The Wanderer (13 page)

He clicked off and looked at Sarah.

“Who was that?” she asked.
Who do you check in with after you’ve been beat up?

“That guy I told you about—Cooper. The one who has Ben’s place now.”

“Oh? And how old is this Cooper person?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Old.” Then he grinned and winced. “A little older than you, I think. He’s friends with the deputy. He took me out for a hamburger after the Carver game.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” she said. She had gone to that game. She’d been available if he’d wanted a hamburger. “Just where did you meet this Cooper?”

“On the beach, Sarah. I was running Ham and he was at the bait shop. I stopped to ask him what was going on there.”

“And now you’re calling him?”

“He’s friends with the deputy!” Landon stressed. “I didn’t want him to hear about this and go looking for me to see if I’m all right! Jesus.”

“It just sounds very suspicious,” she said.

“Yeah? Well, Cooper didn’t jump me in the shower and bash my face in.” He pulled the ice pack away from his purple cheek and black eye and she closed her eyes and just shuddered. “A senior by the name of Jag Morrison did this. And he’s been threatening me since school started. He was the star quarterback—you should use the term loosely. He can’t throw a pass to save his life, but he was the best they had. He does not like having a junior from out of town slip into his position.”

“How long has this been going on?” she asked, scowling. “I’ve met the Morrisons. I sat with them at a game once.”

“Since about the third or fourth practice. I’ve been holding him off.”

“Why didn’t you
tell
me?”

“Aw, jeez, Sarah, twenty reasons. How about we start with I don’t want my sister talking to the principal or the guy’s parents. I don’t want to hide behind your skirt. And...you’ve been going through your own shit lately. Since we got rid of Derek, you haven’t been exactly...strong. You haven’t been strong—there, it’s been said. I didn’t want to put one more thing on you—especially if I could handle it.”

She pulled the ice pack away from his face. “How about next time you tell me and save your face,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, right. It’s too late to save my face now. And I even have a date for the dance. I guess she won’t want to go now.”

“A date? Who?”

“Eve McCain. The deputy’s daughter. She asked me.” Then he grinned and said, “Ow.” He pressed the ice back against the right side of his face.

She shook her head and tried not to laugh. “We have communication issues,” she pointed out.

“You have communication issues,” he said. “You’re going through the divorce blues and, hey, I get that. I’m kind of going through them, too. Not only did I have to change schools, but that prick didn’t even ask for joint custody or visitation! How do you think that makes me feel?”

A soft smile came across her face. “I let you swear too much,” she said, secretly admitting it gave her enormous pleasure to hear him call Derek a prick. Most of the time she felt just inches from losing it. Landon’s anger sat very well with her. Maybe they should take one evening a week to sit around cursing him, saying every mean and evil thing they could think of. The bastard—breaking their hearts like that.

“Don’t look now, Sarah, but I think it’s too late. At least I know when not to say those things.”

“We have to talk more, Landon,” she said.

“Sarah, you’re the one who hasn’t been talking. When you get more over Derek, we’ll talk more. Look, it’s okay. You’ll get over him. Only a real mean fucker would start dating before the marriage even gets started, so cut yourself some slack.”

Her eyes welled with tears she wouldn’t let fall. She had been forced to be strong on so many levels—her family history, her job, taking custody of a young boy. And all with so few tools at her disposal. When something hit her—like Derek’s cheating—she withdrew into herself. Not good. Not good at all.

“Well,” the doctor said, pulling aside the drape and coming into the exam area. “We’re not seeing any reason to admit you, but I want you and your sister to be on the lookout for symptoms of concussion. The nurse will give you a list of instructions. I know the P.A. asked, but I’d like to hear the answer. Did you get hit in the game?”

He shook his head. “I’m too fast for ’em. I guess I need to get a little faster in the shower.” Then he tried his handsome grin again, and again he said, “Ow.”

The doctor chuckled.

“I can sit up with him tonight, if that’s necessary.”

“I don’t know if that’s required, Mrs....ah,” he looked down. “Dupre.”

“Meet Lt. Commander Sarah Dupre, my big sister,” Landon said. “My keeper. My ball and chain. Coast Guard Search and Rescue. And she’s single.”

He laughed again. “Pleasure,” he said, sticking out his hand toward her. “I’m married, but it’s still a pleasure. And we thank you for all the help you give us here, on the coast and wherever you’re needed.”

“That’s a shame, you being married,” Landon said. “My sister hasn’t been out in a while and you can’t imagine how that impacts my social life.”

* * *

The emotional strain of having Landon hurt left Sarah exhausted. She was afraid she might sleep too soundly to check on him during the night and considered setting the alarm on her cell phone, just to be sure she woke up at least every hour. That turned out to be completely unnecessary—she spent the night on the couch, where she barely dozed.

It brought to mind those days right after she had rescued him from Aunt Frances. He didn’t talk about his experience, but he was so shaken she slept with him every night, holding him close and safe. He never complained, but sometimes he cried in his sleep, his little body trembling in her arms.

Now he was almost a man and she was running out of ways to keep him safe.

She crept into his room at regular intervals, nearly tripping over Ham, although she couldn’t imagine what good it did. How do you hold off a concussion? But his face, beautiful even with bruises and swelling from having taken a beating, fed her soul. He was so childlike in sleep, a little boy in a man’s body, at peace and trusting.

Her. Trusting her.

He had been her priority for ten years. She’d always found a way to put him first and had been fortunate enough to get support from other Coast Guard families and her commanders. But lately? It wasn’t so much the divorce as it was Derek who had kept her completely off-balance. She had failed Landon. He’d been thrown into a new school, put on a new team, bullied and picked on without her being even slightly aware, struck up a friendship with some middle-aged man she knew nothing about...

She was going to have to talk to him about that. But first, she had to get some sleep.

* * *

Morning came with the crunching sounds of Ham and Landon having breakfast. She pried open one eye. Landon sat at the kitchen table, shoveling cornflakes into his mouth while Ham was nose into the big bowl by the back door devouring dog food. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked at her brother.

“I’ll make you a couple of eggs,” she said.

Landon let the spoon rest in the bowl. “Sarah, you slept on the couch in your clothes. You don’t have to make me an egg. If I’d wanted an egg, I would’ve made one. I have a black eye, not a broken arm. I did make you some coffee, however.”

She moved to the table. “Thank God. I’m exhausted.”

“Me, too. I woke up about once an hour. Someone was prowling around my bedroom.”

She leaned on her hand. “You could’ve said something....”

“And ruin your fun?” He got up and poured her a cup of coffee. “I’m going back to bed, though. And I’m locking my door.”

She accepted the cup, blowing on it and taking a sip. “The purple is coming out,” she said, gesturing with her cup to his face. “I mean coming out even more. I think you got a bruise on your bruise.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Landon. This is my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I had no idea you were fighting this problem. I was so caught up in my own....”

Again the spoon rested in the bowl. “Sarah, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want
anyone
to know. I wanted to be able to take care of it myself. It wasn’t until I heard Crawford Downy telling the coach that Morrison has been kicking kids around since fourth grade that I decided the best way to take care of it was to out him. I don’t know if you’ll get this, but there’s a big difference between tattling to the coach or the teacher and just taking him on, publicly. It’s the difference between a billboard and a whisper. Morrison snuck up on me in the shower. He was handcuffed and taken away. I can’t see how he’s going to get out of this one.” He shook his head. “Up until he did that, he was nothing but sneaky shoves and bragging and badgering.”

“But you talked to that guy, that Cooper...”

“Not exactly,” Landon said. “I was out on the beach with Ham, throwing the ball for him, and Morrison and some of his leeches were there, paddleboarding and stuff. They were giving me a little trouble. Not letting me pass. Ham the fearless was hiding behind me. Cooper was out on the deck at Ben’s. He gave a whistle. That’s all. Just to say he was watching. And of course that chickenshit Morrison pulled off the posse. I walked down the beach, ended up at the dock. I just talked to him for a while, that’s all. It was like he knew what was going on before I had to explain anything. He said he’d moved around a lot—he’d been the new guy a lot.”

“Oh,” she said.

“He’s all right, Sarah. Stop worrying about Cooper.”

How would Landon know that? Cooper could be a very manipulative con artist or pedophile. But she knew better than to pretend to be the all-wise big sister. That was usually the kiss of death. So she said, “Sure. Right.”

When Landon went back to bed, she pulled on her rubber boots and red jacket. Ham started wiggling around and snuffling. “Shh,” she said. “Just get your ball!” She hurried to get him out of the house before he woke Landon.

It was a cold, sunny morning but Sarah’s mood was stormy. She wasn’t really processing all the events of the past few months—the divorce, the tension she’d felt working with Derek, the move, the attack on Landon. Crisis was somehow easier to manage than that old impotence of not being in control, not being able to resolve things.

She jogged across the beach, throwing the ball for Hamlet. She didn’t really have a plan until she’d run all the way up the beach stairs to the bait shop, Ham on her heels, and went around the building to the trailer. She knew she might be acting a little irrationally, but she banged on the door. Then she banged on the door again, harder. She could hear him inside, walking. Finally he jerked the door open, wearing only a towel, with shaving cream on half his face, an impressive tattoo covering his right shoulder and running down his biceps. She demanded, “What the hell is going on with you and my brother?”

He frowned at her. “And this must be Sarah,” he said calmly. “Would you like to come inside?”

She stepped back. “Why don’t you just come outside?” she asked, knowing it was a ridiculous request.

“I’m much better at conversation with my pants on,” he said. “Stand by.” He let the door drift closed and was back a moment later with a small towel. “Wipe Ham’s mouth and feet and come inside. I’ll put on some clothes, we’ll talk about whatever has you upset and then maybe I’ll get back to my shower. That work for you?”

Inexplicably, she hated him for being calm. She felt more out of control than ever, yet more determined to be the stronger one. She snatched the towel out of his hand and said, “Get your pants.”

* * *

Cooper gave Sarah Dupre a brief salute. He walked past his galley kitchen and up three steps to his bathroom and bedroom. He closed the door. He leaned on the bathroom counter, looked in the mirror at his half-shaved face and whispered, “Holy crap.” Hot damn! He checked—his tongue was not hanging out but his eyes were a little hot. She was a freaking knockout.

Her hair was short, thick and dark and framed her face in a sexy, provocative way. Her eyes were so big, so chocolate, surrounded by thick, black lashes. Her lips—oh, my God, those lips. Ruby, full, heart-shaped lips that just begged to be...
Stop,
he told himself. She hid her small body under that thigh-length red jacket with a hood and a loose white shirt beneath that, but he could see a shapely form inside. He blinked his eyes closed hard, then checked to see if he was drooling.

Landon hadn’t told him how stunning she was. But then again, how many teenage boys brag about how pretty their sisters are?

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she had her wind up about his friendship with Landon. Now, this was a first. He’d faced off with protective fathers over daughters and even had a very uncomfortable run-in with an ex-husband. There had been an occasion or two when a woman couldn’t decide between Cooper and another guy... But this? A beautiful woman who almost brought him to his knees, angry and upset over his friendship with her little brother? Whoa. He had an urge to call his older sister, Rochelle, and ask her what was happening here. She was no expert, but she was never short on advice.