Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Because she gave us hope,” I spit out. “And that wasn’t a good thing to have after so many days. I couldn’t sleep, eat, even bathe. All I could do was desperately watch the horizon.”
“Are you saying the authorities listened to her hunches?”
“Maybe, maybe not. She’s friendly with the police chief. Even still, she constantly gave us reassurances that I clung to with all my might.”
Aaron swallows roughly as if afraid to ask. “Did she tell you your parents and brother-in-law would be found?”
I nod. “Alive. I shouldn’t have put so much faith in her predictions.”
“I’m so sorry.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him. It feels like a gigantic boulder is sitting on my chest as I’m reliving that moment. “Is that why you rarely walk on the beach or take photos of the ocean?”
“I…” My mouth runs dry over how on the nose he is. “How did you know that?”
“Just put two and two together. I told you, you’re not that hard to read.”
It’s the levity we need. I fling some sand at him, and he tosses some back. We wrestle on the blanket, which only leads to getting sand everywhere.
As we’re standing and shaking out the blankets, Aaron asks, “Do you think maybe she feels terrible…having given you hope?”
I hitch a shoulder because it was never discussed again. Oh, she’s tried, but I’ve ignored her. I just couldn’t go there. It was too painful. Even now, I feel that same gnawing in my stomach. “June says to let it go, but I can’t help thinking she overstepped.”
“I get it.” He squeezes my hand. “Does Beth still have family in Aqua Vista?”
“She lost the love of her life about ten years ago,” I reply, remembering full well how wrecked she was. She’d closed her shop for months after. “Her name was Alise.”
His eyebrows arch up. “Her?”
“Yep. They ran that store together until there was a freak accident.”
He winces. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Alise was hiking in the mountains and got dehydrated. Disoriented. Died from a rattlesnake bite.”
His hand clamps over his mouth. “How devastating!”
Guilt builds inside me about hanging on to my anger for so long.
“Had they found her in time, they would’ve been able to save her.” I swallow roughly. “Some of the townsfolk said she brought it on herself. Awful stuff. I may have my own issues with Beth, but that’s totally uncalled for.”
He frowns. “Do you think that played into how she responded to your family tragedy?”
“Johnny thinks it clouded her thinking. And maybe it did.” Talking it through with Aaron makes me feel more rational about Beth. But I can’t shake how she overstepped. Her mantra—they’ll find them in time—felt like a cruel refrain, but I can see how she probably blames herself for Alise. June told me once that Beth feels like she gave up too early, and for someone who tries to radiate positive energy, maybe that had been her downfall.
I can feel Aaron’s gaze pressing into me. “What?”
“I like the softer side of Jack McCoy.”
My heart bounces against my rib cage.
“I thought you liked the hard side,” I tease.
He laughs. “That too.”
19
AARON
No doubt, this experience is incredible. Too bad Rocco isn’t here to share it. Maybe he’d finally understand why this town has become special to me. Not that turtles don’t hatch on other beaches. I know there’s more to it than that.
I consider calling him before thinking better of it. Not only would I wake him out of a dead sleep, but it might ruin this moment with Jack, who’s opened up to me in a way he hasn’t before.
It feels as surreal as seeing the turtles hatching. And getting to watch Jack in action again, how he gets low in the sand to point and shoot, capturing the babies as they stumble to the water, is fascinating. His attention to detail shows how much he cares about the art form. Even if he thinks he doesn’t—or at least not enough to do it full-time.
There are only a few stragglers now, but I find myself mesmerized by the newborns’ instinct to head toward the foamy waves and dive right in. No one taught them how to walk, let alone swim, but they’re compelled to do it regardless.
I watch as a tiny one hobbles along the sand, figuring out his destiny. “I don’t think I can leave them.”
“The turtles?” Jack asks, his eyes fixed on the tide.
My cheeks heat. “Yeah, don’t make fun of me.”
“Definitely not.” Our gazes clash. “I feel the same.”
“Oh, thank God.” My stomach flushes with warmth. “Can we sit here and make sure every last one gets where it needs to go?”
“Of course. Besides, maybe our presence is disrupting the predators.”
Osprey have been combing the surface of the water, but we don’t mention what they’re searching for. I know it’s the natural way of things, but I’m glad I can’t see how many they might’ve already gotten.