With that, she was gone, leaving a trail of ice in her wake.
What did he expect? Did he think he could throw her mistake back in her face seconds after telling her it was forgiven and not face consequences? Besides, wasn’t this what he wanted—to be rid of her prying eyes? The distance would be good for him—give him space to sort out his own feelings.
Why, then, did her cold shoulder make him feel like—to quote Louisa—a jerkshovel?
He sighed and went back to work, wishing for the millionth time that things were different.
The ferry left Nantucket at 7:40 a.m. and would arrive in Hyannis about an hour later. That meant one full hour of ignoring every single thing about Cody Boggs. It meant pretending that the way he looked in his uniform had no effect on her. It meant sitting next to him on too-close-for-comfort seats and acting as if she hardly noticed. And it especially meant not drawing in deep, long breaths just to memorize the way he smelled after a shower and a shave.
So far she was doing a terrible job.
“Are you going to do that the entire ride?” he asked with a nod toward her knee, which she only just that moment realized was bouncing like it had a motor hidden somewhere inside it.
She stopped and focused her attention out the window.
When she was a kid, these ferry rides to and from the island were filled with emotion—excitement on the way to the island and sorrow on the way back. Today the ride was also filled with emotion—namely a mix of dread and nervousness. And she was doing her best to hold on to her anger so she didn’t go and fall in love with the man sitting next to her.
“Do you want some coffee?”
She glanced at him and found him sitting so still he looked like a statue.
“Do you drink coffee?”
Why was he being nice to her? It was confusing. If he’d just treat her like a jerk all the time, it would be a lot easier on her heart.
“Lou?” He said her name like they were friends.
They were not friends.
“I do drink coffee,” she said.
“You look like you might need some.”
She frowned.
“You’ve yawned three times in the last five minutes,” he said. “Have you been sleeping?”
She wanted to tell him she was just fine and needed nothing from him, but she really could use the caffeine. And no, she wasn’t sleeping, not that she’d tell Cody that.
“I’ll go get you some.” He stood.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m getting a cup for myself anyway.” He walked away and she noticed two women, probably a few years younger than she was, staring at him.
One of them glanced at Louisa and caught her eye. “You’re a very lucky girl.” She grinned while the other woman raised her eyebrows in agreement.
Louisa went back to staring out the window. She’d always made a habit of scanning the ocean, looking for any sign of life in the watery depths. Sometimes she’d catch the tail of a dolphin or the blowhole of a whale coming up for air. It was in those moments she felt like a little girl again.
She clung to that feeling—life before she learned how cruel life could be.
“Here you go.”
Cody’s voice shook her from her thoughts. She turned and found a cup of coffee offered in his outstretched hand.
She took it. “Thanks.”
He sat back down, and the two women came into view again. One of them smiled and shook her head, as if to say, That man is fine. For a brief moment, Louisa imagined that he was hers, that they were headed off island for a fun weekend in the city, that there wasn’t a mountain of hurt between them, that all the broken things had been repaired.
The thought of it brought tears to her eyes.
“You okay?”
She nodded quickly and took a sip of coffee, purposefully forcing all of this emotion out of her head where it belonged.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CODY MIGHT HAVE LOST HIS FATHER, but at least Daniel hadn’t died a slow, languishing death in a hospital bed.
He’d gone quickly, without warning, snapped off the earth like a precious jewel in the hands of a crafty thief.
Now, walking the halls of the hospital where Jackson Wirth had been since his accident, Cody was almost grateful for that. Yet he hadn’t gotten to say good-bye. That, he would never be grateful for.
“Room 403,” Louisa said. “This is it.”
“Maybe we should’ve met them somewhere else,” Cody said quietly.
“They won’t leave his side,” Louisa told him. “One or both of them is always here.”
The weight of their burden felt heavy on his shoulders.
“Ready?” Her expression softened toward him for the first time since they boarded the ferry.
He nodded as Louisa knocked on the door.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice said from inside the room.
Louisa drew in a breath, then pushed the door open. Cody followed her into the room, where a boy lay in the hospital bed, covered in a lightweight white blanket. Tubes extended from his arms and mouth, hooked to a machine that hummed in a steady rhythm. Artificial breath keeping him alive.
Next to the bed sat a tired-looking woman with a sullen face, and a middle-aged man stood behind her chair. Both of them took one look at Cody, dressed in uniform, and frowned.
“What’s he doing here?” the woman asked.
“Mrs. Wirth, my name is Louisa Chambers, and this is Cody Boggs of the United States Coast Guard,” Louisa said.
“I don’t care what his name is,” the woman said. “I don’t want him here.”
“I can wait outside.” Cody started to turn, but Louisa’s hand on his arm stopped him. He forced himself not to think about how soft her skin was or the delicious vanilla smell of her. He met her eyes, and she quickly turned back to Jackson’s parents.
“We’re so sorry for what you’re going through,” Louisa said.
The woman’s lips drew into a tight, thin line, but the man’s face relaxed.
“Thank you for that,” he said. “It’s been hard.”
“We check in on Jackson’s progress often,” Louisa said.
The woman scoffed. “What progress?” Her eyes flashed, and Cody could see her anger was only a cover for the deep sadness and fear she was feeling. Anger, he often found, could keep a person safe. How many years had he worn that same cloak so he wouldn’t have to feel anything?
He’d been doing so well too, right up until he moved back to the island.
“The doctors aren’t hopeful.” Jackson’s father put his hands on his wife’s shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” Louisa whispered.
“Why are you here?” the woman asked.
Louisa cleared her throat. “Deborah, we’d like to do something for your family, and we wanted to make sure it was okay with you.”
Jackson’s mother didn’t respond.
“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Wirth asked.
Louisa glanced at the chair on the opposite side of Jackson’s bed. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Please,” Mr. Wirth said.
Deborah kept her gaze tightly on her son.
Louisa stilled at Jackson’s side. Cody watched as she studied the boy. “I read that he liked old cars?”