Persuaded

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by Misty Dawn Pulsipher


  “I thought you were too, that night you sent me to bed for being sick.”

  He turned to her. “You thought I was giving you a heads up?”

  “It seemed like something you would do. With us trying to be friends and all.”

  Derick’s eyes raked her face for a moment, as he took that in. “I asked you because I needed an outside opinion. After you told me what I already knew, I decided to stay on the Laconia for a few days while I worked out what to say. I was on my way back to Kelynch when I heard Eli’s phone call.”

  So that was why he’d been in no hurry to talk to Ella that night. Derick really had been there for Hanna—in fact, he’d risked a confrontation with Ella to tell her about Eli.

  “Looks like you’ve been found,” Derick said as Mary strode toward them.

  “Must be important if she’s risking sun exposure,” Hanna said, getting to her feet. With an apologetic glance at Derick, Hanna hurried toward Mary with her heart racing.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  ABDUCTION

  She was deep in the happiness of such misery, or the misery of such happiness, instantly.

  —Jane Austen, Persuasion

  The rest of the day passed in a daze for Hanna. She couldn’t stop thinking about Derick taking her hand and giving her that unfathomable look. Calling her amazing.

  Even a text from Eli, asking her to meet him at the marina for dinner, couldn’t derail her thoughts. One of the neighbors had gone door-to-door earlier, issuing invitations for a Jaws movie-athon on the beach. Hanna had already accepted, and besides, she wasn’t comfortable meeting Eli on his grounds given the new intelligence. Instead she invited him to the movie, belatedly considering the possibility that Derick might be there as well.

  Mary, who had always been squeamish when it came to horror films, declared her intention of staying in, freeing the rest of the household up to be thoroughly traumatized. Ella, evidently finding herself with an overwhelming amount of free time since that long walk with Derick, had made friends with a girl named Callie who was staying a few houses down from Uppercross. Around nine-thirty, the two of them tagged along with Charles and Hanna to the movie. Callie looked like a blond version of Ella. With the same perfect hourglass figure and long, white-blond hair, she could easily have been the poster child for Hawaiian Tropic. Hanna made sure not to sit next to them. She didn’t need them comparing their sun-bronzed legs to her corpse-white ones.

  Whoever was hosting the event had set up a projector and aimed it at a large white sheet draped over the volleyball net. The movie was already underway, the first victim of the film tearing her clothes off and diving into the water without a clue that she was about to be a midnight snack.

  A fizzy bomb of nerves erupted in Hanna’s stomach as she surreptitiously scanned the crowd for Derick or even the Crofts. Instead she found Eli walking toward her, and a little pit of disappointment settled in her stomach.

  He looked the same as always: brown curls, beach-casual clothing, twinkly eyes. But when Hanna looked at him now she couldn’t help noticing a deficit in her own feelings. Add to that the echo of Derick’s warning, I just get the feeling that Eli is not what he says he is . . . that there’s more going on below the surface, and Hanna had an absence of positive emotion where Eli was concerned.

  “Hi,” he said, pulling her in for a hug as he came upon her.

  Hanna squeezed him briefly and stepped back. “Feeling better, then?”

  “Much.” He paused, falling into step beside her as she scoped out a place to spread the blanket. “Man, it’s good to see you. You are a sight for sore eyes.”

  The cliché comment might have made her blush before, but now it just irritated her. She couldn’t think of a response, so she folded herself onto the blanket, and Eli followed suit.

  “How is the photography going?” Hanna asked, her eyes still darting around.

  “Really well. I think I have just about everything I need here. I actually wanted to . . .”

  Hanna didn’t hear what he wanted, because she had just spotted the Crofts coming toward them. Her heart skittered unevenly as Sophie waved and set up her blanket next to Hanna. Benny was there too, but no Derick. Charles attached himself to Adam as Ella introduced Benny to Callie.

  “Earth to Hanna . . .?”

  “Sorry,” Hanna said, turning to face Eli. “What did you say?”

  “I said, it’s weird that Ella is here without Derick. Don’t you think?”

  “I think they might be cooling things off,” Hanna offered vaguely, redirecting her eyes to the movie, coming to terms with her disappointment. Derick didn’t really care for throngs of people. Perhaps coming tonight had been too big a risk for him.

  “I wonder what brought that on?”

  “What brought what on?” Hanna repeated, but she didn’t register his answering clarification, because at that moment her phone buzzed in her pocket. The display told her it was a text from an unknown number.

  Looking for me? Try turning around.

  Hanna slowly pivoted, trying not to fly in a million directions at once. There he was, standing a few blankets back, lounging against the refreshment table. In the dim light from the moon and the movie she couldn’t see him clearly, but she could feel him there—as if tiny fibers of electricity were running between them. Derick was here.

  As calmly as she could manage, Hanna faced forward, trying with all her might to keep her face expressionless as she answered:

  H: How did you get my #?

  D: I’m super sneaky.

  H: Stalker.

  D: J Having fun?

  H: Not really

  D: Meet me at the pier in a few.

  Hanna’s heart was beating in her throat; she could hear the blood rushing in her ears, as if her veins had burst and her ear canals would soon be flooded with the stuff. How was she going to do this? It didn’t occur to her that it was rude to ditch Eli, that it was spontaneous and daring and reckless. The only thing she knew was she had to go.

  “Hey, you okay?” Eli asked in a dissatisfied tone. “You don’t seem like yourself tonight.”

  “I’m sorry, Eli. You’re right, I’m not really feeling well, and this gory movie isn’t helping. I think I’m going to just go home.”

  “Let me walk you back.”

  “You don’t have to,” Hanna said. “It’s just right over there.”

  “I want to.”

  Arg. Other than screaming You can’t come with me because I’m meeting Derick in secret! Hanna couldn’t really see a way out, so she agreed. While Eli was distracted brushing sand off his pants, she tapped out a quick message to Derick:

  Need more time.

  To which he responded with:

  I’ll wait

  Needing something to focus on other than her frayed nerves, Hanna turned to Eli as they walked to Uppercross.

  “Sorry I’ve been off tonight.”

  “No problem,” Eli assured, taking her hand as they walked. She had to resist the urge to let go. Doing so would bring on the conversation they needed to have, but tonight was not the time. Not when she had somewhere else she wanted to be.

  “Are you going to be around tomorrow?” Eli asked as they arrived at Uppercross.

  “There’s nothing going on that I know of,” Hanna qualified.

  “Okay. I’ll give you a call in the morning to see how you’re doing.”

  Nodding, Hanna moved for the door, but Eli grasped her hand and pulled her toward himself. She panicked. There was no way she could allow him to kiss her. Not now. Instead she hugged him tightly.

  “I don’t want to get you sick,” she explained to the side of his head. “You know, in case I’m coming down with something.”

  He shook his head at her, a wan smile curving his mouth. “See you tomorrow, crazy lady. Get some sleep.”

  As he walked away with his hands in his pockets, Eli threw one of his trademark dimpled smiles over his shoulder. It did absolutely nothing for her.

&nb
sp; Hanna let herself into the house. As much as she hated it, she would have to wait a few minutes for Eli to put some distance behind him before she went back out. The soundless house told Hanna that Mary and the boys were out cold. Checking the time, she saw that it was just after ten. She snuck upstairs to check her reflection. A flurry of nerves, she finger-combed her hair, splashed some water on her face, brushed her teeth, and considered putting on some mascara. Facing her reflection, she saw that it was hopeless. Her hair was a hectic mess, her clothing (knee-length cargo shorts and a fitted T-shirt) were plain and almost boyish, and she knew from experience that the high color in her face wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  The thought called up Derick’s last virtual words:

  I’ll wait.

  Derick was waiting for her. A nameless rush of something went through her at the thought—nausea? Depthless joy? Fear? Whatever it was, she liked it.

  With one last frenzied glance in the mirror, Hanna went back downstairs and let herself out of the house. Texting Derick to let him know she was on her way, Hanna scurried toward the pier.

  A gaggle of people met her coming the opposite direction, movie-athoners who had reached their tolerance for mechanical sharks and fake blood. To her dismay, Charles, Adam, and Sophie were among them.

  “There you are,” Charles scolded, “we were wondering where you went.”

  “Is the movie over already?” Hanna asked.

  Sophie made a disgusted noise. “The effects are craptastic. I can’t handle it.”

  Adam snorted. “Yeah, okay. She jumped about a foot in the air when that disembodied head popped out of the shipwreck. You should have seen it, Hanna.”

  Hanna stayed and listened for a moment, wondering how she could disappear unseen. As she turned toward the pier, they all fell into step behind her.

  Was there no mercy in the universe tonight?

  Pulling out her phone again, she typed:

  H: Every1 coming. Sorry :(

  D: Work your way to the back

  Hanna did as she was told, slowly falling behind the group. As they neared the pier, the three of them were still arguing, debating which Jaws sequel was better, two or three. She had just managed to slip behind Sophie, when a hand closed on her wrist and jerked her into the shadows of the pier.

  Just like that, her back was flush with Derick’s chest as he covered her mouth with one hand and held her to him with the other. Breathing sh in her ear, he let his hand drop from her mouth to bracelet her wrist. Hanna was unable to detain the grin from spreading across her face. As abductions went, this one was pretty good.

  It seemed they had gotten away with it until Sophie’s eyes combed warily over the black spot where they stood.

  “Where did Hanna go?” Charles asked, looking around.

  Sophie eyed the darkness for a second longer, then took Charles by the arm and led him on. “She probably went back to the house. I don’t think she was feeling good tonight.”

  Bless her!

  In some far corner of her mind, Hanna noted the triumphant bounce in Sophie’s step, but it was difficult to take anything else in during sensory overload. She stood with Derick, curling her free hand around the protective rod of his arm under her chin, listening to the retreating voices being swallowed by the tide. For a moment, it was as if everything in the world had been washed away, leaving only the feel of her toes burrowed into the sand, the cool water lapping at her ankles, the full moonlight coating the dark waves.

  The voices waxed closer, accompanied by the stampede of eager feet on the planks of the dock as the group marched obliviously over them.

  After the crowd had moved past them, Derick put a finger to his lips and tugged Hanna out from their hiding place. They crouched as they scurried over the sand toward the breakwater—as if they were on some secret-ops mission. They scaled the jagged rocks of the breakwater, scampering down the other side and out of sight.

  Laughing breathlessly over their clandestine victory, they dropped side by side onto the sand.

  “See?” Derick said, sounding a bit winded, “you have a sense of adventure after all. How did you give Eli the slip?”

  “Said I was sick, then doubled back.”

  “I bet that made him happy.” There was a smugness to Derick’s tone that gave Hanna a hopeful feeling. “Did you ask him about his phone call?”

  Hanna shook her head.

  “How was his nose?”

  “His nose?” Hanna repeated. “I didn’t really notice. Should I have?”

  Derick lifted a shoulder. “Not really. I was just wondering if it was broken or anything.”

  Hanna’s eyes went to the ridge of pink skin on Derick’s knuckles—barely noticeable now. He hadn’t come out and told her that he’d punched Eli, but she guessed as much. She decided to test her theory. “Looks like your hand is healing up good.”

  “It was worth it.” He propped his folded arms up on his knees and looked out at the water. Something about his posture made him seem more like the younger version of him that she remembered.

  ☼

  After a few moments of silence, Hanna reached out and adjusted Derick’s hei matau pendant, which was twisted around and lay against his back.

  Pulling her hand back, she asked, “What’s New Zealand like?”

  “Green.” He couldn’t resist teasing her, just a little.

  Hanna narrowed her eyes at his cheeky answer. “How long were you there?”

  “A few weeks. I put in at Auckland for supplies and a hot shower. Salt water spit baths get you only so far out there.”

  Hanna smiled nervously, dropping her eyes. In the bright moonlight Derick could still make out the flush coming onto her cheeks. His heart warmed at the sight. Hanna’s ready blush was the one thing about her appearance that had stayed with him all those months out on the water. It was the one image he could conjure up at will.

  “I heard another story in New Zealand,” Derick said, effortlessly hooking his audience.

  “Tell me?” she pled with her big blue eyes. He couldn’t have refused her anything at that point, even if he wanted to—which he didn’t.

  “It’s the story of the forbidden lovers, Hinemoa and Tutanekai.”

  Hanna bit her lip as she settled in for another tale.

  “Hinemoa was the daughter of a revered Maori chief,” Derick began. “Tutanekai was a lowly villager—the youngest in a poor family who lived on a neighboring island. The different tribes would come together to train their warriors, and it was at one of these gatherings that they fell in love. But tradition dictated that the tribe would choose Hinemoa’s husband. He had to be someone of equal standing, which left Tutanekai out.

  “So he would sit on his beach playing his flute and pining for what he couldn’t have, while Hinemoa listened to his song from her beach. Finally she’d had enough. Her people had hidden all the canoes to keep the lovers from meeting, so Hinemoa decided to swim over to Tutanekai’s island instead. She went to the Waikimihia—the warm pool on his island—and tricked one of Tutanekai’s servants into bringing him to meet her.”

  Derick finished with finality, earning a scowl from Hanna.

  “What happened next?” she pressed.

  “The tribe was so impressed by Hinemoa’s ingenuity that they agreed to the marriage.”

  “And then?”

  “They spent many steamy nights in the hot tub and had lots of Maori babies.”

  Hanna laughed freely, making Derick feel giddy. Was there anything better than a woman like Hanna laughing like that at something he said?

  “‘Waikimihia,’“ Hanna repeated in a voice of reverence. “Is Hinemoa’s pool an actual place you can visit?”

  “Yes. It’s a little remote, but if one was so inclined, it wouldn’t be impossible.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Like what? I’m out of stories, Banana.”

  “Everything! Everywhere you went on your sailing trips and everyone you met. All of it.�


  And so, he did. And from unmooring his boat from the dock in Oregon to bringing the Laconia back to the panhandle of Florida, Hanna never once yawned or let her eyes wander or made him feel smaller than the entire world in her eyes.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TURRETS and TOWERS

  “It is very bad to have children . . . that one can only keep in tolerable order by more cake than is good for them.”

  —Mrs. Musgrove, Persuasion

  When Hanna’s legs had been asleep for what felt like hours, she exhaled in defeat. “How long have we been here?” she asked with a heavy feeling in her mouth—as if her tongue had already gone to bed. A wash of light was just visible in the east, evidence of the night yielding to the dawn.

  “Long enough that my butt’s asleep,” Derick answered, pulling a laugh from Hanna. “It’s five-thirty,” he amended with a glance at his watch.

  Trying not to panic that the time had gotten away from her, Hanna slowly stood and stretched.

  Derick followed suit, shaking his hands and legs out. “Pins and needles.”

  She smiled. “I’d better get back.”

  “I’ll walk you,” Derick offered, gripping her hand to help her over the breakwater. When he let go, she swallowed her disappointment.

  They continued along the water’s edge in comfortable solitude. As they approached the houses, Hanna turned to Derick. “So, I’ll see you when I see you?”

  “Unless I see you first.”

  She grimaced at his sarcasm. “Bye,” she said, forcing her eyes away from him as she let herself into the house. Praying no one would be awake yet, Hanna picked her way stealthily up the stairs. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of—but somehow she doubted Ella would be thrilled with Hanna’s whereabouts.

  After making it undiscovered to her room, Hanna crashed into her bed, where she fell asleep almost instantly—with a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach.

 

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