Something To Treasure. Virginia McCullough
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the engine. She quickly drove out of the spot without so much as a backward glance.
“See you tomorrow,” he murmured. He walked toward the office he’d rented in the square frame addition behind the marina. Her words about Carrie circled through his mind. Dawn wasn’t the first person to comment on his daughter’s charm, but usually the remarks were just part of casual social banter. Instead, real emotion had seeped into Dawn’s words about Carrie. In an instant, this woman he’d just met had touched his heart. Again. There was something wonderfully sunny about her. Even her hair, which brought to mind sunrises he’d seen all over the world, matched her personality.
Shaking his head, he whispered, “Not good, not good.”
* * *
DAWN TURNED DOWN Night Beach Road and pulled into Lark’s driveway. Not so long ago, Lark had lived in this compact cottage on the shore with her son, Evan. Not anymore. After marrying Miles last fall, what had been a small home for two was transformed into a large office—and a guest house when needed. Lark and Miles had bought a large waterfront home down the block, which led Lark to joke about her short commute. So many changes in her best friend’s life, Dawn thought, and she’d been right there with Lark personally and professionally.
She knocked on the cottage door before pushing it open and calling out, “Hey, Lark, I’m here.”
“Come on in,” Lark said. “Give me a second. I’m finishing up one last paragraph.”
Dawn spent much of her work life on the road seeing clients in their offices or shops or meeting with graphic artists, media professionals and visitors’ center staff throughout the region. On the other hand, Lark spent most of her days sitting at her computer writing articles on health care and parenting—and enjoying herself every bit as much as Dawn thrived on being on the go.
Dawn dropped her shoulder bag on the couch and shrugged out of her coat. Instantly at home in Lark’s cottage, she sniffed the air and immediately recognized the scent. Hazelnut. Lark knew it was one of her favorite coffee flavors. The pot and mugs were already on the coffee table.
“There,” Lark said. “The end... Well, not quite. It’s the end of the first draft, anyway.”
“The wordsmith is done for the day?”
“Not exactly. One interview to go. How about you?”
Dawn frowned, needing a minute to think. “Two strategy sessions on the phone.” She glanced at her watch. “I almost forgot.”
“Hmm... Is that because you’re preoccupied with your new client?” Lark asked in a light tone. “How did you describe him again? Good-looking, super fit, interesting, an adventurer. What more could a woman want?”
“Let’s put available at the top of that wish list.” Dawn made an effort to keep her voice light. “I met Melody today, who could be his much younger partner, as well as the little girl’s nanny. Hard to tell. And then there’s Wyatt.”
“Wyatt?”
“She’s one of his crew, but maybe she’s his girlfriend.” She threw up her hands. “I know next to nothing about the man’s private life. Matter of fact, I don’t know all that much about his business yet, either. We’re meeting tomorrow, so I expect to pick up more of the flavor of what he does.”
Lark came out from behind her desk, tablet in hand, and sat in one of the reading chairs in what had once been the living room.
“There’s something closed off about him, though,” Dawn said, thinking about his somber expressions. “He mentioned losing his wife, and that’s as far as it went.”
There was more to it than that, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Seeing Jerrod’s daughter only reminded Dawn of a recent painful memory. On Sunday, when she’d stopped to pick up Gordon, Bill had opened the front door and stepped back so she could come inside the entryway. Snug in his arms, Zinnie was happily gnawing a teething ring. Bill had shared a light laugh with Dawn when the baby shyly hid her face in Bill’s shoulder in the presence of a stranger. Then Carla came to the foyer. She nodded tersely and lifted the baby out of Bill’s arms and walked away. Fortunately, Gordon had been ready to leave, so she could escape Carla’s icy way of ignoring her.
Gordon had been unusually talkative on the drive home, telling her stories about bowling with his dad on Saturday. Just the two of them.
“Earth to Dawn.” Lark waved her hand. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry. I was thinking about the conference,” she lied. She quickly changed the subject to the appointment with Ian and the need for graphic design. All business, all the time. Much as she loved running her firm, she hadn’t planned to spend her thirties living quite like this.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Jerrod and his crew,” Lark said. “Aren’t you glad you and Bill did some diving years ago? You start off with a good understanding of what he does.”
Dawn nodded and fidgeted with the pages of her planner. “That was tropical diving.”
“I suppose you’ll go on a dive with him, so you can see the Franklin Stone and the other one. What is it again? The Alice Swann?”
“Listen to you,” Dawn teased. “Already up on the shipwrecks.”
“Just doing my job. I got the names from the notes you sent and I came up with a few ideas for the copy. How early do you think he’ll go for a trial run—trial dive, I should call it? In May?”
Dawn glanced down and consciously stopped her fingers from continuing to nervously ruffle the page of the planner. She looked up only to see Lark peering into her face. “What?”
“What, indeed,” Lark said. “What’s bothering you? I can see you’re not yourself.”
She couldn’t deny she was troubled. “I guess I’ll tell you my secret. I have to tell someone.”
Lark leaned forward in the chair. “You can trust me. You know that.”
In the past few years Dawn had almost no occasion to think about her bad experience. Even hearing about Jerrod’s business hadn’t brought it back, other than in an abstract way. Now that a diving business was not only in town, but the owner was her client, her fears had returned in a bigger way than she’d expected.
“Bill and I went to a diving class at the YMCA down in Bratton so we could have our certification when we visited St. Croix. Gordon was only three years old, and he stayed with Bill’s parents while we went away for a few days over Christmas break. Bill was still teaching math at the middle school then.” Was it really necessary to go into all that? Probably not, but she hadn’t known Lark then. “Anyway, we did some snorkeling and then we did two dives, which were okay.”
“Just okay?”
Dawn nodded. “Bill loved it, but I was a little afraid all along.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples as if she could massage away the memory of the rising fear. “On the third dive I panicked. I thought I didn’t have any air and couldn’t breathe. I lost sight of the guide, had no sense of where I was. We were well within the water depth that matched our certification, but I did everything wrong. I flailed around and held my breath. Bill saw what was happening and alerted the guide and the two of them surfaced with me.”
“Oh, that sounds awful. And you didn’t dive again?”
“Absolutely not, and I have no desire to. Zero. But I don’t like being afraid of anything. That’s what bothers me.” Even the aftermath hadn’t been pleasant. The panic hadn’t easily subsided once she knew she was safe. For weeks she’d had dreams of being suffocated. Irrational, crazy stuff. Bill would shake her awake, quick to reassure her she wasn’t drowning. It was all a bad dream, start to finish.
Lark frowned. “But Dawn, we had that weekend trip in Florida with the boys just three years ago. We took them snorkeling. You were fine. At least you seemed okay.”
“Oh,