A Walk Along the Beach Read online

  I closed my eyes and let the wind buffet my face. Even though Harper had been cancer-free for three years, I worried. I couldn’t help it. My sister was everything to me and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Lately, I had this feeling, this sense that things weren’t as they should be with her.

  CHAPTER 2

  Willa

  Once I was back at the apartment, the feeling about Harper refused to leave me. Reaching for my phone, I sent my brother a text, asking him to call when it was convenient. I brewed myself a cup of tea and waited.

  Thankfully, he responded almost immediately.

  “Hey,” Lucas said, “I got your message. What’s up?”

  Now that I had my brother on the phone, I wasn’t sure where to start. Getting right to the point, I blurted out, “I’m worried about Harper.”

  My brother snorted. “When are you not worried about Harper?”

  I knew he’d react this way. Lucas became the rock of our family when our father crumbled. I would much rather have had this talk with Dad, but I knew he would freak out. Dad was incapable of handling negative news without reaching for a bottle. His sobriety was shaky at best, and I didn’t want to give him an excuse to drink.

  “Did you know Harper’s planning to climb Mount Rainier this summer?”

  Lucas took the news calmly. “Cool. If anyone can make it to the summit, it’s Harper.”

  He was right—however, that wasn’t the issue. “I agree, but this follows the bungee jump she did two weeks ago.”

  “And your point is?”

  “I don’t know what my point is,” I confessed, “except this adventurous behavior has all come about in the last few weeks. It seems out of the blue, you know?” Lucas was probably right, and I was making more of this than necessary. Still, it was concerning. He was also right about me fretting over Harper. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Listen, Willa, I get it. When someone comes that close to death, I think they have a certain fire within them to make the most of a second chance. To her way of thinking, these are bonus years and she’s squeezing as much out of life as possible while she can. I don’t blame her; I’d probably do the same thing.”

  “She ate fried bugs.” I cringed as I said it.

  “Harper? She won’t eat green beans.”

  Despite my concern about our little sister, I laughed out loud. “I know, I couldn’t believe it either. She went to this Indonesian restaurant in Seattle with one of her friends and fried bugs were on the menu, and she went for it.”

  “She survived.”

  Lucas was right. “I know what you’re saying, and I agree, but mountain-climbing and bungee-jumping? You and I both know how afraid of heights she is, and yet she made herself do it. Leesa told me Harper was so afraid she threw up before she jumped.” My sister seemed to be facing her greatest fears and I didn’t understand what was driving her, especially now. What if she knew something I didn’t? That possibility had thrown me into a tailspin. When I mentioned this to Lucas, the phone went silent. “Did you ask her?”

  “Of course. I’ve tried to talk her out of climbing Mount Rainier, but she won’t hear of it. It’s like she’s flirting with death. Something’s going on with her, but she tells me I’m imagining things. She said if she had a death wish she wouldn’t have fought so hard to win the battle against leukemia.”

  “She has a point.”

  “I know, but Lucas, my gut is telling me something is up. Like the fact that she doesn’t stay in any relationship for more than a few weeks. That girl has left a string of broken hearts from here to Canada and back.”

  Again, Lucas paused, as if taking it all in. “Maybe I should talk to her. Where is she now?”

  “Training to climb Mount Rainier. She’s going with a group of other amateur climbers and they have a rigorous training schedule. She’s out every evening strength- and endurance-building, and that’s after teaching several classes during the week.” Little wonder she had the figure of a model.

  “Okay, I get it. I’ll make a point of coming to visit this weekend. I haven’t seen Dad in a while. Have you?”

  “Yeah. I had him over for dinner last Sunday.”

  “How is he?”

  “About the same, I guess.” I wasn’t sure what to tell my brother. It was difficult to know with our father. He hid his drinking well. For a long time, I didn’t realize how much he’d come to rely on alcohol.

  “I’ll bring Chantelle with me.”

  My spirits lifted. I loved Chantelle. She was good for my brother, who worked as a longshoreman on the Seattle docks. Chantelle and Lucas had been dating for two years. I didn’t know why Lucas hadn’t proposed. I’d asked him about it once and got the message this was his business and I was to butt out.

  “Would you like me to cook dinner?”

  “No, that’s too much work.”

  I appreciated my brother’s thoughtfulness. He knew I set my alarm clock for three-thirty and was at Bean There by four each morning. It’d only been in the last three months that I was grossing enough to hire another baker. Having Shirley take over some of the early-morning responsibilities gave me leeway, and I was grateful. I opened at five and had a steady stream of customers from the moment I unlocked the front door.

  “I’ll stop off and check on Dad, too.”

  “He’ll be glad to see you.” None of us ever doubted our father’s love. He’d been a lost soul since Mom died. She’d been the love of his life. We all missed her dreadfully. Our mom was the best mother in the world. Sort of a modern-day June Cleaver from the 1950s sitcom Leave It to Beaver.

  “I appreciate being able to talk to you about this, Lucas.”

  “I’m grateful you reached out. Don’t ever worry that you’re bothering me or that I can’t handle it.”

  “I don’t. You’re my rock.”

  It was Lucas I’d turned to when Harper’s health had started to go south. At the time he’d been in the military, serving in the Army as an Airborne Ranger. He’d planned to make the military his career. Everything changed when we learned Harper had leukemia. It’d all started so innocently with a bad case of hives.

  Hives.

  Who would have even suspected those hives were an indication of something far, far worse? Dr. Bainbridge was the local physician at the time. We all assumed Harper had some food allergy. I was allergic to strawberries and it made sense that Harper must be, too, even if it didn’t show until she was a high school senior. But the hives persisted, and my sister was irritable and uncomfortable. When I took Harper back for a second visit, Dr. Bainbridge seemed to think she might have mononucleosis. We teased her and asked who she’d been kissing. Miserable as she was, Harper didn’t take kindly to the joke. Next, Dr. Bainbridge ordered a full set of blood work, and that was when everything changed.

  Even now, nearly three years later, I would always remember the day when the call came. Harper had recently graduated from high school and planned to spend her summer working at a local church camp. Our pastor, Heath McDonald, had written her a glowing recommendation the year before, and Harper was great with the junior-high kids. They’d loved her. The camp was thrilled to have her back and she was just as eager to return.

  Dr. Bainbridge gave the news to me instead of our father, knowing I would handle it better than Dad. He said the test results showed Harper had leukemia and that we needed to get her to the University of Washington Medical Center in Seattle as soon as possible so she could be assessed.

  Harper was as shocked as we were. We clung to each other the same way we had the day our mother died, weeping, afraid, uncertain of the future. Harper pulled it together before me, asked what she needed to do, and immediately packed a bag and asked that I go with her to Seattle. I don’t think I’ve ever admired my sister more than I did that day.

  Our entire world was turned upside down that
summer. Lucas was due to reenlist and instead gave up what he’d hoped would be a promising career in the Army. He got an apartment in Seattle and the two of us lived together while I finished up my business classes online. Harper was in bad shape and she needed our support.

  Dad came by to visit every now and again. Seeing his youngest daughter deathly ill was more than he could endure. His visits usually resulted in tears and pleading with Harper not to die, as if she had any real control over the outcome. She was desperately ill. Worse than we could have imagined.

  “Willa? Are you there?” Lucas asked, cutting into my thoughts.

  “Yes, sorry. My mind drifted there for a minute. I was remembering when we first got word of how sick Harper was.” Our sister had come face-to-face with death and walked away a winner. Lucas was right. I was overreacting. If Harper wanted to live an adventurous life, then who was I to question her? Even knowing I had no control over the future, I couldn’t help being concerned.

  “I’m afraid for her,” I admitted, lowering my voice. I couldn’t help it. I felt responsible for keeping a close eye on her and her health. Last winter when she’d gotten the flu, I’d watched her like a hawk. Harper had gotten angry with me and insisted I leave her to her misery.

  “You’re such a worrywart,” Lucas joked, lightening my mood. “Harper is fine. She’s not showing any signs of a recurrence, is she?”

  “I…I don’t think so.” I knew what to look for—at least I thought I did.

  “When was her last blood test?”

  “A few months ago. Her next one isn’t until July.” Only a month away. I dreaded each one, barely slept the night before, and then breathed easier when everything showed Harper remained in remission. My stomach tightened. I wished this feeling, this sense of foreboding about my sister, would go away so I could let go of my worries, but they persisted.

  “Then it’s coming right up,” Lucas said. “That should put your mind to rest.”

  Then and only then would I be able to let go of my concerns.

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you and Chantelle.”

  We spoke for a few minutes longer, deciding on the time and what restaurant. When we ended the call, I felt better. Bouncing my fears against Lucas had a calming effect on me. He always knew the right thing to say.

  Although it was still light out, following my talk with Lucas, I headed for bed. I was still sitting up and reading when Harper returned from her training session. My bedroom door was open. With sweat beading her forehead and a hand towel around her neck, she leaned against the doorjamb, breathing heavily.

  “That was a killer workout,” she said, loudly exhaling.

  I ignored her choice of words. “When’s the climb scheduled?”

  “August twenty-second. We’ll do a practice climb to Camp Muir. If I can’t make it to Camp Muir, I won’t be allowed to go the following weekend. That’s why I’m training this hard.”

  “You’ll be ready.”

  “I’m ready now.” Her face, already red from exertion, reddened more with excitement. “Imagine climbing Mount Rainier. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” She wiped her face with the towel. “I’m heading for the shower and then bed. See you in the morning.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Because I left the apartment early, Harper stopped by for coffee on her way into work at Oceanside Fitness. Her first class was at eight. She taught yoga at nine and another exercise class at ten three days a week. She had a break then until the afternoon. The woman was a machine. No one drove themselves harder than my sister.

  “Are you turning the light out soon?” she asked.

  “Another fifteen minutes.” It was far too easy to fall into the trap of staying up late. I had to set a rigid bedtime—otherwise, I was worthless come morning.

  “Dream of Sean.”

  “Very funny.” I rolled my eyes. “What you did today wasn’t cool.”

  “Yes, it was. He’s into you.”

  “Hardly.” I didn’t know why my sister would ever say that.

  “Willa, don’t be dense. Of course he is.” She gave me a look that suggested I was a complete idiot. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Surely you noticed?”

  I didn’t believe her for a minute. It seemed Sean had concentrated on his coffee with the same intensity that I had my own. He’d been as uncomfortable as I’d been, and too polite to say anything.

  “I hope you realize you embarrassed us both.”

  My sister shook her head as if giving up on me and headed for our shared bathroom to shower.

  Fifteen minutes later I heard her enter her own bedroom. I set my book aside and turned out the light. It was barely dark out. During the summer months in the Pacific Northwest, it was close to ten o’clock before it went completely dark. I would be sound asleep by then.

  Closing my eyes, I tucked the sheet up close around my shoulders, and instantly Sean’s face came into my mind. I liked him. I wanted Harper to be right, but I didn’t dare allow myself to get caught up in the fantasy.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sean

  I didn’t even like Americanos, and here I was driving into town every day for a cup I tossed after the first few sips. Not that it mattered, I would gladly pay ten times the price of that Americano for an opportunity to see Willa.

  What got me was how beautiful she was without knowing it. She was tall, nearly five-eight, I’d guess, and curvy in all the right places. She wore her straight brown hair in a short bob, parted in the middle, and often looped the ends around her ears. Her dark brown eyes reminded me of a teddy bear. She was warm and friendly and completely unlike other women I’d dated.

  The first time I stopped by Bean There wasn’t for coffee, nor was it the reason I returned. I happened upon it one early morning and I smelled those freshly baked cinnamon rolls. It was the same aroma I remembered from visits to my grandmother’s. I wasn’t thinking of Grams, however, when I first met Willa. One look and I was mesmerized. I’d watched her deal with an unpleasant customer with patience and grace, not allowing the belligerent man to ruffle her. She listened to his complaint, soothed his anger, and treated him with kindness and respect, none of which he deserved. I knew then this woman was special, and I wanted the opportunity to know her better.

  Her sister was lovely, too, but in an entirely different way. Harper was bubbly and outgoing, strikingly beautiful and vivacious. From those handful of times I’d interacted with Willa I recognized her to be an introvert, quiet and intense, yet also sincere and approachable.

  So here I was back again, ordering coffee I wouldn’t drink on the chance of spending a few minutes chatting with Willa. It wasn’t a caffeine fix I needed; it was a Willa fix.

  Today was the day.

  I was determined that this was the morning I would ask her out. Dinner? A movie? Videogames? Basically, I was willing to do or go anywhere that interested her.

  It shouldn’t be difficult. It was what guys did, right? When it came to women, I didn’t usually get tongue-tied and awkward. I’d been in relationships before—several, if the truth be known, especially when I’d played professional baseball. In retrospect, I recognized they had mostly been shallow and empty, based on my fame and the size of my bank account.

  Then I blew out my knee and that was the end of that. Not only did I lose my career in sports, but the woman who I’d assumed was the love of my life went with it.

  That was a harsh lesson and I’d been gun-shy ever since. Nikki was out of my life and had been for three years. I’d pretty much been living like a monk ever since.

  It was time to break out of that mold. Willa gave me hope. She had no idea I’d played professional baseball and wouldn’t have recognized the name Sean O’Malley even if she had. I’d played for the Atlanta Braves for two years, and the biggest splash I’d made, other than a few vital home runs,
was when I injured my knee. Even now I walked with a slight limp.

  Parking my car, I walked over to the coffee shop and nearly changed my mind when I saw there was a long line ahead of me. This wasn’t encouraging. Lines meant Willa had to shuffle everyone along. I did take heart when she saw me. She paused and offered me a shy smile. Playing it cool, I lifted my chin, acknowledging her. It seemed her face was flushed, and while I’d like to think it was due to me, I had to assume it had more to do with the heat from the drinks she served. The woman was a marvel when it came to coffee and baking.

  When my turn came up, I stepped forward until I stood in front of the cash register.

  “Your usual?” Willa asked, offering me one of her signature smiles.

  “Sure thing, and I’ll take one of your cinnamon rolls today.”

  “You got it.” She immediately set to work filling my order.

  It was now or never. “So,” I said as nonchalantly as I could manage. “What are you doing…you know…Are you interested in later?”

  Willa paused and her gaze shot to mine. She looked confused, which was no wonder. I couldn’t have been less clear. I had no hope I’d do better a second time around, so I stood like an idiot and prayed she’d forget I’d said anything.

  “Doing? I’m working…later. We don’t close until three.”

  “Right…good to know.”

  Kill. Me. Now.

  Grabbing my Americano and cinnamon roll, I headed out the door before I made an even bigger fool of myself. I had no clue where the smooth, confident man I’d once been had disappeared to. Willa did that to me. I couldn’t leave the shop fast enough.

  With my heart pounding like a locomotive struggling up a steep incline, I speed-walked across the street to a small park and slumped down on the bench. I felt like a loser. How was it that I could face a raging bull elephant in the Maasai Mara in Africa with no more protection than a camera lens without a qualm? Yet facing a pretty girl and asking her to dinner left me shaken to the core. How had that happened? I had to wonder if Nikki had played a role in that and decided she hadn’t. This was all me and my own insecurities.