A Dolphin's Gift

by Watters, Patricia

  Mike pursed his lips. "I don't know how to play."

  "That's okay," Will said. "Just punch out a few notes."

  Mike played a few notes and stopped. "I can't play," he said, then stepped to the rail.

  Nellie moved to stand beside him. "They're beautiful, aren't they," she said, watching an orca glide around the boat in a wide circle.

  Mike's eyes followed the large dorsal fins cutting the surface of the water. "I guess."

  "And they can count," Will said.

  Mike's brows drew together. "How do you know that?"

  "Once in a session with a single orca, I played a sequence of beats—three beats, two beats, one beat and then nothing, and the orca vocalized the same sequence—three, two, one and silence. I repeated several times to make sure it wasn't a coincidence, but every time, it was the same, and I knew the orca was counting."

  Mike's face brightened again. "He did? For real?"

  "He sure did," Will said. He caught the flicker of excitement in Mike's eyes. "We also know that their clicks are a kind of sonar, bouncing off objects and returning as echoes to tell them the size, shape, and even the material of an object."

  "You mean like bats?" Mike said. "We learned in school they do something like that."

  "Right," Will replied. "And talking about school, they're also teachers."

  "What do you mean?"

  Will rested his hand lightly on Mike's shoulder, felt his resistance, and removed his hand. "One time, when an orca made a series of sounds, I tried to repeat them. When I couldn't get the sound right, the orca slowed the whole thing down and repeated the sounds in half-time, like I was a slow learner."

  Mike looked at him, his face eager, as if about to reply, then he turned to watch the whale, a slight smile on his lips, and Will knew they'd made a small step forward, though the path they were heading down would ultimately lead to a dead end. But for now, Will felt he had something to offer the kid, if only fond memories of interacting with a pod of orca on his first trip on the Isadora with his mother.

  Shortly afterward, the whale left and didn't return, so Will lowered the kayak into the water and prepared to paddle Nellie and Mike, one at a time, the short distance to shore to search the rocky beaches for shells. He decided that in the clear light of day, the two would be safe while on the beach, where he'd be able to see them from the boat, if anyone approached.

  Mike said nothing as Will explained what to do, but when the boy lowered himself into the cockpit, Will could see sparks of excitement in his eyes and he resolved to take Mike in the kayak later, and show him how to handle the craft and let him experience the excitement of bobbing on the crest of waves and dipping into the troughs between. Why it seemed important to gain Mike’s trust and admiration, Will couldn’t explain, since he had no intention of committing to him or his mother on a permanent basis. So perhaps it was simply a need to reach out to a fatherless boy, nothing more.

  After leaving Nellie and Mike on shore, Will returned to the Isadora to document his session with the orca. As he sat in the wheelhouse, recording his findings, he glanced out the window and noted that the small trawler he'd seen earlier was back. Lifting the binoculars to his eyes, he saw three men aboard, all looking toward the Isadora. None resembled the old man from the marina, but one could be the man Mike described—large, bald-headed. None of the men were dressed for fishing. One pointed at the Isadora, and immediately, the baldheaded man went into the cabin of the trawler. He returned with binoculars, which he raised to his eyes, then looked directly at Will, though the man might not have seen him standing behind the window, with glare from the sky reflected against the glass. But there was no question all three men were watching the Isadora. Will turned from the window and made a mental note to keep an eye on the location of the trawler and the activities aboard. He’d also spare Nellie the worry of knowing they were being watched. Another burden she didn’t need.

  CHAPTER 8

  That night at dinner, Mike chattered excitedly about their explorations on shore, and about the session with the orca. He seemed especially interested in the kayak, and asked several questions. Seeing Mike's enthusiasm, Will suggested they take the kayak out the following day. Nellie wasn't sure she liked that idea, but seeing the gleam in Mike's eyes she didn't want to say no, at least not yet. Shortly afterwards, Mike washed and went to bed without a fuss. Nellie noticed that, ever since they'd left on the cruise, he'd been going to bed easier, and his sleep had been sound, with no dreams. Remembering how well she'd slept on the boat as a child, she attributed it to the fresh sea air and the gentle rocking of the Isadora.

  After changing into her gown and slipping on her robe, Nellie went to the fo'c'sle to check on Mike. Finding him sleeping, she closed the door. Although every evening before this, she'd joined Will on deck, tonight she intended to return to her stateroom, not wanting a repeat of what happened on the bridge. She'd even told Will not to expect her. But catching a view of the stars in a clear moonless sky, she dismissed the little voice in her head telling her this was a really, really bad idea, and ventured onto the deck. She found Will sitting on a sleeping bag on the afterdeck, just as before, staring out over the water.

  He looked at her in surprise. "I thought you weren't coming tonight," he said, moving over so she could sit beside him. "What made you change your mind?"

  Nellie lowered herself to the sleeping bag, keeping some distance between them, and replied. "The stars. They're never as bright in the city, and I just decided to come."

  "Then I must have a lucky star up there somewhere," Will said, "because you said you weren't coming, and I was hoping you'd change your mind and now you're here."

  Nellie glanced at him. "Just to let you know, Mike's dead to the world."

  Will eyed her dubiously. "Does that mean what I think?"

  "No," Nellie said. "I was just passing on information." At least she thought that's what she was doing, although the idea of picking up where they'd left off in the wheelhouse had been occupying her mind.

  Feeling achy from the day on the beach, she pressed her hands to the small of her back and stretched, while rotating her head and wiggling her shoulders. "I guess I'm not cut out for such heavy beach combing," she said. "Two hours of walking on soft sand has muscles aching in my legs, and I've got kinks in my back and shoulders that won't quit."

  "It just so happens kinks are my specialty," Will said. "Turn around and sit right here." He spread his legs and patted the sleeping bag between them.

  Nellie ignored the same little voice now telling her that letting Will massage her shoulders and back was an invitation for him to do a lot more than just get rid of kinks, and turned her back to him, moving to sit between his legs. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and with his thumbs, began gently kneading the muscles between her shoulder blades.

  "Umm, that helps," Nellie said, feeling her body relax under the firm, gentle pressure of Will’s thumbs as they rubbed and kneaded her sore muscles. "I think you've missed your calling," she said, dreamily. "You should be a masseuse."

  Will laughed lightly. "I'd switch from being a marine biologist in an instant if all my customers would feel so good under my hands," he said. Little by little he made his way down Nellie's back, his thumbs circling and pressing into the long muscles on either side of her backbone, while his fingers moved down. But gradually, the pressure of his thumbs lessened, and his hands moved around to capture the fullness of her breasts while also teasing her nipples.

  Nellie's heart quickened, and her breath grew heavy, and her lungs seemed trapped for air as Will's fingers stroked and teased.

  "Am I crossing the boundary?" Will asked, while concentrating on her nipples until they were hard nubs and tingles coursed down to center between her legs.

  "Yes," Nellie said, dreamily.

  "Then you won't mind if I do this." Will drew her robe open and cupped her breasts through her gown and gently kneaded.

  "I mind only because I'm wanting you to do mo
re, so that's why I'm doing this." She took Will's hands from her breasts, then leaned back against him and pulled his hands around her middle. "I think it's best they stay right here."

  Will kissed her on the side of the face. "I could disagree, but I'll go along with it."

  Nellie rested her head back and gave a soft little moan of contentment. As she absorbed the warmth of Will's chest against her back, and felt the heavy beating of her heart against his arms, a vagrant thought wandered into her head: how much she’d like to have a child with Will, maybe a little girl. Mike would be a doting big brother. But he’d have to first accept Will, which he would in time. A brother would be fine too. Maybe twins; there were several sets in her family. A boy and a girl. But two girls to dress in frilly dresses would be fun. But Mike might rather have just a little brother to hang out with when they were older, someone to do boy things with.

  Will whispered in her ear, "A penny for your thoughts."

  Nellie sobered at once. "It’s really nothing," she said, reflecting on Will's negative response to her comment about Will having the makings of a natural father. For some reason he had no faith in himself, which was understandable since he claimed he'd never been around children. But once Mike started warming up to him and Will learned how rewarding a son could be, he'd want more kids, she was certain. But first he had to be convinced that being a good father didn't happen overnight, it came with time...

  Will nibbled on her earlobe and said, "You were somewhere else a few minutes ago and I’m curious to know what took you so far away from me."

  Nellie tipped her head to the side, allowing Will to kiss the column of her neck, and said, "I was an only child so the whole world revolved around me, it seemed, which really isn't a good thing for a child. So I was thinking about how much I wanted at least one more child so Mike would have a sibling. But I need a father for this child I hope to have."

  Will's arms, which had been wrapped snugly around her, slackened their hold. It was some moments before he said, in a sober voice, "I hope you’re not thinking of me to father that child."

  "Well no," Nellie said, chagrinned. "You asked, so I was just telling you my thoughts."

  "Yeah, well, I just want to make sure we understand each other," Will said.

  "We do." Nellie moved out of the circle of Will's arms and out from between his legs and sat beside him. Drawing her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them. After a while, when Will offered nothing more, Nellie glanced at his firm profile, and said, "Is it a ready-made family you’re avoiding or having children of your own? Or is it the wife you don’t want? Of course you could have children without the wife, so I have to assume it has something to do with kids." When Will still offered nothing, she said, "All right, I won’t bring it up again. Obviously it’s a closed subject." She started to get up but Will put his hand on her arm to stop her. She turned and waited for him to speak.

  He sighed, and said, "I can’t father children of my own because I had a vasectomy."

  After a few seconds ticked by, Nellie said, "Why?"

  "I had it done about five years ago," Will replied.

  "I don't care when you had it done," Nellie said, "only why you had it done. Why would you do something as irrevocable as that?"

  "Because it is irrevocable," Will said.

  Nellie felt the anxious beating of her heart. Looking at him in alarm, she said, "Is there something wrong with you, medically?"

  "No," Will said.

  "Then why?"

  "It's not something you need to know," Will said. "It's a part of my life I don't talk about, so just let it go. It has no bearing on us."

  "Yes, it does," Nellie said. "I have to know."

  Will looked askance at her. "No, you don't have to know," Will said. "We already agreed there'd be no promises, so what difference does it make?"

  "It makes a difference to me because I care," Nellie said. "Because I love you and I want to share your pain, whatever it is. Please, talk to me."

  "No. Just leave it be." Will pulled himself up and walked away, leaving Nellie sitting alone on the deck.

  ***

  Will couldn’t sleep that night, and after a couple of hours, lying in bed mulling over Nellie's admission that she loved him, he ventured out on the deck and was surprised to find her standing at the railing, gazing out at sea. A fog had settled in, masking the stars, so he knew she was there because she too couldn't sleep. Before he could turn and leave, she heard him, and said, "Please don't walk away. You're here because you couldn't sleep either, and I want to talk about it."

  Will walked over to stand beside her. Bracing his hands on the railing, he said, while gazing at a bank of heavy fog, "I have nothing to offer you."

  "How can you say that? I know what I feel when you hold me. I feel a warm, caring man who, for whatever reason, hates himself."

  Will didn't want to talk about the past, not to Nellie, not to anyone. And he didn't want her corrupting what they had with love. It was an empty, pointless concept. But feeling compelled to offer something, he said, "If things were different..." He paused. This was not something he wanted to get into. Not tonight. Not ever.

  "Different how?" Nellie replied. "I love you, Will, and I won’t let this rest."

  Will drew in a long breath, and said, while continuing to gaze into misty darkness, "First of all, you don't love me because you don't know me. We spent time together working on the boat, and we had some physical contact that was a bad idea, but I'm a normal man with a normal sex drive, and you're a woman who's lonely for what you lost, and you've made me into some hypothetical man to fill the void your husband left. That's all there is to it."

  "That's not so," Nellie protested. "Well, not the part about my being lonely. Well, I am, but that's not why I'm drawn to you. And I may not know everything about you, and you may have something in your past you don't want to talk about, but I can still love you."

  "What's the point?" Will asked. "You already know my position on relationships and marriage. Nothing's changed." He knew he sounded cynical, but Nellie was laying out plans for a future that included him, and he couldn't let it go any further.

  "Is there ever a point in loving someone?" Nellie asked.

  Will didn't answer, because his attention was focused on something that flashed in the distance off the starboard bow. The light of a vessel maybe. He'd seen something earlier, but low clouds hung over the water, and whatever it was kept disappearing. He walked forward along the railing and peered into the night...

  "What is it?" Nellie asked, moving to stand beside him.

  "A boat," Will replied. As it emerged from the mist, he realized what had appeared to be a large vessel in the distance was actually a small cruiser quite close. For an instant, the pinpoint of light flashed and was gone. Then it came again.

  "That does it," he said. "I'm taking the kayak and finding out what's going on."

  "You can't be serious," Nellie replied, grabbing his arm. "What do you expect to gain?"

  "Information," Will said. "Whoever they are, they've been following you since you left Oregon, and I'm going to find out why."

  "How can you be sure it’s the same vessel?" Nellie asked. "There were dozens of boats anchored or cruising around here earlier."

  "I’m sure," Will said. As he turned to go, Nellie seized his arm, and said, "Please don't go. If it's the man from the marina he has a gun and you don't."

  Will pulled his arm from Nellie's grasp. "We can't keep running, not knowing what we're running from. Besides, whoever it is will never know I'm around. I'll take the kayak and paddle up silently and listen and try to find out what they want. Meanwhile, get dressed and haul in the anchor. And lock yourselves inside."

  "And you don't think whoever it is would kick in the door if they wanted to get in?" Nellie said, her voice rising in anger.

  "No one's going to kick the door in while I'm gone," Will said, in a firm voice. "Just haul in the anchor and go inside."

  "You're being st
ubborn and unreasonable," Nellie said. "But then, maybe you're just a typical male, thinking you're invincible."

  "I'm not going to stand here arguing," Will said, in a gruff voice. "I'm going out there and that's that!"

  "Fine! Go ahead," Nellie cried. "But if you don't come back, what am I supposed to do? Beyond knowing how to raise the anchor, I don't have the slightest idea how to run this boat, never mind that I have a son to watch!"

  Suddenly, Will was angry. Angry at the situation. Angry at Nellie for loving him. Angry because she made him want something he couldn't have. And angry because without her, his life would never seem whole again. Turning that anger on her, he said, "Just haul in the damn anchor and lock yourself inside." When he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes, he sucked in a long breath, and said, "Don't worry. I'll be back to run the boat."

  "Please don't do this, Will," Nellie cried, hanging onto his arm as he turned to go. "Why can't we just call the police?"

  "And tell them what? That there's a boat near us and we want the police to come check it out?" Will shrugged off Nellie's arm, then grabbed the double-ended paddle, unhitched the kayak and slipped it into the water while holding onto the rope attached to its bow. But before he started down the ladder, Nellie placed her hand on his arm, and said, "Please be safe, Will. Just don't do anything foolish. If you don't care what happens to you, then think about me. I don't want to lose another person I care about." She kissed him on the side of the jaw, and all he said to her, before scaling the ladder was, "Just pull up the anchor and wait."

  Will lowered himself into the kayak and paddled silently in the direction of a faint, intermittent point of light that was quickly becoming dim as heavy fog settled in around him, masking the boat. But gradually the fog thinned, and a small cruiser took form. Hearing muffled voices, he knew there were at least two men aboard. He skirted the craft, moved toward the stern, and pulled alongside the transom, then braced his hand against the boat while trying to listen to the men inside. Unable to make out their words, he tied the kayak to a ladder on the side of the cruiser and quietly climbed aboard. The fog had lifted some, and light from inside the boat flooded the deck. Moving on silent feet, he pressed his back to the cabin and peered inside. The men were not in view, but he could hear their agitated voices...