The Steward (27 page)

Doubt crept in. “I’m in so much trouble. I’m not supposed to say anything to anybody—ever! It’s part of the deal. Crap, I’m not even the Steward yet, and I’m already screwing things up,” I said, running my hands up both sides of my face and clutching my hair.

Confirming her suspicion about Chalen, I told her about the Fae in general and what I knew of the Seelie and Unseelie clans. I told her that I’d be the next Steward of the Weald, and what that meant, but I didn’t say anything about the trials, my abilities, or Sara and Gavin. I warned her that she had to keep her mind clear and not snoop anymore—that he could see the images in her mind and that he was dangerous. She seemed to understand, and she promised to avoid talking about it.

I’d taken a terrible chance telling her, but that seemed less dangerous than letting her continue to play
CSI: Eureka Springs
. I had a lot more to tell her, more warnings, but first I tried to teach her how to block the images in her mind so the Fae couldn’t discover what she knew. She said she was getting the hang of it, but since I couldn’t read minds myself, I didn’t know whether that was true or not.

When my phone beeped and I looked down at the text, I immediately felt sick.

4:07 PM “R we still on? Where R U at?”

“Oh, my gosh…” I slowly wheezed. “I forgot, Doug. I was supposed to meet him at four—it’s the first time since Rhonda’s accident,” I said, avoiding any mention of the kiss.

“Tell him you’re on your way, now!” she said, in her typical confident manner.

“Are you sure?”

Nodding and smiling, she seemed more relaxed. “Mags, I’ve never been better. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so glad you trusted me enough to tell me what you’re going through,” she said, hugging me. “I’ll keep your secret. Now you call Doug and tell him I was just being a drama queen. You helped me sort through it, but you’re on your way.”

“Thanks,” I said, dropping the clippings on the window seat.

FIFTEEN

CANDACE

It was four-thirty before I got down to the dock, and it would take me another twenty minutes to get to Doug’s house on the lake. I’d driven Dad’s old boat in Florida several times, but I had only driven this boat twice. It was a shiny mahogany 1955 Chris Craft Capri, and I didn’t want to mess it up.

It was floating art, but better to risk this than the other boat, I thought. The only thing I was more afraid of messing up was Aunt May’s 1941 Chris Craft Barrel Back. Mitch had looked it up on the internet, just like all the cars, and told me that you could buy three Capri’s for the price of one Barrel Back, so I left it at the dock.

I didn’t sense any Fae until I passed the islands on my way to the main channel of the lake. Steering away from them, I went as far around the islands as I could, and when I got into the open water, I pushed the throttle all the way. There weren’t many people on the lake and the surface was smooth. The Capri planed out and accelerated until the needle on the speedometer swung clockwise to forty—it felt faster on the water. I loved being on the lake and I especially loved this boat. It wasn’t as fast as the boat we had in Florida, but it was so much more elegant and beautiful. As I cruised to the thrumming sound of the engine, I imagined one of my icons, Audrey Hepburn, piloting a boat like this.

I slowed as I came into the cove where Doug lived, and I saw him immediately. Standing patiently on the dock, he smiled and waved when he recognized me. He looked beautiful in the afternoon sun, and I felt a pang in my chest as I realized just how much I’d missed him. I slowed even more as I got close to his dock, and he bent over and pulled the Capri up alongside.

“Wow, your aunt doesn’t do anything on the cheap, does she?”

“No, but if you think this is nice, you should see the other boat.”

“Really?” he said with an enormous smile.

I nodded at him. He wore sunglasses, so I could only just make out his eyes through the smoky lenses. Actually, that was probably for the best since they made me weak.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Have you been to Horseshoe Bend?”

“No. Which way?”

He pointed to the right and we headed south. I pushed the boat back up to speed, following his direction while I tried to imagine what he was thinking. With the engine and the wind, it was too loud to carry on a serious conversation, so we talked about general things. We cruised by white and gray bluffs and steep wooded hillsides dotted with white Dogwoods in bloom. I slowed the boat as we went under the Highway Twelve Bridge—the lake was narrower on the south side of the bridge and there seemed to be more coves branching off in various directions.

After several minutes, the lake made a sweeping turn to the right, and ahead, it curved hard left one hundred eighty degrees around a narrow island in the middle—Horseshoe Bend. Doug pointed to a little opening between the shore and the island and said we could go there. Just as we got close, before a narrow opening to the other side of the horseshoe, he pointed to a small, protected cove. We motored in and he climbed on the front of the boat to drop the anchor. I killed the engine and suddenly it was very quiet.

“I want to apologize for taking so long to call you,” I said.

He pulled his sunglasses off as he slid back next to me. His eyes were as blue as the Caribbean, but they were bloodshot and glassy looking.

“I don’t blame you, Maggie. I’m surprised you called me at all.”

“Why?”

“What I did … it … it was stupid and it got Rhonda hurt. I should have handled it better.”

“It was an accident. Don’t blame yourself, Doug, because it’ll drive you crazy. I know. I’ve blamed myself enough over the last two weeks for both of us.”

“I completely screwed this up, Maggie.” The pain in his voice cut through me.

I’ve got to put him at ease. This isn’t his fault, well, not entirely.
“Really, stop. If you want to blame yourself, then you have to blame me, too. And I want you to know, right now, that I am through blaming myself for what happened to her. I’m moving on, and you need to as well. I lost too much sleep, and I can tell by your eyes that you’re not doing so hot. Besides that, I didn’t come here to talk about her anyway.”

He looked at me and smiled—the deep line in his forehead relaxed. “Regardless, I acted like an idiot and I want to apologize.”

And they say I’m obstinate.
“You don’t need to apologize to me, and I’m sure you’ve already apologized to Rhonda. See, water under the bridge, as Aunt May would say.”

He exhaled loudly and looked away. “It’s terrible. She hates me and so does her dad. I never wanted this to happen—I never wanted to hurt her and I wish there was something I could do to make it all better. Her face … god, it looks so bad,” he said, continuing to stare out the boat away from me.

“She’ll make a full recovery. She’ll be beautiful, and as much as I’ll hate it, she’ll reclaim her proper place in the world when she gets back to school. And her dad is just scared and angry that his little girl got hurt. I don’t believe he actually blames you,” I said, putting my hand on his.

He didn’t turn around to face me, but he did hold my hand, entwining his long, thick fingers with mine.

“I know you didn’t want to hurt her, and deep down they know it too. Listen, Doug, as crazy as she is about you, I’m sure you’ll be able to work things out. You just need to be patient.”

He finally turned back and stared at me with an incredulous look on his face, and then shook his head.

“You really don’t get it, do you? I want her to forgive me for the accident—for seeing us the way she did—but I don’t want her back. What I said in the car, I meant. All of it.”

I started to say something but he cut me off, raising his voice, nearly yelling.

“I know you don’t feel the same way, that’s painfully clear, and please, I don’t think I could take it if you said the words … but my feelings haven’t changed.”

“Doug…”

“No, Maggie,” he yelled, “I wish I’d been smarter. I mean, it’s killing me that she’s hurt and lying in a hospital bed, but it hurts me even more that you and I aren’t talking—that I screwed everything up so bad with you. I just want you to forgive me for what I did.”

He exhaled and spoke more slowly, more calmly. “I promised myself before your party that I wasn’t going to say anything to you. Really, I tried not to be a jerk, but then when we … in the car … I had to let you know … I wanted to take a shot that maybe you felt the same way.” He exhaled again. “Please don’t hate me.”

I squeezed his hand.

“I could never hate you. You’re my friend,” I said, causing him to slump a little. “And I care a lot for you, but if I’m being honest with you, I’m not…”

“Please, don’t say it … please,” he pleaded again, shaking his head.

“I’m going to finish … like I was saying, I’m not sure how I feel about you right now and I don’t want to mess things up, either. I need you in my life.”

He smiled when I said it. “Really?”

“Yes, you are important to me.”

“Important, but…” He sounded disgusted.

“Doug, please, this doesn’t have to be difficult.”

“I just want to try to make things right,” he said.

“By quitting the swim team?”

“I thought it was best.” He turned away and looked out the other side of the boat.

“How is that best?” I asked, gently.

“I’ve made a mess of everything lately, and right now I’m a little crazy. Being around you is only making it worse. I just need some time to sort it all out, and I think it’s best that I’m not around you so much right now—not until I can get things under control.”

“No, that’s not going to work for me,” I snapped. The thought of him cutting me off made me angry. Though I knew it wasn’t the same, it reminded me of all those
friends
cutting me off in Florida when we went broke.

“This is a mistake,” he said. There was anger in his voice and he let go of my hand. “Can we head back, please?”

I looked at him for several seconds, but he kept his head turned away from me. I felt sadness—it welled up in my chest and a wave of tightness clutched my stomach.
This wasn’t how I wanted the conversation to go.

“Sure,” I said weakly. It broke my heart. He really planned to cut me loose.

He climbed back over the front of the boat and pulled up the anchor before flopping angrily back into the seat beside me. He never made eye contact. He put his sunglasses back on and continued to stare at nothing in particular. I started the boat and headed back down the lake the way we’d come—at least the sound of the engine broke the silence.

I kept my emotions under control, but I felt like crying. Not in front of him, I promised myself, that wouldn’t be fair. I just didn’t know what to do. Nausea flared up in the pit of my stomach because I knew how he felt—it was the way I felt about Gavin.
The only difference is that I’m not strong enough to cut Gavin off.

We crossed back under the bridge, and as we did, I could hear my phone going off.

“Can you answer that for me? I don’t think I can hear it,” I asked.

He reached into my backpack and grabbed my phone.

“No, this is Doug,” he yelled.

“Yes, Doug Monroe. She’s driving the boat…”

“What’s…”

“Okay … where?”

“I’ll tell her.”

He shook his head and motioned for me to stop the boat. I did. When he pulled his sunglasses off, he was looking at me with the strangest expression on his face, one I didn’t recognize. He looked surprised, maybe worried.

“Switch places with me.”

“Why?” I asked

“Maggie, please, switch places with me,” he said gently but adamantly.

“Okay,” I said.

I climbed over him as he slid underneath.

“That was your mom,” he said. “We need to get back now.”

“What is it?”

“Candace.”

As her name crossed his lips, I pictured Chalen in my head. My body went cold as I stared at Doug’s face. He gunned the throttle and the Capri shot forward.

When Doug looked back over at me, I was already crying. I couldn’t help it. There was too much going on, and the tears began streaming down my face. He hadn’t said a word, but I knew by the look on his face that something terrible had happened. I choked back my sobs, desperate to know what he didn’t want to tell me.

“Please!” I screamed against the engine roar.

“I only know that we need to hurry—it’s not good.”

“Please tell me she’s not dead!” I wailed at him.

“I don’t know Maggie, I … your mom just said it was really bad. We’ll go to my house and I’ll drive you,” he said.

I slid over next to him in the seat and curled up. I didn’t know what else to do. That bastard, Chalen, had figured it out somehow and he’d hurt her. I just knew it.
Oh god, please don’t let this happen, not to her.
Doug wrapped his arm around me and held tight. As soon as he cut the engine and tied the boat, I phoned Mom. She answered as Doug and I ran up the hill to his Jeep.

“Mom!” I screamed into the phone.

“Where are you, Maggie?” Her voice was soft and even.

“In Doug’s jeep, we’re on our way now.” I started sobbing into the phone. “Mom, please … tell me she’s alright, please!”

“Maggie, calm down. Is Doug driving?”

“Yes! He’s driving! Mom! Tell me she’s okay, please…” my voice trailed off in a weak sob.

“Maggie, I’m not going to lie to you … she’s not okay.”

I threw the phone in the floor of the jeep and screamed. I curled up in a ball on the front seat and tried to catch my breath. This has to be the worst day of my life, I thought.
I did this. I told her, and Chalen knows.
Somehow he had figured out that I told her, and did something terrible to her because of it.
Candace had better be okay, or I’ll make him pay, so help me, I’ll make him pay.

The ten-minute drive into the little hospital in Eureka felt like it took an hour. I saw Gavin’s car in the parking lot—it was next to Aunt May’s Lincoln. The tiny waiting room was full of people I knew. Mom and Aunt May were with Chloe, and Mitch sat in the corner with Justin, Candace’s little brother. He looked lost and scared. Gavin came over to us as soon as we walked in.