At the top of the path, Evelyn hesitated, noticing how it dropped off. She grabbed Christina’s hand. “It’s pretty steep.”
“Would it be okay if I carried Chris?”
Evelyn brought her gaze to Clancy’s. He looked so serious.
“I’ll get her down safely. I promise.”
Again—there it was. It was remarkable how many times and in how many ways he’d managed to ask her that question in the last couple days.
Do you trust me?
It seemed she did. She was still here. Clancy hadn’t ambushed her with the SWAT team or dragged her off the ferry in handcuffs. He’d welcomed her and Chrissy to his home, and, of course, he’d saved Chrissy’s life, the way he’d saved her own, so many years before.
Evelyn took one more look down the beach path. This was it. She had already let down her guard, but the time had come to commit to a plan of action. She was about to hand Christina’s future and her fate to a man she hadn’t spoken to in eighteen years. She would trust him—absolutely—or she would leave.
“I’ll be holding up the rear,” Evelyn said.
“Hop on, Pirate Jellybean!” Clancy crouched in front of her and Chrissy automatically climbed on his shoulders. Evelyn was about to suggest just a piggyback ride for safety’s sake but changed her mind. Christina squealed with delight as she rode on Clancy’s shoulders down the path.
Look at him—so strong and capable and steady. Evelyn suspected he would need all those things in the days to come.
Clancy delivered Christina safely to the sand and tossed the ball down the beach. The dogs raced after it, sand flying, crashing together into the calm waves to ferret it out. Christina was in awe.
“They can swim! The dogs can swim!” She jumped up and down and began to spin in circles, arms wide. She was simply happy to be outside, glad to make noise and stretch out her arms and legs and run around. How lovely to be free in the world for the first time in days, without her aunt gripping on to her, anxiety and fear the undercurrent of everything she said and did.
Christina ripped off her shoes and socks so she could run in the waves, and Evelyn did the same. She luxuriated in the feel of the sand between her toes, the sea in her nostrils, and the low sun on her arms. Clancy jogged forward and backward along the water’s edge, tossing the ball again and again, keeping an eye on Evelyn and Chrissy as they kicked around in the surf. Eventually, all three of them met up at the same spot, Clancy shoulder-to-shoulder with Evelyn. He gave her a sideways glance and broke into a smile right out of her memory—white, straight, gorgeous, and spreading into those midnight blue eyes of his.
A flash went through her. It was a sizzling rush of sensuality, yearning, recognition, and relief. She felt it when she recognized him Friday, when they sat together on the bench at the motel, and most certainly that morning, when his kisses made her lose the ability to reason. But the first time she had felt any of those things had been eighteen years ago, the summer she was fourteen.
He threw the ball. The dogs ran. Christina laughed and swept her hands through the water.
“Are you doing okay?”
Evelyn kept her eyes on Christina but answered him. “Better.”
“Wahlman’s gone. The FBI didn’t find any evidence you were ever here.”
She exhaled, only then realizing how much breath she’d been holding in. “Thank you.”
“How do you know Wahlman fixed the court proceedings?”
She checked to make sure Christina was occupied. “He must have. The court never notified us that the custody hearing date had been changed, though computer records indicate they did. Wahlman won custody by default because we never showed up to object. I have a friend who works in IT who’s trying to unravel it for us, but so far, nothing.”