by Mary Davis
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. People don’t do that. It would be a waste of their time.” She could easily name a half-dozen people close to her who wouldn’t do it. But she doubted if she could name one besides Brent who would.
“This is how I want to spend my time right now, so it is anything but a waste.”
She relaxed against his side. This was where she wanted to be, next to him. How could she know that after one day? Lord, is this real? Or was it some rebound thing? It had been nearly four months. Certainly she had recovered somewhat.
Brent squeezed her closer and kissed the side of her head. He was riding the ferry just to be with her a few more minutes. How romantic was that? “I can’t believe I feel like this about you after only one day.”
“We actually met four days ago. And if you add it up, it’s been longer than you think.”
She shook her head. “How can four days be longer than four days?”
“If your average date lasts two to four hours, then today has been the equivalent of at least four dates.” He took her hand and held it. “And last night’s ice cream, though it wasn’t that long, was a prearranged meeting, so it counts. And all day with you in the carriage has to count. We’ll call it two more dates. And I saw you off and on for the first two days. That has to count for something. And I thought about you in between.”
She had thought about him, too. Nice, pleasant thoughts.
“So in total, it’s as if we’ve been on—let’s say—ten, plus dates. That could normally take a couple of months. You can get to know someone fairly well in that time. We just cut out all the inbetween time the rest of life takes up.”
“You really know how to put a spin on things.”
“I want to assure myself I haven’t lost my mind.”
“Are you saying I make you crazy?”
“Nope. But I’m crazy about you.”
She felt as though her emotions were out of control. They were taking her along on some fantastic ride, and she never wanted to get off. She liked the warm, comfortable feelings but wondered how long they would last before they crashed. Maybe Brent was different. Maybe Brent would last.
He kissed the side of her head again. “Does our age difference bother you?”
“Age difference?”
“I’m guessing you’re college age, early twenties. Earning money to finish school. I’m thirty-two. That makes a ten-year spread. Does that bother you?”
Should she tell him her age? Or tell him she didn’t mind their age difference? “There’s only a seven-year difference. That’s not so much.” Funny how it seemed like a yawning gap with Jason, practically a generation gap, but nothing with Brent.
Brent turned to face her, and his eyes widened. “Twenty-five? Really?”
“You’re pretty quick with math.”
“They do say math and music go hand in hand. So you don’t mind the difference?”
“It’s not much of a difference. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll confess I’ve felt as if I’ve been floundering my whole life. Like a compass spinning round and round with no direction. But you have stopped that. You’re my north.”
“Shouldn’t the Lord be your guiding direction?”
“He is, but He uses people to accomplish His will.”
She bristled at that. Even the thought of God using her made her uncomfortable. It shouldn’t, but it did. She didn’t like the feeling of being someone’s puppet. But she liked the idea of being the one person who could help another. That she was truly special to someone. . .to Brent.
The ferry docked, and Brent walked her onto the dock. “I wish I could walk you home.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“It’s not for you. It’s purely selfish motives on my part. This has been a perfect day, and I don’t want it to end.”
She didn’t either. “We’ll see each other tomorrow.”
“The Yankee Rebel. I may not be able to wait until lunch to see you. So if you see a familiar face on your carriage, that will be me.” He hurried to board the ferry before it departed.
Haley watched until the ferry was out of sight. She took a deep breath to savor the moment.
She should have told him not to buy a ticket, that if she had an extra seat, he could ride for free. If the seat wasn’t taken anyway, she saw no harm.
She turned around and stopped short, sucking in a breath.
Jason glared at her. “You left the island with him and spent all day with him? You know nothing about him.”
“That’s what spending the day was all about, getting to know one another.”
“He could be some psycho.”
She was getting tired of Jason’s possessiveness. “He isn’t though.”
“What if he’s simply trying to gain your trust, then drags you off someplace and you’re never heard from again?”
“He’s not like that. I trust him.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “What about us?”
His forcefulness was scaring her. She shook free. “There is no us—never has been. I don’t feel that way for you.”
“But you do for him.” He shook his head and stormed off.
She never meant to hurt him. She had no control over his emotions. If she did, she’d direct them elsewhere.
“Ignore him.”
She spun around. “Shane.”
“You couldn’t have done anything about Jason.”
After Jason’s outburst, she was relieved to have Shane’s company. “I feel bad for him. He’s a nice guy and all.”
“He’ll get over it. It’s like learning your mom and dad are Santa Claus. It takes awhile to adjust to the truth.”
She retrieved her bike and walked in silence beside him. Why did relationships have to be so complicated? Why did Jason have to like her? Lord, help Jason understand. Help him look to someone else or focus on his new life at college.
“Did you have a nice day?”
His question pulled her out of her funk over Jason. She smiled. “A very nice day. He surprised me by taking me to the mainland. He took me to breakfast, and then we saw some sights and ended up back at his friend’s house and had a short jam session.”
Shane was quiet for a moment, then asked, “What’s he like? Would I approve of him?”
“Approve?”
He nodded. “I’m playing big brother here, even though I’m younger than you. I want to make sure this guy is good enough for you.”
That was sweet of him. “He seems wonderful. He’s a neat Christian, and I believe he truly loves the Lord. It’s not a facade or an act. He’s funny and makes me smile. I want to be wherever he is. Isn’t that silly after so short a time?”
“He’s captured your heart.”
“I’m not sure about that. It’s all so sudden. I wasn’t looking for anyone.”
“Isn’t that the way love is? When we aren’t looking, it sneaks up on us, and we’re helpless.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘love.’ We’ve only spent one day together.” She wouldn’t try to explain how it had seemed like more, as Brent had done. She would be seeing him tomorrow. “Shane, if you really want to play my brother, have lunch with us tomorrow. We’re meeting at the Yankee Rebel. I know you’ll like him.”
“Will you allow me to give you my honest opinion?”
“That’s what I want.” She could use counsel from a good Christian friend.
“Even if it’s negative?”
“I trust your judgment. If you see something in him I’m too blind to see, I want to know.” She could have used a friend like him before.
He stopped at the door to her dorm and waited while she locked her bike to the rack. “I’m going to see if Jason is around. I’ll talk to him, help him understand.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
She went to her room and dressed for bed. She was tired. She didn’t normally do so much on her day off. But it was a good tired. As she lay in bed
, Brent’s face danced through her head. She was special to him. His north. But how could she be a directional guide for Brent when she didn’t even know where she was going after the middle of October when her job on the island was through? How scary to have him looking to her for direction. Maybe he could be her north, as well, and they could find their way together. They could figure it out with the Lord.
❧
When Brent walked through the front door, Dalton lay stretched out on the couch with his hands behind his head. The beat Dalton had been playing on the drums when Brent left was a contented beat unlike the abuse he’d been giving them a few nights ago. The short jam session had been good for him.
“Hey, you’re in my bed.”
Dalton smiled broadly but didn’t move. “She is so your type.”
“You think so?” He made a fist and brought it to his chest. “She does something to me here.”
“Let me know when the wedding is.”
“I’ve only known her four days. I’m hardly prepared to make that kind of decision.”
“I hear bells ringing from the church steeple.”
Is she the one, Lord? Finally.
“Do you think my having no permanent residence is too weird?” He’d never worried about that before. “I’ve rented an apartment now and then for a short while.”
Dalton unclasped his hands from behind his head and sat up. “You’re free to go where the Lord leads you. You haven’t put down stubborn roots that may be keeping you in a place the Lord may not want you. You aren’t afraid to look up and move on.”
So Dalton was struggling, too, with his place in this world. Was there ever a time a person could be sure? Maybe he had been avoiding settling down in one place because he was afraid it had nothing to offer him.
“Do you think it will scare Haley off?”
“Your lifestyle is unconventional—that’s true. But maybe the Lord is pairing you with Haley for that reason. Maybe that’s what she’s looking for—someone who doesn’t fit into the same mold as everyone else. I never thought I’d settle down until I met Joslin. Now I’m an immovable object. Look at Moses. He ran away and lived in the desert for decades. It turned out to be a training ground for something bigger in his life. I don’t know why the Lord gave me Joslin for such a short time and then took her away, but I think I’m a better person for having known her.”
Dalton leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Maybe the Lord has used your mobility to bring you here—to meet Haley. Maybe she’s the one to get you to settle down. Or maybe you’re the one to set her free from a conventional life.”
“I hardly think driving a tour carriage is conventional.”
“What about when the season is over? What will she be going back to?”
And what had she run away from? Dalton made it sound as though Brent was a shining knight set out to rescue a beautiful damsel. Though Haley was beautiful, a shining knight he was not.
The phone in his pocket rang. Mr. Jackson again. He turned it off. Nothing had changed from earlier. He was still no closer to finding Justin. “Dalton, would it be irresponsible of me to quit looking for Justin Mikkelson altogether?” Dalton was always a good second conscience for him, helping him stay on the right track.
“Because of Haley?”
“Because I think Mr. Jackson is an overbearing brute. He treats his daughter like a possession, a possession that has seriously disappointed him by making him look bad. She was probably desperate to find love and acceptance and found it in Justin’s arms.”
Dalton stood and stretched. “Do you think he’s on the island?”
“It’s likely.”
“Do you think you can find him?”
“Given enough time, probably.”
Dalton clasped him on the shoulder. “Then to quit would be irresponsible.”
He knew that. He’d needed it confirmed.
“I’m going to bed. I have a war to fight tomorrow, and I believe we’ll win.” Dalton headed for his bedroom.
He should get some sleep, too, but wanted to see Haley one last time before going to bed. He turned on his laptop and looked through the pictures he’d downloaded earlier. He had taken pictures all day long, and Haley hadn’t seemed to mind. He wanted to spend time with her, but he had a job to do.
He needed to get serious and find this Justin and be done with it. And it was obvious he couldn’t do it alone. He needed help. Should he ask Haley? Tell her he’d been working a job and see if she could help him?
Ten
Haley rubbed her face once again. She could not wake up this morning after a night of thinking about Brent. It had been after two before she had fallen asleep. The only thing that had gotten her out of bed this morning was the prospect of seeing him again today. Lunch was too far away. Maybe he’d ride as he’d suggested he might. She hoped so. And if she could catch him before he purchased a ticket, she would offer him an empty seat if she had one.
Harry, the stable master, was talking on the phone in the small office in the barn while she made a last check of harnesses and traces. She peeked in the doorway and gave him a thumbs-up that she was heading out, the last to leave. She was generally the first. Harry held up his hand for her to wait. She leaned on the doorframe while he finished his conversation. “I have someone here who I can send right over.”
She would be that someone since she was the only one still around. What if Brent was waiting to ride in her carriage? She pulled the scrunchie out of the low ponytail it was holding, finger combed her hair, and put it back in. She preferred her hair clip, but Brent still had that. She hoped he’d bring it today.
Harry hung up and turned to her. “Giff over at the police station needs an extra pair of hands. I told him I’d send you.”
Giff was the deputy. She wasn’t. What good could she be? “Can’t someone else do it?”
“You haven’t gone out yet. And when I told Giff I’d be sending you, he said, perfect—he could use someone with a good head on her shoulders. See—you’re not just a pretty face.”
“But Tom and Jerry are all set to go.”
“I’ll take care of them. Giff is waiting.”
As she turned to leave, she bit her bottom lip. She put on her helmet, straddled her bike, and was off, coasting downhill as fast as she could. As she came into town, she turned down Main Street and swung by the carriage tour ticket office to see if Brent was lingering. She parked at the curb and left the bike to go inside to speak with Jessica. “Has that guy who rode my carriage the day before yesterday been by today?”
“No. He didn’t come yesterday either. At least not on my shift.”
“I had yesterday off.”
“So he was riding just to see you. I hope I didn’t get him in any trouble.”
“No. It’s fine. If he comes by, tell him I’m doing some other business, but I’ll see him for lunch.”
“Ooo. Is something going on with you two?”
She smiled and shrugged. “Maybe. His name is Brent Walker. Thanks.” She turned and peeked in Big John’s office. “I’m helping Giff with something. I don’t know how long it will take, but when I’m finished, I’ll get a carriage.”
“Harry already called me. Don’t worry about it. Whenever you’re through with Giff will be fine.”
She headed back out and got on her bike but still saw no sign of Brent. At the police station, she parked her bike and went inside. Alli, the receptionist, motioned her to go right into Giff’s postage stamp–sized office. All the offices on the island seemed to be compact. They had no extra space for frills, just the necessities.
Giff sat behind his desk with his hands folded, his wavy red hair tamed neatly in place. She stood at the doorway a moment before he noticed her and waved her inside. He stood. “Come in.”
“Harry said you needed my help. I’m not sure what I can do.”
He reached for the door. She stepped out of the way so he could close it. “We have a private investigator here lo
oking for someone on the island. You know the island well, so I thought you could show him around.” As he stepped back around his desk, he motioned to a man in the chair. “Haley, this is Brent Walker.”
Brent stood. His face paled as he stared at her. But no one could be more shocked than she.
Giff went on. “He’s looking for a boy named Justin Mikkelson.”
She shifted her gaze to the floor. Justin Mikkelson? That’s why Brent had asked her about him several days ago. He was here on a mission, and it had nothing to do with her—except to use her. She balled her hands into fists until her nails dug into her palms. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Unaware of her discomfort, Giff continued. “We looked in the database and have called all the big companies, but there’s no record so far of a Justin Mikkelson.”
“So what has this boy done that people are after him?” She kept her eyes, as well as her question, directed toward Giff.
“He got a girl pregnant, and the family of the girl needs to talk to him.”
“I don’t know any Justin.” She struggled to keep her voice level. “I don’t think I can help.” She clenched her teeth.
“Mr. Walker has a picture.” He pointed toward Brent, whom she was glad had not said anything. “We were thinking he might be going by an alias.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brent’s hand holding something. She glanced at it. She needed to get out of there. “I’ll see what I can do.” Which would likely be nothing.
“Thank you.”
She nodded to Giff, then said to Brent without looking at him. “Mr. Walker.” She stepped out of the office and the building without waiting for him. She paced by the curb. How could he do this to her? She’d had such a good time with him yesterday, but apparently it had all been a lie.
“Haley, I know you’re upset with me but—”
She strode to her bike and yanked it free. “ ‘Haley, you’re my north. You give me direction. I’m spinning out of control.’ ” She waved her hands in the air. “I can’t believe I ate that up and let you use me.”
“I didn’t use you. I meant every word I said to you.”
She turned toward him, and he halted. “Did you think I could lead you to this person you are looking for?”
