Page 12 of The Lost Heiress
She didn’t want to tell Saoirse that she didn’t know how to swim, but she also didn’t want to be a killjoy, not on the first day, not when they were getting along so well.
“You have to run in quickly when the tide pulls out,” Saoirse said. “The bottom drops off a few yards out; that’s why the waves break the way they do.”
“Oh,” Ana said, her heart sinking. “So it’s too deep to touch?”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Saoirse assured her. “Trust me. I swim here nearly every day in the summer.”
Ana bit her lip, feeling panic in her stomach. “I think I’ll just sunbathe for a while,” she said.
“All right,” Saoirse said, clearly disappointed. “I’ll sit with you.”
They had brought a towel, a thermos of iced tea, and some cups. They spread the towel out on the sand and lay down facing the water.
“You’ll get funny tan lines in those clothes,” Saoirse said, glancing at her sideways.
Ana pursed her lips. She was hot and sweaty from their ride in the noonday sun, and she didn’t want to deny Saoirse something else when she had already turned down her offer to go swimming. So Ana unbuttoned her blouse, undid the clasp of her shorts. She folded them neatly into a pile on the edge of the towel and lay back down in her underwear. She was secretly glad she had chosen to wear her new cream-colored underwire bra and a trusted pair of cotton briefs this morning: nothing fancy, but also not too dowdy or worn.
“Thirsty?” Saoirse asked, handing her the thermos.
“Yes, parched, thank you,” Ana said.
She took a swig. It was cold and sweet, with a bitter aftertaste that Ana couldn’t place. She wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers.
“What kind of tea is this?” Ana asked.
“Persimmon with a hint of turmeric,” Saoirse said. “My own secret recipe.”
Turmeric. That must be what she’d tasted.
“I’m going to take a dip to cool off,” Saoirse said. “You sure you don’t want to join me?”
Ana shook her head.
“Suit yourself, then,” Saoirse said.
Ana watched her saunter toward the water, all slender long legs and bronzed skin. When she was gone, Ana lay down on her back. She hadn’t realized until just now how tired she was. She had risen before the sun this morning to pack her car and make the drive up north. And she hadn’t really slept much the night before. She’d tossed and turned, her stomach roiling with anticipation and nervousness for the coming day.
She decided she would close her eyes, but just for a moment. The warmth of the sun covered her body like a comforting blanket, weighing down on it, pressing her into the sand. And the sound of the waves breaking on the shore was a lulling melody.
She heard Saoirse come back at some point and ask for the towel, and she’d scooted off it, still half asleep, and then she’d dozed some more.
When Ana woke, the sun had inched lower in the sky. The sand next to her was bare—Saoirse wasn’t there. Ana sat up quickly and scanned the water, but aside from some gulls lolling on the surface farther out, it was empty.
“Saoirse?” Ana called.
It took her a moment to realize that her clothes and shoes were also gone. So, too, was the thermos and, to Ana’s horror, both horses.
Jacqueline’s words from her interview the previous week echoed in her head: “Don’t be nice. They certainly won’t be.”
Saoirse’s friendly welcome had been merely a ruse, Ana suddenly realized. She’d wanted to lower Ana’s defenses, lure her into a vulnerable position so she could strike. Ana felt humiliated—how easily she had fallen for it.
Seething, Ana wrapped her arms around her middle. The wind was picking up, sending a chill that raised goose bumps on her bare skin. She had two choices: wait there in the hope that someone from the house would eventually notice she was missing and come find her, or walk back to the house, along the highway, in her underwear.
Ana stood up; she had never been the type to wait to be rescued.
The climb up the hillside was steep and long and treacherous, especially without shoes. The path was rocky, the jagged edges cutting into the flesh of Ana’s bare feet. Her thighs and glutes ached, and she gasped for breath as she neared the top. She stumbled twice, dirt and rocks crusting themselves into the skin of her knees and the palms of her hands.
When she reached the road, she could see the house in the distance, about two miles away. The asphalt was hot but bearable to walk on, and she kept to the edge of it, facing oncoming cars. The road was not a busy one, and Ana couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
