He rolled his head, supported by the flotation device. They were still a ways from shore. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll get there,” she said, swimming with a strong kick.
“I remember the time you saved Randy McGinnis at the yacht club. I was very impressed.”
“What?” She turned toward him, her eyes flashing. Why did he get the feeling he’d just pissed her off?
“I never met anyone who saved a life before,” he continued. “I guess that’s two in your column.”
She didn’t respond, and he settled back and started to help propel them, using his arms.
“Thanks,” she finally muttered.
When they reached shallow water, he rolled off the flotation ring and tested his leg. It was okay. Painful, but what else was new.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” he asked again, as she stood up beside him and had the temerity to offer her shoulder up under his left arm. He availed himself of it, conscious of how small she was and yet with a backbone as strong as the cane he’d been so desperately trying to jettison from his life.
“Well,” she said as they walked out of the water, the unrelenting pull of gravity weighing him down. “I came to see if I could keep you as a client…and to tell you never to touch me again.”
He stopped and tried to stand on his own.
“Not now. It’s different now.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. It’s just different. I’m not scared of you now.”
That was a slap in the face, wasn’t it? He’d never scared a woman in his life. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t do that again, okay?”
“What? Stupidly swim on my own or—”
“You know.”
“Look, whatever the reason, I’m grateful you came back. You saved my life. Now I owe you an enormous debt,” he said.
“I don’t want you to feel indebted to me.”
Her answer was so irritating. Of course she didn’t want something like that. Who would? He pressed his lips together as they made their way to his towel. He collapsed onto it, grabbing his eye patch and pulling it over his head and into place before meeting her gaze. He was so pathetically vain.
Jessica stood there before him, her T-shirt and khakis dripping onto the sand. She hugged herself and shivered. Her lips were turning blue, and his shame redoubled.
He jumped up, his leg complaining as he put weight on it. “You’re cold,” he said, snagging the towel from the beach and shaking out the sand in one motion. He draped it around her shoulders, gripping the edges as he pulled her a fraction closer.
He looked deeply into her eyes. Today they were the color of the bay—an angry gray. “I have this feeling, Jess, that you are here to annoy me for some higher purpose,” he said in a gruff voice, too many emotions too close to the surface.
“Higher purpose?” she said in a shivery voice. Her bottom lip trembled, and he pulled the towel closer around her shoulders. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her warm.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I think you’re good for me.”
Her eyebrows reached for her hairline. “How? By daring you to climb the steps to the top of the lighthouse? God, I don’t like you very much, but I don’t want to be the reason you kill yourself.”
He stepped back. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know. You were just being stupid. Were you being stupid that time you told those stories about me? Or when the football team called me a slut in public? Because those stories hurt me. So, let’s be clear, I’m not here to save you or redeem you. I’m here to build you a house.”
She stood there, the picture of a pissed-off woman, staring at him, water droplets trickling over her pale skin and spiking in her eyelashes. She was trembling, but whether from anger or cold he couldn’t tell.
And he was utterly confused by what she’d just said.
“What stories?” he asked.
She shook her head. “The ones about me and Colton.”
“What? I didn’t make up any stories. I—”
His explanation was cut off when Cousin Sandra hollered from across the lawn. “Topher. Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done?”
He looked up.
Sandra flew across the lawn as quickly as her senior legs could carry her. And right behind came Karen in close pursuit. Ashley and Jackie, each loaded down with towels, followed at a slower pace. And behind this vanguard trailed assorted members of Ashley’s quilting group.
“Topher, are you all right?” Sandra called. “Jackie came into the kitchen hollering about how you were drowning and Jessica was saving your life.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I had a cramp.”
“Good God,” one of the women bringing up the rear said. “Jessica, how could you have risked your life that way? You should have called 911 or something. Don’t you realize that man could have taken you down with him?”
Topher turned toward Jessica with a lifted eyebrow. It was true, what the woman said. In his momentary pain and panic, he had almost taken her down.
“My grandmother,” she muttered. “She doesn’t think I’m terribly capable.”
“She’s wrong about that.”
He tore his gaze away from her and gave his cousins the best smile he could muster as they came flying down the stairs to the beach. He braced for impact as they showered him with hugs.
* * *
Granny descended upon Jessica like the supreme allied commander of the senior brigade. The old woman took the beach and issued multiple orders while the rest of the Piece Makers sprang into action.
Several of the women took Topher off to Rose Cottage, while Granny and Aunt Donna wrapped her in towels and pulled her up the steps and across the lawn toward Howland House, following after Ashley.
“Honestly, Jessica Ann,” Granny said. “I don’t know what you were thinking. You could have died out there. Don’t you have any sense at all?”
Donna patted her back as they made their way through the rear door, up two flights of stairs, and into Ashley Scott’s bedroom on the top floor of the inn.
“Get out of those wet things before you freeze to death,” Granny commanded.
“Um…” Jessica looked from Granny to Donna to Ashley.
“I’ve got something that should fit you,” Ashley said, opening one of her dresser drawers and pulling out a pair of basic gray sweatpants with the word “ARMY” written in black down one leg. A matching gray hoodie sweatshirt followed.
“You’re dripping on the floor, Jessica,” Granny said. “Are you in shock or something? Get out of those clothes.”
It never failed. Her grandmother always managed to make her feel small and stupid. She shucked off the towel and started pulling off her soaked T-shirt.
“Um, why don’t we give her a little privacy,” Aunt Donna said, grabbing Granny by the arm and pulling her toward the door.
Granny tried to evade Donna’s grasp, but Jessica’s aunt was having none of that. “I think we all know your thoughts on Jessica’s decision to save a drowning man, Barbara. Now, why don’t we go downstairs and have a slice of Ashley’s German chocolate cake? I’m sure Jessica can manage to change clothes without us.”