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  Humphrey Wilkinson laughed and rubbed his stomach. “Well,” he bellowed, “I said to myself, ‘Humphrey Wilkinson, you’ve done your job, killed your Germans, and soon you’ll win your war. Then you can go home and teach your good ol’ son to do the same.’ ” He patted Russell on the back.

  “Papa,” Russell moaned, blushing like a little girl.

  This time I smiled for real. “Papa”? Oh, please.

  Russell glanced at me and grinned. “As soon as I marry I’ll get up and go join the war in Europe myself. Yes, sir, I will.”

  My happy feelings vanished and I dropped my gaze back to the ground. I wish they’d draft you now. I winced. That was a cruel thought.

  Humphrey’s booming laughter filled the lawn again. “That’s my boy!”

  A late May breeze tickled my neck. For as far as I could see, prissy young ladies and prissy old ladies and prissy middle-aged ladies paraded about as obnoxious men laughed much too loudly. What a wearisome day.

  Debra leaned toward Beatrice and spoke just loud enough for me to hear. “Russell’s always wanted to join the army. Ever since he was a boy, in fact. But his father and I told him he needed to find a wife first.” She smiled and checked to see if I was listening. “Tell me, Beatrice, has Allie had any boyfriends lately? Any young suitors crawling around at your place?” She winked.

  Oh, that does it! Really, do these people have no discretion? I sent visual daggers toward her back.

  “No,” Beatrice said, sipping her lemonade. “She claims she’s too sensible for romance.”

  I had to do something to stop this. Before long, they’d be choosing my wedding dress and discussing names for my children.

  “Beatrice?” I tapped her on the shoulder. “Yes?” She turned around, annoyed.

  I put on my sweetest face and rubbed my forehead. “May I please be excused? I have a terrible headache.”

  “Of course. Just don’t wander far.”

  I nodded and turned on my heel. I could hear them all laughing again at something—Humphrey’s booming voice covering all the others’. I took a final glance at the white mansion on the hill and shuddered.

  “Allie!”

  Someone grabbed my arm. I jumped and whipped around, practically knocking into Russell. I rolled my eyes and pulled my arm away, relieved. “Oh, Russell, you scared me! Could you come with a warning bell or something? I’d like to know when you’re behind me.” I tried to turn, but Russell reached out and touched my arm, startling me in a whole new way.

  Russell wrung his pale, white hands. “I’d like to think I won’t soon need to be telling you. I mean, I’ll still be needing to tell you, but maybe soon you won’t need to be told or you won’t … Oh, Allie, was I being too presumptuous?” He reached out and grabbed my arm again.

  What? I stared at him for a moment, wondering what bad drama he’d seen at the theater last Friday. “By asking to follow me around?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, my love. By making my intentions clear in front of everyone.” He tightened his grip on my arm, his small eyes crinkling in a poor imitation of a lover.

  A woman walked by and raised her eyebrow at us.

  “Russell!” I leaped back, tearing myself from his grasp. I resisted the urge to wipe my arm against my dress. “Russell, I have to tell you —”

  “No!” Suddenly Russell’s finger was pressed against my lip, silencing me. My eyes widened and I stared at him in silence, too afraid to move. “Let me be the first to speak,” Russell cried. I gulped. People were beginning to stare.

  “I mean to marry you, Allie,” Russell proclaimed. “I mean for you to marry me. I mean for us to be husband and wife. To be a family. I mean for —”

  “I don’t want to marry you, Russell!” I slapped his hand away and took a step back, very much disturbed, though I tried to look relaxed and pleasant. “Enjoy the party.”

  I pivoted and practically ran away from him, conscious of the crowd now gathering to watch the spat. Why was my life so complicated?

  When I chanced a look back, Russell was shrugging. “She doesn’t want to rush things,” I thought I heard him say.

  I shuddered. He is a creep. Or incredibly dense.

  “Oh, Allie, there you are. Come here.” Beatrice motioned toward me, acting as if she hadn’t seen me in years. “I want you to say hello to Miss Rachel.”

  Great. Brushing off my skirt, I trudged over to the table where Beatrice and Miss Rachel were sitting. “Good afternoon.”

  Rachel Piper smiled slowly, revealing two rows of even teeth. Then she sighed and patted her gray pompadour. “How are you, Alcyone?”

  “Just fine, thank you.” The back of my leg itched. I lifted a foot to scratch it, careful not to let anyone see. Beatrice especially wouldn’t let me hear the end of it — she’d been trying for years to get me to act “proper.” As I checked to make sure my actions had stayed discreet, my eyes met with a young man sitting across the garden. He smiled at me, his blue eyes crinkling.

  How do I even know they were blue? I’d never seen him before.

  Beatrice touched my arm and smiled. “Rachel was just telling me about the delightful garden party she held last weekend. Would you like to hear, Allie?”

  I fought a grimace. “No, thanks.”

  Miss Rachel raised a pointed eyebrow. “I see,” she said, pursing her lip. “Tell me, Alcyone: have you met my nephew, Samuel? He’s staying with me for the summer.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry.” Oh no. Now I’m going to have to stand here for another half hour and listen to her praise her precious nephew. But something niggled in the back of my mind.

  Miss Rachel raised a gloved hand and waved it. “Samuel! Come over here!” She grabbed my hand, as if afraid I would leave the table at any moment. “You must meet your neighbor.”

  I turned and saw the young man across the garden rise and make his way toward us. Up close, I could tell I was right about his eyes. My head felt pinched. How … how do I know his face?

  “Hello,” he said, extending a hand to Beatrice. “I’m Samuel.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I’ve always said that a new friend is a journey on life’s fresh bend.” Beatrice smiled and turned to say something to Miss Rachel.

  Samuel raised an eyebrow before turning and sticking out his hand. “And your name is?”

  I stared at him in silence. His face … his hair … his eyes … What’s wrong with me? My brain felt fuzzy. Maybe I’m getting a tumor! I gulped, feeling panicked. What are the first signs?

  “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

  I jerked to attention, nearly knocking Samuel’s arm. He had a wry smile on his lips, obviously enjoying my discomfort. “Allie,” I said, avoiding his hand.

  He chuckled and pulled his arm back in. “And, um, are you okay, Allie?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.” I looked around. An escape. I need an escape. “I, uh … I have to go.” I spun on my heel and ran down toward the beach, clutching my notebook to my chest.

  The cold waves lapped against my bare toes. I wiggled them in the sand and smiled to myself. Resituating myself on the rock, I held my drawing away from me and studied it. From the safety of shore, I could still hear people enjoying the party.

  Russell’s nose isn’t quite that big. I bit my lip and erased the nose. With a few quick lines, the problem was solved.

  I looked down at the page again. Maybe a picture of Russell wasn’t quite appropriate next to a page containing a lovely poem about the moon. But it had to fit somewhere. I would not survive this day if I couldn’t take out all my frustration into a horrid drawing of Russell as I saw him.

  “Who’s that?”

  I jumped and looked up. I could just make out a man’s figure from behind my curtain of dark hair. Since when did my hair come loose?

  I pushed the hair aside and saw Samuel standing in front of me. One dark eyebrow was cocked, his mouth crinkling in amusement.

  I glanced down at the caricature and bl
ushed. It certainly wasn’t the most polite portrait to be caught drawing.

  The young man was still smirking. I noticed his trousers were rolled up and his brown hair was tousled from the wind.

  I finally spoke. “Wh-what?”

  “I said, ‘Who’s that?’ ” He pointed at the portrait.

  “No one. No one at all.” I tilted the notebook away from him and tried to scare him off with a withering glare.

  He just smiled and leaned close enough to look over my shoulder. “Doesn’t look like no one. Looks to me like an ugly rich boy. Your boyfriend?”

  I snapped the notebook shut and snorted. “No, thank goodness.”

  “Then your sister’s boyfriend.”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm …” He began strolling down the shore. I saw he was barefoot too. “I’ve got it!” He snapped his fingers and grinned. “Your brother! No, your cousin?”

  I let my mouth raise a little. “Try again.”

  Samuel studied me. “Could he be the reason you left the party? An unwanted suitor perhaps?”

  My eyebrows flew up. I hid my smile and smoothed out my skirts. “No, actually his name was Rumpelstiltskin, but I knew you’d never guess it.”

  The boy smiled, his blue eyes crinkling. “It was on the tip of my tongue.”

  I doubted that. “Sure it was.”

  He swept into an elegant bow. “Honest, my lady,” he said, grinning.

  I rolled my eyes and opened up my notebook again, continuing my sketch of Russell. This time I threw in a few extra touches to make him as prissy as possible.

  “Unfortunately for you, I learned in princess school never to trust the word of a stranger. Especially not bareheaded, shoeless, beach-roaming vagabonds. So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” Even as the words flew out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe it was me saying them. My tone was full of arrogance and rudeness, but could it also be interpreted as inviting? My cheeks flushed. I hoped not.

  “Well then, I shall just have to prove my innocence to you another way.” He motioned to the ocean. “A swimming contest, perhaps?”

  I looked down, straightening my back. “No, actually I don’t swim. Especially not with strangers.”

  “Don’t or can’t?”

  I hated that he was challenging me. “Can’t.”

  He smirked. “Now’s a perfect time to learn.”

  The book was slammed shut again. “Are you crazy? I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “The water’s probably freezing.” Who was this ridiculous …

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I looked up, frustrated, and caught a mischievous gleam in his eye. He was daring me. “I don’t even know you,” I said. The challenge lingered in the air, taunting me. I knew I shouldn’t, but I was too stubborn to resist.

  I followed him to the edge of the water and dipped my toe in. I was right — It was cold. “Beatrice will kill me.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and I knew I had to do it. I shut my eyes and took a step into the water, wincing when the water reached my knees and caused my dress to cling to my legs. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

  He looked pleased. “Just like that. Nice and easy. It’s not so bad, is it?”

  I scowled at him. “I’ve hardly reached my knees.”

  “You’re almost halfway there.”

  I frowned at him and his silly, roguish smile. Goosebumps popped up on my legs. I held my skirts tight. “I’m not getting in any farther. I can’t go back to the party wet. I’m just going to go back.”

  I started to turn around and make my way back to the sand.

  “Allie!” Samuel suddenly shouted. “Get b —” And then his voice was muffled by the gurgling sound of rushing water.

  A wave crashed on my back, whipping my feet out from under me. I let out a gurgled scream as my world turned to freezing, swirling blackness. I flailed in the water, tried to stand, and fell back down. “Oh no.” My voice came out panicky and waterlogged. “Oh, dear heavens. Oh my word.”

  Samuel came up laughing, water sputtering out of his mouth. He shook his head, droplets flying.

  I stood and twisted my skirt back into place as the water retreated back into the ocean. I pushed the hair out of my face, and noticed sand covered my backside. Beatrice would die when she saw me.

  Just after the thought drifted though my mind, voices floated from the direction of the party. Someone was coming this way.

  I groaned and waded back to shore, muttering under my breath.

  “Allie!” Samuel shook his hair again and tried to run after me, the water slowing him down. “Are you okay? Did you get water up your nose or something?” He grabbed my shoulder and attempted to turn me toward him.

  Heat seeped through my body. I whipped around and pushed him hard in the chest. “That’s for making me get in the water,” I spat.

  He flailed and fell backward, his hand still on my shoulder. I tumbled with him, back into the ice-cold water.

  This time we both came up at the same time, sputtering for air.

  “I’m sorry, Allie,” Samuel was saying, trying to pull me up out of the water. For a few seconds we were caught in a strange balancing act as we both attempted to climb to our feet. “I’m so sorry.”

  And then it hit me. “Sam Carroll?” I steadied myself and took a step back. Time stood still as the years came rushing back over me.

  Sam looked nervous. He licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah.”

  I stared at him in silence. It made sense. The blue eyes. The dark hair. The way he watched me and teased me and smiled at me. The fact that I didn’t really hate him, despite the fact he nearly drowned me.

  I took another step back, aware all over again of how wet and dirty I was. “What are you doing here?”

  How did he find me? After all these years? I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or happy. Surprised, yes. Even a little scared.

  Sam kicked a little splash in the water. “My aunt Rachel lives here. So I thought I’d visit for the summer.”

  “Did you know I was here?”

  “Well, yeah.” Sam looked up and caught my gaze, looking both embarrassed and amused. “I mean, Aunt Rachel mentioned you were her neighbor. And that she’d seen you.”

  I blinked. “But I didn’t know about you.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Sam smiled slowly.

  Just like his aunt to spring this on me. I shivered. How could I not have seen it?

  “Allie?” I looked up to see Beatrice standing on the shore, staring at us with a mixture of shock and concern.

  I jumped away from Sam and tried to peel my soaking-wet dress away from my body. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry …” I stumbled, my face heating up. “This is … um …”

  “Samuel.” Beatrice’s mouth twitched. “We met a few minutes ago, remember?”

  Of course it’s Sam Carroll. I tried to compose myself. “Yes, Sam. We were swimming. In the ocean. It’s not bad, actually. A little … wet … but … not bad.” I bit my lip and half-swam, half-waded to shore.

  “You were laughing.”

  “What?” I looked at Beatrice. Was everyone going crazy?

  “I heard laughter, so I came to see what was happening. You were snorting water out of your nose.” She seemed strangely calm.

  I reached up to smooth down my hair and attempted to look composed. “Yes, well … Sam was just …”

  Beatrice smiled at Sam and shook his hand more warmly. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Sam. I do hope we’ll see you again this summer.”

  I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my notebook. This was just way too awkward. I flopped my hat on top of my dripping head and trudged back up the hill toward the party.

  Beatrice went on to exclaim, “To think you’ll be living practically next door to us! Allie, this is wonderful! Allie?” She raised her voice as I got closer to the festivities. “Allie! Allie, don’t you dare go back there looking like that!” I turned to see her looki
ng back at Sam. “Do come for supper one night. And tell your aunt I said good-bye.” Then she ran after me, practically yelling, “Allie! Allie, come back here!”

  Chapter 8

  The moon was but a chin of gold

  A night or two ago,

  And now she turns her perfect face

  Upon the earth below.

  — Emily Dickinson

  I could still feel my cheeks burning as Beatrice drove in silence. Sam Carroll. I had never been so humiliated in my life. Why, I bet he knew who I was the whole time and was just toying with me as revenge for how I used to treat him.

  I pulled the blanket around me closer. And after that last thing I said to him too. I basically accused him of my mother’s death by saying she’d still be alive if he wasn’t there.

  Shame at those words seeped over me. Ugh, I could just die right now.

  “You didn’t have to be so rude,” Beatrice said. “All I said was that he made you laugh. No one makes you laugh. You can’t blame me for pointing it out.”

  I sighed. “That was Sam.”

  “I know. And he’s staying with his aunt Rachel for the summer. I was listening, you know.”

  I groaned and leaned my cheek against the car window. “No, no, Beatrice, that was Sam. Sam Carroll. I grew up with him.”

  “And you just stood there bumbling while the poor boy was forced to introduce himself like a complete stranger?” Beatrice’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I hadn’t seen him since the funeral. I didn’t recognize him, so he was a complete stranger.” I sighed. I was such a fool.

  Beatrice glanced over at me. “So did he recognize you?”

  I groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry.” Beatrice tapped the steering wheel for a few seconds. “So was he a mean kid?”

  “No, he just … He wasn’t mean. He was nice.” I snuggled into the blanket. “And smart. He was just …” I trailed off again. He was just Sam. I turned to Beatrice and chewed my lip. “He came from a perfect home, you know? It was like he had everything he’d ever need.” I grimaced “He followed me around everywhere.”