Heartbreak Cove (Sanctuary Island) (RE8) (24 page)

Ignoring the fact that there was currently a very important question Andie wasn’t answering truthfully—
When is my dad coming home?
—she peered down the quiet hallway. Caitlin slipped past her to check the kitchen.

“Sam?”

No answer. He must still be on the phone in her room. But it was almost time to leave for the ferry, and Andie really didn’t want Caitlin to miss her first big Sanctuary Island festival. Andie crossed the hall to knock quietly on her bedroom door. “Hey, sorry to bug you, but I need to get in there and grab some clothes from the dresser really fast. Sam? Can I come in?”

She listened, but there was nothing to hear. Turning the knob slowly, Andie cracked her door open then pushed it wide. Her bedroom was empty.

The whole house felt empty.

“Aunt Andie!” Caitlin cried from the living room.

Heart pounding, Andie ran down the hall to find her niece clutching a piece of paper, tears welling in her eyes. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“He left,” Caitlin said, shoving the paper at her.

Andie felt the blood drain from her face. Her fingertips tingled then went numb as she took the paper from Caitlin. It was a note, written in Sam’s dark, declarative scrawl.

Andie and Caitlin,

Please believe that I love you both with my whole heart. That’s why I have to leave. I’ve done something that could endanger anyone near me, and if anything ever happened to either of you because of me I couldn’t live with it. I know I’m breaking my promise, Andie, and I won’t ask you to forgive me. But once I make everything right, I swear I’ll come back so you can tell me off in person. Until then, take care of each other and remember,

I love you.
Sam

Andie had to read it twice before she could make any sense of it. Sam was gone. After he’d promised to stay. Anger, disbelief, betrayal, sorrow—emotions swirled up like a tornado trying to sweep Andie along, but her brain kicked in.

That conversation Caitlin had instigated, all about committing crimes and being sent away … and then this. It was too big a coincidence. And what she’d told Caitlin was true too—Sam would never hurt either of them deliberately. Andie knew that in her bones. So if he’d left, which he knew would hurt them both, he had to have a good reason. And Andie’s instincts told her that Caitlin might have an idea of what that reason could be.

Her shaky hand steadied as she waved Sam’s note at Caitlin. “Okay. We’re going to fix this, but I need your help. What do you know about Sam that I don’t?”

Caitlin bit her lip, obviously reluctant to snitch, and Andie ran a hand through her hair. “Sweetie, he says in his note that he might be in danger. I want to help him, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Worry crumpled Caitlin’s face. “Queenie isn’t his,” she said in a rush. “I mean, she is now, but he didn’t buy her. He stole her and brought her here. Taylor and I heard him on the phone with someone talking about it. I think it was the same person who called him today.”

Andie blew out a breath. She wasn’t as staggered as she thought she’d be. Deep down, it was almost a relief to know that her instincts hadn’t been wrong to send up red flags when Sam Brennan came back to town. So there it was … Sam was a horse thief.

If Taylor knew, that meant Jo Ellen Hollister was likely to know too. And if Sam was leaving the island to escape justice, he’d have to take the evidence with him.

“I know where he’s going,” Andie said, grabbing Caitlin’s hand and snagging her cell phone from the table by the front door. “Come on, we’ve got some calls to make.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The ring of Taylor’s phone startled her into nearly dropping the ice cream cone she’d bought from Miss Ruth’s table in the town square. She tripped over the curb and back onto Main Street, which had been closed to traffic for the festival, juggling the phone with the cone and trying desperately not to drip homemade mint chip on her white linen sundress.

When she got the cone upright again and found shelter from the flow of pedestrians by climbing the steps to stand in front of the
CLOSED
sign on the Hackley’s Hardware door, she looked at her phone.

The missed call was from Matt.

A drop of melting ice cream hit her hand while she stared at the phone. Taylor sighed, not sure she could enjoy her cone anymore.

“So you’re screening my calls?”

She stiffened at the voice from out of the crowd below her. The river of townspeople parted, and there he was, in the same outfit he’d been wearing the night before but now the khakis and blue button-down were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them. Although judging by the bruise-colored shadows under his eyes, Matt hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before.

Stomping on her instinctive urge to ask if he was all right, Taylor gathered as much dignity as she could while standing there with an ice cream cone slowly melting over her hand. “I didn’t get to my phone in time. What did you need?”

“I wanted to find you.”

“Well, you’ve found me.” The ice cream situation was getting seriously messy. Taylor gave up and started licking to control the damage. Maybe it made her look like a five-year-old, but at least it kept her from having to meet Matt’s gaze.

“We need to talk.”

Taylor controlled her flinch by sitting in one of the rocking chairs usually occupied by the town gossips, two old guys who pretended to play checkers at the table set up between the chairs but who actually used their vantage point in front of the hardware store in the middle of Main Street to make note of every interesting happening in the town.

“I said what I needed to say last night,” she told him, turning back to her ice cream cone. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, and go on like before watching you and Dakota ride off into the sunset together. So if that’s what you’re here to tell me—”

“It’s not,” Matt broke in. “And maybe you got to say what you needed to last night, but I didn’t. So when I said ‘we need to talk’ I misspoke. I meant, I need to talk and you need to listen. Do you want a napkin?”

“Nope.” Taylor met his stare and held it as she defiantly licked a dribble of green-tinged cream off her wrist before giving up and tossing the rest in the trashcan by the door.

She could see Matt’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Okay then. Here’s the deal. My dad is an asshole.”

The raw disappointment in Matt’s voice drilled through the walls Taylor had erected around her heart. Emotion started to trickle out, sympathy and love and the desire to hold Matt’s hand and tell him everything would be all right, but Taylor plugged up the hole. She couldn’t afford any leaks. “I know. I saw his rap sheet.”

“He hit my mom,” Matt said, sinking in the rocking chair across from Taylor. He stared out across the town square, but Taylor had a feeling he wasn’t seeing the smiling people milling around buying cotton candy and getting their kids’ faces painted. Matt was lost in a memory of his life before he came to Sanctuary Island—a life he was suddenly viewing from a new perspective. “She never told me why we had to leave Charlottesville and come here, or why she didn’t like for me to talk to Dad … not that he made much of an effort to talk to me. Until I looked him up and told him exactly where to find us.”

The urge to comfort overwhelmed Taylor’s defenses. “Hey, I thought it was a good idea, too, remember? You couldn’t have known what he was really like.”

Matt turned his head far enough to catch Taylor’s eyes, and the misery she saw in his face shook her. “He had a gun. In a bag hidden behind the cottage, he had a gun. He brought it with him. Here, to Sanctuary Island. To my house, where my mother lives. The house I told him how to find.”

“Oh my—Matt.” Taylor clenched her hands around the rocker’s arms to stop herself from reaching out to him. “But he didn’t get a chance to use it. Everyone is safe. Nothing happened.”

“Because of you.”

Taylor felt her ears go hot with embarrassment at the way he was staring at her. “No, not really. I didn’t do anything. Sheriff Shepard was the one who—”

“I know, and I’m going to thank her, too, but Taylor. You were the one who put it all together and had the guts to tell my mom what was happening. She said the restraining order was your idea.”

“I wanted to keep him away from you,” she admitted softly. “And it didn’t work, anyway.”

“But because of you, Sheriff Shepard knew who he was, and she stopped him before he could come inside and do … whatever he planned to do with that gun. So thank you.”

A thank-you. That’s what Matt wanted to say. And Taylor got it, she did—what happened last night changed everything Matt thought about his past, and if it had gone another way, it could have changed his future forever. It made sense that he’d be preoccupied with that, and not with her dumb, blurted out confession of love.

So Taylor pasted on a polite smile and stood up. “You’re welcome. But I really didn’t do anything. It was mostly Sheriff Shepard. Now, if that’s all, I’d better go find my dad. I’m sure he’s looking for me.”

He wasn’t. The ferry wasn’t due to arrive for another hour, and that was when they’d agreed to meet up by the pier, but Matt didn’t need to know that.

“That’s not all,” Matt protested, lunging out of his chair to block her path. “I wanted to tell you that Dakota broke up with me.”

A tiny bomb exploded in Taylor’s head. She blinked, dizzy for a second, but when the smoke cleared she narrowed her eyes on Matt’s hopeful face. What did he think, that now he was single, Taylor would be happy to step in as replacement girlfriend? “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “That sucks.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Matt scrubbed both hands through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Man, I’m messing this all up. I knew she was going to when I called her this morning, because I told her I decided to go to Stanford instead of UVA.”

“Oh.” Taylor managed a genuine smile, even as her heart turned to stone. Stanford. Three thousand miles away. “I’m really happy for you. It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.”

Matt laughed darkly, a manic light sparking in his eyes. “What I’ve wanted for a long time … Tay, you have to know that’s
you.
”

She stiffened all over in disbelief. “Dating someone else for the last year was a funny way of showing it.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me back,” Matt protested. “That night we almost kissed, down at the cove—you told your dad we were just friends. And I thought, fine. I can do just friends. You’re my
best
friend.”

Taylor swallowed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right. And Dakota was your girlfriend. Until she dumped you and now suddenly you’re telling me you want me? How dumb and desperate do you think I am?”

“Tay, please. I don’t think that at all. Look, Dakota was a mistake. I see that now, but I thought love was about making a commitment and sticking to it. The way I used to wish my parents had done.”

He leaned his hands on the wrought-iron railing that bordered the hardware store’s front stoop, his back a long, tensed line of unhappiness. The walls around Taylor’s heart shook with the force of emotions trying to escape. At this point, the raging torrent was only held back by fear.

“And now?” she managed to ask.

Matt hung his head, and Taylor’s fingers itched to brush through the short, bristly hairs at the nape of his neck. “Now … I think love is about putting the other person’s needs before yours. Like when my mom let me blame her for the divorce so I wouldn’t have to know how bad my dad is.”

He turned to prop his hips on the railing and gave her a smile. “Or the way you encouraged me to follow my dreams,” he said. “Even when you knew they’d take me away from you.”

Taylor closed her eyes. She could feel the dam about to break, to drown her in the rising tide of feelings. “So what. Any decent friend would have done the same.”

With a rueful laugh, Matt said, “That’s probably true, and maybe I should’ve read the signs when Dakota did the opposite.”

Taylor couldn’t help but give him the side eye for that one. “Duh, you think?”

“I know, I know.” Matt held up his hands, distracting her with the way his shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow, exposing his strong, tanned forearms. “I’ve got a lot to learn about love. My point is…”

He cleared his throat. Then with a determined set to his mouth, he stepped away from the railing and clasped Taylor’s ice-cream sticky fingers in his. “My point is, I want to learn about love with you. If we’re together, we can figure it out. And…”

Taylor didn’t give him a chance to say what else he wanted, because inside her the dam had finally broken. Love, longing, giddy happiness, and the culmination of a lot of daydreams came spilling out and all she could do was lean up on her toes and kiss him.

With a groan, Matt untangled their fingers and curved his arms around her back, pressing her close. His kiss was confident but still searching, as if he really did want to learn her by heart. Taylor melted faster than homemade ice cream on the first day of summer.

When the need for air finally pulled them apart, Matt gasped, “You didn’t let me finish.”

“There’s more?” Taylor tucked her nose into his neck, right where it sloped into his broad, muscled shoulder. She’d had her eye on that spot for a long time.

“Yeah.” She could hear him swallow. What could he be about to ask that he’d be uncertain of now? Curious, she tipped her head back to catch him licking his lips nervously. “I want to defer my Stanford admission for a year and go backpacking around the world with you. If you’ll have me.”

“Matt!” Taylor wasn’t proud of the squeal she made just then, but it couldn’t be helped. “Of course I’ll have you! Every time I pictured the trip, even when I knew I’d be walking the streets of London or climbing the Spanish Steps in Rome alone, I always imagined you at my side.”

He kissed her again and a wave of happiness washed over Taylor, nearly knocking her off her feet. Or maybe that was the way Matt weakened her knees by skimming his hands up the sides of her neck to cup the shape of her head in his hands so he could gaze down at her.

“And when we’re done seeing the world,” he said, “and we get our degrees, we’ll come home to Sanctuary Island.”

“This place will always be home to me,” Taylor agreed, turning in Matt’s arms to gaze out over the crowd walking, talking, laughing, living under the ‘Welcome to Sanctuary’ sign that stretched across Main Street. “No matter how far we travel, it will be here for us, waiting with open arms.”

“You helped me learn to love it here,” Matt said, pressing a kiss to her hair, right above her ear. “But I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that no matter where we go, I’ll feel at home—as long as I’m with you.”

Taylor savored the feeling of pure happiness, like bubbles bursting in her chest, until the buzz of her phone distracted her. “Who’s calling me now?” she wondered, frowning down at the screen.

Andie Shepard. Thumbing the answer button, Taylor said, “Hi Sheriff. What’s up?”

The conversation lasted only a few minutes, but they were enough to widen Taylor’s eyes and get her adrenaline jumping. When she clicked the phone off, she raised her eyebrows at Matt. “So. You wanted to thank Sheriff Shepard? I’ve got the perfect way.”

*   *   *

Sam parked the truck he’d borrowed from Windy Corner as close to the pier as he could get it, which wasn’t all that close since the festival in the town square was directly in his path. This would have to be good enough.

He ran around to the back to let Queenie out of the trailer, praying that she stayed calm through the walk down to the docks. His work with her over the last two months had definitely helped, but she was still skittish and easily startled. And, of course, being ripped away from her soul mate, Lucky, had already riled her up.

“I’m sorry, girl,” Sam said, unlatching the trailer door. “But we have to leave now and Lucky’s not ready to come with us.”

If Sam left it any longer, he might not be able to force himself to go, and damn the consequences.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

The steady voice from behind him made Sam lean his forehead against the cold metal of the trailer door for a brief moment. “Andie. You found my note.”

“I did.” Her hand appeared beside his head, gently relatching the trailer door and sliding the bolt home. “Talk to me, Sam. Where are you going and why are you taking Queenie?”

The ferry horn sounded again, closer this time, and panic shot into Sam’s bloodstream. “Please, Andie, you’ve gotta let me go. I need to get Queenie away from here before—”

He stopped, the lie sitting on his tongue like a rock. He clenched his fists, unable to bring himself to lie any longer.

“Before her rightful owner arrives and finds her here,” Andie finished, still in that calm, steady tone.

Sam’s brain exploded. He gaped at her, probably looking like a landed fish gasping for oxygen, but honestly. “Well, damn. Is there anything you miss?”

“Plenty,” Andie said, with a wry shrug. “For instance, the fact that you’re a fugitive from justice.”

Defeat wanted to drag him down, but Sam squared his shoulders under the burden of his own brutal choices. “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, but I swear to you, I had to take her. In the eyes of the law, she’s property—not a living, breathing creature with the ability to feel pain and fear. There is no justice for an animal like Queenie, not without my help.”

The words ground out of him like shells crushed underfoot, but Andie only smiled. It was a sad smile that didn’t reach her gorgeous eyes. “I’ve got the best reason in the world to trust you,” she said slowly. “I love you, and I know you love me, too. And more than that, I know you. Queenie’s legal owner abused her, didn’t he?”