A Saltwater Christmas (The Southern Isles #1)

Chapter Seven

A llie sat on the back porch, staring through the trees at the shimmering salt marsh. It was mesmerizing, like tiny twinkle lights strewn across a watery field. To the far right she caught a glimpse of the lighthouse. She knew what was out there now—an old camp, a creek filled with fossils, a beach, a trail through the woods, and lifetimes of memories for the people who camped there. Allie’s childhood had never been the summer camp sort. There was no time for that. She’d made commitments to her gymnastics team, her dance team, and her charity work. At least, that was the household mantra: you make a commitment, you stick to it .

But the truth was, her mother made those commitments on her behalf. Allie just did the work, suffered the injuries, won the medals, and still managed to get a certificate every year for never missing a day of school. That certificate also belonged to her mother. Allie wasn’t mad about it. She knew she had those buzzwords she saw all over social media—words like resilience and grit . She knew she was capable, and she knew how to work hard too. But summer camp, even just once, would’ve been nice.

She pulled her cold feet onto the chair and tucked her knit blanket around them. The moon was busy overpowering the sun, casting melon colors across the sky. If only it was summertime, she might see some fireflies. “Dad?” she breathed. “Why?” Why hadn’t he been more present in her life? Why had he left her mother to handle everything? He was more than just a paycheck, he was more than the roof over their heads. But he didn’t know it. He was a great protector, and a good provider, but he’d missed out on being a friend. Now it was too late.

The scene of Sam struggling to keep hold of Tulip switched back and forth in her mind from Sam to her father. She could still feel the strength in her dad’s arms as he spun her around or hugged her tight. She would never have that again. Never feel safe in that way again.

Then there was Sam, using every muscle in his body to compensate for his weak left arm—she’d seen the strain in his face and neck. He would have torn a muscle before he dropped that little girl. Allie softened more toward him, and that was dangerous. She tossed aside the warm feeling and forced herself to be realistic. Sam was incapable of apologizing. And he, apparently, had plenty of chicks she would soon have the displeasure of sharing her space with. He was a wounded soldier, a traumatized soul, and a man who should probably rescue all of the scary dogs and live alone with them for the rest of his life.

A squirrel ran down a nearby tree and up another, and Allie wondered if squirrels had mates for life. She hoped they did.

Now , she thought, enough of Sam . She needed to process her feelings for Joey. She used her thumb to tap each finger—one, two, three, four, four, three, two, one. Then she called up his image, remembering the events of the day. Joey working behind Fred’s counter, communicating with the group, staying by her side as they searched. Was it possible that she only liked him because she had some sort of unresolved heartbreak from her ex? He looked only about 40 percent like him, and their personalities were completely different. He was not Mark. And that was good. She didn’t even want Mark anymore. And it wasn’t fair to have feelings for Joey just because he reminded her of someone who’d left her. Getting Joey to love her wasn’t going to fix that pain of abandonment. There were no do-overs in life. Plus, he was her coworker. And this was her dream job. She would be the dumbest girl on the planet if she screwed it up by trying to force a romance.

She plopped her feet to the floor in exasperation. Why was she even thinking about this? She did not need a man in her life! And she needed to stop battling with her own brain. “Suck it up, Allie,” she told herself. “You’re good enough the way you are. You’re just fine alone.”

She gathered up her soft blanket and tapped her toe twice on the threshold before entering the house. Cuppie was curled up next to a fire, and Sam was at the kitchen table. “It’s cold out there,” she said.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I built you a fire.”

The fire was for her? “Thanks.” She sat on the hearth and put her freezing toes as close as she could to the warmth.

“Did you see that Tulip’s home?” he asked.

“No, I left my phone in my room.”

“The bones weren’t misaligned, so the doctors put her in a boot.”

“It’s nice that you’re an EMT, and that you knew what to do when you found her. It could have been so much worse,” she said. He had a pile of sticks in front of him that he appeared to be snipping and tying together with twine. “What are you doing?”

“Making a Christmas decoration.” He chuckled. “I’m hoping it looks like a tree when I’m done.”

She wished he would stop being so excited about Christmas.

Cuppie’s head jerked up, her ears alerted to the front door. Seconds later, there was a knock. Sam immediately stood to get it, with Cuppie leading the way.

It was Tulip and Jessa. Apparently, the Boone family had no problem with consistently dropping by unannounced.

“Sam!” Tulip declared, stumbling into the house on crutches. Buttercup didn’t try to intervene, she just wagged excitedly. Jessa grabbed Tulip’s crutches as Sam picked her up in a long one-armed hug and swung her over to the kitchen. He tried to set her down on a pulled out chair, but she stayed glued to his side, her head stuffed into his armpit. Allie couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious that Tulip Boone had developed a crush.

“Sorry, y’all!” Jessa said. “Tootie has something she wants to give to Sam.”

Suddenly filled with shyness, Tulip left his side long enough to stuff her hand in the pocket of her pink sweatpants and pull out a leather cord with a shark tooth tied to the end. She held it up to him. “It’s the tiger shark tooth,” she said. “The one I found in the creek today.”

Sam seemed genuinely touched. He pulled her into his side again. “Can you put it on me?” He sat in the chair, and she hopped on one foot to the spot behind him.

“Tiger sharks are the only sharks that don’t have taste buds,” she explained. “A great white or a bull shark might take a chunk, but then they’re gonna let you go. They think humans taste nasty. But a tiger shark is the most dangerous because it’s gonna eat every last bit, right down to your fingernails. People don’t normally survive tiger shark attacks.”

“That is an awesome piece of trivia.” Sam chuckled as she tied the cord into several knots behind his neck. “And you are super smart.”

“Yeah.” She blushed. “Mama chose our daddies because she wanted me to be smart and she wanted Jessa to be beautiful.”

Jessa smiled and laughingly agreed with the statement, but to Allie, it felt like the air in the room suddenly vibrated.

“We’ve never met them,” Tulip added as if it was a normal thing to say.

Sam’s eyes were on Jessa, probably to judge how he should react before saying, “Well, she did a good job getting exactly what she wanted. Except that I think you’re both smart and beautiful.”

Jessa looked away as Tulip turned red from the neck up. Sam, wearing his prehistoric shark tooth necklace, stood for a third hug. “Thank you,” he said, squeezing her tight.

“Okay, y’all!” Jessa reverted back to her peppy self. “We’re gonna let you enjoy your evening. Toot’s got to get ready for school tomorrow, and the morning’s gonna come early. Thank y’all again for your help today.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Tulip said, clearly not wishing to extricate herself from Sam. He picked her up again and glided her along, her feet just inches off the floor, down the front steps to the passenger side of Jessa’s car. She opened the door, and he gently placed Tulip on the seat. When the car was out of sight, he met Allie on the front porch, his hand wrapped around the pointy tooth on his new necklace.

“I might never take this thing off,” he said.

She was touched that he appreciated it so much. “It’s your reward for being a hero.”

“I’m no hero.” His pitch changed, like her words just hit a soft spot. “If you need more logs for the fire, I stacked some wood outside by the porch.” He turned to leave, and she almost asked him to stay. She wanted to talk about what Tulip had just said. Wasn’t it shocking? Wouldn’t knowing that your mother slept with some man because she wanted a designer baby mess with a person’s head? And did the men even know they had daughters? There was so much to question.

Sam patted his thigh, and together he and Buttercup walked toward the bedroom. “Good night,” he said without looking back.

“Good night.” At least, it used to be a good night. Inadvertently, she had tapped into something deep within him. Something dark.