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
The next time he opened his eyes, he was standing on a rapidly vanishing sandbar, surrounded by rising water. A boy who looked about his age, tall with blondish hair, was walking toward him through the surf. Once they stood together on the damp sand and Peyton could see the boy eye to eye, he recognized him right away.
“Dad?” he said.
The boy nodded.
“Have I lost it?”
The boy smiled. “Maybe.”
“What are we doing here?”
“Don’t be afraid,” the boy said. “It’s just a little water.”
Then he turned and waded back into the waves. He was looking over his shoulder as if he were about to say something when a familiar voice brought Peyton around.
“See? I told you you’d make it!”
He opened his eyes to see Ginger standing over him.
“What happened?” Peyton asked. He felt groggy and confused. “Did you see my dad?”
“No, honey, there’s nobody else here. You ran a scorcher of a fever. And I’ll bet you’ve been dreaming because you’ve been mumbling for hours. Do you remember anything?”
Peyton didn’t have the energy to tell her about the conversation with his dead father, so he just shook his head.
“Are you thirsty?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Here, take a little sip of this.” Ginger gave him some ice water from a cup—the best water he had ever tasted. “Easy now—just a little bit at a time.”
He tried to pace himself, but his mouth was completely dry. Ginger stayed with him until he’d had all the water he wanted.
“I don’t think solid food would be a good idea just yet,” she said as she fluffed his pillows. “But I’ll bring you a little homemade broth from the kitchen and maybe some saltines. Does that sound like it might stay down?”
“I think so. Hey, Ginger—I’m sorry for takin’ up your time when you’ve got real sailors to look after.”
She gave him a dimpled smile. “Honey, you’re a welcome break from the swabbies. Don’t you worry about me. I’m here to get you well. Then we’ll get you some clothes and put you up for a few days, and you’ll be shipshape.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey. I’d like to think somebody would help one of my boys if they got into a pickle out there all alone. That’s what women do—we keep you men patched up.”
thirty-eight
Peyton made up his bunk like the sailors taught him, tucked his money into his shoe, and stored his belongings in his footlocker. The base commander told him he was welcome to stay as long as he needed a bed. Peyton gave Robbie a little salute at the guard shack before walking into town for his first real look at Key West.
Duval Street was a marvel—two long, straight lanes of pavement stretching from the Gulf to the Atlantic. And it was lined with shops and restaurants, all behind storefronts that reminded Peyton of New Orleans, with their gingerbread balconies and double porches. But instead of plaster and wrought iron, everything was made of wood. Everywhere, palm trees swayed in the warm tropical wind.