Island

by Mary Davis

  She hurried alongside him to the dock. The ferry was tied to the moorings already. “You have your ticket?”

  “What if I miss it?”

  She turned. He had stopped a couple of paces back.

  “Then you’ll have to find a vacancy at one of the hotels.”

  “What if they’re all full?”

  “Then you’ll have to find someone who lives on the island to have pity on you and take you in for the night.”

  He closed the gap between them. “Is that an offer?”

  Her stomach flipped. “No.”

  He brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face. “Good.”

  Her stomach did a double flip. “You’re impossible.” She walked over to where he needed to board. “You’d better get aboard before it leaves without you.”

  He turned to the boy working the ferry. “How long do I have?”

  “Only about a minute,” the youth said.

  He turned back to her and studied her face a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Not likely.”

  “I can buy a whole day’s worth of tickets again.”

  “You do that. But I won’t be driving.”

  His eyes widened. “Your day off?” She nodded once. “Spend some of it with me.”

  “No. You need to get aboard.”

  Brent took a step backward toward the ferry. “Please. At least meet me for breakfast.”

  “I sleep in on my day off.”

  “Lunch then.” He retreated another step.

  “No.”

  “If you’re coming, you must board now,” the ferry worker said.

  Brent climbed aboard and stood at the short length of railing near the back. “I believe you will come. I’m catching the first ferry over, and I’ll wait on the dock for you. All day if I have to.”

  “I told you I sleep in on my day off.”

  The ferry began to move. “Then dream about me waiting for you on this dock—all day.”

  She shook her head. He wouldn’t really wait all day for her. “I’m not coming,” she called.

  “All day,” he called back. Then the ferry was out of shouting distance.

  He was impossible. If he wanted to spend his day sitting on the dock, that was his business. He wouldn’t really. . . . All day? She shook her head again and turned to leave. She stopped short when she saw Shane leaning against the wall of the ferry’s dock office. As she approached, he shook his head and shoved off the wall.

  “I knew you’d meet him.”

  “You followed us?”

  He walked beside her. “It was either risk your anger for following you or live with guilt if you were wrong and the guy hurt you. I decided I couldn’t live with the guilt. Are you mad at me?”

  “No. But you could have followed me back, and I never would have known you were there; then you wouldn’t have had to risk my anger.”

  He threw his head back. “I wish I’d have thought of that. I was worrying the whole time you’d never speak to me again and that I’d get caught.” They turned up the street and headed toward Haley’s dorm. “So are you going to meet him tomorrow?”

  She stopped short. “You were eavesdropping on us, too?”

  He turned to her. “You guys were shouting back and forth. It was kind of hard not to hear you.”

  “Oh.” She started walking again.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to meet him tomorrow?”

  “You obviously heard me tell him I wouldn’t.”

  “But you will.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Just like tonight.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because it’s who you are. If you know someone is waiting for you or expecting something from you, even if you don’t want to, you’ll do it. It’s the same reason you’ll go back to your family in the fall. You know they need you and are expecting you to return.”

  “If that is true, then why haven’t I gone back home already?” Shane was a good friend to talk to. He was mature enough in his faith, even at eighteen, and gave sound advice without pushing. And best of all, he didn’t seem to have a crush on her, which made it easier to be his friend.

  “Because you made a commitment to stay here until the middle of October.”

  “A lot of people leave before then. That’s why they give a bonus to get people to stay till the end of the season. I could leave.”

  “Because a lot of people leave is why you won’t. They’ll need you, and you promised to stay. You won’t leave them high and dry.”

  “How can you be so sure? I left my family to fend for themselves.”

  “You left them because you were upset. If you hadn’t made the commitment here before you cooled down, you would have gone back. Am I right?”

  She hated to admit it. “Yes.” As much as her family drove her crazy, she felt a responsibility to them. And it wasn’t a family member who drove her away. At least he wasn’t family yet. She didn’t want to think about her family or the reason she fled; she would only wonder how they were doing and feel guilty for not being there for them. They had to grow up sometime.

  She cleared her mind of them and turned it back to Mackinac and her life here. “Jason was in a mood tonight.”

  “He’s just territorial.”

  She twisted her gaze to him. “He’s what?”

  “Territorial.”

  “I know what you said. What’s it supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged. “He saw you first, and he doesn’t like someone else moving in on his territory.”

  “I am not his territory.”

  “He thinks you are.”

  “Shane, have I done anything to encourage him? I try not to. Be honest.”

  “You’re a really nice person. If anything, you ignore him a little, not rudelike or anything. He doesn’t want to see that there’s nothing between you two. And you’re pretty, too.”

  She smiled at that. “Thanks.”

  “Um. You do know the Lone Ranger has a thing for you?”

  “I figured that one out. And his name is Brent Walker.”

  “Just checking. Sometimes girls can’t read guys, and guys definitely can’t read girls. If I could read only one girl, I’d be a much happier Joe.”

  “One in particular? Do I know her?”

  “No. It was over before I came here.” He stopped at the door to her building. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks for walking me back.”

  “Be careful tomorrow.”

  “I’m not even planning to meet him.”

  Shane smiled and walked away.

  Well, she wasn’t planning on it. She was sleeping in. And if Brent Walker wanted to sit on the dock, so be it. She would not feel guilty.

  ❧

  Brent climbed into his truck and stared out at the nearly empty parking lot. Of all the stupid things to say, “Is that an offer?” topped the list. She should have slapped him. Why had he said it? It just came out. Was he subconsciously trying to gain insight into her character?

  “Even a fool is thought to be wise if he keeps silent.” Lord, I have likely removed all doubt in her mind of my foolishness. If You would wipe that one comment from her mind and have her not hold it against me, I’d really be grateful.

  He hoped she would be at the dock and he’d have another chance. He desperately wanted another chance. But why? He hardly knew her.

  Six

  Haley watched the first ferry of the day dock. She still wasn’t sure it was a good idea to meet him today; but he intrigued her, and she wanted to know more about him. Okay, so Shane was right. She couldn’t stand the thought of someone waiting for her, expecting her. She had awakened early and couldn’t stop thinking about Brent. . .and his waiting for her. She would point him to some great sights and be on her way. Maybe breakfast, but that was it.

  Goose bumps rose on her bare legs. It was cooler down by the water than she’d expected. She probably shouldn’t have worn her denim skort, but she got s
o tired of wearing long jeans every day to work with the horses. The weather would warm up, and she’d be glad for the skort.

  She pulled her little white cardigan tighter over her pink T-shirt and folded her arms. She watched several passengers disembark before she laid her sights on his navy-fleeced shoulder and arm and then on him. He spoke briefly to one of the workers; a moment later, he saw her, and his mouth spread into a smile. His fleece hung open over a gray T-shirt and olive green walking shorts, his bleach-tipped hair in a handsome disarray.

  He maneuvered past the crowd and over to her. “You came.”

  “It’s not what you think.” The last thing he needed was encouragement. “I was awake early, so I came down to tell you what sights you shouldn’t miss.”

  He rested both hands on his camera case hanging from his shoulder. “So what are the must-sees I haven’t already seen?”

  She rattled off several places and where to get tickets or how to get there. Though he was listening intently, she had the impression he didn’t care about sightseeing. She wasn’t sure what to make of him.

  “Last call,” one of the ferry workers said.

  Then Brent finally spoke. “Have you had breakfast?”

  She wasn’t sure if she should answer, but she did. “No.”

  He took her hand, pulled her aboard the ferry, and handed two tickets to the worker. The worker tore off the end stubs and returned them while another worker closed the docking ramp.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to breakfast.” Soon the ferry was moving.

  A mild panic rose in her. Jason’s voice echoed in her head. He could be a stalker. “The island has plenty of places to eat.” And the island was a confined and relatively safe place. But the mainland went on forever.

  “I thought we’d eat in Mackinaw City. This way I can be with you without being stared at as if I’m a criminal, and we won’t be followed.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Followed?”

  He nodded. “Last night.”

  Shane. “You saw someone?”

  “No, it was more a sense of a presence.”

  “So you don’t actually have proof we were followed.”

  “I do now. Your look confirmed everything I suspected. So who was it?”

  No sense denying it. “Just a friend. He wanted to make sure I was all right.” She rubbed the sleeves of her sweater to warm her arms a bit.

  “Let’s get you inside” He led her inside on the first floor deck to a booth. She sat but didn’t scoot in enough to leave room for him. He didn’t even hesitate and sat across the table from her as if that were his plan all along. Maybe it was.

  “Would you like my jacket?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Being out of the chilly breeze made all the difference.

  He stretched his arms across the back of the seat. “Did you ask your friend to follow us?”

  If she had to come up with one word to describe Brent Walker, it would be persistent. “What difference would that make?”

  “It will tell me a lot about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, if you asked him to keep an eye on me, it tells me you aren’t sure about me yet and I need to gain your trust. If you didn’t ask him to follow us, I won’t go so far as to say you trust me, but it tells me at least you don’t think I’m out to harm you. So was it your idea or his?”

  “I didn’t even know he was there until the ferry left and I saw him standing there. But I still don’t know about you yet.”

  He nodded as if approving, then leaned forward on the table. “What can I do to relieve your fears?”

  “I just don’t know you very well.”

  He held his arms open. “What do you want to know? My life’s an open book.”

  If that was meant to comfort her, it didn’t. She always suspected that people who said something like that had something to hide, and that by saying it, the other person would automatically trust them. “How did you become a Christian?”

  “You cut right to what is most important. I’ll expect your testimony when I’m finished. Where to begin?”

  Testimony. That was not the word an average person would use if he were not a Christian. Lord, help me to discern if Brent is for real or not.

  He rubbed his hand across his five o’clock shadow. “My parents were always Bible-thumping Christians and took me to church every Sunday. One Easter, when I guess I was about six, Mom asked me if I understood what it was about. I knew it wasn’t about the Easter bunny—Mom had taught me that—so I said something like Jesus died and came back to life. She praised me for my answer. I still remember the smile on her face.” He paused as if he were seeing her now. “She explained to me that Jesus died to forgive sins, but He overcame sin when He rose from the dead. Then she explained how everyone does bad things and that I had done bad things. She asked me if I wanted Jesus to take away my sins. I remember not quite understanding everything but being afraid of not going to heaven, so I asked Jesus into my heart.”

  The simple faith of a child. That wasn’t made up. It had to be real. Thank You, Lord. “Your mom must be proud of you.”

  “I’ll never know. By the next Easter, Mom was gone—a drunk driver hit her. Dad and I went to church sporadically until he died the day after I turned sixteen.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded and went on. “The lawyer who handled Dad’s will recommended I become emancipated. I thought, great, no weird adult strangers telling me what to do. Dad and I had been playing music gigs since I was thirteen. I’d had a pretty carefree lifestyle and didn’t look forward to restrictions. I finished high school and wandered for a while in life. On my twenty-first birthday, I straggled into a church, the first since Dad’s funeral. I rededicated my life to the Lord, and I’ve stuck pretty close to Him ever since.”

  Wow. What a life he’d had. He could have stopped with his conversion as a child, but he had gone on and been open about his struggles. Showed her his faith was his own and he wasn’t imitating his mom’s religion. Unlike Jason.

  “Your turn.”

  “My parents and sister are about as close to being Christians as this boat we’re on.” Right now she felt more connected to this relative stranger than she did her own family. A spiritual connection.

  “So who introduced you to Jesus?”

  She smiled at the thought. “Julie. She was a girl in high school we all called a Jesus freak. I had no clue at the time how normal and grounded she was. We mostly tolerated her when she talked about God and ignored her the rest of the time. The summer between my junior and senior year, she invited me to a church camp. My family was driving me crazy, so it was either church camp or run away from home. I figured I could always run away after the camp, and it sounded as if it could be fun. I felt so loved and welcomed by everyone at the camp. One morning, I got up before anyone else and took a walk. I knew Julie had something I didn’t have; she had a peace and something that came from deep inside her, something real and solid. I wanted what Julie had. I asked the Lord to make me like Julie. I didn’t understand at the time that I was asking Jesus to be my Savior. But I do now, and I’ve never been the same since that first encounter with God. Julie and I became best friends, and I never did run away.”

  “Until now.”

  She smiled. “Until now.”

  He leaned forward. “So why did you?”

  Very persistent. “I told you. My family.”

  “But you left out that final thing—or should I say, person—that caused you to take flight.”

  She didn’t want to go there, not with him. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask you questions?”

  He gave her a little salute. “Ask away.”

  “You said you played gigs with your dad. So you’re a musician?”

  “Of sorts. No professional training. Everything I know I learned from Dad.”

  “What do you play?”

  “Guitar, electric, ac
oustic, bass, and I can keep a mean beat on the drums. But mostly electric guitar. Drums are a little hard to carry around.”

  Someone who could understand her musically? The connection strengthened.

  “Where is a good place to eat in Mackinaw City?” Brent asked.

  “How would I know? I only passed through on my way to the island. I think I was in Mackinaw City all of twelve minutes in early May.”

  “You haven’t left the island since May?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t had a reason to.” It seemed so remote and removed from her troubles that it was easy to forget.

  “A couple of places looked good. We’ll pick one and hope for the best.”

  It wasn’t long before the ferry docked and they were walking through the parking lot. People often said it was warmer on the mainland, only by a few degrees, but that slight boost in temperature did seem to make a difference.

  He stopped in front of a silver, extended-cab pickup with a canopy covering the truck bed and unlocked the passenger-side door, holding it open for her.

  She stared at his truck. How long had it been?

  “Would you feel more comfortable if you drove?” He dangled the keys in front of her.

  She looked at the keys, then at him, and then back at the truck. “It’s not that. I was just thinking how long it’s been since I rode in a motorized vehicle.”

  “You’ve been stuck on a carless island for three and a half months.”

  “I wouldn’t say stuck. Sequestered, tucked away. It’s going to feel weird after driving carriages every day for over three months.” She climbed in.

  He went around, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. When the stereo blasted, he quickly turned it down to almost nothing. “Sorry about that.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to turn it off.” She had felt the bass reverberating in the seat back. “I haven’t heard much music since being on the island. What do you have?” She leaned over the center divider and thumbed through his CDs. She had most of these Christian artists. Same taste in music. “May I hear this one? I love Steven’s music.”

  He took the CD and put it into the high-end stereo. “I’ll turn the bass down a little. Most people don’t like to feel as much bass as I do.” He reached for the equalizer mounted under the dashboard.