“But I don’t doubt you shared a bond,” Blake replied. He held her gaze. “I believe you.”

Carson sighed, relieved that at last he validated her feelings.

“You’re shivering,” Blake said. “We should go.”

“You’re right,” Carson replied, coming to a decision that had been forming in her mind since Delphine was first taken away. “I should go. To Florida. I need to see Delphine again. To see with my own eyes that she’s all right.”

“Carson . . .”

“If she’s depressed, she’ll be comforted to see me. She knows me. I might be able to help. I have to try.” She took Blake’s hand. “Can you help me with at least that much?”

“You want to go to the Dolphin Research Center?”

“No, I want to go to the hospital. To the Mote Marine Laboratory, where Delphine is now,” she replied.

“Treatment may take weeks. Months.”

“I’ll stay only as long as it takes her to turn the corner.”

“Where will you stay? How can you afford it?”

“I’ll get a job. Get a cheap place to stay. I know how to do that.”

“You won’t gain access. Only the staff can see her.”

“Then help me get a job there. Or an internship. Or a volunteer position. I’ll sweep the floors, scrub tanks, whatever they want. Anything that lets me in the door to see her.”

He frowned. “You won’t sway their decision regarding the facility.”

“That’s not my intention. I only want to see if I can help save Delphine. I think I owe her that much.”

Thunder rumbled, closer now and louder.

Blake looked out at the sky, his profile illuminated by a crack of lightning. “You’re asking me to help you leave,” he said.

“Yes.”

“And then what?” he asked, turning to face her. “Now, I’m asking you. What about us?”

The wind gusted and Carson felt filled with purpose. She reached out and took his other hand in hers and, holding tight, looked into his eyes.

“I’m not going to lose us, either,” she answered. “Blake, I care about you. Deeply. I know we have something special. But I know in my heart if I let this go, if I don’t see for myself that she’s okay and make her understand that I’m not abandoning her, I’ll never be able to move on. I’ll just be running away again. Don’t you see? That’s what I do every time. I cut my losses and leave. But I’m trying to break that pattern. Only if I see this through with Delphine is there any hope for you and me.”

He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.

“Just say you’ll come back.”

“I’ll come back.”

He moved his head to kiss her, slowly, possessively.

A clap of thunder roared and echoed above them, warning them that the heart of the storm was overhead. Blake cupped his hands to frame her face, as though capturing her image, then rose and pulled Carson to her feet. Clasping hands, they ran down the dock to the shelter of Sea Breeze.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“You wanted to see me?”

Mamaw looked up from the small gaily wrapped box she held in her lap. Carson stood by the door, her expression curious, perhaps a bit anxious at being called to Mamaw’s room. Carson was leaving for Florida the following morning. All day she had been a whirling dervish packing and preparing for the trip. The house was quiet now save for the murmurs of the girls out on the back porch and the clinking of ice in their glasses. Mamaw surveyed the young woman dressed in what she had come to accept were Carson’s pajamas—men’s boxers and an old T-shirt. Her long hair draped her shoulders like a black velvet shawl.

“Yes, come in,” Mamaw replied, waving a hand to usher in Carson. Then she patted the chair beside hers.

Carson smiled and joined Mamaw in the small sitting room that adjoined her bedroom. A small lamp with a blue-fringed shade spilled yellow light on the chintz fabric covering the table and the matching chairs. This was Mamaw’s favorite room, a perfect spot for a tête-à-tête. She idly let her fingers smooth the collar of her pale pink silk robe as she measured Carson’s steps toward her.

Carson bent to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “This is nice.”

“I wanted to have a little chat before you leave,” Mamaw began.

“I’m all packed and ready to go, just like the song,” Carson told her.

Mamaw searched Carson’s face and saw the familiar signs of pending departure—the excitement in her eyes, the fission of energy radiating from her pores. Why were her loved ones always so eager to leave? The open road had never called to Mamaw. She’d never understood why anyone would want to leave the sultry winding creeks, the phenomenal sunsets, or the song of the surf in the lowcountry. There was more than enough culture in Charleston for even the most discriminating tastes. What the lure of foreign cities was, Mamaw was sure she didn’t know.

Carson must have seen the anxiety in her face, because she leaned forward to place her hand over Mamaw’s. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. I’ll only be gone a few weeks. I know how important this summer is to you. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Oh, child,” Mamaw said, patting Carson’s hand, “you’ve never disappointed me.”

Carson looked at her askance. “Never? But I feel like I’ve just made a mess of things. Again.”

“Never,” Mamaw replied firmly. She hated to see any sign of defeatism in her granddaughters. She was quick to ferret it out.

“Quite the opposite. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Carson,” she began, looking squarely into her granddaughter’s eyes, wanting to be heard. “This has been a very difficult month for you. Yet you’ve weathered this emotional roller coaster of family secrets, confronted your drinking, shouldered the responsibility of this terrible accident with the dolphin, all with a grace and courage that not many women possess.”

She paused to see Carson’s eyes widen with incredulity, and in that moment saw again the little girl who had come to live with her after the fire, her burned skin bandaged, her hair singed, and her blue eyes wide with a vulnerable hope that had made Mamaw’s heart go out to her.

“I am very proud of you,” Mamaw said with emphasis, wanting the words to sink in.