Wild Fire (53 page)

Blythe shook her head. “I’m not talking about your safety rules. We all know you’re a great diver, Rikki, but you shouldn’t be alone out there. Anything could go wrong.”

“If I’m alone, I’m only responsible for my own life. I don’t rely on anyone else. Every second counts, and I know exactly what to do. I’ve run into trouble countless times and I handle it. It’s just easier by myself.” And she didn’t have to talk to anyone, or make nice. She could just be herself.

“Why go north of Fort Bragg? You told me the undersea floor was very different and the sharks were more prevalent there and it kind of freaked you out.”

Rikki found herself wanting to smile inside when just seconds earlier she’d been squirming. Blithe saying “freaked out” meant she’d been spending time with Lexi Thompson, the youngest of their family.

“I found a shelf at about thirty feet covered with sea urchins. They look fantastic. The fault runs through the area so there’s an abyss about forty feet wide and another shelf, a little smaller, but still packed as well. No one’s found the spot. It’s a blackout, Blythe, uni spine to spine. I can harvest a good four thousand pounds and get out of there. I’ll only go back when no one’s around.”

Blythe couldn’t fail to hear the excitement in her voice. She shook her head. “I don’t like it, but I understand.” And that was the trouble—she did. Rikki was both brilliant and reclusive. She seemed to take her talents for granted. Blythe could ask her to program something on the computer and she’d write a program quickly that worked better than anything else Blythe had ever tried.

Everything about Rikki was a tragedy, and Blythe often felt like holding her tight, but she knew better. Rikki was very closed off to human touch, to relationships—basically to anything that had to do with others. She had allowed each of the other five women into her world, but they could only come so far before she shut down. She was haunted by her past—by the fires that had killed her parents and burned down her foster homes. By the fire that had taken her fiancé, the only person Rikki had ever let herself love.

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” Blythe asked. “In case you’re wondering, I turned off the three other hoses around your house.”

She didn’t ask how the water had gotten turned on. The entire family knew water and Rikki went hand in hand and strange things happened when Rikki had nightmares.

Rikki bit her lip. She tried a causal shrug to indicate nightmares were no big deal, but they both knew better. “Maybe. Yes. I still get them.”

“But you’re getting them a lot lately,” Blythe prodded gently. “Isn’t that four or five in the last few weeks?”

They both knew it was a lot more than that. Rikki blew out her breath. “That’s another reason I’m going out diving today. Blowing bubbles always helps.”

“You won’t take any chances,” Blythe ventured. “I could go with you, take a book or something and read on the boat.”

Rikki knew she was asking if there was a possibility she would get careless on purpose, that maybe she was still grieving, or blaming herself. She didn’t know the answer, so she changed tactics. “I thought you were going to the wedding. Isn’t Elle Drake getting married today? You were looking forward to that.”
Another reason why the ocean would be hers and hers alone.
Everyone was invited to the Drake wedding.

“If you won’t go to the wedding and you need to go to the sea, then I’ll be happy reading a book out there,” Blythe insisted.

Rikki blew her a kiss. “Only you would give up a wedding to go with me. You’d throw up the entire time we were out there. You get seasick, Blythe.”

“I’m trying gingerroot,” Blythe said. “Lexi says there’s nothing like it.”

“She’d know.”

Lexi knew everything there was to know about plants and their uses. If Lexi said gingerroot would help, then Rikki was certain it would, but Blythe was
not
going to sacrifice a fun day just because she feared for Rikki’s safety. Rikki’s life was the sea. She couldn’t be far from it. She had to be able to hear it at night, the soothing roll of the waves, the stormy pounding of the surf, the sounds of the seals barking at one another, the foghorns. It was all necessary in her life to keep her steady.

Most of all, it was the water itself. The moment she touched it, pushed her hands into it, she felt different. There was no explanation for it. She didn’t understand it, so how could she explain to someone else that when she was in water, she was at peace, completely free in her own environment.

“Blythe, I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to going down.”

“You’re spending too much time alone again,” Blythe said bluntly. “Come to the wedding. All of the others are going. Judith can find you something to wear if you’d like.”

Rikki had a tendency to go to Judith for advice on what to wear or how to look if she was going to anything where there would be a large group of people, and Blythe obviously mentioned her on purpose in the hopes that Rikki would change her mind.

Rikki shook her head, trying not to show a physical reaction, when her entire body shuddered at the horror of the thought of the crowd. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t. I always say the wrong thing and get people upset.”

She had met Blythe in a grief counseling session and somehow, Rikki still didn’t know how or why, she’d blurted out her fears of being a sociopath to the others. She never talked to anyone about herself or her past, but Blythe had a way of making people feel comfortable. She was the most tolerant woman Rikki had ever known. Rikki wasn’t taking any chances of doing anything that might alienate her or any of her other sisters. And that meant staying away from the residents of Sea Haven.

“Rikki,” Blythe said, with her uncanny ability that made Rikki think she read minds. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re a wonderful person and you don’t embarrass us.”

Rikki tried desperately not to squirm, wishing she was already at sea and as far from this conversation as possible. She adjusted her glasses to make certain she wasn’t staring inappropriately. Sheesh. There were so many freakin’ social rules, how did people remember them? Give her the ocean any day.

“And you don’t need to wear your glasses around me,” Blythe added gently. “The way you look at me doesn’t bother me at all.”

“You’re the exception, then, Blythe,” Rikki snapped, then bit down on her lip hard. It wasn’t Blythe’s fault that she was completely happy or completely sad, utterly angry or absolutely mellow. There was no in-between on the emotional scale for her, which made it a little difficult—whether Blythe wanted to admit it or not—for her to spend time with other people. Besides, everyone annoyed the hell out of her.

“I’m different, Blythe. I’m comfortable being different, but others aren’t comfortable around me.” That was a fact Blythe couldn’t dispute. Rikki often refused to answer someone when they asked her a direct question if she didn’t feel it was their business. And anything personal wasn’t
anyone’s
business but hers. She felt her lack of response was completely appropriate, but the individual asking the question usually didn’t.

“You hide yourself away from the world, and it isn’t good for you.”

“It’s how I cope,” Rikki said with a small shrug. “I love being here, with you and the others, I feel safe. And I feel safe when I’m in the water. Otherwise . . .” She shrugged again. “Don’t worry about me. I’m staying out of trouble.”

Blythe took a swallow of coffee and regarded her with brooding eyes. “You’re a genius, Rikki, you know that, don’t you? I’ve never met anyone like you, capable of doing the things you do. You can memorize a textbook in minutes.”

Rikki shook her head. “I don’t memorize. I just retain everything I read. I think that’s why I seriously lack social skills. I don’t have room for the niceties. And I’m not a genius; that’s Lexi. I’m just able to do a few weird things.”

“I think you should talk about the nightmares with someone, Rikki.”

The conversation was excruciating for her, and had it been anyone but Blythe, Rikki wouldn’t have bothered making an effort. This conversation skirted just a little too close to the past—and that was a place she would never go. That door in her mind was firmly shut. She couldn’t afford to believe she was capable of the kinds of things others had accused her of: setting fires, killing her own parents, trying to hurt others. And Daniel . . .

She turned away from Blythe, feeling almost as if she couldn’t breathe. “I’ve got to get moving.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Rikki nodded. It was easier than arguing. “You have fun at the wedding and say hello for me.” It was so much easier being social through the others. They were all well liked and had shops or offices in Sea Haven—all a big part of the community. Rikki was always on the outside fringe, and was accepted more because she was part of the Farm than for herself. The residents of Sea Haven had accepted the women of Rikki’s makeshift family when they’d moved here just a few short years earlier, all trying to recover from various losses.

She forced a smile because Blythe had been the one to give her a place to call home. “I really am fine.”

Blythe nodded and handed her the empty coffee cup. “You’d better be, Rikki. I would be lost if something happened to you. You’re important to me—to all of us.”

Rikki didn’t know how to respond. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable with real emotion, and Blythe always managed to evoke real emotion, the heart-wrenching kind better left alone. Rikki felt too much when she let herself feel, and not enough when she didn’t. She pushed out of her chair and watched Blythe walk away, angry with herself for not asking Blythe why she was out running so early in the morning, why she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she knew she’d hack into Blythe’s computer and read her personal diary and then try to find a way to help her.

Rikki didn’t mind invading privacy if she thought she had good reason. The fact that she was inept at meaningful dialogue with those she cared about gave her all the reason in the world. Blythe, of all the women, was an enigma. Rikki was an observer and she noticed how Blythe brought peace to all of them, as if she took a little bit of their burdens onto herself.

Rikki sighed and threw the rest of her coffee out onto the ground. Sugar in coffee. What was up with that? She glanced up at the clear sky and tried to concentrate on that, to think of her sea, the great expanse of water, all blues and grays and greens. Soothing colors. Even when she was at her stormiest and unpredictable, the ocean brought her calm.

She went back into her house, leaving the screen door closed but the back door wide open so she wouldn’t feel closed in. She polished the cupboards fast where Blythe had touched them, leaving undetectable prints, washed the coffee mugs, and carefully rinsed off the sink around the coffeepot.

She hummed slightly as she packed a lunch. She needed high-calorie foods, lots of protein and sugar. Peanut butter sandwiches, two with bananas—even though there was an old saying that bananas were bad luck—and a handful of peanut butter cups and two bags of Reese’s Pieces would keep her going. Her job was aggressive and hard work, but she loved and reveled in it, especially the solitary aspects of being underneath the water in an entirely different environment—one where she thrived.

Extra water was essential and she readied a cold gallon while she prepared and ate a large breakfast—peanut butter over toast. She might not like sugar in her coffee, but she wasn’t stupid enough to dive without taking in sufficient calories to sustain her bodily functions in the cold waters.

She ate, toast in hand—she didn’t actually use her dishes. Her sisters had given her the most beautiful set with seashells and starfish surrounding each plate. She carefully washed the entire set on Thursdays and her wonderful set of pots and pans on Fridays—but she always had them displayed so she could look at them while she ate her sandwich.

She’d washed and bleached her wet suit the night before and made certain that her gear was in repair. Rikki repaired all her own equipment religiously, waiting for that one moment when all her senses would tell her there’d be a calm and she could go diving. Her gear was always prepared and stowed at all times so the moment she knew she could make a dive, she was ready.

Her boat and truck were always kept in pristine condition. She allowed no one else to step on her boat except the women in her family—and that was rare. No one but Rikki touched the engine. Ever. Or her baby, the Honda-driven Atlas Copco air compressor. She knew her life depended on good air. She used three filters to remove carbon monoxide, which had killed two well-known locals a few years earlier.

She knew the tides by heart thanks to the Northern California Tidelog, her bible. Although she’d committed the book to memory, she read for fun daily, a compulsion she couldn’t stop. Today she had minimum tide ebb and flood with hopefully no current—optimum working conditions where she wanted to dive.

Despite Blythe’s concerns, Rikki really did consider safety paramount. Rikki stowed her wet suit and gear in the truck along with her spare gear. Divers—especially Rikki—generally kept a spare of every piece of equipment on the boat on hand just to be safe, in an airtight locked container that she checked periodically to make sure it was in working order. Moments later she was driving toward Port Albion Harbor, humming along to a Joley Drake CD. The rather famous Drake family lived in the small town of Sea Haven. The Drakes were friends with her sisters, particularly Blythe and Lexi, but Rikki had never actually talked to any of them—especially not Joley. She loved Joley’s voice and didn’t want to chance making social mistakes around her.

Strangely, she’d never been bothered by others’ opinions of her. Friendships were too difficult to manage. She had to work too hard to fit in, to find the right things to say, so it was easier just to be herself and not care what people thought of her. But with someone she admired—like Joley—she was taking no chances. Better to just keep her distance entirely.

Rikki sang along as she drove down the highway, occasionally glancing at the ocean. The water shimmered like jewels, beckoning to her—offering the peace she so badly needed. She’d had a few months’ reprieve from her nightmares, but now they were back with a vengeance, coming nearly every night. The pattern was familiar, an affliction she’d suffered many times over the years. The only thing she could do was weather the storm.