For a while.
“Don’t ever let yourself love, Sam
.
Just soon as you do, they leaveyou.”
All good things came to an end, especially love. And when it did, it left a shattered shell. What would become of her if she let herself love him?
It’s too late for that.
It was too late to stop the feelings, but she could stand guard from this point on. She would leave tomorrow and take her broken heart home to mend. It was the only choice she had.
“Marry me, Sam. Stay here and marry me.”
Her heart tripped over itself, then raced ahead, leaving her lungs to catch up. She looked away.
“No.” She pushed the words past her dry throat. Why couldn’t he understand it could never be? She had to leave. Her survival depended on it. She pulled her hands from him, but her gaze swung back to his of their own accord.
He blinked back tears. “Sam . . . I—”
She steeled her heart against him. “You shouldn’t have come back.” It was his fault. If he’d just stayed away like she asked.
“How can I let you go again? I love you.” Hurt glittered in his eyes. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“If it’s too much to handle, just leave.”
Like Mom. Like Dad. Likeeveryone else.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You keep pushing and pushing, and it would make it easier if I just left, wouldn’t it?”
Yes, it would make it easier. “
Love never brings anything but pain.It’s the one thing in life you can count on.”
His eyes impaled hers, and his voice was heavy. “You don’t see me leaving, do you? I’m standing right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s only words, Sam. Don’t buy in. He means them now, but hedoesn’t know the future. No one does.
His fingers touched her cheek, softly, as if tracing the delicate petal of a rose.
Sam flinched.
One corner of his lips twisted up in a wan smile. He let his hand fall. “The only thing I’ve done is love you, and you don’t want me to do that. I wish I had the key to that heavy door you keep on your heart.”
The back door opened, and Sam startled.
Caden saw them and came to an abrupt halt, her hands still on the doorknob. She looked between the two of them, and Sam imagined what she saw. Landon’s strained face and glassy eyes. She could only guess at her own expression.
“What’s wrong?”
There wasn’t enough time in the day to answer that one.
Landon backed away from Sam and combed his fingers through his hair. “Nothing.” He attempted a smile, but Sam could see right through it. No doubt, Caden could too. “Your mom and I were just talking. Let’s go see what’s next on our list. Maybe you can help me.” He tousled her hair as he passed her, but the look she gave Sam told her everything she already knew. Caden knew they’d been arguing, and as usual, all the blame was at Sam’s feet.
S
am tossed her paper plate into the garbage can, listening to the sound of Landon’s keys jangling in his hands as he left the house. He’d offered to run to the store with her list of last-minute items they needed for the house. With any luck, he’d be gone awhile. The tension between them through the afternoon had been nearly unbearable, and Caden’s moodiness didn’t help.
The work on the house was done, but there was no time to stand around and appreciate their efforts. She had to make some phone calls and pack their things. In the morning, she would clean the house, and they would be on the noon ferry.
Caden changed into her swimming suit for one last swim while Sam called Patty and left a message assuring her she’d be at work on Monday. When she hung up, she went to the bedroom and pulled out their suitcases.
Caden stood at the bureau mirror, tucking her blond hair into the orange swim cap.
“You’ll have to wait until I finish packing to get in the water,” Sam said.
Her daughter hadn’t spoken to her all afternoon, and Sam wondered when she was going to unload. She always did eventually, and Sam didn’t have the strength to deal with another confrontation today. She should feel relieved that the house was done, that they were going home, but all she felt was a strange regret.
“Why do we have to go, Mom?” Caden asked, her lips turned down at the corners. With her hair in the cap, her brown eyes stood out. They looked sadder than Sam had ever seen them.
“You know I have to be at work Monday. Besides, gymnastics is on Tuesday, and you’ll get to see Bridget and your other friends.”
“But what about Landon and Max?”
Sam set a stack of shorts in the suitcase and straightened. “What about them?”
“Am I ever going to see them again?” Her voice rose. She crossed her arms and set her mouth in a straight line. “I don’t want to go back.”
Sam gave a wry smile. “You didn’t want to come here, either.”
“Well, I like it now. I want to stay.”
Sam raised her voice. “And do what? My job is in Boston.”
“You can get a job here.”
Life from a child’s perspective was always so simple. “You don’t understand, Caden. It’s expensive to live in Nantucket.” Too costly, in more ways than one.
“We already have a house here.”
Sam could see she needed to find another line of reasoning. “What about school? What about gymnastics? We have a whole life in Boston.”
An empty life
. She pushed the thought away and sought to appease Caden. “Maybe we can come back and visit.”
“I want to
live
here. With Landon and Max.” Her eyes filled, tears trembling on her lower lashes.
Sam turned and gathered a bundle of socks. She knew what Caden was feeling. A part of her wished they could stay too. The negative memories from her childhood had begun to dissipate as they finished the house. The cottage didn’t look or smell the same. She had begun to expect Caden’s face instead of Emmett’s when she woke in the morning.
But Landon was here, and she didn’t have the courage or strength to see him every day.
Sam turned to Caden, softening as she watched her chin wobble. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m sorry, honey. We have to go back home. I know you don’t understand—”
“I do too! I understand that you don’t care about anyone but yourself!”
She turned to go, but Sam caught her arm. “That’s not true. Why do you think we came here, Caden? Do you think it was easy for me? The sale of this house will fund your future; that’s the only reason I came back. You’ll be able to go to any college you want, be anything you want to be. Do you know what that’s worth? I didn’t get that chance. Do you want to grow up and clean offices like me?”
Caden jerked her arm from Sam’s grasp. “I don’t want to be like you at all.” Turning, she strode through the living room and out the door, slamming it.
Caden’s words penetrated Sam’s hard shell, exactly as intended. Sam walked to the living room window and watched her daughter march down the slope of the backyard toward the water, her slim shoulders squared. When she stepped onto the pier instead of getting in the water, Sam relaxed. At least she was obeying the rules.
Sam turned back to the chest and grabbed an armload of shorts, then dropped them into the suitcase. The house was still, and the emptiness of it felt heavy and oppressing. She had managed to chase away Landon and Caden yet again.
Miss Biddle’s words invaded her mind like ants at a beach picnic. “
Here I am, all these years later, heart intact. But lonely. I’d trade all thehurts I may have had for one true love at my side.”
Sam wondered if she would grow into a lonely old spinster who dispensed advice to likenesses of her former self.
Stop it, Sam. Don’t think; just survive.
She shut the chest of drawers with her hip and pushed the last of her clothes into the bag, then pulled the zipper. She carried the heavy duffel to the living room and set it by the front door. She walked to the back window and peered out, checking on Caden. She’d gotten the beach ball from the shed and sat on the pier, holding it in her lap, her chin resting on its surface. Sam wondered what her daughter was thinking, then decided she didn’t want to know.
The toiletries and remaining groceries needed to be packed away. She would see if Miss Biddle wanted what was left of the food.
Sam packed Caden’s belongings, setting out her nightgown and clothes for the morning. Then she packed their toiletries, leaving out the things they still needed. When her thoughts turned to Landon, she told herself she’d deal with those later when she was far away. Still, the ache inside her refused to budge. Maybe she’d just shove it down deep where all the other hurt was.
She set Caden’s bag by the dresser, leaving the toiletry case in the bathroom, and headed to the kitchen. The fridge was almost empty. She bagged the condiments and leftover lunch meat and set them back in the fridge until morning. She loaded dry goods into the cabinets, leaving out a box of cereal and utensils for breakfast.
Sam wanted to get a start on the cleaning, but the clock on the wall told her the sun would be setting soon, and she’d promised Caden one last swim. She slid on her flip-flops and left the house. When she looked toward the pier, she found it empty. She let the screen door slap into place and walked through the fresh-cut grass, her eyes roving the waterline through the trees from her backyard down to Landon’s.
“Caden.” She called her daughter’s name over a gust of wind and the sound of water rushing the shoreline. When there was no answer, she wondered if Caden had gone off on her bike without asking. But when she turned back to the house, she saw it leaning cockeyed on its kickstand next to Sam’s.
“Caden!” Sam raised her voice to encompass the nearby yards. Her daughter’s last words echoed in Sam’s mind, underscoring Caden’s state of mind. Sam’s legs carried her quickly down the slope of the shoreline and to the pier, her heart tripping in her chest. Her feet took the planks of the pier quickly, thudding along its length. She looked down toward Landon’s pier, where Caden liked to swim because of the sandy bottom.
“Caden!” she called again, lifting her hand to block the light of the setting sun. Above the whoosh of the wind whipping around her ears, she heard a voice. She scanned the water, moving from the shore to farther out to sea.
Sam saw the beach ball first, a small dot on the surface of the water. Then she saw Caden’s orange swim cap bobbing next to it. Her daughter waved frantically.
Sam’s heart leaped up into her throat and stuck. She dove into the water, then kicked furiously to reach the surface. Her arms worked to propel her through the water.
Caden! Hang on, honey!
She was at least fifty yards out. A riptide must have caught her. Sam knew the strength of the undertow. She’d experienced the panic of being caught in one, but she was older than Caden then and knew what to do. Every summer it happened on the island. Some were lucky enough to be rescued; others were featured in the obituary column a few days later.
Sam pulled her head from the water and located Caden, then redoubled her efforts.
Please, God, let me get to her!
Her muscles worked hard, driving her as fast as they could through the cold water.
Sam gulped in air, then turned her head down, taking in salt water. She lifted her face, sputtering, then stopped long enough to find Caden. Sam saw the beach ball, floating farther to the east than Caden had been swimming, but where was her daughter?
There. She flailed several yards from the ball. How long could Caden stay afloat without it? Alarm rippled through Sam.
“Mommy!” Her plea was a watery gasp.
“I’m coming!” She kicked forward, panic pushing her faster than before.
Oh, God, let her be okay! Don’t let her drown!
Periodically, Caden’s cries penetrated the water in her ears, reassuring her.
Sam lifted her head and saw her daughter only a few yards away. She closed the distance and reached for Caden.
Her daughter’s flailing arms seized onto hers. “Mommy!” She clutched at Sam, her weight sinking them both. Sam kicked to stay buoyant.
“Caden. It’s okay, baby,” she gasped. “It’s okay.”
Caden’s skinny arms were around her, her head turned up to avoid the water. She clawed at Sam’s shoulders.
“Calm down, Caden.” Her own breathing was labored, her legs fatigued. She looked toward shore. It seemed a hundred miles away and growing farther by the minute. The ball bobbed away toward the horizon.
Caden’s sobs pierced Sam’s thoughts. The girl’s fingers pressed down on Sam’s shoulders, boosting her body out of the water. Sam kicked harder. “Honey, you have to calm down.”
Her daughter’s breaths were so rapid, Sam feared she would hyperventilate. She took Caden’s face in her hands and leaned back, forcing eye contact. Panic laced Caden’s eyes, and fear shadowed her face.
“Caden, listen,” Sam said firmly. “You have to calm down, or you’re going to drown us both.”
“Help, Mommy!”
“I am, but you have to—” A cold swell slapped Sam on the side of her face. She coughed, clearing her lungs. “You have to settle down, understand? It’s going to be okay.”
“I lost the ball . . .” she wailed.
“I’m here now; you’re going to be okay.” Caden’s weight pushed her down, and Sam kicked again. Her ankle throbbed, but it was the least of her worries.
Water lapped up toward Caden’s shoulders, and Sam watched a shiver of alarm run across her face. There was no chance of getting her to float on her back. And Sam wouldn’t be able to support her daughter’s weight on her body. She was too tired to stay afloat much longer. Why hadn’t she grabbed a life preserver from the shed? But all she’d thought about was getting to Caden.
“Remember—” Sam gulped in a breath. “Remember what I told you about riptides? How they run along the shore?”
“I’m scared!”
Sam squeezed her face, her fingers making dimples in Caden’s cheeks. “Listen to me, Caden! We need to swim along the shore to the end of the riptide.” She sucked in a few breaths. “I’m going to get us to shore, but I need your help.”
Caden’s body shook, and tears poured down her face.