Honeysuckle Bride. Tara Randel

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      Only the man who saved her life, an accusing voice taunted. Angry with herself for losing sight of Bridget in the first place, she bent down to pick up the man’s ball cap. Shaking off the sand, she took a step closer, intending to return it to him and take over the job of comforting Bridget. But before she could intervene, the little girl rose and launched herself into the stranger’s arms.

      The man fell backward to the ground, taking the brunt of the fall while he protected Bridget. As the dog began to bark again, he glanced up at her and Jenna’s gaze tangled with the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. A slight frown marred his forehead, but it didn’t detract from his handsome face.

      Abby, in tears, ran over to hug her sister. Bridget let go of the man to return her sister’s hug. He rose, swiping sand from the seat of his drenched shorts before reassuring his anxious pet with a vigorous rub.

      “I don’t know what to say.” Unnerved by the events, Jenna’s voice choked with emotion. “Thank you, Mr....?”

      “Wyatt Hamilton.”

      She handed him his cap, which he settled on his head. An accusatory glare hardened his eyes.

      Jenna felt an unwelcome flush warm her cheeks. “I would have gotten to her in time, but you moved much faster,” she said, pushing past the tightness in her chest.

      Wyatt looked down at the girls, then back to Jenna.

      “Make sure swimming conditions are safe next time you bring the girls here,” he said, his voice husky, as if seldom used. Anger punctuated his tone. “Next time you might not be so lucky.” He turned on his heel, whistled for the dog and headed back in the direction of the marina.

      Jenna’s mouth fell open. Shock, frustration and fear weighed heavily on her shoulders.

      * * *

      LATER THAT NIGHT, Jenna softly closed the door to the girls’ bedroom, having checked on them for the fifth time. Running her hands through her mussed hair, she walked back to the living room to rejoin Nealy, who sat on the couch waiting for her.

      “Still asleep?”

      “Yes.” Jenna picked up her cup. Despite her still queasy stomach after the day’s events, she took a sip of lukewarm tea and grimaced.

      “Problem?”

      “Too cool.” Jenna nodded toward Nealy’s cup. “Want a refill?”

      “Sounds good.”

      They both moved to the kitchen, Jenna’s motions brisk as she refilled the kettle before setting it on the burner. She reached into a canister for fresh tea bags to replace the used ones she’d just dumped, then leaned back against the counter, fighting against tears.

      “What was I thinking?”

      “Jenna, quit beating yourself up. Bridget is fine.”

      She’d managed to calm both girls down at the beach, then they’d packed up and headed home. After a quick bath and grilled cheese sandwiches, they settled onto the couch with a big bowl of popcorn to watch a favorite Disney movie. The girls stayed glued to Jenna’s side until Nealy arrived later on and Jenna tucked them in for the night.

      “No thanks to me. It’s my job to keep the girls safe. A stranger beat me to it.”

      “You had no idea what would happen.”

      “And that’s the problem. I should have been sure the girls could swim before they went near the water instead of taking their word for it.”

      Nealy paused before saying, “You can’t second-guess yourself.”

      “And why not?”

      “Because you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

      Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “What was Carrie thinking, leaving the girls with me?”

      “She knew you would love them.”

      “I’m finding out that’s not enough.” She threw up her hands. “The only thing I know how to do is cook. Sure, they get three meals a day, but what about the rest? I’ve never been responsible for anyone but myself. When Carrie was alive, I visited or took the girls on a special play date every now and then. I never stopped to consider their day-to-day needs.”

      “I think you’re getting a crash course.”

      She was indeed.

      “It’s only been six months since Carrie died and my heart still aches. She was more of a sister than a friend.” Her voice hitched. “I miss her terribly.”

      Nealy hugged her. “I can’t even imagine,” she whispered.

      Jenna took comfort in Nealy’s presence, drinking in her support.

      “Did I ever tell you how we met?” she asked as she drew back, swiping at her moist eyes.

      “No.” Nealy moved away, giving her some space. “I got the feeling you didn’t like talking about your childhood.”

      “Being in the foster system—it can be tough unless you find a friend.”

      The kettle whistled. Jenna turned off the burner and poured steaming water in both mugs. A slight smile tugged her lips as she remembered her first meeting with Carrie.

      “I’d been at this home for about six weeks when Carrie showed up. Thirteen years old with an attitude.” She chuckled. “Heavy black eyeliner, a couple of piercings and a wardrobe you’d cringe at. One look from her and I figured she’d make my life miserable.”

      “Obviously something changed.”

      Jenna blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip of tea. “She’d been there about two weeks when she got caught sneaking back in the house after curfew. We shared a room and I watched her climb out the window almost every night, but didn’t say a word. Our foster mother, Mrs. Thomas, wanted an explanation, and much to my surprise, Carrie froze. Couldn’t think of a thing to say. What happened to the smart aleck I lived with?

      “Feeling bad for her, I told Mrs. Thomas, who really wasn’t so bad, just overwhelmed, that I’d forgotten my homework at a friend’s house and Carrie offered to get it for me. I’m not sure she believed my story but she let it slide. After she left us alone, Carrie demanded to know why I’d stood up for her. I couldn’t tell her that my heart went out to this brash girl who’d finally showed a vulnerable side, so I said I did it so she’d owe me a favor. Surprised, because I usually stayed away from conflict, and impressed that I’d stood up for her, especially for a price, she walked over to me and held her fist in the air. I finally figured out she wanted a fist bump. It was a bonding moment for us.”

      After that, they’d slowly moved from reluctant allies to true friends. Made wonderful plans for what their lives would become once they aged out of the foster system. For the most part, they’d achieved their dreams, until an accident tore Carrie away from Jenna and the girls.

      “Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mom.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ