Page 8 of Here With You

“Did you even really love him?” Charlotte asked. “He asked you to go away with him.”

“Of course, I loved him. But you’ll never understand my life.” She eyed Marybeth. “Your daddy was a preacher, and his daddy was a preacher, and you were raised on faith, hope and forgiveness.” She turned to look at Charlotte. “And your parents ran the summer camps, so you were raised on kumbaya, and s'mores. My Daddy was like J. R. Ewing. His power surpassed the family. No one messed with J. R.. Hell, no one breathed without his permission.”

Charlotte smiled. “Not until someone shot him.” She tapped her chin. “I learned how to shoot at summer camp and was a pretty good shot. I might have been able to help.”

Even then they were thick as thieves, and she was pretty sure Charlotte would have taken that shot for her. “Are we talking about murder? Daddy’s long gone and dead.”

“True,” Marybeth said. “Let the dead rest and stop living by their rules.”

She didn’t want to point out that Jesus had been gone for thousands of years, and they still lived by his rules. There were some battles she’d fight, and other’s she’d let go, and that was one of them.

As she thought about the day Miles left, old feelings churned inside her. People expected her to break down after the breakup, and she did, but never in public. She was southern born and raised. By day, she appeared unphased because that was how the Browns did things, but she cried into her pillow every night for a year.

“Where would we have gone, and what would we have done? If I had left with him, we would have been sleeping under that big elm tree in your parking lot years ago. I made the best decision given the circumstances.”

“Now that he’s back, and you don’t have your daddy to make the rules, what will you do this time?”

“This time is different because he’s not asking me to leave with him.” Em smiled. “Besides, I don’t have time for Miles. I have to get ready for the critic.”

Marybeth sighed heavily, and Charlotte forked another bite of pie.

“When will you learn that the resort will never appreciate or love you back? It doesn’t rub your feet at the end of a long day or hug you when things are tough. Those bungalows your family put in aren’t the same as toe-curling kisses,” Marybeth said. “And that boathouse you built to keep up with the Kesslers won’t give you earth-shattering orgasms.”

Em held up her hand. “Not true. Some of the best sex I’ve ever had was in that boathouse.”

Both of her friends smiled as if they’d made their point, and they had. It wasn’t the boathouse that tickled her bits to perfection but stolen moments there with Miles. What was she going to do about him?

CHAPTERFOUR

Dressed in borrowed swim trunks, Miles led the way to the beach. “Stay on The Kessler property.” He nodded toward The Brown Resort. “Little Miss Sunshine next door doesn’t want the riffraff mingling with her guests.” He glanced at Ollie. “You stay away from people’s shoes.” The leather sandal he found in the box hung from Ollie’s mouth. “That’s all you get for the day.” Ollie didn’t chew his treasures. He carried them around with pride and showed them to anyone who’d pay attention. “Ollie has a shoe fetish I can’t seem to break, so keep yours where you can see them. Once he disappears with them, they’re often gone for good.” He didn’t know where they went, but they’d sometimes show up months later to be loved and appreciated again.

“Does he eat them?”

“I’ve never seen him chew one, so I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t swallow them whole.” He found two empty lounge chairs by the water’s edge and tossed their towels on them to stake a claim. “I imagine they’d be hard to digest. I think he buries them.”

All around them, guests laughed and played in the water. Though he felt guilty for not working, he was following directions. Emmaline told him to do nothing. Sunning himself at the water’s edge was as close to doing nothing as he could manage.

Cormac opened one of the two beers he’d taken from the refrigerator and handed Miles one. “This is the life.” He laid back on the lounger facing the water. “Do you get to do this every day?”

Miles took his seat and gulped his beer. “I imagine not, but it’s a nice way to enjoy an afternoon.” He’d spent most of his life working and not much time playing. When he left Willow Bay, he went to school to be a paramedic. He figured he’d ruined enough lives by exposing the truth. He’d make up for the hardships he’d caused by saving lives. The problem was that not everyone wanted or could be saved, and the losses piled on him like heavy weights, leaving him wanting a career change. While unexpected, an offer to try managing the resort before he bought it was exactly the change he needed. “What have you been up to?”

“Since my dad kicked you off the ranch?”

He took another gulp to douse the fire that burned in his heart. “He didn’t kick me off the ranch. He can’t do that as he doesn’t own the ranch. It belongs to your grandmother. He asked me to leave, and I did because I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You know my dad will inherit it when Granny May dies, right?”

He imagined that was true since he’d been disowned decades ago. Most would feel bitter about that, but the ranch was run down and wasn’t worth much. The only thing of value was the land. There was so much that could be done with the property, but his brother Darryl wasn’t a visionary and settled for raising chickens and a few cattle he sold to the locals.

“How is your grandma?” He visited her first thing when he came to town. May McClintock had always been a sturdy woman, but he barely recognized her. Cancer had eaten her alive; she was as thin and fragile as a flower.

“She’s hanging in there. She keeps asking when you’re coming back to see her.”

“I need to work on that.” With his brother unhappy about his return, it wouldn’t be easy, but nothing was impossible. He’d survived worse. Long ago, his family had tossed his belongings in the back of his truck and escorted him off the ranch. He could still see his mother standing on the porch with tears in her eyes. Despite her sadness, she’d never reached out to him. He hadn’t heard from anyone except Cormac, who called to tell him his father had died. That’s how they started a relationship.

“I’m glad you tracked me down all those years ago.” His dad died nearly five years ago from a heart attack. Cormac found Miles on social media and reached out to tell him the news.

“You had a right to know.” He stared off toward the ocean. “I wish you could have come to the funeral.”

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