You have no idea, she thought. “Thanks for checking on him and bringing him back to the beach.”
“Glad to help. Before you go, you wouldn’t happen to know if there’s someplace nearby where I could get a cup of coffee, would you?”
“No. There are only houses in this direction. A little past the pier, you’ll find a place called Clancy’s. It’s a restaurant and bar, but I don’t think they open until lunch.”
She understood his crestfallen expression. Mornings without coffee were terrible, and if she had magic powers, she’d ban the very thought of it. Scottie, meanwhile, was getting farther away, and she motioned toward him. “I should probably keep an eye on my dog.”
“I was headed in the same direction before I got sidetracked,” he said. He turned. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”
As soon as he asked, Hope felt a frisson of…something. His gaze, the deep cadence of his voice, his relaxed yet gracious manner set a vibration thrumming inside her like a plucked string. Startled, her first instinct was to simply decline. The old Hope, the Hope she’d always been, would have done so automatically. But something took over then, an instinct she didn’t recognize.
“That would be fine,” she answered instead.
Even in the moment, she wasn’t sure why she agreed. Nor would she understand the reason years later. It would be easy to chalk it up to the worries plaguing her at the time, but she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Instead, she came to believe that despite the fact that they’d only just met, he summoned something previously unknown in her, an urge both primal and foreign.
He nodded. If he was surprised by her response, she couldn’t tell as they began to walk beside each other. He wasn’t uncomfortably close, but he was close enough for her to note the way the tips of his thick, dark hair fluttered in the breeze. Scottie continued to explore ahead of them, and Hope felt the crunch of tiny seashells beneath her feet. On the back porch of a home, a light blue flag fluttered in the wind. Sunlight poured down, liquid and warm. Because they were otherwise alone on the beach, walking beside him felt strangely intimate, as if they were together on an empty stage.
“My name’s Tru Walls, by the way,” he finally said, raising his voice over the crash of the waves.
She looked over at him, noting the lines at the corners of his eyes, the kind that come from spending hours in the sun. “Tru? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before.”
“It’s short for Truitt.”
“Nice to meet you, Tru. I’m Hope Anderson.”
“I think I saw you walking last night.”
“Probably. Whenever I visit here, I bring Scottie out a few times a day. I didn’t see you, though.”
He lifted his chin in the direction of the pier. “I went in the other direction. I needed to stretch my legs. It was a long flight.”
“Where did you fly in from?”
“Zimbabwe.”
“Is that where you live?” Her face registered her surprise.
“All my life.”
“Forgive my ignorance,” Hope began, “but where in Africa is that?”
“In the south. It’s bordered by South Africa, Botswana, Zambia, and Mozambique.”
South Africa was always in the news, but the other three countries were only vaguely familiar to her. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I am.”
“First time at Sunset Beach?”
“First time in the U.S. It’s a different world here.”
“How so?”
“Everything…the roads, the infrastructure, Wilmington, the traffic, the people…and I can’t get over how green the landscape is.”
Hope had no frame of reference for comparison, so she simply nodded. She watched as Tru tucked a hand in his pocket.
“And you?” he asked. “You mentioned that you’re visiting?”
She nodded. “I live in Raleigh.” Then, realizing he probably had no idea where that was, she added, “It’s a couple of hours northwest. More inland…more trees, and no beach.”
“Is it flat like it is around here?”
“Not at all. It has hills. It’s also a sizable city, with lots of people and things to do. As you’ve probably noticed, it can be pretty quiet around here.”
“I would have imagined that the beach would be more crowded.”
“It can be in the summer, and there will probably be a few more people out and about this afternoon. But it’s never really busy this time of year. It’s more of a vacation spot. Anyone you do see probably lives on the island.”
Hope pulled her hair back, trying to keep the strands from blowing in her face, but without an elastic band, it was pointless. Glancing over, she noticed a leather bracelet on his wrist. It was scuffed and worn, with faded stitching forming a design that she couldn’t quite make out. But somehow, she thought, it seemed to suit him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone from Zimbabwe before.” She squinted at him. “Are you here on vacation?”
He walked a few paces without answering, surprisingly graceful, even in the sand. “I’m here because I’m supposed to meet someone.”
“Oh.” His answer made her think it was probably a woman, and though it shouldn’t bother her, she felt an unexpected flash of disappointment. Ridiculous, she chided herself as she pushed the thought away.
“How about you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “What brings you here?”
“A good friend of mine is getting married this Saturday in Wilmington. I’m one of the bridesmaids.”
“Sounds like a nice weekend.”
Except that Josh went to Las Vegas instead, so I won’t have anyone to dance with. And I’ll be asked a million questions about him and what’s going on, none of which I really want to answer, even if I could. “A celebration for sure,” she agreed. Then: “Can I ask you a question?”
“By all means.”
“What’s Zimbabwe like? I’ve never been to Africa.”
“It depends where you are, I suppose.”
“Is it like America?”
“So far, not in the slightest.”
She smiled. Of course it wasn’t. “Maybe this is a silly question, but have you ever seen a lion?”
“I see them almost every day.”
“Like outside your window?” Hope’s eyes widened. “I’m a guide at a game reserve. Safaris.”
“I’ve always wanted to go on safari…”
“Many of the people I guide describe it as the trip of a lifetime.”
Hope tried and failed to imagine it. If she went, the animals would probably go into hiding, like they had at the zoo when she’d visited as a girl.
“How do you even get into something like that?”
“It’s regulated by the government. There are classes, exams, an apprenticeship, and finally a license. After that, you start out spotting, and then eventually you become a guide.”
“What do you mean by spotting?”
“Many of the animals are fairly adept at camouflage, so sometimes they’re not too easy to find. The spotter searches for them, so that the guide can drive safely and answer questions.”
She nodded, regarding him with growing curiosity. “How long have you been doing this?”
“A long time,” he answered. Then, with a smile, he added, “More than twenty years.”
“At the same place?”
“Many different camps.”
“Aren’t they all the same?”
“Every camp is different. Some are expensive, others less so. There are different concentrations of animals depending on where you are in the country. Some areas are wetter or drier, which affects species concentrations and migration and movement. Some camps advertise themselves as luxury camps and boast fantastic chefs; others offer only the basics—tents, cots, and cellophane-wrapped food. And some camps have better game management than others.”
“How’s the camp where you work now?”
“It’s a luxury camp. Excellent accommodations and food, excellent game management, and a large variety of animals.”
“You’d recommend it?”
“Certainly.”
“It must be incredible seeing the animals every day. But I guess it’s just another day at work for you.”
“Not at all. Every day is new.” He studied her, his blue eyes penetrating yet warm. “How about you? What do you do?”
For whatever reason, she hadn’t expected him to ask. “I’m a trauma nurse at a hospital.”
“As in…gunshots?”