Chapter Four
On her first day off, Nell rearranged the furniture-what there was of it. She watered her flowers and herbs, did the wash, and baked a loaf of brown bread.
It was still shy of nine o'clock when she cut the first slice for her breakfast.
Evan had hated her early-rising habit, and had complained that that was the reason she was dull at parties. Now, in her little cottage near the sea, there was no one to criticize, no need to creep about. She had her windows open wide, and the whole day belonged just to her.
Still munching on bread and with a heel of the loaf in the pocket of her shorts, she took herself off for a long walk on the beach.
The boats were out, bobbing and gliding over the water. The sea was a soft, dreamy blue with frisky waves that rolled up lacy on the sand. Gulls winged over it, white-breasted in their graceful dance on the air. The music of them, the long, shrill cries, pierced the low, endless rumble of the surf.
She turned in a little dance of her own. Then she tugged the bread from her pocket and tore it into small pieces, tossing it high to watch the gulls circle and dive.
Alone, she thought, lifting her face to the sky. But not lonely. She doubted she would ever be lonely again.
At the sound of church bells she turned to look back at the village, at the pretty white steeple. She glanced down at her shorts with the frayed hem, her sandy sneakers. Hardly dressed for services, she decided. But she could worship in her own way, and offer a prayer of thanksgiving.
While the bells rang and echoed, she sat near the edge of the water. Here was peace, she thought, and joy. She would never, never take either for granted. She would remember to give something back every day. Even if it was just a heel of bread for the gulls. She would tend what she planted. She would remember to be kind, and never forget to offer a helping hand.
She would keep her promises and expect nothing more than the chance to lead a good life that hurt no one.
She would earn what she'd been given, and treasure it.
She would take pleasure in the simple things, she decided. Starting right now.
Rising, she began to collect shells, tucking them in her pockets at first. When the pockets were full, she tugged off her shoes and used them. She reached the far end of the beach, where rocks jutted out of the sand and began to tumble toward the sea. Here there were palm-size stones worn cobble smooth. She picked one, then another, wondering if she could fashion an edging for her little herb bed.
A movement to her left had her wrapping her fingers tight around the stone and turning quickly. Her heart continued to beat in hard jerks as she watched Zack coming down a zigzag of wooden steps.
"Morning. "
"Good morning. " In automatic defense, she glanced back, uneasy to realize how far from the village proper she'd wandered. The beach was no longer empty, but the scattered people were some distance away.
"Nice day for a long walk on the beach," he commented, leaning against the handrail to study her. "You've sure had one. "
He'd watched her, from her dance with the gulls. It was a shame, he thought, how quickly her face could go from radiant to guarded.
"I didn't realize how far I'd come. "
"Nothing's really that far on an island this size. It's going to be a hot one," he said easily. "Beach'll be crowded before noon. It's nice to get a little time on it before it's full of towels and bodies. "
"Yes, well. . . "
"Come on up. "
"What?"
"Come on up. To the house. I'll give you a bag for those shells and stones. "
"Oh, that's all right. I don't really need-"
"Nell-is it cops in general, men in general, or me in particular that worry you?"
"I'm not worried. "
"Prove it. " He stayed where he was, but held out a hand.
She kept her eyes on his. He had good eyes. Smart ones, but patient too. Slowly she stepped forward and lifted her hand to his.
"What do you plan to do with your shells?"
"Nothing. " Her pulse was galloping, but she made herself climb the sandy steps with him. "Well, nothing brilliant. Just scatter them around, I suppose. "
His hand held hers loosely, but even so she could tell it was hard and rough. He wore no rings, no watch on his wrist.
No pampering, she thought. No adornments.
Like her, he was barefoot, and his jeans were ripped at the knee, frayed at the hem. With his sun-streaked hair and tawny skin, he looked more beach bum than sheriff. It tamped down some of her anxiety.
At the landing they turned, walked along a gentle slope. Below, on the far side of the rocks, was a sunny inlet where a small red boat bobbed lazily at a rickety pier.
"Everything's a picture," she said quietly.
"Have you done any sailing?"
"Yes. A little," she said quickly. "Is that your boat?"
"She's mine. "
There was a sudden wild splashing of water, and a sleek, dark head appeared, cruising around the rocks. As Nell stared, a huge black dog leaped onto the shore and shook herself madly.
"Her, too," Zack stated. "Mine, that is. Are you all right with dogs? Tell me now. I can hold her off and give you a fair head start. "
"No, I like dogs. " Then she blinked, looked back at him. "What do you mean, head start?"
He didn't bother to answer, just grinned as the dog leaped up the slope in powerful bounds. She jumped on Zack, tail wagging and spewing water, and licked his face. On two short, deep barks she bunched her muscles and would have given Nell the same treatment if Zack hadn't blocked her.
"This is Lucy. She's friendly, but mannerless. Down, Lucy. "
Lucy got down, her entire body wagging now. Then, obviously unable to control her joy and affection, she leaped on Zack again.
"She's two," he explained, firmly pushing her down and shoving her butt to the ground with his hand. "Black Lab. I'm told they mellow out some when they're older. "
"She's beautiful. " Nell stroked Lucy's head, and at the first touch the dog collapsed on the ground and rolled over, belly up.
"No pride, either," Zack began, then looked surprised when Nell just hunkered down and sent Lucy into ecstasy by rubbing her belly with both hands.
"You don't need pride when you're beautiful, do you, Lucy? Oh, there's nothing like a big, beautiful dog, is there? I always-oh!"