A Starlight Summer
Yazar
Michelle Major
Okur
16,1K
Bölüm
21
Chapter One
It was a brilliant day in Starlight, Washington, the sky a singular blue that marked a perfect summer afternoon. Dazzling and intense without a wisp of a cloud marring the meteorological perfection.
Ella Samuelson was in the mood to hit something.
She thought it a benefit that she wanted to take out her temper on a poor, unsuspecting inanimate object and not an actual living person.
That showed a surfeit of maturity and self-control, right?
Too bad she couldn’t get a handle on her emotions as quickly as she could control her urges.
She stood at the edge of the crowd at the weekend festival that paid tribute—in large part—to her late mother’s devotion to supporting the arts in the picturesque town nestled at the base of the Cascade Mountains. Ella should feel happy.
At least she should be able to muster satisfaction and pride.
She’d just announced the recipients of the artist stipend funded by her family’s bank. Her father had begun supporting the creative community in Starlight, and specifically this summer art festival, shortly after his wife’s death to honor her memory.
It was a noble endeavor, but noble hadn’t mattered to a teenage Ella, who’d lost her gentle and patient mother in a tragic car accident. Ella and her older brother, Finn, who’d been in the car with their mom at the time of the wreck, had been devastated. Their father, Jack, was gutted by grief and emotionally walled himself off from his kids for years just at the time when they needed him the most.
Ella had felt deserted, heartbroken and angry. She’d rebelled in the usual ways of angsty teenage girls, embarrassed now that she hadn’t even been able to find a creative outlet for her feelings. Instead, she’d anesthetized herself and shoved them down and run from her emotions. Run from everything that reminded her of home.
At least she’d parlayed the running into a successful career as a traveling nurse. But she’d managed to bungle that as well, when the pressure of facing illness, death and trauma in remote and war-torn regions of the world had become too much.
When her emotions refused to be pushed down any longer, she’d ended up weeping and eventually nearly catatonic on the floor of a mud hut in a speck of a village on the outskirts of a South American jungle.
She’d returned to her hometown under the guise of taking a break and reconnecting with her dad and brother after finding out about her father’s cancer diagnosis. The big C had been an excuse to run once more.
Two months of a planned break had turned into nearly two years in Starlight. She still hadn’t been able to return to the nursing profession that had once been her calling. At the moment, she worked odd jobs around town and barely scraped together enough money to afford rent now that she’d moved out of her dad’s guesthouse. Her pride remained easier to deal with than emotions, and Ella had pride in spades.
She’d made a deal with one of her high school friends for reduced rent on a short-term lease if she helped to fix up the guy’s ramshackle duplex so he could sell it once she left town. She was leaving town and had finally given herself a deadline.
The end of the summer.
She’d agreed to return to the traveling nurses’ agency she previously worked for, although she hadn’t yet signed the official contract. Still, they were expecting her to report for duty on the first of September.
The thought of getting on a plane and flying to someplace where they urgently needed medical staff made Ella’s chest knot so tightly it was a wonder she could breathe.
The alternative, which her new friends suggested on a regular basis, was staying in Starlight. Put down roots and admit she wanted the kind of steady life her parents had before her mother’s death. But Ella didn’t trust it. She knew from experience that stable didn’t equate to safe. Why not push the envelope and tempt the adventure gods as much as she could?
What was the worst that could happen?
“You’re scaring the small children with that frown,” a deep voice said near her ear.
She resisted the immediate urge to offer a one-fingered salute in response. There were families with young kids milling about as they’d reached the point in the festival when the committee was giving out the youth awards.
She cocked her head ever so slightly to see Josh Johnson at her side, wearing one of his trademark faded flannels despite the warm temperature. The muted pattern seemed to accentuate skin burnished by the sun and the scruffy five-o’clock shadow that roughened his strong jaw.
“If it keeps the little ankle biters at bay, then I’m doing something right,” she told him as she returned her attention to the speaker. “Shouldn’t you be off impressing adoring moms with your juggling or leaping tall buildings in a single bound or whatever it is Superdads do on the weekend?”
Josh chuckled—a deep rumble that had a surprising bite to it. An edge Ella found appealing even though she knew there was nothing for her when it came to this particular man.
She’d lapsed into quite a dry spell since returning to Starlight. If she were going to pick a guy to break it, Josh would be at the bottom of that list. He would be on a different pad of paper entirely. A completely foreign language to the one Ella spoke.
She’d known Josh in high school, but they hadn’t run in the same circles. He was far too pleasant for her. Ella hadn’t been a fan of nice guys back in the day. Not much had changed in that respect. Josh’s inherent kindness, open smile and willingness to pitch in whenever someone needed help around town made him genuinely beloved in the close-knit Starlight community. And a man who wasn’t for her. Josh was the very picture of steady and stable, and Ella was a runner at heart.
Which did not account for the awareness that sizzled along her skin as he playfully nudged her elbow.
Okay, the guy was cute enough—even she could admit that. With his dark hair and big soulful brown eyes, he was like a warm hug personified.
Ella reminded herself that she didn’t like cuddling.
“Let me guess,” she said as she scanned the children crowded in front of the stage. “Anna is getting an award?”
He nodded and didn’t bother to hide his proud grin. “My mom gave her an old camera for her eighth birthday, and she’s got some natural talent for a kid her age.”
“Of course,” Ella murmured. “Takes after her father—perfect in every way.”
“Tough crowd.” Josh let out an amused snort. “It’s no secret you don’t like my kid or me, although neither of us is perfect.”
“I didn’t say either of those things,” Ella countered, embarrassment making her cheeks heat. What kind of a person wouldn’t like an adorable girl who’d survived a bout with leukemia and her devoted father? Apparently, someone like Ella who had a scrap of tin where her heart should be. “I like Anna just fine.”
Josh’s smile widened, and his good humor in the face of Ella’s acerbic attitude only made him more appealing—and more annoying.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Trust me. I’m a fantastic liar. You have no idea.” She laughed, but when he didn’t seem to appreciate the joke, Ella’s stomach felt squirmy, like it was filled with a million creepy-crawlies. She didn’t exactly broadcast the fact that she was faking much of her happiness and any sense of contentment she exuded.
It was disconcerting to think that Josh Johnson, a man who was her polar opposite in every discernible way, would be the one to see right through her defenses.
Her sister-in-law, Kaitlyn, who was doing emcee duties for the awards ceremony, announced Anna Johnson’s name along with the other winners.
Josh took a step forward, clapping and whistling for his daughter and giving Ella a perfect view of his broad shoulders and strong back. His thick hair curled around his collar like he needed a cut but had forgotten to make an appointment at the barber.
Ella could imagine any number of women who’d like to step in and help manage his busy life while warming his bed—she’d guess it was a big one—in the process.
Not her. Not with Josh.
So why did reminding herself that they weren’t a fit make her chest ache again?
No point in examining that unwelcome thought any closer, Ella decided. While everyone else focused on the kids, she turned away.
An hour later, she walked toward a quiet section of the grassy town square, down a path surrounded on both sides by rows of boxwoods and bright flowers along the borders.
This area had been established almost a decade earlier, commissioned by her father as another tribute to his late wife.
Ella’s mother had loved the story The Secret Garden, and her dad funded these plantings and the sculpture at the center of this space in honor of her mom’s memory. He’d sent pictures to her and her brother, Finn, when the area had been dedicated. Neither of them had returned to Starlight for the ceremony.
Finn was different now. In his own way, he’d made peace with their father and had taken his rightful place heading up the bank that had been in their family for several generations.
Ella might have picked Starlight as the place to shove her head in the sand against the problems of her life, but she wasn’t quite ready to play nice.
To that end, she purposely hadn’t visited this part of the town square. It would have given her father too much satisfaction, she told herself.
The absolute truth might have been that she was already assailed by memories of her mother in this town and her heart. She hadn’t wanted to face the reminder of her death. She didn’t need a garden statue to remember Katie Samuelson.
But she could no longer stay away. She needed resolution with the past before she left Starlight to claim her future once and for all.
As she approached, Ella heard the sound of a young girl’s voice speaking in conversational tones, although no one talked back to her. It was ridiculous for Ella to feel as though she were intruding on some private moment. This was her mother’s memorial, after all. Although she’d kept her distance until now, suddenly she felt the need to see the statue that had been forged to commemorate her mother’s spirit.
Her steps slowed as she caught sight of the girl with dark wavy hair and a sunset-pink dress. Anna Johnson held up the ribbon she’d won earlier as if the bronze statue she faced was a real person.
“And Daddy says that for Christmas I can ask Santa for a new lens, but I think Nana will get me one now if I talk to her. I like the blue ribbon, especially because Mariah Corcoran only got a red one. She made fun of me when my hair fell out, and Mommy called her the B-word. That was before Mommy left.”
Darn it.
Ella rubbed two fingers against her chest. The last thing she needed was to feel tenderness toward a kid whose father she wanted to avoid. Where was he, anyway?
She didn’t want the reminder that Josh’s daughter had not only endured childhood cancer, but the girl’s mother had walked out on her family just as Anna was finishing her treatment.
Talk about a B-word.
Ella must have said the words out loud because Anna whirled toward her, dropping her ribbon onto the gravel path in her surprise.
“You can’t be here,” the girl said, scowling as she bent to pick up the ribbon. “This is my place.”
“This is a public park,” Ella pointed out, “and I most certainly have a right to be here.” She moved forward slowly, studying the sculpture as she did. “That’s my mother.”
Anna’s rosebud mouth opened in shock as she looked between Ella and the sculpture, which bore a striking resemblance to Katie Samuelson.
Although formed out of bronze, Ella could see the kindness of her mother in it. The woman’s head bent toward the two children who sat at her feet, a boy and a girl. She held an open book in her hands as if this were story time.
Ella could remember so many hours passed curled up next to her mom as Katie read aloud from a wide array of books. Ella’s love of reading had come from her mom as her dad had never been interested in anything but the financial section of the paper.
Honestly, Ella hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d appreciated his wife’s devotion to reading and creativity. In some ways, he’d been like a ghost in their house—appearing for an occasional dinner or event but then gone again, back to the bank that had taken up so much of his time and energy.
And after her mom died, her father had seemed to vanish into himself, withdrawing to let Ella and Finn fend for themselves amid their own heartbreak.
“You’re nothing like her,” Anna said as if she had a personal relationship with the statue. As if that heavy piece of metal could truly embody Katie’s goodness.
“I know,” Ella agreed, because what was the point of arguing? “Congrats on your award. Your dad is super-proud.”
“It’s not a big deal other than beating Mariah.” Anna’s cherubic little mouth thinned, which was a surprise. Ella would have expected the girl, who seemed to brim with self-confidence, to enjoy the praise, half-hearted as it was. “Do you know any women like your mom?”
Ella blinked. “Like her how?”
“You know, kind, pretty and nice.” Anna kicked the toe of her sandal against the base of the statue. “Single.”
“Single, huh? Aren’t you a little young to think about dating?”
“It’s for my dad,” Anna blurted as if Ella was the dimmest bulb in the drawer. “He needs a new wife, and he’s bad at picking girlfriends.”
And wives, Ella thought, based on what she knew about his ex and the way that woman had left.
“You think he needs someone like my mom?” Her heart pinched at the thought. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like Katie Samuelson at his side. Ella’s father certainly had been. “She was a great mom, too.”
“I have a mom,” Anna said, sounding both defensive and resigned.
A mom who’d walked out as her daughter finished battling cancer. No gold stars there.
Ella’s gaze snagged on a flicker of color above the statue. A small butterfly with bright yellow wings landed on the top of her mother’s head, and tears stung the back of Ella’s eyes.
Shortly after her mom’s accident, Ella had been crying in the tree house in their backyard when a butterfly had landed on her arm. It had been late September, the air too cool for the delicate creature, but it was there just the same. Even angry and grieving, Ella had taken it as a sign.
From that moment forward, butterflies meant something more to her, especially when they appeared at unlikely or serendipitous times.
Like right now.
Maybe she was grasping for meaning, but she took the butterfly as a sign from her mom. An unwanted sign based on how she interpreted it, but one she wouldn’t ignore.
“I’ll help you,” she said before she thought better of it.
Anna followed her gaze to the butterfly, which fluttered off to inspect a nearby flower. “Help me do what?” the girl asked slowly.
“Find someone for your dad.” Ella let out a long breath as she let the idea of what she was offering wash over her.
This would be good, she told herself. She was leaving Starlight at the end of the summer but helping Josh and Anna Johnson would be a final goodbye to her mother.
A way to connect with Katie’s memory and the life her mom would have wanted for Ella. She couldn’t be the kind of sweet, nurturing spirit her mom was, but she could help this abandoned girl find someone to fill that role. And then maybe Ella could return to her normal life without being plagued by regrets about how much she refused to give of her heart to anyone.
And how disappointed her mom would be in who Ella had become.
Anna took a step forward. “Why?”
“Because your dad is, indeed, pathetic at choosing women, and I’m a great judge of character.” She inclined her head toward the statue. “I had her as a role model, and she’d want me to do this before I leave town again.”
Okay, Ella had no idea why she felt the need to get buy-in from an eight-year-old kid. She could find Josh a woman on her own, but she also knew that Anna was the type of daughter who could make things easier or harder in the process.
Ella voted for easier.
Apparently, the girl did, too. She spit on the center of her palm and then thrust out her hand.
“I’m not shaking that,” Ella said with a mock shudder. “Gross.”
Anna rolled her eyes and wiped her hand on her pink dress, then held it out again. “Fine, but even if we shake without spit, it’s a deal. You can’t break it.”
“Fine.” Ella took the girl’s hand, surprised by the way the warmth and softness of it ricocheted through her. She quickly drew back. “It’s a deal. Operation Dad Date is officially underway.”
