Barefoot Summer Read online

  “How’s the planting going, Dad?” Ryan swatted a fly. “I can help next week if you want.”

  “Sounds good. I could use the help.” Dad dished out a heaping spoonful of potato salad. “She wants to sail that old broken-down barnacle, Jo.”

  Madison placed her napkin in her lap, her eyes glancing off Mom. Despite her mother’s perpetual smile, sadness had lingered in her blue eyes since Jade’s sudden departure.

  “Is that so?” Mom’s look said more than her words. She knew Madison better than anyone. Knew the turmoil losing Michael still caused, even though Madison hadn’t shed a tear, even though she rarely spoke of it. A girl didn’t lose her twin brother without repercussions.

  “For Michael.” Her family stilled, even PJ, and that didn’t happen often. “It’s important to me.”

  Michael had been a capable sailor, though he hadn’t lived long enough to sail in the regatta. It had been his dream to be the youngest winner ever—the current record holder being twenty-seven. And with their twenty-seventh birthday around the corner, time was running out.

  “And you think you can actually win in that thing?” Dad asked.

  She hadn’t meant to blindside him. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s a hunk of rotten wood.”

  He was making it sound far worse than it was. “I’m going to restore it.”

  Her dad breathed a laugh.

  Okay, so it was in rough shape, but Michael had saved for it for two summers. On the doorstep of seventeen, he’d bought a boat instead of a car. She still remembered the look of pride on his face when he’d shown it to her.

  “She’s all mine, Madders,” he’d said, running his hand along the flaking white paint at the bow. “I’m going to be the youngest winner ever, you’ll see.”

  “In that thing?” she’d asked.

  “It’s just cosmetic stuff. Her bones are good.”

  “It’s still in the barn, honey,” Mom said now, setting her hand over Dad’s clenched fist.

  “Thanks, Mom. It won’t be the fastest boat out there, but the race is handicapped, so I have a good shot.”

  “She can’t swim, Jo.”

  “That’s what life vests are for, Daddy,” PJ said gently.

  Dad’s lips thinned. He was torn, Madison knew. Between wanting to support her and being afraid for her.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll take every precaution. I’m getting lessons, aren’t I?”

  “Let me know if I can help,” Ryan said. “I can, you know, crew or whatever.”

  PJ nudged him with her shoulder. “You wouldn’t know a sail from a bath sheet.”

  “Oh, and you would?”

  “Children. Eat your supper.”

  A few minutes later PJ launched into a story about a soufflé disaster, lifting the mood. By the time Mom set the apple pie on the table, Dad’s expression had lightened, though Madison noticed that Daniel was quiet tonight. She caught him casting a look at the empty seat next to her. She understood. It seemed strange without Jade there.

  After supper, Madison helped her mother with the dishes while the others played HORSE. She scrubbed the burger platter while Mom loaded the old brown dishwasher.

  Madison loved the little house she rented—which until two weeks ago Jade had shared—but there was something comforting about her parents’ home. Something about the predictable squeaks in the old wood floor, the hourly chime from the grandfather clock, and the familiar scents of lemon and spray starch. She rinsed the platter. Even the ancient spray hose, which was more trickle than spray.

  After the dishwasher had whirred into action, Mom leaned against the sink ledge. The pendant lights illuminated her face, settled into the laugh lines around her eyes.

  “Are you sleeping okay, honey? You look tired lately.”

  “I’m fine.” Madison had never told Mom about the nightmares, and she wasn’t about to worry her with them now.

  Her mom gave her a long, knowing look. The kind that made Madison realize that she could shutter off her heart to the outside world, but Mom would still see right through.

  “You know, Madison . . . if it’s peace you’re looking for, you won’t find it on the regatta course.”

  Madison put the platter away, the old cupboard giving a familiar creak. Was that what she was after? Peace? Did a person ever find such a thing after losing someone they loved so much? Someone so innocent and undeserving of death?

  Mom took her hands, which had begun wringing the towel. “I wish I could help. I can’t, but I know Someone who can.”

  “I know, Mom.” She’d heard it often enough. From her parents, Pastor Adams, even Ryan. If showing up at church could fix what ailed her, she’d have been healed long ago. She was as regular as the pianist. All the McKinleys were.

  Mom’s eyes turned down at the corners and glimmered with sadness.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Really. Learning to sail will be . . .” She squeezed the word past her lips. “Fun.”

  “I don’t know how you’ll have time with the play and all. You know how busy you get every summer with all the rehearsals.”

  “It’ll be a lot, but I can handle it.” It wasn’t like she had a husband and kids. Or even a boyfriend.

  Madison hung the towel on the oven door, and they meandered outside and sat on the concrete stoop. Mom grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds from the bag she kept there and tossed them onto the dirt path near the birdbath.

  “I should’ve gotten you a birdfeeder for Mother’s Day.”

  Mom tossed another handful. “This is just as easy.”

  “It’s a wonder you don’t have a sunflower forest out there for all the seed you’ve thrown over the years.”

  “The ground’s too hard. Besides, the birds snatch it up as quickly as I scatter it.”

  A sparrow fluttered to the ground, picked up a seed, and made off with it.

  “See what I mean?”

  On the court, PJ whooped. “That’s an R. So that’s H-O-R for all of you.” She might be small, but the girl could shoot. The men groaned as she sank another shot.

  “I finally heard from Jade today,” her mom said.

  Madison turned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Joanne shrugged. “I told the others before you arrived. She only left a message. Didn’t say where she was. I don’t think she’s coming home anytime soon.”

  Madison’s lips pressed together. Beckett. What did he do to her? “She didn’t say what happened?”

  “No. It’s been a long time coming, I think. Jade’s always been restless, and I’ve had a feeling she’d leave sooner or later. I just wish I’d said something. I hate the thought of her out there all alone.”

  Madison put her arm around her mom. “She’s an adult, Mom. She can take care of herself.”

  Neither of them said what they were both thinking. Jade might be an adult—she wasn’t even the youngest sibling—but she was the most vulnerable of all the McKinleys.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BECKETT GUIDED THE TWENTY-FOOT BAYLINER CAROLINE into the narrow slip. The river was fast and high today from the late spring rain, but now the sky was clear, the setting sun bright as it dropped behind the hills.

  His boss met him on the dock as he tied off the boat. Carl Dewitt was short and thick with a paunch that strained his shirt buttons. “Hey, you fixed it?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  Carl nodded, his bushy gray brows lifting toward his receding hairline. “Good, good. Our customer will be thrilled. His mechanic in Tampa couldn’t figure it out.”

  Beckett shrugged, handed over the keys. “Been at this awhile.” He’d been fixing motors long before he was legally employable, more from necessity than anything else.

  They parted ways at the shop entrance, Carl going inside to shut down for the night, Beckett heading for his truck. He turned over the engine, and it purred smoothly. Friday night, thank God. A nice quiet evening with Rigsby and ESPN, a s
hort day tomorrow, and then a day off.

  Several minutes later he turned into his gravel drive on the other side of town. The front yard was hardly big enough to host a flea, and the house wasn’t much bigger, but it was home. Had been since he was a boy. The backyard was more generous. After saving for years, he’d put up an outbuilding last year. It took up most of the yard, but that only meant less mowing. The building was spacious, heated, and well lit. The perfect place to build boats.

  His landline was ringing as he unlocked the door. Rigsby, his black Labrador mix, barreled him over on the threshold. “Hey, big guy.” Beckett gave him a quick scratch behind the ears before reaching for the phone.

  He shrugged from his work shirt as he answered. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Beckett. It’s Evan Higgins.” His old friend sounded winded.

  He greeted Evan as he flipped on ESPN.

  “I’m in a fix,” Evan said. “Wondered if you could help.”

  “Name it.” Evan ran a crew for Exterior Solutions. He had helped Beckett put up his outbuilding.

  “I donated sailing lessons for that auction last week, but I just found out I’m going to be working a lot of Saturdays. The crew on an apartment complex in Louisville quit, and they were way behind. Left it in kind of a mess, and the owner’s ticked. I’m headed there now to straighten it out. Long story short, can you fill in for me tomorrow . . . and maybe a few other Saturdays? Your boss donated rental of a sloop.”

  Rigsby barked, facing the back door, his black tail nearly knocking over the wastebasket as it swished around. Beckett let him out, turned on the porch light.

  “Sure, I don’t see a problem, as long as Dewitt doesn’t mind me taking time off. I can fill in as much as you need.”

  “I ran it by him first. He was happy to donate to the cause.”

  “All right then. What time tomorrow?”

  “One o’clock at the marina. Listen, I appreciate this. The package was for lessons with a racing pro, so my options were pretty limited. I think she’s a beginner, so you’ll have to start with the basics. We’re crewing together for the regatta, so teach her well.”

  Evan, saddled with a beginner. That only upped his own chances at the regatta cup. Beckett chuckled at the thought.

  Evan caught on. “Hey. No giving her bad instruction.”

  Beckett opened the door and let Rigsby back in. “No worries. I like to win fair and square. So one o’clock at the marina. Who am I meeting?”

  “One of the McKinley girls—the vet. She’s eager to learn and bright, so she should pick it up quickly.”

  His hand froze on the door. “Madison?” Her accusations from two weeks ago returned with enough force to sting. Last thing he wanted was hours alone on a boat with Madison.

  She wouldn’t be any happier about the change of plans than he was. But he’d already agreed. Why hadn’t he asked more questions first?

  “Does she know?” Beckett asked.

  “I left her a voice mail. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, you’re almost as good as me.”

  Beckett ground his teeth. Well, things just went from bad to worse where she was concerned, didn’t they? First the supposed date with her sister, now this.

  “Just kidding,” Evan was saying.

  “Yeah, right, I know, I was just . . . thinking about something else.” He squeezed his eyes closed, pinched the bridge of his nose.

  He couldn’t believe this was happening. How many lessons had he agreed to?

  “Well, I’m almost there. Let me know how it goes, and thanks again.”

  “No problem.”

  After they said good-bye, Beckett set the phone on the counter and beat his forehead against the tight mesh of the screen door.

  Lessons with Madison. Great. Just great. How could he be alone with her, out on the water where he could see her, smell her, touch her?

  Why is this happening, God? I promised to stay away from her, and now look.

  For the thousandth time he chided himself for his impetuous decision two weeks ago. What kind of fool was he, showing up at Madison’s house, flowers in hand, on the night of the Spring Sowers Banquet? What had he been thinking?

  He’d had his speech all prepared, but instead of Madison, Jade had answered the door. She took one look at the cluster of pink roses, and a shy smile bloomed on her face. Half a dozen silver rings glimmered in the waning daylight as she brought her hand over her heart.

  “It was you?” she said.

  He didn’t understand, didn’t know what to say.

  She took in his collared shirt and dark jeans, then smiled, her green eyes sparkling. “The banquet . . . ?”

  He felt like a heel. “Jade, I—”

  But suddenly she was gone from the doorway. “I haven’t been to the Sowers Banquet in forever. I’ll be back. I have to change.” She was down the hall when she seemed to remember she’d left him on the porch.

  She returned, letting him in. “Sorry, sorry! Come in. Let me just . . . you think you could find a vase in the kitchen? They’re so pretty, thank you!” Her cheeks bloomed with color.

  “Jade, listen, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t take me a minute.” And then she was gone again.

  Madison’s kitchen was meticulously clean and smelled of pine and lemon. He rummaged for a vase inside the maple cabinets. What now? He didn’t have the heart to tell Jade the truth. Not after seeing her face light up. Not after she’d scurried to her room to change like she’d waited all her life for this date. Not when she was finally coming alive again after losing Seth.

  Stupid. Why didn’t you just call Madison and ask like a normal person? Better yet, why didn’t you just keep your feelings stuffed deep inside where they belong?

  He reviewed Jade’s behavior. It was like she’d been expecting him. Well, it couldn’t be helped now. He was going out with Madison’s sister, like it or not.

  He shut a cupboard hard. Opened another.

  He’d been reminding himself for years that Madison was beyond his reach. What kind of a future did the son of Wayne O’Reilly have with the daughter of Chapel Springs’ most respected family? It just didn’t happen. He’d always known that.

  What didn’t make sense were the moments of insanity today, when he’d convinced himself it was worth the risk. And now here he was, in Madison’s kitchen readying for a date with her sister—what was she anyway, twenty-one, twenty-two? He may as well kiss his chances with Madison good-bye.

  Not that you had one anyway, O’Reilly.

  Could things get any worse?

  “Can I help you?”

  He pulled his head from a low cupboard to find the object of his thoughts entering the kitchen.

  The sight of her stole the moisture from his mouth. She was all dark flowy hair and big brown eyes. One finely arched brow lifted.

  He found his tongue. “Looking for a vase.”

  Her eyes flickered to the cluster of roses on the counter, then back to him as he rose to his feet.

  Her jaw set, she passed him, going to the high cupboard above the stainless steel fridge. She wore a pair of fitted jeans and a white T-shirt—an outfit that promised a comfy evening home on the couch. His source had been right. She wasn’t going to the banquet. Especially not with him.

  She stood on tiptoe, pulled down a clear glass vase, and handed it to him.

  “I’m ready.” Jade fairly skidded into the room, having pulled off what must have been the fastest wardrobe change ever. She wore a black gauzy skirt, leggings, and a funky off-the-shoulder top.

  “Good, you found a vase. He brought me flowers,” she told Madison.

  Madison crossed her arms. “I see that.”

  Beckett squirmed under Madison’s stare. He suddenly wanted out of there more than he could say. He ran water in the vase, willing it to flow faster. He could hear Jade whispering to Madison over the rush of water, but couldn’t make out the words. Was pretty sure he didn’t want to.

  He st
uffed the flowers into the vase and set them on the counter. “We should get going.”

  Rigsby gave a sharp bark, and Beckett ran fresh water into his dish, his heart still thudding hard at the memory. He’d tried to salvage Jade’s feelings, but in the end he’d done just the opposite. And he was sure, lessons or no, Madison wasn’t about to let him forget it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MADISON STOOD ON THE DOCK AT PRECISELY ONE O’CLOCK, looking everywhere but at the mile-wide stretch of the Ohio River. Kentucky was far away on the other side, its tree-covered hills bright green in the afternoon sun. Between her and the distant shoreline sprawled hundreds of feet of deep, murky water.

  She shivered at the thought and swallowed, even though her throat was dry as flour. She searched her bag for her water bottle. Great. She’d left it on the counter. Stifling a yawn, she retrieved her bag of coffee beans and popped two into her mouth, savoring the chocolate coating before crunching into the bean.

  Nearby, water lapped at the bottoms of the boats in the harbor’s slips. Metal hardware pinged against poles, and loose material fluttered in the wind.

  She checked her watch. Where was Evan? She hated tardiness, and it didn’t help that her nerves were strung tight as guitar strings.

  “Ready?”

  She turned at the gruff tone. Beckett O’Reilly seemed in a hurry as he passed, heading down a narrow dock as though he had a hundred things to do.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He barely spared her a glance. “Giving you a sailing lesson.”

  She opened her mouth and found it empty of words. Her heart raced toward an invisible finish line.

  “Where’s Evan?”

  “I take it you didn’t check your voice mail.” He stopped at a boat. “Hop in. He was called into work.”

  She crossed her arms. “No thank you. I’ll wait till next week.”

  He turned and gave that little smirk of his. She wanted to smack it off his face. “Up to you. But he’s going to be working a lot of Saturdays, and he asked me to fill in as needed. If you’re a beginner like he said, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

  “You’re filling in?”