ring and bolted scrambling up the slope and along the zigzagging trail to the long spur of Raven Point. The wind picked up, whipping her with a parching, taunting gust, snapping at her hair and shirt.
Oh, please. Wind, go away. She’d never catch him. She had to.
Kay ran faster, dodging cholla and prickly pear, the rocks and rises and hollows that threatened to trip her, her soles sliding in patches of scree. Mirages wavered above the burnt saffron and tan landscape. The spindly creosotes and brittlebushes danced in the painful glare. The hot air rasped in her tight throat. Something grabbed her shirttail, tried to spin and halt her, a ripping moment, and then free again, she caught back her stride.
The insanity of love had her. She’d fallen and was losing—make that had lost—her mind and heart over a man just as she swore she never would.
And she was okay with that.
All that practice she’d toyed with, every whispered
I love you
she’d let out in private, they were nothing compared to the realization piling the real words in her throat.
“Nate!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she raced along the narrow trail, ignoring the pain in her bruised knees and the stones slithering under her sneakers. For the first time she cursed the lack of cell service in the area. Those ugly, invasive towers could have brought him back to her. “Nate!”
She loved him. It was the truth, plain as the baked rocks. He was her water, giving her life in her desert. This thing they had wasn’t habit. This wasn’t simple friendship. She gave up. She gave in. Love.
She loved him. Oh, Lord, help her. She did.