by Marie Force
When she let Buddy out of the car, he bounded off ahead of her, romping his way across the open meadow that led to the red-and-white lighthouse. Sydney glanced up at the whirling beacon that alerted boaters to the island’s craggy southern shoreline and was mesmerized until a whip of wind grabbed her hair and sent it flying. She secured it with the hair tie she wore like a bracelet.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she whispered into the wind as she followed Buddy’s barking around the base of the lighthouse to the other side, where she found him being loved on by a petite woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. “Hi, there,” Sydney called. “Sorry to bother you.”
“He’s no bother. What’s his name?”
“Buddy.”
Buddy let out a bark at the sound of his name, making both women laugh.
“He’s adorable.”
Syd held out her hand to the other woman. “I’m Sydney Donovan.”
“Jenny Wilks, the lighthouse keeper.” She had friendly brown eyes, and her face was pink from the autumn chill. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Sydney took a long look up at the lighthouse and then back at Jenny. “What exactly is involved in keeping a lighthouse?”
Jenny’s dimpled grin gave her the look of a college co-ed even though Syd knew she was well into her thirties. “Fortunately, not much. Other than recording the weather conditions and some other data for the Coast Guard each day, it’s more or less an honorary position. You want to see the inside?”
“I’d love to, if I’m not putting you out.”
“Not at all. Come on in.”
Sydney whistled for Buddy to come with them and followed Jenny into what she referred to as the mudroom. Since Jenny kicked off her shoes, Sydney did the same and followed the other woman up a wrought-iron spiral staircase to a large, circular room that housed a galley-style kitchen and comfortable-looking sitting area. It had been updated with modern appliances and furniture she would’ve chosen for the space. The kitchen window looked out over the ocean, while the sitting room offered a sweeping view of the island that stretched all the way to the Salt Pond.
“Wow,” Sydney said. “This is amazing! I’ve been driving past this lighthouse all my life and had no idea what was inside. It’s so cozy!”
“I love it,” Jenny said as she led Sydney up another flight of stairs to the bedroom and bathroom.
“Do you ever get lonely out here all by yourself?”
Jenny shrugged. “Sometimes, but I’ve been taking the opportunity to indulge in some hobbies I’d let slide.” She gestured to the easel that was set up next to the bathroom window.
“May I?” Syd asked.
“Sure.”
Sydney wandered to the easel for a closer look at the detailed painting Jenny was doing of the island. “This is really good!”
“Do you think so? I’ve been thinking it’s total crap.”
Sydney laughed. “I know that feeling. I’ve ventured into interior design in the last couple months. It’s been a hobby up to now, and I’m finding it’s a much different experience to create drawings of what a finished room might look like than it is to dabble with pillow placement.”
“That actually sounds like fun.”
“It is, once I get past the ‘it looks like crap’ phase of the process. This,” she said, referring to the painting, “is definitely not crap.”
“Well, that’s good to know. To thank you for your opinion, I can offer you coffee, tea, soda or water. What’s your pleasure?”
“Coffee sounds good. I never got my second cup this morning.” She’d been too busy having mad, crazy shower sex with her fiancé. The word sent a flutter of excitement rippling through her.
“Right this way,” Jenny said, leading Syd to the stairs.
Syd stole a glance at the photo of a smiling, handsome young man that sat on the table next to Jenny’s bed. Sydney assumed he was Toby, the fiancé Jenny had lost on September 11. With Buddy on her heels, she followed Jenny down the stairs to the kitchen. “Are you sure I’m not keeping you?”
“Positive. It’s nice to have the company.”
“There’s a whole town full of people who’d love to meet you, you know,” Syd offered tentatively.
Jenny filled the coffeepot with water and turned to Syd. “Did they send you to find out if I’m antisocial or something?”
“Nothing quite like that. We were hoping you’re doing okay out here all by yourself.”
Jenny leaned back against the counter. “Did you read my letter?”
“Yes.”
Jenny nodded. “So you know my story.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
Sydney swallowed hard and forced herself to say it, to give words to their common bond. “For what it’s worth, I’ve been there myself. My husband and children were killed by a drunk driver almost two years ago.”
“Oh my God,” Jenny said. “God. How do you ever get past that?”
“The same way you’ve gotten past your loss—one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.”
Jenny brought two steaming mugs of coffee along with cream and sugar to the sitting area. “How old were your kids?”
“Seven and five.”
Jenny shook her head with dismay. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It was a terrible time, and I miss them every day.”
“I know what you mean. Not a day goes by…” Shrugging, she didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
“There’re some really amazing people who live here year-round,” Syd said as she stirred cream and sugar into her coffee. “We have a lot of fun. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to introduce you to everyone.”
“As long as you’re not talking about matchmaking, I might be game for that.”
Sydney laughed. “Nothing like that. Most of the guys in our group are spoken for, anyway.”
“And you?” Jenny asked, zeroing in on the ring on Sydney’s left hand. “You’re spoken for, too?”
Sydney felt her face heat with embarrassment. “Officially, as of last night.” She held out the ring so Jenny could get a closer look.
“It’s beautiful. Very unique. Mine had an antique setting, too.”
The note of wistfulness in Jenny’s voice had Syd regretting that she’d been so quick to show off her ring.
“Now, don’t do that,” Jenny said in a chastising tone.
“Do what?” Sydney asked, startled.
“Feel bad about showing off your ring. Naturally, you’re very excited. I’m happy for you. After what you’ve been through, you certainly deserve it.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.”
“So who’s the lucky guy?”
“Believe it or not, my high school boyfriend, Luke Harris. He was good enough to forgive me for leaving him for another man when I was in college. We reconnected earlier this summer, and now I can’t imagine life without him.”
“Does it feel weird to be in love again? I think about that sometimes… What it might be like. Would I feel disloyal to Toby? That kind of thing.”
“It feels wonderful to be in love again, but I know what you mean about feeling disloyal. I went through that when Luke and I were first together—especially the physical part. I thought a lot about Seth, my husband, and what he would want for me. I like to think he would’ve wanted me to be happy, you know?”
Jenny nodded. “Toby would want that, too. I suspect he’d be appalled to know I’m still stuck in first gear. Even since I’ve been here. . . I have no idea how to move forward. Toby would probably give me a swift kick in the ass,” she said with a laugh. “He wasn’t one for sitting around feeling sorry for himself.”
“I’m sure you haven’t done that, Jenny.”
“I’ve done some of that,” she said with a smile.
“You’ve probably done the best you could, and that’s all any of us can do in situations like ours.”
&
nbsp; “I suppose. I’m feeling ready to get unstuck, but I’m finding that’s easier said than done.”
Sydney rested a hand on the other woman’s arm. “Let us help you. I promise our group of friends is very welcoming and supportive, and we’d love to have you.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It is. All you have to do is say yes. ‘Yes, Syd, I’d love to come to your house for a small gathering on Saturday night to meet your friends.’”
“Yes, Syd,” Jenny said, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’d love to come to your house on Saturday to meet your friends.”
“Perfect.”
Buddy let out a bark of agreement that made both women laugh.
Sydney drove away from the lighthouse a short time later feeling energized by her visit with Jenny. Reaching out to her had been the right thing to do. She was almost home when Luke called.
“How’d it go?” he asked without preamble, which told her how concerned he’d been.
“Better than expected. She’s really very lovely. We had a nice chat.”
“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you didn’t find it upsetting.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry. And by the way, we’re having a small gathering of our closest friends on Saturday.”
“We can’t have a ‘small’ gathering with our closest friends.”
Sydney laughed. “I know, but I want Jenny to meet everyone, so I talked her into coming over Saturday.” She paused before she added, “You don’t mind, do you? It’s bad enough that I’ve moved in and totally taken over your house—”
“It’s our house, Syd. Whatever you want is fine with me.”
“That’s sweet of you to say. I’m very lucky to have such an accommodating fiancé.”
“So am I,” he said in a suggestive tone.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re no longer talking about entertaining?”
“I find your accommodation extremely entertaining.”
“Luke!”
His dirty laugh made all her nerve endings stand up and take notice. “Are you blushing?” he asked.
“Shut up, and go back to work.”
“You’re blushing. I know you are.”
“Lalala, hanging up now.”
“You did a nice thing, Syd, going to see her. I’m proud of you for doing that.”
Touched by his praise, she said, “Thanks. Let’s hope she still thinks so when she gets a load of our ‘small’ group of close friends.”
Chapter 10
On Friday afternoon, Owen drove Laura’s car to the ferry landing an hour before the three-thirty ferry to the mainland. He eyed the darkening sky and the frothy seas. “Gonna be a rough ride.”
“That’s okay.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to go today. Another day or two won’t matter.”
“Yes, it will,” Laura said. “I need to get this over with. I can’t think about it anymore.”
“Do you get seasick?”
“I never have before. What about you?”
“Doesn’t usually bother me.”
“Okay, then. We’re going.” She folded her hands in her lap and stared out the window. As the week had progressed and her date with Justin drew nearer, she’d become more and more tense and withdrawn.
She’d slept in his arms every night since the first night they spent together, driving him crazy with her nearness, her scent and her overwhelming allure. He couldn’t wait until they were able to take their relationship to the next level. They had to get through today, or so he told himself. A sense of foreboding had sharpened with every passing day, ramping Owen’s anxiety to previously unheard-of levels.
Laura’s anxiety was also palpable. Her hands were so tightly linked in her lap that her knuckles had turned white. Owen reached over to rest his hand on top of hers.
She turned one of her hands up to press her palm to his.
They sat like that for a long time, until the ferry coming from the mainland appeared out of the mist, bobbing and rolling in the furious surf. He felt her hand begin to tremble under his. His heart hurt to know she was scared of taking the ferry but so determined to keep the appointment with her estranged husband that she was putting on a brave façade.
“Baby, why don’t we wait? There’s no need to—”
“I can’t wait, Owen. I need to get this over with. Please.”
He could deny her nothing when she sounded so undone. “Okay.”
They watched the unloading of the arriving ferry, the passengers walking on watery legs as they disembarked—more than a few of them looking green around the gills. The ferry crew took fire hoses to the boat, probably to clean up the puke. Fabulous.
One of the employees rapped on the driver’s side window.
Owen rolled it down.
“Rough ride today,” the young man said. “We’re issuing vouchers to anyone who wants to go another time.”
“We have an appointment we need to keep,” Owen said.
The kid shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said and moved on to the next car.
In the rearview mirror, Owen watched several cars drive away from the line. Even though his better judgment was telling him to do the same, Owen followed the hand signals of the ferry staff and backed the car onto the boat. With the car settled on the lower deck, he followed Laura upstairs. They had their pick of the benches and picnic tables. Laura dropped her purse on one of the benches.
Owen sat next to her. She had worn a black leather coat over a black turtleneck sweater and jeans tucked into boots. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun that made her look classy and sexy and untouchable. If he hadn’t known her so well, that aura of refined class would’ve been off-putting to him.
Women who looked like her usually weren’t interested in guys who played a guitar for a living or called an old van home. For the first time in his adult life, Owen wished he’d made different choices. He wished he’d been able to go to college and pursue a “real” career, so he would be the kind of man who deserved a woman like her.
The thought filled Owen with an overwhelming sense of insecurity. He’d never experienced anything quite like it. Imagining the suit-clad lawyer she’d married, Owen realized he’d never measure up to that. Not in this or any other lifetime. So what was she even doing with him? What did he have to offer her?
His stomach began to hurt as he imagined her seeing her fancy, successful husband and realizing she’d made a huge mistake replacing him with a guy who barely remembered to comb his hair most days.
The blare of the ferry’s horn, signifying imminent departure, jarred Owen out of the increasingly disturbing thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked, tuned in to him as always.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true. Your whole body is rigid, which is very unlike you.”
“I lied,” he said with a smile. “I do get seasick.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. “You do? Oh my God, Owen! You should’ve told me!”
He rested a finger on her sweet lips. “I’m kidding.”
“Oh, good,” she said, clearly relieved.
The ferry cleared the breakwater and took a precarious dip and roll that drew a gasp from Laura. She looked up at him with barely concealed fear marking her gorgeous face.
“It’s okay.” Owen put an arm around her and drew her in close to him. “They wouldn’t have gone if it wasn’t safe. Remember that.”
“Gotcha.”
The ferry slammed through the waves as it hugged the coast of the island. Once they cleared the bluffs at the north end, however, the seas got measurably larger without the protection of the island.
Laura moaned with dismay.
Shit, Owen thought. We never should’ve done this. The ferry crested a huge wave and sunk like a stone into a valley between waves. Across the way from them, a mother held a barf bag for her heaving child. Her gaze met Owen’s, her fear palpable. Owen smiled at her, trying to re
assure her as best he could.
The pounding went on for what felt like forever. While he’d never gotten seasick before, Owen’s stomach was seriously unhappy with this ride.
Laura let out a whimper, and he released his hold on her so he could see her face. Tears filled her eyes, and her complexion had gone beyond pale to pasty.
“Are you okay?”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.
Owen released her. “Hold on to the bench.” He got up and staggered to the case bolted to the wall that held barf bags and grabbed a couple before working his way back to her. In the short time it took him to get the bags, she had gone from ghostly to green.
She took a bag from him and bent at the waist, trying to breathe through the nausea.
As he rubbed a hand over her back, Owen glanced outside, hoping for signs of the mainland, but all he saw was mist and dark clouds and stormy seas. A glance at his watch told him they still had twenty minutes to go. Christ, has an hour ever passed so slowly?
“How’re you doing, Princess?”
She shook her head and gave up the fight, heaving into the bag.
The same feeling of helplessness he’d experienced when she’d battled morning sickness assailed him. He did what he could for her, holding her shoulders as she retched. When she was done, he took the bag and handed her a new one, wishing he’d listened to his better judgment and insisted they postpone this trip.
He bobbed and weaved his way to the trash can and bought a bottle of water from the concession stand, which wasn’t doing much business in light of the high seas. Wetting a napkin, he handed it to Laura.
She wiped her mouth and face.
“Do you feel better now?”
She shook her head.
“Do you think you could take a drink?”
“I’d be afraid to.”
“We’re almost there.” Owen still couldn’t see land, but surely any minute now…
The child across the way had exhausted herself and slept with her head in her mother’s lap. The mom’s face was pale and pinched as she fought her own battle with nausea. At one of the picnic tables, two young men were asleep with their heads cushioned on their arms, oblivious to the rough seas.
