Love Lies Bleeding: A Novel Part 25
When she reached a small car, she unlocked the door and got in. In a moment she was wheeling out of the parking lot.
With a shake of her head, Anne opened her door and started her own car. She could've sworn the woman had been Alice, but Alice would have acknowledged her. Settling her sungla.s.ses on her face, she forgot about the woman and set her mind on calculating once again how much it would cost to send Caleb to St. Michael's.
Confident that Caleb would tell the truth to Deputy Parker, she allowed images of the next four years to dance through her mind-Caleb finally going off to college. A frown played on her lips. That would be hard, watching him walk out the door and into a new life. A life in which she didn't play a daily role. But that was okay. Hadn't Greg pointed out that she would have to loosen the strings at some point, and really, she didn't mind. If it meant that Caleb was moving toward a secure future, it would all be worth it. She pictured herself a few years from now, standing proudly with the other parents, watching Caleb receive his degree. A thrill of happiness filled her. Caleb would have the chance that she'd thrown away.
Promptly at one o'clock, Anne pulled up in front of Sam's. Looking at the cabin, she hoped that the mess Teddy Brighton had created for her son had been straightened out. Surely, by now Caleb had called Deputy Parker and confessed what he knew.
When she'd stopped by earlier and read Sam's note giving her the morning off, both Dr. Van Horn and Sam had been gone. Maybe they'd gone for a drive. Or maybe they were engaged in something else, she thought with a little smirk. They'd been pretty chummy when she walked in on them yesterday. It had taken her aback. She'd never witnessed any kind of affection between them, but now it looked like the situation was changing. She hesitated. Should she make a racket when she walked in the door? Should she knock first? No, Dr. Van Horn's car was still gone, so the danger of interrupting them was slim.
Anne walked the rest of the way to the cabin and opened the door. Nope, no Dr. Van Horn-just Sam standing in front of the easel with one brush in her mouth and another in her hand. She watched as Sam made a few quick strokes with the one in her hand. Amazed, she saw a pine tree appear in the painting. Switching brushes, Sam made a few more strokes and the rough outline of the sh.o.r.e appeared.
Anne cleared her throat.
Sam jumped at the sound, the brush falling from her hand as she pressed it to her heart. "You startled me!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry." Anne stepped inside and motioned over her shoulder. "Is Dr. Van Horn at the sheriff's?"
Sam gave her a puzzled look. "Sheriff's?"
Quickly Anne explained Deputy Parker's visit and Caleb's confession.
When she'd finished, Sam frowned. "I'm sorry Jackson accused Caleb."
"It's understandable. Teddy was wearing his sweatshirt, and maybe now Caleb will finally stay away from him." Anne looked around the room. "So where is Dr. Van Horn?"
"He left last night," Sam replied, rinsing out her brushes.
"Short visit."
Sam picked up a towel and began drying the brushes. "Last visit."
"What?" Anne exclaimed.
Placing the brushes back in the tray, Sam crossed to the couch and, after sitting down, related last night's events. Dumbfounded by Sam's story, Anne joined her on the couch.
"Don't you think you might be overreacting?" Anne hesitated. "The wind could've blown the door open. It was quite a storm."
Sam's lips tightened and she shook her head. "No, I distinctly remember locking it." She picked at a cushion next to her while she stared off into s.p.a.ce. "Ever since I stopped taking those d.a.m.n pills, my memory's been sharper." She turned toward Anne and her eyes narrowed. "I almost wonder if they weren't slowing my recovery."
When Anne didn't answer, Sam slapped her thighs and rose. "Moot point now." Looking down at the other woman, she smiled. "What do you have planned for me today? I've already taken a walk."
Anne looked toward the sun streaming in the French doors. "Let's try something new. It's a beautiful day. How do you feel about going for a swim?"
Sam's nose wrinkled as her attention drifted down to her left leg. "I'd have to wear a bathing suit."
Standing, Anne laughed. "You can't very well swim in sweatpants."
Sam's hand drifted down to her left thigh. "My leg," she began with reluctance in her voice.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Anne said, waving away her fears. "You can wear your sweats over your suit then take them off right before you get in the water. No one will see your leg."
"You're sure?"
"Trust me. It will be okay."
With that, Sam went back to her bedroom to change while Anne slipped into her suit in the guest room. Together they carefully made their way down the steps to the dock. Once there, Sam took off her pants and quickly waded into the lake. She stopped when the water lapped around her waist. Looking up at Anne, she c.o.c.ked her head.
"You know you look great in a bathing suit."
Blushing, Anne smiled. "Thanks." She waded in to join Sam, handing her one of the "noodles" she'd hauled down to the lake.
"Have you ever thought about modeling?" Sam asked suddenly. "With your figure and height-"
Anne launched herself into the water, cutting Sam off. She swam briskly to the end of the dock. Straightening until her feet hit the bottom, she wiped the water out of her eyes. Sam, wearing a perplexed look on her face, still stood where Anne had left her.
"Use the noodle and swim out to meet me."
"You didn't answer my question."
Her eyes downcast, Anne moved her arms through the water. "I know."
Sam swam over to Anne. "I'm serious-I worked with plenty of models at the ad agency, and half of them don't have your presence. I know you're not in your twenties, but there is a niche for older women. You should give it a try."
"Like I haven't heard that one before." She gave a furious shake of her head. "No."
"Why? What's the deal?"
Anne grabbed the edge of the dock and let her legs float upward. "What's the expression? *Been there, done that.' "
"You modeled?"
Anne gave a sharp snort. "I tried it-all the folks around here told me I was perfect-but the modeling agencies in New York thought differently."
"When did all this happen?"
"A long time ago. I was young and stupid." Anne let her fingers trail through the crystal-clear lake water. "I took every dime my parents had saved for my college education and wasted it on trying to break into the business." She dropped her chin. "I came home with my tail tucked between my legs. The only good thing to come out of the experience was Caleb."
Sam laid a hand on her wet shoulder. "I'm sorry."
Anne brushed her away. "Don't be. I got over it. Now the only thing that's important is that Caleb doesn't make the same mistake I did by chasing after some foolish dream. He's going to get an education."
"But is that what Caleb wants?"
"No. He thinks he can make a living working as a musician." Anne scoffed. "But I'm not going to allow it."
Sam moved to the end of the dock and grasped the edge. "Kind of like my father didn't allow me to see if I could make it as an artist?"
Anne felt her temper rise. "No, it's not like that at all," she declared hotly. "You've always had money. We haven't. You can afford to fail. Caleb can't. He needs an education to be successful."
"There are more ways to fail than just financially. I know people who have lots of money, but I wouldn't say they have successful lives."
Anne kicked away from the dock and swam into deeper water. "Yeah, try living from paycheck to paycheck and see how successful you feel."
Using the noodle for buoyancy, Sam paddled toward her. "If my paintings don't sell, I might-"
The sudden roar of a Jet Ski cut off her words. A teenager, with the sun turning his red hair orange, rode high in the seat as he headed straight toward them. At the last minute he cranked the steering hard toward the left, creating a big wave. As the wave rolled toward them, Anne made a grab for Sam, but the girl's wet arm slipped from her grasp. She watched helplessly as the force of the water yanked the noodle out Sam's hands and carried her back toward the end of the dock.
With a dull thump, Sam's head met the dock's metal pylon. Her eyes closed while her body slumped back in the water. In two long strokes, Anne had reached her and, supporting her shoulders, lifted her face clear of the water.
Sam's eyelids fluttered open, and with a groan, she raised a hand to her head.
"What happened?"
"Are you okay?" Anne asked as she took a firm grip on Sam's upper arm.
"Yeah," she said, allowing Anne to pull her back into shallow water. When her feet touched the bottom, she rubbed the side of her skull.
Anne looked beyond Sam to the Jet Ski disappearing in the distance. "The force of the wave carried you into the side of the dock. Can you make it up the hill to the cabin?"
Sam dropped her hand and nodded. "I'm fine. I was stunned for a moment, that's all." She glanced over her shoulder. "Who was on the Jet Ski?"
"Do you really have to ask?" Anne's face flushed in anger. "Teddy Brighton."
Chapter Twenty-five.
When they reached the cabin, Anne helped Sam into one of the kitchen chairs and called Dr. Douglas. After taking the phone, Sam sat patiently and answered the doctor's ridiculous questions.
"Are you nauseated?"
"No."
"What day is it?"
Sam grimaced. "Monday."
"Do you have any ringing in your ears?"
"No."
"On a scale of one to ten, rate your pain."
"Five."
"Okay," Dr. Douglas said. "May I speak with Anne, please?"
Anne accepted the phone and listened intently. "You're positive you don't want to see her?" she asked in a voice weighted with skepticism.
Sam shook her head vigorously at Anne's question and mouthed the word no.
With a frown, Anne turned her back on Sam and continued listening to the doctor's instructions. "Sure, I'll spend the night," she replied. "Okay, thanks, Doctor."
Anne placed the phone on the counter and crossed over to Sam. After helping her to her feet, she guided her toward the hallway. "Dr. Douglas said to rest and take ibuprofen. Do you need help getting out of your swimsuit?"
Sam pulled her arm away. "Don't treat me like an invalid. I took a little b.u.mp on the head. I'm fine."
"Okay, but I'm staying. I'll call Caleb, make sure he did talk to the deputy sheriff, and let him know that I'm spending the night."
Before Sam could answer her, a knock interrupted them, followed by Fritz appearing in the doorway.
"I don't mean to intrude," he said self-consciously, "but I have a gift for you, Samantha-a CD of my compositions. I thought you might enjoy listening to it."
She made a half turn and moved toward him, but Anne stepped forward and blocked her.
"This really isn't a good time, Fritz," she said, not hiding the irritation in her voice.
He looked fl.u.s.tered as his attention shifted to Anne.
"Sam's had an accident," she continued.
"Oh, my dear," he cried, stepping over the threshold. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," Anne answered for Sam. "I've called the doctor and he said the best thing for her is rest, so I'm staying the night."
"But, Anne, aren't you concerned about Caleb?"
"Um-not at the moment."
"Oh," he said, not hiding his surprise. "I'd heard Duane Parker paid you a visit."
"I'm sure that the matter has been straightened out by now," she replied gruffly. "I want to get Sam to bed, so if you'll excuse us . . ."
Fritz reached around Anne and shoved the CD case toward Sam. "Here, my dear, you can listen to this while you're resting."
Sam glanced at the case and shook her head. "Not now. I think I'd better do as Anne says." She waved toward the counter. "If you'd put it over there, I'll listen later."
Fritz glanced down at his hand. "Yes-yes," he muttered. "I'm sorry to have bothered you." Placing the case on the counter, he left.
"I think we hurt his feelings." Sam sighed after the door had softly closed. "It was sweet of him to make me a CD of his music."
"You can thank him later," Anne replied. "My job is to make sure you follow the doctor's instructions, not worry about Fritz's feelings."