The Summer Wind (20 page)

“Small steps,” Carson told herself, repeating the advice that Dora had given her on the telephone the night before.

The first session with Joan at the Dolphin Research Center was going better than Carson had hoped. They began in the
small classroom, where creative activities with a dolphin-based theme introduced the goals set by Dora and Joan. Dora had spoken with Joan by telephone prior to Carson and Nate’s arrival, and had communicated that she wanted Nate to work on overcoming his guilt over the accident, but also to help him with his interpersonal skills. Joan had formed “Team Nate,” telling Carson that they’d work together to make sure Nate met his goals.

When she handed Nate his schedule, he clasped it firmly and immediately bent over the table to study it thoroughly. Carson could almost hear his sigh of relief at the sight of the schedule, a simple piece of paper that promised him order throughout his day and removed the threat of the unknown.

For most of the classroom session Carson sat along the wall as an observer. From this vantage point, a fly on the wall, she was fascinated to watch Joan slowly, firmly, steadily build on skills that allowed Nate to grow comfortable. She spoke with a warm lilt in her voice that eventually broke through Nate’s reserve. Carson was proud when Nate revealed how bright he was, and how knowledgeable about dolphins. From time to time Joan would turn her head to meet Carson’s gaze, brows raised in surprise that Nate knew the answer to a question.

When the classroom session ended, it was time to begin working with the dolphins. Carson could feel the excitement as Team Nate walked to the front lagoon. He was nervous, but Joan and Rebecca, the dolphin trainer, kept their voices upbeat and cheery, distracting him with questions as they outfitted him in a life preserver.

When they took Nate to the lower dock, Carson went in search of a place in the shade to sit and observe.

She spied a long, wooden bench set against the wall of the trainer’s
building. It sat in the deep shade of a long thatched roof. One man sat there, staring out over the lagoon. He might have been a bodybuilder, his muscles bulging from his black T-shirt. But the rigid posture, the chiseled cut of his chin, the shorn hair, the black sunglasses, and the way he crossed his arms across his chest made her wonder whether he was in the military. He gave off a strong vibe that said
Stay away
. There was no place else to sit, however, and Carson didn’t scare easily, so she walked to the bench and took a seat on the opposite side.

He glanced her way when she sat down and nodded politely in acknowledgment.

“Hi, there,” Carson responded. Then, because she was curious, she asked, “Are you here to swim with the dolphins?”

His lips turned upward in mild amusement. He had a beautiful mouth, she thought, and a strong, straight nose that made her think of Michelangelo’s
David
. As a professional photographer of movie stars and models, she had a habit of noticing and filing away physical details. He was, in fact, stunning in a masculine way. If she were working, she might have handed him her card for an audition.

“You could say so,” he said.

Carson wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. Yes or no, she thought, mildly annoyed. Nor did he offer a rejoinder to keep the conversation going. Curious, and stubborn, Carson refused to let his coolness deter her.

“I’m here with my nephew. That’s him with the dolphin,” she added, pointing to the dock in the lagoon right in front of them. Another group was at the dock at the far right of the lagoon. They appeared to be a family, parents with two young children around eight years of age. “Is that your family?”

He glanced at the family, then shook his head with a chuckle. “No.”

Talking to this man was like talking to Nate, she thought. Except this man wasn’t family or nine years old, and she certainly didn’t have to deal with
his
rudeness. She gave up and pulled out her camera and lens and instead focused on Nate, who was sitting on the dock with his legs in the water. A sleek gray dolphin waited only a few feet in front of him. Carson moved closer, watching through her lens as Nate tentatively put out his hand and gave a signal to the dolphin. In a flash, the dolphin rose high up in the water and toggled back on his tail in an impressive show of strength and agility. Rebecca blew her whistle and Team Nate released a hearty cheer for the dolphin and Nate. In the close-up view of the lens, Carson saw the boy’s eyes light up and a huge grin ease across his face. Carson snapped a quick shot to capture the moment, then put her hands to her mouth and fired off a whistle.

She was still smiling when she returned to the bench.

“Nice whistle,” the man said, his lips twitching in a grin.

She glanced at him and, feeling happy about Nate, said with a cocky air, “Thanks.”

After a pause, he spoke again. “Is this his first time with a dolphin?”

Surprised the man was initiating a conversation, Carson half turned to face him. His gaze was on the water, but she sensed that behind those sunglasses he was watching her every move.

“No. He’s spent a lot of time with a wild dolphin by our house in South Carolina.”

He turned his head, suddenly interested. “You’re from South Carolina?”

“I was born there. But I spent most of my life in California.”

“Whereabouts?”

“LA.”

“No, I mean where are you from in South Carolina?”

“I was born on Sullivan’s Island. But I lived in Charleston as a girl. On East Bay,” she said, dropping the name of the tony street in town. “We spent summers at my grandmother’s house on Sullivan’s. That’s where I’m living now.”

“Sullivan’s Island is a pretty spot,” he replied, unfolding his arms to stretch one over the top of the bench. It seemed their mutual South Carolina connection had somewhat loosened the tense guard he kept around himself. “We used to go there sometimes, to the beach. My family lives not far from there. In McClellanville.”

“Oh, sure, I know McClellanville. A real pretty spot right on the water. Where the shrimp boats are, right?”

“What’s left of them.” He leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee. “My dad was a shrimper. He had to get out of the business, though. Like most of the boats.”

“Is that where you’re living now?”

“No, I live hereabouts. But I’m thinking of heading back home. When I’m ready.”

Carson wondered about that comment but didn’t want to pry. She didn’t get the sense this was a man who gave out personal information readily. “So, we’re neighbors,” Carson said, glad for the icebreaker.

“Almost,” he added drily.

“We’re just down here for the week,” she said. “Nate, that’s my nephew, came down for the Pathways program.”

“He’s working with Joan?”

Carson tilted her head, curious that he knew Joan.

“That’s right.”

Again, he only nodded, not divulging any more information. There followed another long silence during which they watched Nate giving more commands to the dolphins, to the loud cheers of the team. Carson whistled and clapped in support of Team Nate. After a final rousing cheer, the team climbed to their feet and began gathering supplies. The session had ended.

Carson rose to her feet as well and stooped to gather her camera equipment and pull out a towel from the huge canvas bag. She turned again to the man on the bench.

“It was nice talking with you. I’m Carson.” She reached out her hand.

He took it readily and returned a firm shake. “I’m Taylor. Nice to meet you, too. He seems like a good kid,” he added, motioning toward Nate.

The compliment filled her with pride. “He is.”

T
he following morning’s wake-up call was sharp raps on the door and the rallying call “Rise and shine!”

Dora threw her pillow at the door. “Go away, Harper!”

“Delivery!”

Despite herself, Dora smiled. Harper had moved into Carson’s room while Carson was away, but despite the fact they weren’t roommates, she was making a concerted effort to get closer this week. Dora was moved, even flattered, by her little sister’s persistence. Feeling a boost of energy, she kicked off her cotton blanket and walked across the room to open the door.

“What are you . . .”

Harper wasn’t there. On the floor in front of the door lay a shoe box and a shopping bag. Dora picked up the parcels and carried them back to the bed. She sat on the bed beside the loot, feeling a bit like it was Christmas in July. Inside the shoe box she found a new pair of walking shoes, the fancy
brand that Harper wore. Dora ran her fingers across the white shoe with the pink trim to check the size—perfect. Excited now, she dug into the bag and gasped as she pulled out a pair of white stretchy running shorts, a running bra, and a pink-patterned tech running shirt. She checked the tags and her mouth slipped open at the prices. These were from the upscale company from which Harper purchased her athletic clothing. And . . . Harper had selected them in Dora’s favorite pink color.

Dora held up the shirt, then set it back on the bed. Looking at the clothes, she felt a little embarrassed. Did she look that bad in her old T-shirt and shorts? Lord, Devlin saw her in them. Maybe she didn’t want to look all fashionable when she exercised, she thought mulishly.

Looking at the clothes, Dora knew that wasn’t true. She’d just never been involved in an exercise program before and didn’t know what to pick out. She’d always been a tad jealous when she saw women jogging by in their athletic gear.

Stapled to the bag was a handwritten note:
Meet me out front at 7 sharp!

Dora glanced at her alarm clock. It was ten before seven. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Dora peeled away her pajamas and slipped into the new running clothes. She sighed with relief when everything fit. Before she left she quickly checked her reflection in the mirror. The woman in the reflection didn’t look the least bit dowdy in old gym shorts and her husband’s baggy T-shirt. Dora felt buoyed by the sporty look and hurried out of the room with a spring in her step.

Harper was waiting for her with a bottle of water.

“Look at you!” she exclaimed as Dora trotted near.

Dora ran straight to Harper and delivered a big hug. “Thank you, thank you! I love them. But it’s too much. My Lord, I could buy an evening gown for what these cost.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s nothing,” Harper said, waving away the comment. “I have a back debt of birthday presents, so consider this an installment. I enjoyed picking them out.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Save your energy. We’re losing daylight. I’m going to teach you a few stretching exercises that you need to do every morning before you head out. You don’t want to get any injuries. Okay, ready?”

As much as she enjoyed the stretching, Dora enjoyed doing them with Harper more. Harper took Dora through the routine. Then, with a wave and a wish of luck, Harper took off. Dora watched her trot away, her ponytail bouncing perkily from left to right, and sighed, guessing Harper would probably run some five miles.

Undaunted, Dora took off on her own path.

Carson was surprised to see Taylor standing by the front lagoon again this morning. He turned his head and half smiled as she strolled up.

“You stalking me or something?” he said with a grin.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I’m doing.” Carson settled the gear she carried for Nate on the bench under the thatched roof and took a seat. She looked out over the lagoon. A young woman in a bright blue rash guard and swimsuit sat on the dock in front of two young dolphins. Beside her was a blue cooler filled with
fish that the dolphins kept their eyes on. Taylor and Carson watched the trainer put a pair of dolphins through their paces. The morning was punctuated with short blasts from her whistle and her high voice of praise for the dolphins. An older couple and two young children, probably grandchildren, lined up along the lagoon to watch. The little girl was enthralled, clapping her hands whenever the dolphin performed its task.

“Where’s Nate?” Taylor asked.

Carson was impressed that he’d remembered her nephew’s name. “He’s with Joan in the classroom. I’m supposed to butt out for a while so they can work in private. I worried that Nate would have a meltdown when she asked me to leave, but nope. Not a whimper. I’ve been relegated to pack mule.”

“Joan’s like that. Everyone falls under her spell. You mentioned he’s in the Pathways program—Nate has special needs?”

Carson widened her eyes a bit. Clearly someone was feeling chattier today. “Nate has Asperger’s, which is a high-functioning autism. He’s very smart,” she hurried to add, “but he’s become withdrawn lately and we’re hoping this program will help him open up more.”

“It will,” Taylor replied.

She shot him a quick glance, wondering about his certainty. “I hope so. But my biggest worry now is just getting Nate into a routine. He’s not very flexible. We narrowly avoided a serious meltdown when we arrived, but I slaved over making a new routine for him.” She laughed lightly. “I feel like Suzy Homemaker. I’ve got pictures posted all over our room and I put a schedule on the fridge—complete with shiny stickers for effort. It’s written in stone what time we get up, when we eat, our toiletry habits, and what time we go to bed.”