them involved a hammer.
What hurt more than the words Cale had spewed at her, though, was that when she’d seen the pain on his face, she’d wanted to be a comfort to him, wanted to help him cope somehow. When she’d come rushing in to try, he’d aimed the ugliness of his feelings at her.
He’d invited her to come with him—for support, she’d assumed—and when she’d tried to offer it, he’d done his best to make her feel like an idiot for ever thinking she could help.
She slowed her pace and glided close enough to the mainland that she could see the city park on the shore. The park was deserted, save a group of three. One grade-school-age girl wearing an outgrown T-shirt sat on a bench next to a plump, grandfatherly man. The girl held a hardcover book and the man a folded-in-half magazine. On the grass close to the shore, several feet in front of them, was another little girl with pigtails coming off the sides of her head. She must have been about three or four years old, and she was enthralled by a flock of ducks on the water near the shore. The grandfather glanced up at her every so often and then returned to his reading.
The pigtail girl stood stock-still, gazing at the birds, seeming transfixed, and then suddenly she ran toward them, her arms out, hollering and carrying on and, of course, causing the ducks to take flight. Stopping just before she reached the edge of the shore, she giggled, looked back at her grandpa, who gave her a stern shake of his head, and watched with glee as the birds congregated farther down the shore. As soon as her chaperone’s attention was fixed back on his reading material, she galloped forward again, intent on disrupting the ducks’ peace.
The girls reminded Rachel of her and her sister when they’d been kids. She, of course, was the one with her nose buried in a book. Noelle was the peace-wrecker.
A gentle slosh of water a few feet behind her kayak made Rachel whip around. As soon as she recognized a shirtless Cale, her peace, like that of the ducks, was shattered. She gritted her teeth, avoided gawking at his bare, very muscular chest and mostly felt annoyed at the intrusion. The little thrill inside her that pulsed faintly but incessantly was obviously just a bad habit, because she was not glad to see him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, returning her attention to the duck-hunting girl, whose grandpa was squatting down next to her, apparently giving her a quiet, caring lecture on the wrongs of scaring the bejeezus out of wildlife.
“Looking for you,” Cale said, working to get his kayak even with hers so they were side by side. He lacked grace and skill with the boat, but he eventually managed it.
“How’d you figure out where to track me down?” She’d hopped on a city bus two blocks from his place, lucking out that it’d been going her way at the right moment. There was no way he could have followed her here.
“The swimsuit you were wearing under your clothes and your previously mentioned love for kayaking,” he said. “Wasn’t hard.”
“Did Buck tell you I was out here?”
“If the old guy wearing the Buck’s Boat Rentals T-shirt and smoking a pipe is Buck, yeah. He rented me the boat, too.”
“What a traitor.” Rachel dipped her paddle in on the opposite side from him and maneuvered her kayak to the left and forward. Away from him.
Cale steered clumsily, but he followed her.
“Why did you track me down?” She didn’t bother to keep any unfriendliness out of her voice. She’d hate to be accused of having no emotions again.
“Oh, you know,” he said flippantly. “Kayak lesson.”
“You need one.” Curving around more so she faced the island side of the bay, she paddled a few vigorous strokes, leaving him momentarily behind. If she thought for a second that she could outpaddle him to the shore and run away before he could catch up, she would go for it, but no matter how much practice she had, he aced her on arm strength. She’d felt his arm muscles up close and personal.
“Rachel,” Cale said, all signs of irreverence gone from his tone. “Quit running away from me. I want to apologize.”
“So apologize,” she said over her shoulder.
She let up for just a few seconds, her arms and shoulders aching from the frantic trip across the bay, and he was