Page 27 of In Dangerous Water

“Juice!” Isabella announced. She grabbed her sippy cup and proceeded to chug. Once she finished, she banged it down on the bar top and went back to coloring in her book with a vengeance.

I couldn’t help but smile at Isabella’s antics.

“You know what I find fascinating about you, Cordelia?” Estella asked.

Before I could reply, Estella was barreling right along.

“You’re a mystery,” she said. “Your sister, Brynn? She’s creative, down-to-earth and practical. Kenna has got all that fiery energy and humor; and Skye is quick, clever and snarky as hell. Then there’s you. And I still can’t figure you out. You’vegot, like, hidden depths. The more I look at you—the less I actually see.”

“Hidden depths.” I tried a smile to lighten the mood. “Nice water pun.”

“No, I’m serious,” she said. “I’ve known you for a couple of years now. And you’re stillnothinglike I imagined you would be.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, you know. A professional athlete—the sports personality type.”

My eyebrows raised. “Did you expect me to show up wearing sunglasses with all my swimming medals around my neck?”

“Maybe just one.” Estella grinned. “Allow me my illusions.”

Now I smiled. “The press attention from winning an Olympic medal, the television interviews…and possible endorsements…”

“A guest spot onDancing with the Stars.” Estella wiggled her eyebrows at her own joke.

“Goddess forbid,” I said. “Anyway, the fame can go to some people’s heads.” I shrugged. “It never went to mine.”

Estella rested her elbows on the bar across from me. “Being married to Chauncey, I have an understanding ofthatside of the sports world. Better than most.”

“That’s right,” I remembered. “He used to race Formula One cars.”

Estella grinned. “Back in the day, before I ever met him, he bopped around with the rich and famous on the racing circuit.” She paused a beat. “It didn’t make him happy.”

“Personally, I hate the celebrity aspect of my sport,” I admitted. “The intense media attention…and some fans can becomeverydemanding. Which is at an insane level when you compete at the Worlds or the Olympics. Now while I loveswimming—the discipline and the challenge of it—the truth is the Olympics, for all their prestige, are only a short period of time for swimmers. There’s always the next competition, and you always know no matter how good you are or how much you train, there’s somebody younger and faster, creeping up on your best time.”

As I spoke, Isabella leaned her head against my arm. Automatically, I put my hand on her small back and rubbed it. In response, the toddler yawned and snuggled closer. Before I could guess what she was about, she had put her arms around my neck. I could sense how sleepy she was, so I scooped her up and with a happy sigh, she relaxed against me.

“Take a nap, baby girl,” I told her.

Isabella reached up, grabbed a handful of my hair, and laid her head down on my shoulder.

Estella smiled. “You have a way with her.”

I began to rub Isabella’s back. “She’s beautiful.”

“What you shared with me,” Estella began, “sounds extremely stressful, especially for an empath. You’re a lot stronger—and I don’t mean physically—than I would have ever guessed.”

“It was a trade off,” I admitted. “I had to find a way to survive the sport I love. So, I learned to shut everything out. Emotionally and psychically. But it did cost me.”

“Which is why you retired from it relatively early,” Estella said.

“I wanted a quieter, less stressful life,” I said. “I thought living in Alton…coaching a high school swim team…I’d be off the radar.”

“What can I do to help you, Cordelia?” she asked.

I considered her for a moment. Estella wasn’t the type to offer pity. She was tough, yet loving and loyal to her family.

“Actually,” I began. “Would you happen to know of any place in Ames Crossing that has a room to rent? Someplace private, quiet, and out of the way. I don’t need much.”

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