Hope returned to Scarlet with a vengeance, but practicalities still got in the way. "I can't do the public thing unless John and I have a future together. A long future."
"So find that out first and go from there."
"I can't believe how generous you're being. If the situation were reversed-"
"You would do the same thing."
Scarlet put a tentative hand on her sister's shoulder. "It was so hard keeping this a secret from you."
"Don't do it again." Summer's eyes welled. "I know a lot has changed for us, but nothing can destroy our bond unless we let it. Regardless, Zeke is a part of my life now."
"I know that, Summer. I do. I think I felt left behind. Maybe a little jealous. You were so in love and so happy. And I envied you leaving your job, even if it was only for a month. It was only for a month, right?"
"I don't know yet. I doubt it, though. I'm finally going to do it, Scar. I'm going to make a career as a photographer."
There were no more questions, no more revelations. They went into each other's arms and held tight.
"I love you so-"
"I love you more than-"
They laughed shakily.
"So, why don't you show me your design for my wedding dress," Summer said after wiping Scarlet's tears away.
"Have you set a date?"
"We're talking about one. But I'm willing to wait until it can be a double wedding."
More hope wove its way through Scarlet. A different kind of hope. One with John as the focus. "You'll want the big, splashy wedding, Summer. I won't."
"Yes, you will." Summer's smile was all-knowing.
"It's never been my dream."
"Until you fell in love." She hugged Scarlet. "Show me my dress. And yours."
She found the sketch of Summer's dress and brought it out to her. Scarlet didn't want to jinx anything by pulling out the sketch of her own dress-the waddedup paper she'd rescued from her trash can at work with her impetuous design. She hadn't redrawn it on clean paper. Nothing was certain yet.
"Oh!" Summer traced the lines of the gown with her fingertips as if the fabric were in her hands. "It's exquisite. And exactly what I want."
"I know."
Summer shoved her, and they laughed.
"I'll hire someone to sew on the beads and crystals, but I want to make it for you," Scarlet said.
Summer nodded, tears in her eyes. She grabbed Scarlet in another big hug.
"Can you stay tonight?" Scarlet asked.
"Don't you want to go see John?"
"Not tonight. Tonight I want to be with you." She stepped back and smiled. "And sleep."
"I'll call Zeke and let him know."
Scarlet wondered if they would ever have another night like this, just the two of them. Probably not.
The thought colored the rest of the evening, giving everything they said and did a bittersweet edge. Who could have predicted they would undergo so many changes in just a couple of months?
Where would they be a year from now? Would they even be in the same country? When Summer and Zeke decided to have children, would Scarlet even get to know them or would they always be on the road?
She pictured her sister pregnant, smiling serenely. Summer would take motherhood in stride.
As for herself, Scarlet couldn't bring up the picture as readily. Maybe because her future wasn't as settled as Summer's.
But that was all about to change.
Fifteen
T he Elliott helicopter swooped over The Tides, preparing to land. Scarlet took in the vista from above-the enormous turn-of-the-century home rising near a bluff overlooking the ever-changing Atlantic. The elegant circular drive, so often filled with cars. Her grandmother's glorious rose garden and perfectly manicured lawn, fragrant and inviting. Many a game of hide-andgo-seek had been played in that garden and countless touch football games on the lawn.
Hand-carved stone stairs led down the bluff to a private beach where Scarlet and Summer had whiled away warm July days and hotAugust nights as they talked about boys and life and their parents, desperately trying to keep them alive as their memories threatened to fade.
Scarlet's relationship with The Tides was complicated. A haven but occasionally a jail. Gram the peacekeeper; Granddad the warden. Summer the diplomat, and Scarlet the rebel … until this past year, when she'd stopped waging war with her grandfather. It had felt good, too. Incredibly good.
She gathered her courage as the helicopter set down gently, then she thanked the pilot and battled the wind generated by the blades as she ducked to race across the helipad.
For the first time ever Scarlet had ditched work.
She ran into the breezeway and entered the house from the side entrance. Heading straight into a powder room tucked under the staircase, she brushed her hair, straightened her clothes then went in search of her grandparents, who were expecting her and had surely heard the helicopter arrive.
Her stomach hurt from stress and anticipation as she walked through the house, expecting to find them in the solarium enjoying the morning sun. They sat on a love seat, heads close together, speaking quietly. Maeve touched Patrick's face lovingly. He laid a hand over hers. Their tenderness after fifty-seven years of marriage was enviable.
Scarlet closed her eyes; drew a slow, deep breath; let it out just as slowly then walked into the room. "Good morning," she said, bending to kiss each of them. "Thank you for sending the chopper," she said to her grandfather.
"It sounded urgent."
"Have you not slept in a month, then?" her grandmother asked, concern creasing her face.
"I'm okay." Scarlet thrust a box at Patrick. "I can't keep this. It's beautiful, Granddad, and exactly the kind of necklace I would wear, but I don't deserve it. I don't deserve what it represents, what you said in your note. You won't be proud of me once you hear what I came to tell you."
He frowned. "You've caused no gossip since that hoodlum a year ago. And I've been assured that you've become invaluable to Charisma."
"Just because he rode a motorcycle doesn't make him a hood-" Scarlet stopped the automatic argument. She couldn't lose her temper now. "It doesn't have anything to do with my job," she continued, forcing herself into control, then remembering he had a snitch in place at the magazine. "Who's your source there, anyway? Fin hates being checked up on."
"Fin's paranoid."
"Patrick," Maeve chided.
"Well, she is. I don't check up on her. I've no need to. I can see the numbers any time I choose. I asked Cade how Scarlet was doing. At least he speaks to me. Finola chooses not to."
With good reason, Scarlet thought.
"Sit down, missy. Tell us what's on your mind."
She pulled up a chair, grateful to sit. "I've been seeing John Harlan."
Her grandmother's eyes opened wider, but that was her only outward reaction. Her grandfather's expression darkened, the calm before the storm.
"Seeing him? What does that mean?" he asked coolly.
"Dating him."
"Sleeping with him?"
"Yes." Okay. The worst was out now.
"For how long?"
"A month." She decided they didn't need to know about the stolen night, the first night a month earlier. That could only hurt all those involved.
"Does your sister know?"
Scarlet nodded. "She wouldn't have, but she came home a day early and saw us together. We were going to end it that night."
Her grandfather shoved himself up. Scarlet stood, an ingrained response. She wasn't wearing heels this time, so she couldn't meet him eye to eye. He seemed to tower over her.
"I thought you'd grown up finally. How could you do that to your sister? Betray her like that?"
He'd used the word before-betray. Even though Summer had forgiven her, it still stung, especially since she'd worked so hard to change. Had changed.
"I couldn't help myself," she said quietly. "It's no excuse. I know there'll be penance to pay."
"Couldn't help yourself?" he roared. "Animals can't help themselves. The weak can't help themselves. You're a strong woman who knows the difference between right and wrong. This is wrong, missy."
"I know."
He walked away.
"I'm sorry," Scarlet said. "I know I've disappointed you. Both of you." She dared a look at her grandmother. "I didn't mean to hurt Summer. She's the last person on earth I'd ever hurt."
"But you did, colleen," her grandmother said.
She could bear being a disappointment to her grandfather-that was nothing new-but not Gram. Scarlet wanted to stare at the floor. Instead she kept her head up.