The Summer's End (8 page)

“Yes. Please.”

He half smiled and pulled out his phone. Walking to the windows, he conducted a brief phone conversation. Harper waited, wringing her hands, hoping she wasn't overstepping bounds. Mamaw had tentatively agreed to her plan, but this was moving quickly.

Taylor tucked his phone back in his pocket and crossed the room back to her side.

“Says he'll swing by later this afternoon.”

“Great. I'll be waiting.” Again, their eyes met and Harper felt that fleeting sense of something important about to happen.

Just then, a voice shouted from the door, “Taylor!”

Harper blinked with surprise when she saw Carson stride into the room. The woman was transformed. Radiant in a long, white caftan, her dark hair slicked back in a braid, she walked in holding her arms out in welcome to Taylor. Gone was the sleepy, nauseated woman Harper had encountered in the bedroom. Carson's California, beachy look, her glowing tan and brilliant blue eyes, all exuded sex appeal and confidence. Taylor walked directly to her, a wide grin on his face, and hugged her.

Harper turned away and busied herself getting Taylor's glass of iced tea, all the while keeping a hooded gaze on the couple as they chatted. Looking down at herself, she suddenly felt dowdy in her torn denim shorts and tank top. Of course it was her luck to be caught playing Cinderella for the day. But if he'd come yesterday, would it have made much difference?
Not really, she realized. Yesterday she was in jeans, sweating in the garden. Clothes used to matter to her. She was accustomed to New York chic designer outfits and shoes. Polished nails. Hair and makeup styled to perfection. Not a hem hanging, a button loose. Her mother had trained her to always look her best. A safety pin on clothing drove Georgiana to distraction.

Harper brought her hand up to push back a wayward lock. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to the hairdresser. Or put on a sleek dress, spiky heels, and smoky eye makeup. She glanced at her nails. She desperately needed a manicure. She shrank into herself, wondering again who she was. It seemed the more she discovered herself on the inside, the less she recognized herself on the outside.

Carson said something that made Taylor laugh. Harper glanced over quickly, surprised at how the taciturn man appeared more relaxed now. With Carson. Harper turned back to add ice to the glass. The high hum and clinking of ice from the fridge set her teeth on edge.

Nate strolled into the kitchen, an electronic game in his hand. He wore his usual T-shirt and soft, baggy shorts, skinny legs sticking out from them like toothpicks. He casually looked up, then stopped short to stare at the mess, momentarily confused by the state of the room. Then he saw Taylor, and his scowl lifted to a bright smile.

“It's you!” he called out, pointing to Taylor.

Taylor turned and grinned at seeing the boy. “It's me!”

Nate hurried to his side but stopped a few feet in front of him, his arms at his side, eyes wide and appealing. “Did you bring your games?”

“Sorry, pal. Not this time.”

Nate scrunched up his face in disappointment.

“How are you?” Taylor asked.

“Good.”

“Me, too.”

Nate tilted his head, curious. “So what are you doing here?”

“I'm here to see Carson.”

Nate considered this. “Are you going to marry Aunt Carson?”

Carson barked out a laugh.

Harper swung her head around.

Taylor took the question in his stride. “Why would you think that?”

“On account of she's going to have a baby and I was wondering if you're here to be the daddy.”

Taylor's gaze slid to Carson.

Carson slipped her palm on her cheek, speechless.

“You're having a baby?”

Carson dropped her hand and shrugged. “Yep.”

Harper watched Taylor digest this news and was relieved to see him smile in genuine pleasure. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I'm just getting used to the idea,” Carson said breezily. Then she launched into the story of how she'd been in the pool with Delphine and how the dolphin had been persistently echolocating on her belly.

“You were diagnosed by a dolphin?” Taylor summed up with a short laugh. “Classic.”

“I know, right? Gotta admit it's a great story. I can use it at parties for decades.”

Nate tugged Taylor's shirt. “Is Thor here?”

“Sure is. He's out on the porch.”

“Can I go see him?”

“He'd like that.”

“Will he remember me?”

“Sure. He'll be glad to see you again. Go on out and keep him company.”

“Okay.” Nate took off like a shot.

Carson smiled. “A boy and a dog. Another classic.”

“Iced tea's ready,” Harper called out. She set out a tray with two tall glasses of sweet tea, lemons, and sugar cookies.

“Thanks,” Taylor said, trying to catch her gaze.

Carson said, “Let's go out to the porch. There's no place to sit in here.”

Taylor turned to Harper. “Are you coming?”

Harper smiled, pleased at his invitation. “If I'm not interrupting . . .”

“You're not interrupting!” Carson exclaimed. “The more the merrier.”

They were just leaving when Mamaw entered the room.

“Girls!” she sang out in a high voice reserved for guests. “Look who's come by for a visit.”

Mamaw stepped aside and everyone fell silent as a smiling—and then suddenly very confused-looking—Blake followed Mamaw into the kitchen.

B
lake!” Carson sounded astonished. Harper could understand her sister's surprise: Blake had not been to Sea Breeze in weeks, though he lived on the same island. Their breakup had not been amicable. Glancing furtively at Taylor, Harper thought this couldn't be more awkward.

“Hey, Carson.” Blake stepped hesitantly into the room filled with people. He was wearing a NOAA polo shirt and carried a computer bag. He glanced around, spotted Harper, and nodded with a quick smile of recognition. “Harper.”

“Hey, Blake.” Harper glanced quickly to Carson, who stood still and silent, her eyes haunted.

Mamaw instinctively moved in to smooth the awkwardness. “My, but there's a party in here!” she exclaimed, arms outstretched. “How wonderful.” She zeroed in on Taylor. “Harper, dear, you have a friend.” She walked toward Taylor. “We haven't been introduced.”

Harper stepped forward as years of training clicked in. “Mamaw, I'd like to present Taylor McClellan. Taylor, this is my grandmother Mrs. Muir.”

“McClellan,” Mamaw repeated, rolling the name over in thought. “Are you related to the McClellan family in McClellanville? I know Sarah McClellan. But, wait, she married so her last name would be different. What was it . . . ?”

“McDaniel,” Taylor replied. “Yes, ma'am, I am. She's my aunt. She married Stuart McDaniel.”

Mamaw's face brightened with the connection. “Of course. What a lovely couple. It's been far too long since I've seen either of them. So you're their nephew. It's a pleasure to meet you, Taylor.”

Taylor stood straighter and took Mamaw's offered hand with a particularly warm smile. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Muir.”

Harper saw Mamaw cock her head in approval of the young man's manners. Harper stifled a smile, thinking maybe all they needed to bring Mamaw out of her funk was a handsome young man to pay her some attention.

“I'm Blake.” He shifted his computer bag to the other hand and stepped toward Taylor for a handshake.

Taylor shook Blake's hand firmly. “Taylor.”

Blake and Taylor were close in height and both deeply tanned from the summer sun, but there the similarity ended. Blake was as lean as bacon, his face long and narrow. He stood in the relaxed stance of an islander with his hands in his well-worn pockets. His dark brown hair was longer than usual and fell in salt-stiff curls around his head.

In contrast, Taylor was broad and muscled. His shirt was ironed,
his face clean shaven. He stood straight and alert in a military stance.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Blake asked Taylor. “You a friend of Harper's?”

“Yes, I hope so.” Taylor smiled briefly at Harper. “But I actually came by to see Carson.”

Blake skipped a beat and his expression grew more guarded. “How do you know Carson?”

Taylor, hearing the hint of an interrogation in the question, stiffened perceptibly.

“Taylor and I got to know each other in Florida,” Carson offered, seeming to find her voice. “At the Dolphin Research Center. He's in town and looked me up. Mamaw, you remember me talking about him.”

“I do, indeed,” Mamaw replied graciously.

Carson walked to Blake, her caftan swooshing against her legs. Harper sensed the tension between them and was sorry for it. Harper had always liked the marine biologist who'd claimed Carson's heart—and the hearts of all the Muir family with his steadfast love for Carson. His rescue of Delphine earlier in the summer had been nothing short of heroic.

“Blake, what brings you here?” Carson asked, an edge to her voice, her tone unwelcoming.

Blake's eyes flashed briefly, then he took a step back. “I had some news about Delphine,” he said coolly. “But we can talk later.”

“Delphine?” Carson went for the hook. “What about her?”

“I don't want to interfere with your . . . reunion. I should've called first.”

“Is she all right?”

Blake paused to meet Carson's gaze. “Yeah.” His lips suppressed a smile as he offered her a loaded glance. “She's more than all right.”

Harper watched as the two shared a long look that spoke volumes and made the rest of them feel like voyeurs to witness it.

Carson turned to Taylor. “I'm sorry, Taylor, but this is important. It's about Delphine, the dolphin I told you about. Can I be terribly rude and ask you to wait a bit longer?”

Taylor inclined his head toward the porch. “No problem. I just came by to say hey. I've got to run. The dog and all.” He glanced at Blake, then turned to leave.

“I'll walk you out.” Carson walked to Taylor and slipped her arm in his. She offered him a brilliant smile that melted the awkwardness. “Seems the least I can do.”

Harper stood by the door, still holding the tray of iced teas and feeling very much the fool for it.

Passing her at the door, Taylor offered a smile. “Nice to meet you, Harper.”

She looked in his eyes, pulsing with warmth. She wanted to say something . . . anything . . . but couldn't.

When Carson drew near, she heard Taylor say to her in a low voice, “I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

“You didn't.” Carson patted his arm. “The trouble was there before you arrived. It's a long story.”

Harper stood stock-still after the door had slammed behind Taylor and Carson. She squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed for the gush of romantic feelings that had been roiling inside her since she'd met Taylor McClellan. Enough, she told herself. No more dreaming.
It was time to put away childish thoughts and focus on tasks at hand. She had a job to get, an apartment. She had to make plans to return to New York.

She turned and walked resolutely across the kitchen. Mamaw and Blake were struggling to keep up some semblance of polite conversation while Carson was out.

“Care for some tea?” Harper asked Blake and Mamaw.

They each took a glass with thanks. Harper heard her phone ding and, setting the empty tray on the counter, quickly checked it.

It was a message from her mother.

After making her excuses and retreating to her bedroom, Harper closed the sliding doors and sat on the four-poster bed. Her mother's terse query asked why Harper hadn't responded to her mother's e-mail from the previous week, checking in on Harper and where she stood with her return plans. Harper groaned inwardly, knowing she couldn't keep putting her mother off. She hadn't spoken to her since their blowout on the phone back in May. She was sure her mother had been waiting for her to come crawling back to New York. As the days flew by, however, and Harper remained on Sullivan's Island, it brought Harper a smug pleasure that her mother had reached out first.