blue T-shirt over gray sweatpants and was slipping on her Crocs when she heard Geneva ring the bell she’d given her to use as a summons. Annie raced down the stairs. “What is it?”
“Calm down. The repairman I’ve been expecting is coming up the walk.”
Through the bay window Annie saw a white pickup with red lettering on the door. AAA Builders Home Repair and Remodeling. “That was fast.”
“I told you I wanted the cottage fixed. And I want it done properly. This company came with high recommendations.” A heavy knock sounded on the door.
Running her fingers through her damp hair, Annie walked to the front hall and threw open the door.
The world fell away. She couldn’t breathe, much less utter a sound. She leaned against the doorjamb, a wave of dizziness threatening her balance.
“Annie?” The blond-haired man hovered over her, his strong, broad-shouldered body blocking the sun, his chiseled facial features pale beneath his tan. Then he turned away, swiped the ball cap from his head and paced to one end of the porch and back, stopping in front of her, his gray eyes icy. “You’ve got some nerve showing up in Eden Bay.”
Annie gripped the door, focusing on his chest, on the forest-green of his chamois shirt, on anything but those accusing eyes. If she could focus there, she could stop the memories—Pete, Kyle…her reasons for leaving town. “I…I…” She faltered, realizing there was absolutely nothing she could say to Kyle.
“Don’t even try to explain.” He placed the cap back on his head. “Find someone else for this job.”
“Annie?” Geneva’s imperious voice pierced the silence. “I want to see that young man.”
Kyle hesitated.
“Look,” Annie said in a low enough tone that Geneva couldn’t hear, “my aunt’s sick and wants this place fixed up.”
“There are plenty of guys who can do it.”
“You were recommended.”
He peered over her head into the interior. “All right. I’ll tell her no myself.” He stepped around her and strode into the living room.
Struggling for equilibrium, Annie sank onto the stairs, listening to the rise and fall of voices. After Kyle told her great-aunt he would be unavailable to do the repairs, she heard Geneva’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. After a few minutes, Kyle returned, his expression grim. He paused in the doorway. “Have your damn list ready. I’ll be here Wednesday morning.” He put his hand on the doorknob, then spoke again. “One more thing. Stay out of my way.” Then he was gone.
Slowly Annie released her death grip on the banister. Why had she ever thought she could hide out here? Avoid the disapproval, even hatred, of those in Eden Bay?
Her muscles tensed. She longed to leave this place. Now.
“Annie?”
She took a deep breath, then went into the living room.
Her aunt’s color had improved and her face bore a triumphant smile. “Well, everything’s settled. That’s a very professional young man.” She adjusted her nosepiece. “Did you know him when you lived here?”
Annie nodded, dreading further questioning.
“He seems nice. Maybe you should get in touch with some of your old friends.”
“No.”
The smile faded from Geneva’s lips. “It was a long time ago, dear.”
“They haven’t forgotten. Or forgiven.”
ADRENALINE PUMPING, Kyle gunned the truck down the driveway then onto the Coast Highway where he abruptly pulled into a scenic overlook. Oblivious to Bubba’s quizzical look, he gripped the wheel, stared at the ocean and swore at the top of his lungs. Finally, with the cab closing in on him, he climbed out and gulped in sea-fresh air, haunted by what that bitch Annie had done to Pete ten years ago.
As if it were yesterday, he was in Pete’s bedroom listening to his friend’s voice break with emotion. “She’s gone, man. Just like that. What did I do?” Pete clutched a crumpled envelope.
Kyle had thought to be supportive by telling him no girl was worth it. Wrong tactic. Pete loved Annie with an intensity that defied reason. They were the perfect couple, the ones who would be as crazy in love in their nineties as they were in their teens. That’s why her abrupt departure was so twisted, made no sense.
“You don’t get it, Kyle. I can’t live without her. I’m going after her.”
Kyle picked up the Dear John letter and scanned it. “Forget her. It says right here she wants a new life. Without you. Besides, you can’t go after her. We leave for National Guard training tomorrow.”
Pete howled Annie’s name. Kyle wrapped him in a bear hug, while Pete said, “Something’s not right. Something’s not right.”
The roar of the surf filled Kyle’s head. A lot of somethings weren’t right. Annie had no business coming back to Eden Bay and stirring up the past. Her presence would remind everyone of Pete, of his never-ending search for her—a search that bordered on desperate—of the way her disappearance had slowly drained the vitality from him.
Worse, she would remind Kyle of all the ways he’d let down his best friend and all the reasons why that sniper should have hit him, not Pete.
What a mess. And so typical of Kyle’s life. The chance to work on a gem of a house like he’d always wanted tainted by seeing her every day. Every time he saw her—still beautiful, damn it, despite the lack of makeup and the too-big clothes—he could remember how close he came to betraying Pete.
Kyle sighed. The least he could do was protect the Nemecs from her. The last thing they needed was her stirring up their grief. Man, she was trouble. He had hoped never to see her again because he was afraid of what he’d say to her, do to her.
Yet when she’d opened the door this morning, his breath had stopped. A part of him was glad to see her. And that’s the part of himself he damned to hell.
PROPPED UP on three bed pillows, Geneva stared at the ceiling, wide-awake. When she was younger, she’d hated such sleepless nights. Now they were a blessing. They meant more time to remember, to plan, to be. She’d asked Annie to crack the window so she could hear the waves lapping the rocky beach in a soothing lullaby. And smell the tangy salt air that transported her to so many of the places she’d visited—the Greek Islands, Australia, Tahiti. It had been a good life, full of adventure and fascinating people. And no small measure of success. For most people enough satisfaction for a lifetime.
But not for her until this one last thing was done—helping Annie live.
Geneva rued the fact she’d been halfway around the world when Annie had needed her all those years ago. Annie had fled Eden Bay in a panic, for reasons she had never shared. Geneva had been unable to help. The best she’d been able to do from so far away was direct Annie to Nina Valdez in Bisbee, Arizona.
Geneva had first met Nina at a women’s consciousness-raising retreat in Mexico where they’d struck up an enduring friendship. Nina owned a small café and herb shop, and under Nina’s wing, Annie had found sanctuary, but not the happy, fulfilling life Geneva wished for her. The way Nina described it in a letter, Annie was simply doing what people expected of her. Making no waves. Forming no close friendships. Calmly and dispassionately existing. Annie deserved more. Needed more. Needed to live.
For a brief time this morning, Geneva had thought the appearance of Kyle might offer Annie a connection to the town. But Annie had made it perfectly clear that she wanted no part of him or anyone else she had once known.
Something continued to eat at Annie. Something that had happened here. And until she faced it directly, she was doomed to a half-life.
Geneva closed her eyes.