A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,3

threatening storm cloud.

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