Island

by Mary Davis

  She glanced at Brent, then back at Shane. “We said what we needed to last night.”

  “Haley.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You’d better go. The ferry will be leaving.”

  He sighed and walked to the boat.

  Veronique stepped up beside her. “You’re not going to say good-bye to him?”

  “It’s best if I don’t.”

  Veronique was quiet for a moment. “Good.”

  She turned to her friend. “Good?”

  “Zen zair is no end, and he is welcome to come back.”

  “That’s not the reason.”

  “No matter. It still works.”

  She watched the ferry start to motor backward away from the dock. “What if this whole thing with Brent was a rebound from Kennith? What if the Lord was saving me from another bad relationship?”

  “And what if you are afraid and are using zis to protect yourself?” Veronique put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  “I don’t know if I’m willing to risk it. I’ve always played it safe and taken chances on the things I could win.”

  “You can never tell if you will win in love until zee end when you are gray and wrinkled. Only God can you be sure of.”

  She stood silently beside her friend as the ferry slowly maneuvered away from the dock. Brent leaned against the railing and raised his hand to her in a wave. She lifted her hand in reply and left it there until the ferry was out of sight.

  “When your heart heals, you will want him to come back.”

  “Maybe it’s best this way. No false hopes.”

  “And maybe you will wish you had said a proper good-bye and given him some hope to come back for.”

  “You are a hopeless romantic.”

  “Oui.”

  ❧

  Haley pulled up her carriage to receive her first afternoon group of fudgies. Summer was coming to a close, and a lot of the seasonal help had left already or would be leaving soon. It had been nearly a week since Shane had left with Brent. Jason had started his freshman year at Western Michigan, and Veronique would head back to France next week. That would be a teary good-bye.

  Her carriage filled, and the last passenger to step aboard in the back was Dalton, a pair of headphones hung around the collar of his royal blue golf shirt. She smiled at him, and he smiled and waved back. Another Lone Ranger.

  At Surrey Hills, Dalton got off and went inside the gift shop like all the other passengers. She thought he would have at least said hi. But then he could be mad at her for not making up with his friend. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; she didn’t know how to trust him again. She pulled forward to wait for the departing passengers.

  Soon Dalton appeared beside the carriage. “May I climb up?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve been debating whether or not to give this to you.” He pulled a gold CD in a blank jewel case from his pocket. He handed it to her. “I burned a song for you. Brent wouldn’t like me poking my nose in this matter. He’s too nice to tell you that you are only hurting yourself by not forgiving him.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “But I’m not so nice.”

  She stretched out her hand to give it back to him. “Thanks, Dalton, but I don’t have any way to play this. I didn’t bring a CD player.”

  He quickly pulled off his headphones and handed her the CD player out of his pocket. “Here—take this.”

  “I can’t take your CD player.”

  “It’s no big deal. I have another one at home.”

  She reluctantly took it and tucked it all beside her seat. “Thank you.” Her carriage filled with tourists, and it was time to leave.

  Once back in town, the passengers disembarked. “It was good to see you, Dalton,” Haley told him.

  “Same here.” He backed away and gave her a little wave.

  She wondered the rest of the day what song Dalton had burned for her. After she unhitched her carriage and finished up with her other duties, she took out the CD as she walked to her bike. She saw no song title written on it—only two Bible verses from Matthew. She wasn’t sure she was ready to listen to the one song Dalton felt she needed to hear. She tucked it in her jacket pocket and rode down to meet Veronique for dinner.

  Sixteen

  Haley looked out the window of her dorm room. September was winding to a close, and the trees were clothed in the radiance of brilliant fall colors. Red, yellow, and orange leaves dotted the streets and lawns.

  All her friends had left, and the Bible study dispersed. Even her roommate was gone. It was lonely, especially on her day off.

  She pulled out the CD she had been avoiding for a month and sat on her bed. She opened the player and saw it already had a CD in it. Dalton probably didn’t realize he had left one in his player and had likely been wondering what had happened to it. She would return it to him with the player when she left the island in a couple of weeks. She reached for the CD he had made for her but stopped. She still wasn’t ready to listen to it.

  She felt justified in her anger and was afraid that whatever Dalton had chosen could change her. She had been avoiding the book of Matthew because she knew that scripture could change her more than anything else.

  She listened to the CD he had left in his CD player instead. Interesting how it was the one with the song “The Wonderful Cross” she had picked out for the three of them to play. She closed her eyes and played along on an imaginary piano. The words touched her as they never had before. She had not laid this burden down at the foot of the cross. Though she had let God use her, she hadn’t forgiven Brent.

  Once again, the Lord had used music to open her heart to listen to Him.

  She put in Dalton’s CD and listened to it. The song he’d chosen was “Forgiveness.” The message: forgive before it was too late.

  Lord, I don’t want to forgive. He hurt me, and I want to hold on to the anger.

  She pulled her Bible off the nightstand and opened to Matthew, chapter eighteen, verses twenty-one and twenty-two, the first of the two references Dalton had written on the CD. “Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.’ ”

  “How can I forgive seventy-seven times or even seven times when I can’t forgive once?”

  One at a time.

  She turned back to her Bible. The second reference was chapter six, verses fourteen and fifteen. “For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” The words were in red. Jesus was speaking directly to her. How do I forgive when it hurts so bad? I don’t know how. Please show me.

  The image of Jesus hanging on the cross battered and beaten came to her mind. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

  Was it that simple? Just say it? She took a deep breath. I forgive Brent. She felt lighter, but it wasn’t enough, so she spoke it aloud and gave it conviction. “Brent, I forgive you. And, Lord, forgive me for my stubbornness not to forgive.” A peace swept over her and washed away the hurt and anger.

  She took the sarong Brent had bought her at the Mystery Spot out of her bottom drawer and wrapped it around her shoulders. Forgive me, Brent.

  ❧

  The next evening, the phone rang. Justin’s familiar voice greeted her. “I wanted to let you know how things turned out here.”

  “I have been dying to know.” Haley sat on the floor under the phone on the wall.

  “Kristeen had her baby, a girl.”

  “Did she decide to keep it?”

  “No. Her dad made her adopt it out. I wanted to adopt little Lacy, but Brent and Aunt Aimee talked me out of it.”

  Brent and Justin’s aunt together sent a wave of sadness through her. Had he found her more receptive to his affections? She took a deep breath and returned her focus to Justin.
“Why would you want to adopt someone else’s baby when you’re only eighteen?”

  “I figured Kristeen would want to see her baby one day.”

  “And you’d be there waiting for her.”

  “Silly, huh?”

  She pulled her feet up under her. “I think it’s sweet. But I’m glad you’re not going to be the baby’s adoptive father.”

  “I think I am, too. Brent has helped me see that Kristeen is not the right relationship. He says going to college will be good for me.”

  Thank you, Brent. Was it only last night she had finally forgiven Brent and let the whole matter go? And for the first time, she could think of Shane by his real name, Justin. “Will you have to put off college until next year? Or do you think you can find a job for the next couple of months that will make up what you would have earned if you’d stayed here? I could even give you some money to help out.”

  “No need to. I’m already enrolled at Western Michigan. I’m rooming with Jason. He has a girlfriend, and she’s really good for him.”

  “You’re at college? How is that possible?”

  “Brent found me a four-year scholarship—tuition, books, housing, the whole works.”

  “Brent found you a four-year, full-ride scholarship just as school was starting?” That didn’t sound plausible.

  “He knows a man who likes to do that sort of thing anonymously for worthy students. Brent told him about my situation, and he did it. He set up an account that he’ll transfer funds into each term.”

  It sounded a little fishy to her. What was Brent up to?

  “Aunt Aimee is glad. She always felt bad that she didn’t make enough money to send me to college. We barely scraped by.”

  Aunt Aimee—that was what Brent was up to. She would guess that Aunt Aimee was young and pretty. And she had probably caught Brent’s eye. “I’m glad everything is going well for you.”

  “Haley, you can’t tell Brent I called and told you this.”

  It wasn’t as if she would ever get to talk to him again. “What does it matter?”

  “He wants to tell you everything.”

  “Why?”

  “He thinks it will force you to talk to him because you’ll want to know. You’ll talk to him, won’t you? You’re not still sore at him?”

  “What about your aunt?”

  “Aunt Aimee?”

  “Oh, never mind. Of course I’ll talk to Brent. He can call me anytime.”

  “He’s not here. I’m at college. He stayed to help with some last details. He also wanted to make sure Kristeen will be okay through all this. I asked him to tell me how she’s doing.”

  “Do you have a number where I can reach him?”

  “If I told you that, then he would know I talked to you. He’s coming to the island when he’s finished. To see you.”

  To see me? “In two weeks, the Grand Hotel closes and the season is over.”

  “He knows that.”

  So maybe there wasn’t anything between Brent and Justin’s aunt after all. But just because he was coming here was no reason to get her hopes up.

  “What if everything is different? What if we don’t have the same easy camaraderie?”

  “What if you do?”

  “Things have changed for both of us.”

  “Haley, promise me you’ll give him a chance.”

  “Is that what he said—he wants a chance?”

  “Well, no. Only that he promised to come back.”

  So there it was. Brent was only coming back to fulfill a self-imposed obligation. She would put no hope in a relationship blooming again.

  Seventeen

  The last passengers of the last tour of the season thanked her and stepped down onto the sidewalk. She glanced around one final time but saw no smiling Brent aiming his camera at her. He hadn’t come after all. She clicked her tongue and snapped the reins. “Let’s go home, boys.”

  Haley knew better than to put any kind of hope in a promise made out of guilt. It had obviously been nothing but an empty promise to smooth over her ruffled feathers. But she had wanted him to be different, had hoped. Why hadn’t she sat down and talked with him? She had probably pushed him away. She couldn’t blame him for not coming back. He probably thought she was too high maintenance. Justin had said he knew when the season was over. Brent had to know she would leave after that. He had chosen not to come.

  She had no way to contact him. She hadn’t even remembered to get Justin’s phone number at college. Before she headed home, she would stop by Western and visit Justin and Jason, but she wouldn’t ask Justin for Brent’s phone number again. If Brent didn’t want her contacting him, she wouldn’t push it. She would write Brent a letter, and when she returned Dalton’s CD player and CD, she’d ask him to give it to Brent for her.

  She gazed at the Grand on her left. Would she be back next year? She would have to see how things went with her family. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—stay with them forever.

  Ahead on the right, she glimpsed movement. A man in a brown leather jacket stood by a tree and hiked up one black pant leg to his knee, exposing a hairy shin and calf. He stuck out his thumb.

  A smile pulled at her mouth. Brent! Always the flirt. She would not get her hopes up though. She would wait and see what he said.

  She pulled Thor and Thunder to a halt. “I have a policy never to pick up hitchhikers.”

  He leaned on the side of the carriage. “Then why’d you stop?”

  “You were scaring my horses.”

  “Was I?”

  She nodded. “You’d better climb aboard so they can’t see you.” Before she finished her sentence, he was seated behind her.

  He tugged his pant leg down and held up a bag. “I bought some fudge. I guess that makes me an official fudgie.”

  “I guess it does.” Now that he was here, she wasn’t sure what to think. She was a little nervous. What if his feelings for her had waned?

  “Oh, and I have this for you.”

  A gift? That was a positive sign. She turned to receive it. The hair clip he’d taken from her when they’d played miniature golf. Her heart sank as she accepted it, and tears sprang to her eyes. First, the fudge was an obvious barrier, like “See—I’m off limits.” And her hair clip had been a tie between them, albeit a small one, and he’d just severed that.

  She was getting uncomfortable and wanted a topic that wouldn’t lead to disappointment. “I talked to Justin a couple of weeks ago.”

  “You did?” Now he sounded disappointed.

  “You gave him a full-ride scholarship?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to tell you about that. He doesn’t know it’s me.”

  “He still doesn’t, as far as I could tell. Why did you do it?”

  “I couldn’t bring him back here, so I thought the next best thing was to send him to college. Did he tell you about Kristeen, as well?”

  She nodded and maneuvered the horses into the barn. “You can wait over there if you like, while I take care of the horses.” He jumped down and stood off to the side. When she was finished, she got her bike and joined him. She sat on the seat of her bike and walked it with her feet.

  Brent walked beside her. “Where to now?”

  “I didn’t have any special plans. I was going to pack before tomorrow.”

  He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets, and the bag of fudge crinkled. “So today is your last day?”

  “Yes.” She had hoped by saying she had no plans that he would want to make plans together. “Tomorrow it’s back to the real world.”

  “Where are you going from here?”

  She smiled and thought of Justin telling her she would go back home, even before she knew.

  He swung his gaze her way. “Why are you smiling?”

  “I was just thinking of Justin. He knew before I did that I would go home.”

  “To your family you ran away from?” He sounded surprised.

  “It’s the only one I have.”

  �
�You aren’t going back to your ex-fiancé, are you?”

  “No way.” She hadn’t even thought about him, but she supposed it was likely she would see him. “Maybe he’s left and I won’t have to see either him or her. Is that too much to hope for?”

  “We can always hope. Without hope, we would be—hopeless.” He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. “It’s a lot colder here than I thought it would be.”

  “The air has a definite biting chill in it today. They’re talking of snow tonight and tomorrow.”

  He pulled his hands inside his coat sleeves, then reached for the handlebars. “Let me take that.” She let go but didn’t have a chance to get off before he grasped the handles, then stepped over the slanted center bar and put his foot on the lower pedal.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting us into town faster.”

  “By riding double?”

  He twisted around. “Sure. Haven’t you ever ridden double on a bike before?”

  “Not since I was a kid.”

  “Well, hold on.”

  “Your hands will freeze.” She tugged at her leather work gloves. “Here—wear these.”

  “I doubt they’ll fit.”

  “They’re a little big on me. It’s worth a try. Better than frozen fingers.”

  He had to pull hard to squeeze his hands into her gloves, but he managed. “Mmm. Nice and warm.” He gripped the handlebar and glanced over his shoulder. “You ready?”

  She tucked her hands inside her heavy coat sleeves and placed them on his waist. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  He stood on one pedal and hopped on his other foot. “If I can get us going, I’ll be doing this.”

  She giggled. “You want me to drive?”

  “I think I have it.” He pushed with his free foot as though he were riding a scooter and started them rolling.

  She pushed, too, with her dangling feet.

  He tried several times to lift his foot to the upper pedal before he finally succeeded; then he pumped standing up. “Piece of cake.” He swerved trying to keep their balance.

  “Whoa.” She held on a little tighter.

  “I have it—we’re okay.”