“Are you kidding? They had a great time. Now c’mon . . .”
Before she could stop him, he’d reached out, taken her hand. And then they were walking along the beach, like a couple.
It took her a second to catch up. He had strong hands, the kind used to hard work, and she was just about to tighten her grip when he let hers go.
Oh.
“Most people don’t know about this secret sunset-watching getaway. They come down to the harbor and sit on the beach. But there’s this little path here . . .”
He led her down the rocky shoreline, past a boat launch to a tiny trail through the woods. He held back a branch and she followed the path.
It emerged only thirty feet later onto another beach.
“See, the land sort of juts out to the south, and most people walk out on the rocks there. But trust me—this is the view you want.” He took her hand again—this time she didn’t read anything into it—and led her to a grouping of boulders, a shelf of rock that slid out into the lake, the water caught in pockets and crannies. He stopped at a couple tall rocks and lifted her easily on top of one, then climbed up beside her.
Casper leaned back on his hands as if they were old friends catching the sunset every day.
It felt comfortable. Easy.
“In a second, the sun is going to go down, and the sky is going to turn this amazing mix of red and orange. The lake becomes a sort of deep purple, and the clouds will be streaked with color as if they’re on fire.”
“You sound like you’ve seen this before.” She didn’t want to add the sudden thought that he’d brought other girls out to this very spot.
“My dad and I used to come here. He would fish on the big lake sometimes, and after we pulled in the boat, we’d sneak back here, take in the magic.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s just one of the many treasures of Deep Haven. One of the reasons I love living here.” He sighed. “And one of the reasons I hate the thought of leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” Of course he was. She should have seen this coming.
“I don’t know. I’ve been offered this internship in Roatán. It’s an island off Honduras where there’s a number of shipwrecks and pirate treasures.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, then stopped when she saw his expression dim. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I thought . . . You’re serious.”
“Yeah, I think so.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “Or I thought so. Until just a second ago. It does sound a little hokey, doesn’t it? But I’m an archaeology major, so—”
“So it’s not hokey at all.” She glanced at the sunset, and indeed, it had turned magical, the colors revealing the artistry of God.
Funny, she never would have had that thought before moving here. Maybe Liza’s religious thinking had infected her. The thought sank in and didn’t hurt.
“Is that what you want? To be a treasure hunter?”
“I’d like to find something precious, yes. Maybe Blackbeard’s treasure. Or a lost artifact from the Crusades.”
“So you’re like what’s his name—Indiana Jones?”
He laughed and it sweetened the air. “I guess so. Mostly I just want to find the things hidden, the treasure that no one sees or doesn’t think to look for.” He picked up a rock, tossed it into a puddle of flame. “What do you want?”
A home. A family. This moment with a man who wouldn’t jump on his motorcycle and drive away.
“I want to be safe,” she said quietly, before she could stop herself.
His expression drained. She tried to lighten her words with a smile but then looked away. “I came here because I had nowhere else to go, and Liza offered me a home.”
He was still looking at her, and she blinked, fighting another rush of tears to her eyes. Why had she said that?
“You came to the right place,” he said finally. Then he wove his hand into hers.
He didn’t take it away, even after the sun had disappeared, even after the sky turned from fire to soft indigo velvet.
And as he drove her home under the glow of a fresh moon, she conceded that maybe, yes, she had.
I want to be safe.
The words dug into Casper, had turned him in his sleep. Who could have hurt Raina, made her feel unsafe?
That thought had plagued him deep into the night, until finally he’d gotten up, found himself a stale cup of coffee, heated it, and sat outside, watching the stars.
With her words, her behavior this week started to make sense. It had taken him an entire cup of coffee and small talk, even some teasing to get her to look him in the eye after their accidental dunking in the lake. As if she were angry . . . or afraid of him.