Stranded with the Quarterback

by Elana Johnson

  Maine looked at her, wonder in his face. “Really? That’s fascinating.”

  “Not all of us are world travelers,” she teased.

  He chuckled and went back to the instructions. “I’m not either,” he said. “That’s been one of the worst parts of being with the Orcas. The travel across the ocean sucks the life right out of me. Not a fan.”

  Orchid stayed crouched next to him as he pulled out the fire starting chips. “Do you see yourself staying with the Orcas? Or…?” She let her question hang there, because she didn’t quite know how to give it a voice.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I usually just go where the money is.”

  “I see,” Orchid said, straightening. Her back hurt anyway, and she couldn’t hold such a position for much longer. Her knees ached too, and her heart seemed to be skipping every other beat.

  So there was no point in her perpetuating this relationship. He was just going to follow the money wherever it took him.

  Tears filled her eyes as stupidity flowed through her. She wanted to say something to him. Ask him what the heck they were doing out there if he could leave in a few months. At least excuse herself.

  She said nothing as she walked away.

  “Orchid,” he called after her, but she just kept going.

  Chapter Ten

  Maine watched Orchid walk away from him, his heart sinking all the way to the ground. “Idiot,” he said to himself, torn between running after her and starting the fire. He knew she wanted to dry off. She wanted to eat. He wanted both of those things too.

  And maybe, just maybe, he’d been fantasizing about holding her by the fire as the stars came out tonight. Whispering his dreams of owning an ice cream shop with football-themed flavors to her. Finding out more about her and her daughter.

  But now, he’d told her he just went wherever the money was. As if he needed money. He didn’t. Not really.

  So what do you need? he asked himself as Orchid’s blonde head disappeared along the horizon. He worried about her, because she went through periods of instability. But she was strong and capable, and she had good ideas. She’d be okay out on the island, and he turned his attention back to the fire.

  He had no idea what he needed. As he stacked the chips and stuffed tinder underneath them, he knew what he wanted.

  Something meaningful to fill his time with. Football had always done that, because it gave him human interaction and provided him with a way of making a living. But he couldn’t cuddle with his teammates or the pigskin, and he really wanted someone to share his life with.

  He wanted the orca-shaped fudge pieces in peanut butter ice cream. He wanted a family.

  After striking the match, he held it to the fuzzy tinder, which caught the flame instantly. The fire chips started to blaze as well, and Maine turned to get the bigger pieces of wood. He broke apart the table and fed pieces to the growing blaze, soon having a cracking fire with smoke lifting into the air at the edge of the beach.

  Pride filled him, and he really wished Orchid was there to share this victory with. He turned back to the tree house, where Tanner had gone hours ago. He climbed up the ladder quickly to find the other man asleep, his skin a bit waxy.

  “Tanner,” he said, alarm filling him. “Hey, man. Are you okay?” He moved over to him as the other man opened his eyes. “Come down to the beach for a bit.”

  Tanner let Maine help him up, and he got him resting against the tree trunk, the fire several feet away. He dashed back up to the tree house to get a few potatoes and beets to toss into the fire.

  He nestled them near the edges, having no idea how to cook in a fire pit and hoping for the best. He turned back to Tanner. “I’m going to go find Orchid, okay? If it starts to burn too low, toss another piece of wood on it.” He indicated the pile he’d put next to Tanner.

  “Okay,” Tanner said, but he still sounded half-asleep.

  “We’ll eat when I get back.” Maine stooped to pick up the backpack, surprised Orchid had left it behind, and started walking in the same direction she’d gone. Hopefully, she hadn’t decided to circumnavigate the island or anything crazy like that.

  “Orchid?” he called once he’d passed the garden. He’d never been past that on this side of their camp before, and somehow the trees and paths and beach over here looked foreign. She didn’t answer, so he kept going, hoping he could hear her if she did call out to him.

  He didn’t go much farther before he caught sight of movement up ahead. He paused for a moment, squinting into the sunlight, before he realized it was Orchid and not a wild pig. She kept reaching up into the branches of a tree, and he recognized the movement as picking something.

  “Orchid,” he called again, and she turned toward him. She didn’t smile, but he pressed on toward her, finally arriving at the almond tree.

  “Almonds.” She acted like he’d said nothing idiotic, but he knew he had. He also didn’t know how to bridge this new gap between them.

  “You left the backpack,” he said, setting it down.

  She didn’t respond, and he realized she was just dropping the nuts on the ground. He quickly swept his shirt off and started picking them up, using his clothes as a hammock to carry the food in.

  “Look,” he said, keeping his eyes on the sand. His fingers hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt. “I know I sounded like a fool back there.”

  “I just don’t see the point of us…yeah. I don’t see the point of us. So let’s just keep each other alive until help arrives. Then you can go back to your life, and I’ll go back to mine.”

  Maine stood up, a raging river flowing through him now. “That’s unfair.”

  “It is?” She faced him, her own anger evident as it washed across her face. “I’ll tell you what’s unfair. You acting like you like me. Kissing me under that waterfall. Making me believe that we could have something when we got back to Getaway Bay. I have a daughter, Maine. That’s what’s unfair.” Her eyes shone like glass, but not a single tear fell.

  “I didn’t lead you on,” he said, his fingers clenching around an almond.

  She laughed, but it was full of bitterness. “Well, you’re not going to be following the money in Getaway Bay. Not forever.” She went back to plucking almonds, but it was more brutal now.

  “Maybe I don’t want to play football anymore. Have you ever thought of that?”

  “Why would I think that?” she asked. “You didn’t say that. You’re only thirty-one. You’re the starting quarterback for the Orcas. Your whole future is in front of you. Why would I even think of that?” She faced him again, her blue eyes shooting fire at him. “I only know what you tell me.”

  “I’m telling you now,” he said, swallowing. “And I’ve never told anyone this before. So maybe it’s hard for me. Maybe we’re not all great at saying what we feel.”

  “I’m not great at that either,” she said. “You’re the first man I’ve been remotely interested in, and it’s just…not fair.” She shook her head and looked away, some of her anger fleeing as she did.

  “Hey.” Maine stepped around her and made her look at him. “Hey, I’m not leaving right now.”

  “I’m not bringing you into my life—into my daughter’s life—only to have you leave next spring when you get traded to the Pirates.”

  “Ew,” he said. “I would never go play for the Pirates.”

  “You would if they paid you thirty million dollars.” She glared up at him. “Tell me you wouldn’t.”

  Maine sighed. “Maybe I would have before I met you,” he said quickly. “But Orchid….” A storm surged through him. “I really like you. I’m not playing games with you. And I want to meet your daughter and see if she’ll like me too. And I want to open an ice cream shop that sells football-themed flavors.”

  He sucked in a breath, feeling weak and strong all at the same time.

  Orchid searched his face. “What?”

  Maine dropped to the ground again, picking up almonds like his life depen
ded on it. “You heard me.” He filled his shirt while she stood there, the weight of her eyes on the back of his head.

  He finally stood, all the nuts securely tucked into his T-shirt. “I’m headed back. There’s a fire going, and I put in some food to cook.” He walked away, because she still hadn’t said anything, and he’d never told anyone about his ice cream dream.

  A pipe dream, he told himself, though he had a notebook full of ideas for flavors. He hadn’t tried any recipes yet, nor did he have any idea for a name of the place, or where it would be. Nothing.

  He had nothing.

  And without Orchid, he really had nothing.

  “Maine,” she called, and he turned back despite himself. She ran up to him. “Wow, you’re really deaf. I called your name three times.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” He started walking again, the almonds heavier than he’d anticipated.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I maybe jumped to some conclusions about you.”

  “Most people do,” he said, wishing she’d been different. He really, really wanted her to be different.

  “Maine, can you just stop for a second?”

  He did, his teeth grinding together. “What?”

  “Do you really like me?”

  “Of course,” he said. More than she knew. More than he knew, and that scared him a little bit. A woman in his life, especially one with a daughter, would change everything.

  “Are you ready to retire?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I think we better be honest,” she said grimly.

  “No, I’m not ready to retire,” he said. “Not right now. But guess what, Orchid? I don’t have to leave the Orcas. They like me there, and if I go into the office tomorrow and ask for a five-year contract, I’ll probably get it.” He couldn’t guarantee anything, but he certainly wasn’t leaving next week. Or even next month.

  Now next year….

  Maybe.

  But looking at Orchid standing in front of him, Maine knew that he wouldn’t.

  “Do you really want to meet my daughter?” she asked next.

  “Of course.”

  “And you really want to open an ice cream shop?”

  He stared straight at her, trying to decide if she found the idea ludicrous or not. “Yes.”

  Her face finally cracked as a small smile curved her lips. “What did you put in the fire to eat?”

  “Potatoes and beets.” He started walking again, his steps filled with much less anger now. “And you should know I’ve never cooked in a fire before, so they’ll probably be half-raw.”

  Orchid giggled, and the sound tripped something in Maine. He paused again and lowered the almond bundle to the ground. “Orchid, I know I’ve said it before, but I’m going to say it again. I really like you.” He gathered her into his arms, glad when she came willingly. “I went on that cruise hoping to meet someone,” he whispered into her hair. “And I did. So things are changing. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to.”

  He pulled back and looked at her, almost desperate for her to believe him. “Okay? Can you understand that?”

  “I’ll try,” she said, her voice high and tinny. “I’m trying.”

  “Me too.” He leaned down and touched his lips to hers, a quick kiss that said almost as much as their more passionate ones under the waterfall.

  They walked back to their camp together. Sure enough, the veggies were only done on one side, and Maine turned them while Orchid tried to wake up Tanner.

  “He’s not well,” she said a few moments later. “I made him take some pills, but we’ve got to get him off this island.”

  Maine stared out at the water, wishing a boat would appear on the horizon.

  Any minute now, it would.

  Any minute….

  Any minute….

  Any minute….

  Chapter Eleven

  Orchid woke the next morning, the sunlight already bright and baking the day. She hadn’t heard a rooster. Hadn’t heard Maine when he’d gotten up and left the tree house. Hadn’t heard Tanner do the same.

  She sat up, alone in the shelter and wondering what time it was. She didn’t like being alone, and she quickly ran her fingers through her hair, pulled it into a ponytail, and shimmied down the ladder to the beach.

  Where she was also alone.

  The fire smoldered, and she hastened to put another piece of the broken tabletop on it. If they didn’t have to use another match today, that counted for something. She hoped.

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, glancing around. Where had they gone? Tanner had looked a couple of steps away from passing out last night. Maine had helped him into the tree house early, and then come back to the fire, where he and Orchid talked and laughed softly, kissed and finally gone up to bed.

  With the fire stoked and her hunger kindled, Orchid climbed back into the tree house just as a major squabbling sound lifted into the air. She darted to the back of the structure, where she and Maine usually slept, to see chickens lifting into the air.

  They could fly for short distances, and something had clearly frightened these birds. A man yelled, and all at once, Orchid knew what Tanner and Maine were up to.

  They were getting breakfast.

  Her heart pounded at the continued yelling and squawking, but she decided she was glad she wasn’t there. She didn’t need to see death today.

  Things quieted down, and she hurried to grab several potatoes and carrots, cradling them in her shirt so she could climb down from the tree. She walked through the hot sand to the water and rinsed them off, something Maine hadn’t done the previous night. But she had no way to peel the vegetables, and she needed whatever nutrients they had anyway.

  Back at the fire, she poked around with their fire stick to make a little section of just coals, and she nestled the veggies in to get toasty and soft. Only a few minutes later, Maine’s voice could be heard, and she went to the path that led to the chicken meadow.

  He laughed, his voice booming through the sky, as he came into view. Orchid’s pulse hummed now, because he was so tall, and so good-looking. And she knew he had a good heart too—and he was carrying two chickens by their feet.

  Catching sight of her, he beamed and started walking faster. “We got four chickens,” he said proudly, holding them out as if she couldn’t see them.

  “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Tanner added from behind Maine.

  “That’s great,” Orchid said, still thinking about how much wood they’d need to roast the chickens. Maine approached, and most of her cares and worries fled under the umbrella of his happiness.

  “Hey, sweets,” he said, drawing the dead birds behind him as he leaned down to kiss her. Orchid had never wanted to brush her teeth as badly as she did then. But she kissed him anyway, a little surprised he didn’t seem to care about the display of affection in front of Tanner.

  “Good job keeping the fire going,” Tanner said, stepping past them. “Now we just have to figure out how to pluck these chickens and how to cook them.”

  Orchid pulled back and looked up at Maine. “Should I go get some wood to keep the fire going?”

  “If you wait a bit, we can take the tarp and go together.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “He seems to be doing better.”

  “He said whatever magic pills you gave him last night, he wants more.” Maine chuckled, moved past her, and he and Tanner started discussing the best way to get breakfast in their bellies.

  Orchid didn’t particularly want to witness a beheading, and she did want fresh water for breakfast. Geared up with the backpack, the three bottles they had, and the bucket, she said, “I’ll go get water. Be back soon.”

  “Okay,” Tanner and Maine said at the same time, and she took the path that led more directly to the waterfall.

  She didn’t particularly like going off on her own, but she had the all-in-one tool in her pocket, and she knew the way there and back. It was a short se
ven-minute walk without the water, though she knew it would be harder and consume more energy on the way back.

  She’d just filled everything and stuck the water bottles in her backpack when a growl sounded behind her.

  Spinning, she kicked the bucket, spilling some of the water. But that didn’t matter when she came face-to-face with a black boar, his long, white tusks the biggest she’d ever seen. Of course, she’d never seen an animal like this in real life. Didn’t matter. The fear pounding through her was just as real.

  She held out her hand like that would stop the pig from charging. He simply growled again, though the sound didn’t sound like a dog or a cat or a lion. It definitely emanated from down inside the boar’s throat, and it definitely made Orchid want to run.

  Trying to keep her eyes on the boar and search for a way out of its path at the same time proved difficult. She finally gave up staring into the pig’s beady eyes and scanned for an escape. The pool where she and Maine had gotten their water was enclosed with rock walls on three sides, with the waterfall at the back. If she could grab the backpack and sprint several yard to her right, she could jump up on a ledge there.

  Orchid had no idea if pigs could jump or not. She knew they couldn’t fly, so she bent slowly, her hand searching the empty air for the top of the backpack. She couldn’t find it, and everything in her screamed at her to run! Run now!

  Leaving the backpack behind, she sprinted for the rocks on her right, the squealing sound of the pig filling the air behind her, in front of her, everywhere.

  She leapt, sure she was about to be gorged by boar tusks, and her knee and ankle wobbled as she landed on the ledge. She found her balance on both feet, her face only inches from rocks. She looked up and found another place to climb. She hadn’t been outdoors much in years, but she managed to find enough foot and hand holds to get her up even farther.

  Rocks crashed below her, but she refused to look down. It sounded like hooves on cement, and she didn’t want to know if that boar could climb rocks the way she could. She simply had to out-climb it.

  So up, up, up she went, her fingers bleeding and pain radiating through that knee and ankle that had taken the brunt of her weight when she’d jumped. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to be pig food today.