Page 6 of Sometimes You Stay

“Come in. Come in.” She waved them into the Victorian-staged foyer and past the round wooden entry table with a perfectly fanned spread of travel magazines, not even a word about the sporadic drips in their wake that marred her perfect floor.

Ignoring him, Marie put a hand on Cretia’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“R-r-rice.”

“You’re hungry? I can make you something warm to eat.”

Cretia shook her head, more water falling onto his arm from her long black ponytail. “My bag. My electronics.” Her teeth resumed chattering as soon as she stopped speaking.

Marie’s forehead wrinkled as Finn turned back toward the yard, where Cretia’s backpack had landed with an audible squish when Joe Jr. let it go in favor of little-boy hugs and belly rubs. Whatever was in that bag probably wasn’t going to make it. But he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

Thank God for Marie Sloan, who had never met a situation she couldn’t take charge of.

“We’ll take care of that after we make sure you’re all right. Come into the kitchen.” Marie wasn’t even a step in that direction when she angled her head and called down the hallway, “Julia Mae, will you bring me some big towels? Now.” She paused and gave them both a quick once-over. “Lots of them!”

They took a quick path across the dining room, weaving between a few of the mismatched four-top tables. They weren’t set with tablecloths or place mats at the moment, but the rich white wainscoting and deep blue paint on the walls reminded him how stunning the room could be dressed up in its Sunday best. As they flew through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, the little jingle bell above the door rang its greeting.

“Let’s sit you down here,” Marie said, pulling out a wooden stool from along the middle island and leaning in close to Cretia’s face when he set her there. “Where does it hurt?”

Cretia wrapped her arms around her middle and curled in on herself, shooting an uncertain glance in his direction. Could she feel his absence too? It was an unusual tingle deep in his chest, not strong, just ... present. A noticeable change. Cold where they had managed to keep each other tolerably warm together.

Only it was cozy in the house. Maybe the real chill came from being apart. He crossed his arms in a losing attempt to ward off the strange feeling.

“Julia, where are you?” Marie called.

“Coming!” The voice of the little girl was muffled behinda stack of neatly folded beach towels taller than her head. But she moved quickly, nearly running into the corner of the island counter.

Putting a hand on her dark curls, Finn stopped her before she could do any real damage and grabbed two of the towels off her stack. “Thanks, squirt.”

He whipped one to full size and threw it around Cretia’s shoulders, then rubbed up and down her arms from shoulders to elbows and back. She still twitched and quivered, but maybe not so much from the cold as the adrenaline that had likely coursed through her. And the rush of it leaving her body.

He didn’t stop, though. A bit of contact might be comforting.

To her or himself, he didn’t know.

Either way.

Marie spread another white towel over Cretia’s lap and then threw one at him. Finn raised an eyebrow, but Marie only gave him a roll of her eyes. He swung it around his neck and patted at a few wet spots on his shirt before turning back to Cretia.

Slowly the tension in her shoulders began to ease, and the clacking of her teeth slowed. After a few more minutes, she took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry to be such a bother.” She inhaled again, raising her shoulders and posture. “I’ll—Let me clean up your floor.”

Marie bent slightly at the waist until her face was directly even with Cretia’s line of sight. “I’ll handle that later. First, are you all right?”

Cretia tried to pull the towels off and move to stand, butFinn put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “She must have hurt her leg when she fell in. She couldn’t walk on it.”

Cretia shot him a hard look, which softened as soon as she turned back to Marie. “I twisted my ankle. Before. On the boardwalk. I was a little off-balance and ran into a column or something when I was getting some footage on the dock.” She waved the phone still in her hand. There was no way it had survived the ordeal, but she didn’t look ready to let it go, her fingers holding it like a vise.

Finn chewed on his lip and dragged a hand through his hair. She hadn’t exactly run into a column. “Um, actually...”

“Finnegan Chaffey.” Marie’s voice turned all things mom. “Tell me you didn’t push this poor thing into the harbor.”

“Of course not! I was just trying to wrangle Joe Jr., and she bumped into me.” He shot Cretia what he hoped was an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to send you over the edge.” Literally.

Her dark eyebrows pulled together. “I ran into you?”

He offered a one-shoulder shrug, the best he could do at the moment.

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