Contents ( 66)
- Cover
- Books by Valerie Fraser Luesse
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Map of Florida
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- Epilogue
- Keep Reading for a Preview of Valerie Luesse’s Next Book!
- Prologue
- one
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
Peyton was about ten miles down the road, pedaling in solitude and moonlight, when it dawned on him: He didn’t even know the name of the girl from Okeechobee. He knew Le Roi’s, but not the name of the girl brave enough to free him. Peyton had stumbled onto a total stranger in the middle of the night and, without thinking too much about it, helped her rustle alligators. And then he had climbed back on his bike and gone about his business without even asking her name.
It wasn’t normal, this road he was on.
Like everything else on it, captive alligators conjured memories of his father, who never could abide pens and fences. He always kept his horses in sweeping pastures with plenty of room to run, even for Thoroughbreds. Whenever Peyton’s elementary school classes took their obligatory field trips to the zoo, Peyton’s dad would ditch work and keep him out of school. They would go on a field trip of their own—fishing or kayaking or spending a day on Daufuskie Island, where his father knew an old Gullah woman who ran a little café off her back porch. Best food Peyton ever put in his mouth.
No pens, no fences. Ever.
thirty-four
Not since he’d picked up Lisa for their very first date had Peyton been this nervous. He had spent so much time getting ready at the Miami firehouse that the whole company was giving him grief. They had already loaded his bike onto one of the trucks and offered to drop him off a couple of blocks from Lisa’s relatives. His mother had passed along the address—relayed by Lisa—and now he was ready to go.
“Get the lead out, Romeo, or she’ll be married to somebody else before you get there!” Captain Sanchez called.
All the other firemen laughed and made catcalls when he joined them.
“Lookin’ snappy, Bike Boy!”
“Go get ’em, Georgia!”
“Might as well take a preacher with you!”
“Gimme a break,” Peyton said, rolling his eyes.
“You won’t get any mercy from this crew.” Captain Sanchez laughed. “Climb aboard, Peyton. Your hour of reckoning is at hand.”
As promised, the captain dropped him near Lisa’s aunt and uncle and helped him unload his bike. “Good luck to you, my friend,” he said as he shook Peyton’s hand.
“Thank you, Captain. Somethin’ tells me I’m gonna need it in a few minutes.”
“Don’t let those people rattle you. Get on in there and show ’em what you’re made of.”
They waved goodbye, and Peyton pushed his bike a couple of blocks to a Mediterranean-style house surrounded by palm trees. He smoothed his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair before parking his bike on the sidewalk near an iron gate that led to the front entrance. His hands felt sweaty as he rang the bell.
A housekeeper in uniform came to the gate. “May I help you, sir?” she asked.
“Yes, please. My name is Peyton Cabot, and I’m a friend of Miss Lisa Wallace. I wondered if I might see her?”