Until Tomorrow

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Until Tomorrow Page 9

by Kari Lee Harmon


  “That’s my girl.” He laughed when she curtsied. “Well, first we need to find some tinder. That’s basically anything that is dry, fibrous, and will take a spark or "catch" and ignite. Pocket lint, feather down, dried mosses, and shredded plant fibers such as cedar bark would work. Use your imagination. I’ll gather some firewood while you do that, okay?”

  “Okay. It’s not dark yet, so I’ll be fine, right?” She looked at the setting sun with its beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds reflecting off the rolling waves of the ocean lapping at the shore, and trepidation rather than admiration filled her gaze.

  “You’ve got this, Lois.” He rubbed her back. “Don’t go far.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that.” She grunted and ambled off reluctantly.

  Logan tried to remember everything he’d learned from his research. He knew he needed to avoid laying the wood on the ground since it might be damp, especially from the tide and the ocean spray. Searching the area, he found some dead branches that had broken off big trees but got caught in the lower branches and never hit the ground. He snapped off a few that looked dead, but a couple were bendy which meant they were still alive. Those he left alone because they wouldn’t be dry enough. When he had his stack, he made a makeshift pallet to hold his supplies.

  Next, he went in search of several handfuls of kindling. Avoiding green wood because he knew it wouldn’t burn well, he chose tiny pieces of wood in various lengths and thicknesses and placed them on his pallet. Then he went in search of firewood. Lots of pieces about as thick as his arm.

  Emma returned with her arms full. “No pocket lint in my stylish outfit, Doc, but I did find some featherdown, dried moss, cedar bark, cattails, and dead leaves.”

  “Excellent.” Using the small fiber of cattail, which would ignite his tinder, and the thicker fiber of dry leaves on the outside as shelter, he made a nest. Then he made a cotton ball size piece of the tinder and set it aside, leaving a hole in the center of the nest for the coals he would make.

  “I’m impressed.” She stood with her arms crossed, looking down at him.

  “Don’t be. I’ve never actually done this before. I just read about it.”

  “You’re smart. How hard can it be?”

  “Harder than you think.” He got to his feet and headed for the woods once more.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded panicked again.

  “Making a bow. I won’t be long, I promise.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Make a fire board. Make sure the wood is light and dry and doesn’t have sap. It should be soft enough to dent with your thumbnail without gouging. We’ll need a piece about an inch thick, a couple inches across and about a foot long.”

  “I’m on it.” She disappeared into the woods as well.

  Moments later, Logan found the perfect piece of green, bendable wood that was slightly curved for his bow. He’d read a lighter bow would be easier to control and would take less strength to push back and forth. Sitting by the fire pit, he pulled a shoelace from his sneaker and attached it to his bow, leaving a little slack in the lace so he would be able to twist the drill into the bow.

  Emma came bounding back out of the woods, looking only a little freaked out, but curious and exhilarated. “Voila! Will this do?”

  He took the board from her and inspected it. “This looks like it will work.”

  “So does your bow. You should be a Den Master. I bet you’d be good at it, and I’m sure your son would worship you.”

  “Trust me, I’m not Den Master material…yet.” He winked. “I hope this works. Now time to make the drill.”

  “That sounds scary and difficult.”

  “Nah. This part should be the easiest.” He’d found a straight piece of Maple that was one inch thick, which was better for a smaller person like Emma, but it would have to do for a big guy like himself. The top was shaped like a pencil head while the bottom was flat to gain the right amount of friction.

  “What else can I do so I don’t feel helpless?”

  “Trust me, you’re not helpless. You’re doing great and I couldn’t do this without you. We need to make a socket. Look for a rock that’s about the size of a fist. Not too small if possible because it can heat up very quickly. Try to find one with a deep dimple and smooth sides if you can.”

  While Logan waited for Emma, he made a teepee out of wood over his nest. He layered the tinder, then small sticks, followed by larger sticks, putting them at right angles with spaces between so the coal could breathe.

  “How’s this?” Emma squatted down beside him. She handed him the rock and studied what he’d done. “You might just pull this off.”

  “Well, here goes nothing.”

  He found a spot on his fireboard with a notch in the side that would work as a chimney. Then he threaded his drill through the shoelace on his bow and then placed his drill next to the chimney and rested his foot on the board to hold it in place. Setting the rock socket on top, he pushed down and held the drill in place while he pulled back and forth on the bow, sawing faster and faster to burn a hole into his fireboard.

  When black powder and smoke came from the bottom of his bow, she said, “It’s working!”

  He stopped and grabbed the bark to catch the coals. Putting it under the chimney, he placed his drill in the burnt hole again. He started pushing and pulling on the bow, and pushing down on the socket until he got into a rhythm, and then he went faster.

  “You’ve got it. Keep going. You’re doing great, Doc.”

  Black powder started collecting in the chimney, so he kept going until he saw smoke.

  “Oh my God, I think you’ve done it.” She shook his shoulders in her excitement.

  His lips tipped up slightly as he moved the drill and the fireboard and sure enough an ember lay on the bark. Carefully lifting it, he gently blew on it until it burned brighter, then he transferred it to his tinder and kept blowing until the tender ignited. He added his twigs until the wood finally caught.

  “I can’t believe that actually worked,” he said in wonder.

  “I can’t believe you did that from memory,” she said in awe. “You’re more than smart. You’re a genius!” She held her hands over the warmth of the fire. “Now what?”

  “Now we eat.”

  She frowned and gave him a hard look. “I’m not a vegetarian or anything, but I am not eating squirrel, I can tell you that much.”

  He fought a grin. “Well, I’m not much of a hunter, so I’d say you’re safe. I saw some berries we can eat when I was looking for the wood.”

  “Berries sound great.”

  They took their waters and walked together until they came to an open spot inside the woods. Sitting down in the berry patch, they ate their fill of the wild raspberries and blueberries because they didn’t have anything to carry them back to the fire with. Finishing their water, they looked at each other and laughed. Her white shorts and striped shirt were stained with grass and berries, while his black polo shirt was ripped and sweat-stained and his tan cargo shorts were covered in dirt and ash.

  “That should hold us for the night.” He got to his feet and reached out to help her up.

  She took his hand and stood, looking around the nearly dark area warily. Birds weren’t chirping as much as they settled down in their nests for the night, but other animals were starting to scurry about, snapping twigs and rustling leaves. “Now to find a bathroom. It’s getting too late to go back to the cabin, and I highly doubt the outhouse I saw is equipped for humans.”

  Logan pointed to a tree. “Mother Nature’s finest.”

  She looked horrified for a moment but then straightened her spine like the trooper she was. “If Kathleen could do this, then so can I.” Emma paused long enough to thrust her finger in his direction. “But if I get poison ivy on my nether regions, you’re a dead man.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m a doctor.”

  “A doctor who’s not getting anywhere near my nether regio
ns, thank you very much.” She spun her finger, gesturing for him to turn around. “No peeking.”

  He turned his back, fighting another smile. “Poison ivy’s the least of your worries. I’ll keep watch for critters.”

  She gasped.

  He couldn’t stop the chuckle this time, so he coughed hard to cover it up. “You’ll be fine.”

  She did her duty in record time and then charged past him, clearly on a mission. “Meet you back at camp.”

  “Wait,” he hollered after her. “Who’s going to watch out for me?”

  “Why, Mother Nature, of course. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She didn’t miss a beat, not so much as sparing him a backward glance.

  When he was finished preparing for the night, he returned to camp to see she had covered the ground next to the fire with some ferns she’d found. “Not bad,” he said with a smile. She’d known enough not to use the dingy in case a spark burned a hole in it. As much as he didn’t want to take it out on the ocean and try to row all the way back to Beacon Bay, it was their only means of escape if it came to that. He glanced around, assessing the situation as realization dawned with a bit of dread. “Now, where’s my bed?”

  “We’re sharing one. I’m no doctor, but even I know without blankets, we need body heat to keep warm. It still gets pretty chilly at night. Besides, I don’t bite.”

  His smiled slipped. She was right, of course, but he hadn’t snuggled up to a woman in a long time. And dirty or not, Ms. Emma Hendricks was one fine-looking female, and he was a heavy sleeper. He still dreamt about his wife often. Emma might not bite, but he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t.

  8

  Present Day: Beacon Bay, Maine

  Emma was dreaming about Mark at some point in the wee hours of the morning, her brain foggy with sleep. She was warm and toasty, wrapped in a pair of strong arms with her head resting on one shoulder and bicep while the other arm was draped over her mid-section. Her back was pressed against a hard chest and flat stomach while her bottom was snuggled tight against an even harder part of his anatomy.

  Her lips tipped up in her sleep and she wiggled her fanny more snugly against him. He slid his hand up her stomach and cupped her breast. Oh, how she’d missed this. The intimacy and closeness. The feel of being held in a man’s arms. The feeling of being safe and protected. Yes, she was all about being independent and taking care of herself, but not at the expense of loneliness. It felt wonderful to be cradled and cherished. Mark had been gone for so long. She couldn’t remember where he went, but he was back now and better than ever.

  He’d put on size and was bigger than she remembered. He kissed her neck and kept alternating between gently kneading her breast and stroking her nipple with his thumb. Shivers ran through her as incredible sensations traveled down her stomach to pulse deep within her womb. Stretching in his arms, she rolled over and kissed him. He responded immediately by tipping her onto her back and slipping his tongue between her lips to dance with her own.

  Fireworks went off and feelings more powerful than any she’d ever felt exploded throughout her body. She spread her knees and wrapped her legs around him, holding on tight as he ground against her. He tasted of berries and smelled faintly of wood smoke, she realized, as her arms snaked around his neck to slip into his thick curls. Curls? Two things suddenly hit her: she wasn’t sleeping on a bed and this sure as hell wasn’t Mark.

  She pulled her lips away and opened her eyes to lock with a set of shocked dark espresso ones.

  “What’s up, Doc?” She choked on a laugh. Humor and sarcasm were her defense mechanisms when she was nervous, and right now mortification wasn’t a strong enough word for how she was feeling.

  “I’m pretty sure you can tell exactly what’s up,” he muttered as he rolled off her and sat up to plunge his hands through his hair and scrub his face. “I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She sat up next to him. “I’m the one who attacked you,” she admitted grudgingly, feeling her cheeks heat.

  His hands stilled. “Are you sure? Because I was having one incredible dream.”

  “Me, too.” Her eyes met his. “Only I thought it was about Mark.”

  “Guilty. I thought I was making love to Amanda, and if you hadn’t woken up, I most definitely would have made love to you.” His gaze dropped to her swollen lips, and the look of longing he gave her nearly had her jumping back into his arms.

  “Lonely people do crazy things, Doc.” She swallowed hard, desperately trying to get the feel of his hands caressing her body and how good it had felt from her brain. “Guess we dodged a bullet with that one.”

  “For the record that was, um, the nicest way I’ve woken up in a very long time.” Sincerity rang through in his kind voice, his tone gentle as though trying to ease her embarrassment.

  He really was so easy to be around and talk to, she suddenly couldn’t imagine spending this summer alone. He’d made her realize she needed a friend. Even though under different circumstances she probably never would have been friends with someone like him, she now couldn’t imagine spending this summer with anyone else.

  Except it was going to be hard not to keep reliving that incredible dream.

  “Thanks, Doc.” She winked, feeling more like herself with a little teasing. “Same here, but it’s probably best we don’t share a bed again unless you want another child. I’m not on the pill anymore. Up until this morning, I didn’t think I needed to be.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

  That sobered him up in a hurry, and his amusement faded away. “No, I don’t want any more children. Not now or ever.”

  She frowned and stared at him curiously. “Can I ask why?”

  He raised a brow at her. “Can I stop you?”

  “Probably not.” She shook her head, unable to stop her grin.

  “I didn’t think so. Let’s just say children are a gift but a hazard to one’s health. At least my children are. Amanda was small like you, and like you love to point out, I’m a giant. Medically speaking that doesn’t equal a good mix when delivering a baby.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve always heard it depends on how wide your hips are, not on how big or small you are.”

  He smiled despite himself. “I think you mean your pelvis. Not your hips.”

  “And there’s always a scheduled C-section, so there’s still hope for you, Doc,” she said, glossing over his comment. “I mean if you wanted a brother or sister for Trevor, that is.”

  “I grew up an only child and so did Amanda. We turned out just fine.”

  “That’s debatable,” Emma couldn’t resist adding but then admitted, “although, I grew up with a brother and a sister, and I’m just as messed up as you are.” She sighed. “I didn’t know if I wanted children because I’ve always been so focused on my career, but getting stranded out here has made me see I don’t want to die without leaving a legacy behind me. I know, stupid, right?”

  “Not at all.” He was a great listener: looking her in the eye, not trying to interrupt, and actually caring about what she had to say. He nodded in agreement. “I get that. This kind of experience can be life-changing. I see it all the time in my line of work. Makes a person want to put down roots, marry, and have a family.”

  “I could care less about having a husband. I haven’t exactly had much luck with men and don’t really like them at the moment. No offense. But maybe I’ll adopt a baby someday, or go to one of those sperm banks and have my own child. I could pick out a gorgeous, smart guy, who has an adventurous spirit.” She eyed him, thinking he fit the bill perfectly, now that she thought about it, but then she sighed with resignation. He was too damaged to ever entertain the idea; besides, she had a career to save and they were just friends. At least she thought they were. Actually, she didn’t really understand what they were.

  “You should do it,” he said with encouragement in his tone. “Like I said: children are a gift, and you certainly don’t need a husband to have one these days. I can’t imagin
e my life without Trevor. I never dreamed I’d have to imagine my life without his mother.”

  “Speaking of Amanda, I hope the Mandy Marie is okay. I’m going to see if I can find a signal to call for help.” Emma stood up and pulled out her phone.

  “I’ll pick up around camp. Holler if you find anything.”

  “I will.” She wandered off down the beach, holding her phone high with no luck.

  There had to be a way to get a signal. She glanced around and saw a tree that looked like she might be able to climb it. Anything for a story, she reminded herself. No, she was not the outdoorsy type, but how hard could climbing a tree be? Tucking her phone in her back pocket, she started grabbing branches and pulling herself up. Finding footholds and new branches to grab, she kept climbing and climbing and climbing until she reached the top.

  It was breezier up here, and the view was spectacular: miles of ocean with white caps from cresting waves in one direction and miles of treetops in various shades of green in the other direction with a cloudless baby-blue sky above. Grinning triumphantly, pride filled her over accomplishing her goal. Glancing down to let Logan know where she was, she let out a little yelp.

  She’d had no idea the tree was that high. It had to be twenty-five or thirty feet. Terrified, she didn’t have a clue how she was going to get down. Dr. Worrywart was going to kill her if she didn’t die by her own hand first. She took several deep breaths and told herself she could handle this. She’d made it this far; she might as well make the best of it.

  Carefully pulling out her phone, she held it up and relief surged through her. She had a signal. A weak one, but a signal no less. She quickly called 911 and told them what happened and to send the Coast Guard. She had no clue where they were. She tried to describe the island and then she heard her battery beep several times before it went dead.

  “Emma?” Logan called her name from down below, over and over.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and then let out a breath of resignation, knowing this wasn’t going to be pretty. “I’m up here.”

 

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