“I’m sorry, Mom.” A tear ran across her face and down into her pillow.
“Shhh. It was an accident.” Caden had explained as Landon carried her home that the ball blew off the pier. She jumped in to retrieve it, but the ball moved a little farther away, and before she knew it, she was being pulled off her feet. It was a miracle she was able to get to the ball, or she never would have made it until Sam saw her.
“Not that,” Caden said, turning toward Sam. “I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. Sorry about what I said to you today.” Her face crumpled.
Sam sank onto the bed, reaching for her, and Caden came into her arms. Her skin smelled like the generic raspberry soap Sam had bought at the Stop & Shop, but her hair still held the scent of salt water. “It’s okay,” Sam whispered.
She’d take Caden any way she could get her. Her daughter could fight with her, give her attitude, and tell her she hated her if she wanted. It was enough that Sam could feel the smoothness of her skin, could feel the weight of Caden against her.
She tightened her arms around her daughter and felt the dampness of Caden’s tears through the oversized T-shirt. “I love you so much, baby.” When was the last time she’d said the words? When was the last time she’d held Caden?
Why, Sam? Why has it been so long?
The answer had been deep down in the place where she hid her pain. It rose to the surface while they were on the water, when the fear of losing Caden hit her full force, like a rogue wave.
But the fact was, the shadow of that wave had been towering over her a long time. The fear that she might lose Caden. That it was dangerous to love her too much. Because one day Caden might not be there to love. And what would become of Sam then?
Caden’s arms loosened, flopping to the bed, and she fell back against the pillow. “I’m so tired.”
Sam ran her palm across Caden’s cheek, drying the tears, and brushed the wet strands from her face. “I know. We’ll talk in the morning.”
The morning. When they would leave. The past two hours had been like a bubble of time suspended outside of reality. What had happened on the water held significance, and Sam knew Landon’s rescue affected much more than their survival. She just wasn’t sure what.
She stood, her legs wobbly from fatigue, and pulled the quilt to Caden’s chin. Sam flipped off the bedside lamp, and darkness washed the room.
“Mom?” Alarm laced the word. “Will you stay with me?”
Sam sensed Caden’s hand fumbling for her through the darkness. She’d planned on a warm bath and a shampoo to rid the smell of ocean from her hair.
It could wait until morning. “Sure.” She walked around the bed and got in, pulling Caden close, her back spooned into Sam’s stomach.
“’Night,” Caden whispered.
“Good night, Caden.” Sam nuzzled the top of her daughter’s head with her chin and tucked her knees up inside of hers. In that moment, she remembered something. Sam had been six and came home from kindergarten sick. Her mom tucked her into bed and lay down with her. Sam remembered her mother’s warmth against her back, the security of her closeness. Sam didn’t know what had happened to change her mom; maybe her dad’s death was to blame. But her mom had loved her in her own way.
Had Sam done any better? She had stayed with Caden, present in body but absent in spirit. In her own way, she had abandoned her daughter too. Emotionally, she’d been absent since the day Caden was born. Her soul grieved at the realization. So much time lost. How many regrets would she have had if today was her last day? If it was their last day? Caden never would have experienced being fully loved. Sam had told Landon her glass was empty, but Caden’s needed filling now.
Her arms tightened around Caden, holding her daughter snuggly against her chest. Tomorrow was a new day, and change was possible. She had a second chance to be the kind of mother she wanted to be.
Sam’s eyes stung, a foreign sensation.
Nothing will stop me fromloving you, baby. You’ll see.
She closed her eyes and drew in fresh oxygen, appreciating that simple act as she never had. How terrible it was to struggle for breath. To take a gulp of air, not knowing if it was your last. She thought of Bailey and hoped he hadn’t suffered that night. She hoped he’d been unconscious and unaware when he slipped into the water.
Sam’s mind spun back hours before to when she spotted Landon on the water. She thought she was seeing things, but he was there. Like always, he was there. Her salvation. Just when she thought it was too late, that they were going under for the last time, he scooped them up and saved them.
Had she even thanked him? If not for him, they would be dead. The thought made her shudder. They owed him their lives, and she hadn’t even thanked him. A knot clogged her throat. She’d been so mean to him, pushing him away, hurting him, and still, he stayed close.
Sam shifted her aching ankle slowly, trying not to disturb Caden. Her daughter didn’t budge as she moved, so Sam turned onto her back, her muscles protesting. She was going to be a mess in the morning. She’d probably set her ankle back three days, and she wondered if she’d be able to work come Monday. She didn’t want to think about Monday, or even tomorrow.
Outside, a loon called, joining nature’s orchestra. She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. Caden’s form was still, and Sam knew she was sleeping by the steady sound of her deep breath.
Although her own body was limp with fatigue, her mind whirled like the relentless wind. The night song outside her window beckoned her. She slid from under the covers, moving slowly and quietly. When her weight left the mattress, she checked Caden. As tired as her daughter was, she’d sleep soundly and until late in the morning.
The wood floor was cold against her bare feet, and bits of dried sand stuck to her heels as she limped through the living room. She unlocked the back door and stepped onto the porch, leaving the door open so she could hear if Caden called.
The night smelled like roses and salt and fresh grass. The loon called again over the buzz of insects, and a wave washed the shoreline as if trying to shush the creatures.
The wind whispered through the screen, drawing her skin into gooseflesh. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared into the darkness of the night. A thin veil of clouds shrouded the moon, dimming its light.
Sam looked toward the east, two doors down where Landon lived.
Landon. As sure and steady as the tide. He’d been there when others abandoned her, he’d been there after she hurt him, he’d been there when she needed him most.
And you didn’t even say thank you.
Sam’s feet urged her in that direction. She had so much to say.
But it was late and his lights were off. Besides, she didn’t want to wander so far from Caden. She turned and hobbled toward the nearest chair.
A distinct sound reached her ears, cutting through the nocturnal noises. A quiet thud, like something hitting wood.
She walked to the screen door and opened it, then set it gently back in place. Her tired legs wobbled as she took the porch steps. The grass was soft and cool against her feet, tickling her bare toes with their fringe.
The thud sounded again, and she followed the echo down the slope of the yard, listening through the lullaby of the water stroking the shoreline. The wind lifted her hair from her shoulders and made the hardware on Miss Biddle’s flag ping softly, a cymbal for the night song.
Sam stopped at the water’s edge, listening. The sound she heard had ceased, but a shadowy movement down the pier caught her eye. She stepped up onto the boards, her eyes fixed on its end, squinting through the darkness.
Her feet carried her down the pier’s wooden length. Halfway there, she recognized the shadow as a person. Another two steps and she saw the form was lying down, hands clasped behind the head, feet hanging over the end.
Landon. Her racing heart flipped over at the sight. For a moment, she wondered if she’d conjured him up out of need. But when she blinked, he was still there.
Not wanting to startle him, she whispered his name as she approached.
At the sound, he jerked upright and turned toward her. “Sam.”
She limped down the pier and lowered herself beside him, easing her sore ankle over the side.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
She tucked her long shirt under her and settled her hands in her lap. “I’m not tired.” The sounds of the night, the feel of Landon beside her began to soothe her mind.
“How’s Caden?”
Changed. Just like Sam. “Sleeping soundly.” A breeze blew across the bay, carrying the scent of his musky soap. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Then, as if realizing he hadn’t answered her question, he added, “I wanted to be closer.”
Sam looked at him then. The heat from his eyes warmed her all over. “I never said thank you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have—”
“You risked your life for us. Without a thought of your own fears.”
“I did what anyone would have done, Sam.”
“Shut up and let me say thank you.”
The corner of his lip tipped up, but he remained quiet.
Words would never be enough to express how truly grateful she was. Still, she said them. “Thank you.” The moon’s curtain must have lifted, because light played on the ridges of his face. “You’re supposed to say, ‘You’re welcome.’”
His eyes roved over her face. “You’re welcome.”
Sam’s hands trembled as if it were their first date. But they’d never even had a first date. She felt her lips twitch and turned away, looking out toward the horizon where the dark sky met the black sea.
“What?” he asked.
She looked at him, then lifted her palms, gesturing around them. “This. Us. How many times do you suppose we’ve sat here on this pier?” A seagull, out past its bedtime, called out, its shriek echoing across the water.
“Dozens. Hundreds.” He smiled as if remembering.
They’d grown up out here on the bay. It had been her escape.
He
had been her escape. And then she’d left him, left the island, without leaving word for him. And when she came back, she did nothing but hurt him more.
Sam thought of Bailey and how her mistake had cost him his life. Had robbed Landon of his brother. Regret swelled in her, almost unbearable. If only she could go back and do the night over again. “I’m so sorry about Bailey.”
He squeezed her hand. “You already apologized,” he said softly.
Her eyes burned. “Is that enough?” It didn’t feel like enough. Not even close.
He touched her chin with his fingertips. “It is for me.”
All her mistakes oozed like sewage into her mind. Her silence after Bailey’s death, her dalliance with Tully, the way she’d told Landon about Bailey only to push him away. The shame of it made her skin heat. How could he forget what she’d done?
“I’ve hurt you so much.” And all he’d done was love her back. “But I intend to make it up to you.” She let her face betray her feelings. She couldn’t have stopped it if she tried.
“You already have.”
The love she saw in his face gave her every assurance she needed to take it one step further. “Do you think I could change my mind about that question you asked before?” Her courage scattered like grains of sand in a storm.
The corners of his lips tilted. “It’s a woman’s privilege.”
Sam touched the crest of his cheek, then traced the edges of his jawline to the cleft in his chin. His skin was warm and rough against her fingers. She felt a stirring inside for more. More than just a whisper of a touch. Much more.
He leaned close, and his mouth closed over hers. Sam’s skin blazed, burning all the way to her heart, where Landon now resided. What had she done to deserve this man? His claim came back to her. “
Love isn’t earned, Sam. It’s a gift.
”
A gift she would accept. She’d be foolish not to. She let her lips linger on his until he pulled away, but only so he could hold her. Sam wrapped her arms around his back and nestled against his chest. His shirt smelled like sunshine and fresh air, and the tenderness of his hand against her face made her feel cherished.
I could stayhere forever.
She felt his chest expand then deflate with his breath.
“It’s not so bad here, is it, Sam? The cobblestone streets, the warm breeze, the smell of the ocean . . .”
She listened to the steady beating of his heart, felt the warmth of his flesh against hers, and closed her eyes on a sigh. “No, it’s not so bad.”
His fingers threaded through her hair. “I’d follow you to Boston if you wanted.”
Sam smiled against his shirt. “No.” She still had work to do, coming to grips with her past. But it was something she needed to face for her own good. And Caden’s. Where better to do it than here? With Landon at her side.
For a moment, fear crept in and rattled her. Sam grasped the material of his shirt, and she pulled herself close to him. “I’m still afraid,” she admitted quietly. “Just so you know.”
He tightened his arms around her, the strength of them making her feel safe. “It’s okay to be afraid,” he said. His hand pressed her cheek, holding her against his heart. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Sam.”
His words seeped into the empty space and remained there. It was a start. “I love you too,” she whispered, relaxing in his arms, choosing to believe, choosing to surrender. One moment at a time.
1. From the beginning of the story (and even before that), Sam pushes Landon away because she is afraid to love. What are some of the things Sam does to keep Landon at a distance? What are some of the things people do to push God away?
2. What are some of the things Landon endures in his efforts to pursue Sam? How has God pursued you?
3. Sam’s abandonment and the difficulties of her childhood caused her to make decisions that caused others pain. Do you live with regrets related to things you have done? Things that have been done to you? How have these things impacted your relationships? How can you break the cycle?
4. Sam was willing to settle for much less than Landon had to offer. What are some of the things we settle for? Why are we often willing to accept so much less than God wants to give us?