“It’s too far, Lincoln! It’s too far. What if something happened? I can’t. No.” Sara shook her head, hair sticking to her mouth. She brushed it away, turning her face from Lincoln’s intense gaze. “What if you got hurt? No.”
Lincoln touched her chin with his free hand, the fingers cool and calloused; familiar, turning her face toward him. “I’ll make you a deaclass="underline" you drive us to the edge of town and then I’ll take over. Okay?”
She exhaled loudly, muttering, “Why do you make me do these things?”
“I make you do them for you, Sara,” he said, his eyes serious.
“Why?”
Instead of answering, Lincoln pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. They jangled as they connected with her hand. Sara held them to her chest, watching as Lincoln bent his tall frame into the passenger side of the truck.
Sara’s stomach flipped as she slowly walked to the driver’s side. She paused by the door, touching a hand to her damp forehead. It’s just through town. Lincoln stared back, eyebrows lifted, waiting. She inhaled slowly, deeply, opening the door to the truck. The interior was still warm, though the truck was off. It smelled like Lincoln, his scent a security blanket as she got behind the wheel.
Her hand shook as she tried to put the key in the ignition and Sara almost dropped the keys. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the horrible swirling sensation in her stomach, and finally got the key in the ignition. Sara wouldn’t look at Lincoln; she couldn’t. She felt him, felt his eyes on her, felt his confidence in her, and her eyes stung because of it. To have such unwavering faith in her; it was humbling.
“Is your seatbelt on?” she asked in a low voice, clicking hers into place.
“Of course.”
She gave him a look.
“I don’t want to get a ticket,” he added.
The truck slowly, jerkily, backed out into traffic, Sara’s knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. She forced air in and out of her lungs, trying to focus on that instead of how hard her heart was pounding. It wasn’t such a big deal. Sara drove herself where she needed to go and was okay with it. She knew it was irrational to have such a fear; especially when it was only through Boscobel, but that didn’t stop the apprehension from turning her into a trembling mess of nerves. This was different; she wasn’t alone this time.
“Remember the day on the river when we went tubing a few summers back?”
Sara shifted the gear from reverse to forward, eyes darting over cars and trucks in the immediate vicinity. “Yes. What about it?” She stalled at the Stop sign, not wanting to go at the same time another vehicle intended to. A horn honked and she jumped, glancing in the rearview mirror at the large white truck behind her.
“I think it’s your turn to go,” Lincoln said dryly.
The truck crept forward. Lincoln laughed, which caused her face to burn, but Sara ignored him, concentrating on driving.
“Remember how Cole was determined to knock us off the tube?”
The sun was burning down on them. The inner tube bobbed up and down in the small waves made by other boats, splashing warm brown river water on her. Sara smelled seaweed and sand, the faint scent of fish in the air. She was on her stomach, one arm under Lincoln’s hard chest, the other pulled toward her; her and Lincoln’s arms crisscrossed over each other’s, both hands locked on the handles. Her lifejacket dug into her ribs, slightly raised over her shoulders from the way she was laying.
Water glistened down Lincoln’s face as he turned his head to grin at her, his gray eyes sparkling silver in the sunlight. “Ready?”
Sara glanced up at the white and green pontoon boat; saw Cole watching her, a certain gleam in his crystal blue eyes. His light brown hair was streaked with gold from the sun; his body tanned and toned from working outdoors on an almost daily basis. A slow smile curved his lips, turning Sara into a fiery ball of need. Her eyes stayed locked with his, promises communicated back and forth. He winked at her.
“You know he’s going to try to dump us, don’t you?”
“I told him not to.” Sara glanced at Lincoln; saw his eyes were on her.
“He still will. You know that, right?”
She locked her jaw, nodding. “I do.” Cole laughed, raising his bottle of water in a salute and turning to the seat behind the dashboard of the boat.
“Wrap your leg around mine.”
Sara shot Lincoln a look. The boat started, a low purr filling the air.
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “I know you’d like any excuse to touch me and I really shouldn’t encourage your behavior, but unless you want to take a bath in the not so clean Mississippi, you’ll wrap your leg around mine.”
The boat started to move, gaining speed as it went.
“Sara.” Without thinking, she edged closer to Lincoln, his muscled leg twining around hers. “Hang on,” he shouted as the boat slammed forward, the tube gliding along the river after it.
“You can pull over now.”
She blinked. Trees and rolling hills loomed ahead. They were almost in the country. Sara shook her head. “No. I’m okay.”
“Sure?”
“Yes. Just tell me where to go.”
Lincoln didn’t speak for a time, and then said, “Okay.”
“Why’d you bring that up?”
“What?”
“The river. Tubing.”
“It was the first thing I could think of to take your mind off driving. Did it help?”
She nodded, taking a slow breath. “Yes.”
“Good. Turn left up here. The first house on the right. It’s blue. See it?”
“I see it.”
“And we’re here.”
Sara turned the key and the engine went silent. Her taut nerves were slightly relaxed, her breathing close to normal. She let her hands drop to her lap, staring at the red barn to the left of the house. A chicken darted past as she watched.
“Way to go, Sara Lynne.” He gently slugged her shoulder with his fist.
She turned to him. “Why that memory, Lincoln?”
Lincoln shrugged, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I told you—“
“He dumped us. He dumped us and then I hit the water and was sucked down; my lifejacket got stuck on a limb underwater. I couldn’t get it loose and I was fighting to undo the lifejacket. I even thought maybe I would die.” She was breathing fast, the words stumbling from her lips.
“Sara—“
“You found me. Somehow. You got the lifejacket off me and you pulled me from the water. The boat was coming back around. Your arms were locked around me tight. You had to be tired, but you never let me go. He was frantic, hauling me up first, hugging me, kissing me, telling me he was sorry. You got into the boat, you spun him around, and you punched him in the face. Spencer and Gracie were there, on the boat. Spencer had to pull you off him. You shouted things.” She suddenly stopped, a lump in her throat. Sara couldn’t say anymore.
“I told him he was an idiot.”
Other things. You said other things too. But all she said was, “Right.”
“Ready to work?”
“Lead the way, boss.” Sara followed Lincoln as he crossed the yard to get to the house, but her mind was still stuck on that day.
“You knew she didn’t want to be dumped! What the fuck were you thinking? She could have drowned. Fucking idiot,” Lincoln snapped and turned away from his brother, incalculable rage flashing in his eyes, stiffening his jaw.
Sara watched him storm to the back of the boat, ignoring Gracie when she tried to talk to him. She’d never seen him so furious before; never. Lincoln’s red plaid swim trunks were stuck to his legs like another layer of skin, his broad back taut. She was stunned by his reaction. Looking at Cole, Sara knew he was too.