by Sandra Kitt
“I bet you could,” Eva said caustically with a touch of amused insight into the man. Nevertheless he laughed heartily at her skepticism. Eva took that moment to change the subject.
“What time does the ferry leave from Red Hook?”
“On the hour. Next ferry”—he looked down at his watch quickly—“at four o’clock. Maybe we make it.” He shrugged with a total lack of concern with whether or not they would. But Eva didn’t relish the idea of sitting around for an hour waiting for the five o’clock boat. She was tired and felt like she’d been traveling the entire day and still hadn’t reached her final destination. She was sticky and very much wanted a shower and time to relax.
“Where you stay on St. John? Caneel?” Deacon asked. Eva didn’t expect to see the man again, so she told him.
“No…I’m renting a house on the island. I believe it overlooks Hawksnest Bay.”
“Yes. Very pretty there. But you get lonely. You see. You come back to St. Thomas and visit Deacon. I show you all around my island. You have good time!”
Eva merely smiled at the offer, her innate feminine suspicions aroused.
“Maybe I marry you, yes?” Deacon declared. Then he again burst into laughter at the shocked, wide-eyed expression on Eva’s face. Subtlety is totally unknown to this man, Eva thought in wry amusement, turning her head to look out the window and hoping to discourage further conversation as to her vacation plans.
The landscape and setting seemed to be at odd variance with the development apparently taking place all over the island. For every lopsided or run-down house there was a rich, modern condominium or resort hotel. The hotels seemed almost out of place in the lush rolling hills that opened up frequently to give a spectacular view of the sea. But the tourist trade was the major business in these string of small islands dotting the Caribbean Sea. Eva had been told that the water was the most fantastic blue she’d ever see, and it was true. It looked as if tons of powdered turquoise had been dumped into the water to give it a pale translucent aqua color that was almost unreal. For the rest of the twenty-minute ride, Eva was absorbed by the beauty of it all.
Suddenly the car came to a stop inside a fenced dock and Deacon climbed out to help her with her luggage. There was a blue-and-white boat against the dock, filled with people and baggage and boxes.
“Is that the ferry?” Eva asked anxiously as a bell rang twice from the upper deck of the craft, announcing its imminent departure.
“That’s it,” Deacon said, still not hurrying. But some silent communication was apparently transmitted as the boat made no move to pull away, and Deacon approached it with Eva’s luggage as Eva ran to catch up to him, struggling with the heavy carry-on tote, her purse, and a camera.
Two teenage boys silently took the bags from Deacon and swung them without care onto an already heaped pile of baggage in the center of the deck. Eva dug to pull money from her purse to pay the cabdriver.
“Thank you…” she breathed, shrugging her camera strap back up her arm and picking up the tote.
“You come see Deacon on St. Thomas…anytime,” he said and grinned, touching his forehead in a respectful gesture to her.
Eva turned back to the boat, which had already started its engines. A space was beginning to yawn between the dock edge and the side of the boat. She stood looking apprehensive as the ferry gave every sign of leaving with her luggage while she stood foolishly on the dock afraid to jump the widening space.
No one appeared to have noticed her predicament until a quiet, incredibly deep voice said from the boat, “Step over this way…here.”
Then Eva was aware of a hand and arm reaching out to her, but her eyes remained focused on the space below her revealing the deep blue water of the bay. Suddenly, something hooked her violently around the waist, and she was hauled unceremoniously from the dock edge to the deck of the boat. She drew in a sharp breath of surprise, which was immediately forced out again when her body made jarring contact with the hard chest and thigh of a man who held her against him, her feet cleared of the wooden floorboards.
“Oh!” Eva let out, as she managed one hand up to his shoulder to steady herself. Her chest was flattened against his as he held her for a moment longer and peered silently into her stunned, upturned face. Slowly he set her down on her feet, her legs unsteady. When Eva continued to sway with the unfamiliar movement of the boat, the man maintained a firm hold around her waist. The contact made Eva feel weak-kneed for a second, but then he slid his hand away.
For no particular reason Eva was aware of the warm, musky smell of male perspiration of the man in the tropical heat. He was a big man and showed not the smallest sign of strain at having lifted her with her arms full from one level area to another.
His rugged square face with its prominent jaw and chin was closed and hard, and he didn’t acknowledge Eva’s breathy muttered thanks. She didn’t realize she was staring, awestruck by a face that was not exactly handsome, but certainly strong and masculine. His brown skin was a bit darker than her own, and she was curiously drawn to the fact that his eyes seemed to be the same shade of brown, giving him a unique, intense staring look.
Eva felt a tug on her arm. Suddenly embarrassed, she looked round into the calm unsurprised eyes of Diane Maxwell.
“Diane! Hello again. I didn’t know what had happened to you.”
“My daddy was there to meet me,” Diane offered logically, unconcerned that they’d parted company abruptly at the airport.
“Oh, I’m glad. Where is your father?” Eva asked, briefly looking around the other passengers.
“Here he is,” Diane said, pointing to the tall man silently watching the exchange and Eva’s rescuer of a moment before.
“Oh!” Eva breathed, swinging her eyes back and up to look once more into that imposing face. She collected herself and held out a hand.
“Hello, Mr. Maxwell. I’m Eva Duncan. Thank you for your assistance. I—I’m sorry I was so clumsy and slow…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured a bit coldly, reluctantly taking Eva’s proffered hand. Her smaller one was swallowed and firmly held briefly before he turned and lowered himself to a bench. He sat back to rest both arms outward along the back of the seat, one ankle resting on top of the other knee. He wore brown slacks, thong sandals, and a pale yellow shirt open halfway down the front.
Eva’s eyes lowered hypnotically to the opening because of the dark curly mass of hair that was displayed. She’d never seen such a hairy chest. She frowned deeply at the thought and turned quickly back to Diane. The youngster was now kneeling on the bench facing her father and leaning over the side of the boat, letting the salty breeze blow into her face as the ferryboat gained full speed. Awkwardly Eva took the seat next to the little girl, putting her almost directly opposite Diane’s father. Eva smiled briefly at him as she sat, but he didn’t return the smile and, as a matter of fact, turned his head to look at the same view his daughter was enjoying, ignoring her.
He wasn’t at all what Eva had expected Diane’s father to be like, but then she hadn’t given an awful lot of thought to it before. She hadn’t thought he’d be so—so physical. His presence was almost overwhelming. Eva stole another surreptitious look at him, at the sculptured line of his profile with its wide full mouth and the strong long nose, at the neatly clipped and combed hair, at the incredible hair on his chest. She could only think in that instant that Kevin, her husband, had been so much smaller a man with very little body hair.
The eyes of the man sitting opposite her looked back to her, and again Eva resorted to a gentle smile.
“Your daughter is a much better traveler than I am,” she confessed ruefully.
He stared at her long and hard, almost rudely, until Eva began to wonder if there was something wrong with the man. But again, his eyes shifted to look out over the sea, over his daughter’s head with its wisps of hair being tugged upward in the wind. “She’s had a lot of practice,” he finally chose to answer and said no more.
Well! He certainly is not like his daughter, Eva thought as she gave up the idea of further conversation. Whatever it was Diane held so dear about her father was only known to Diane. Eva shrugged the thought away. It didn’t matter, since she probably wouldn’t be seeing them again during Diane’s brief two-week stay anyway.
Eva took a moment to look around the small craft, noticing the mixture of people. There were those who were obviously just arriving for the start of vacation, with their pale untouched skins, and those who lived on these islands with their beige, brown, and black skin tones. There was cargo of produce and dairy goods for delivery and boxes of what seemed to be tools and machine parts.
Diane, now bored with the scene from the boat, twisted to sit down next to Eva and let a big yawn stretch and distort her round face. Eva smiled at her and, totally unaware of the movement, moved her hand to smooth back the child’s windblown hair.
“Are you tired?” she asked softly.
“A little,” Diane admitted. “I’m hungry, too.”
“Well…your father will probably give you dinner as soon as you get home.”
“Do you want to have dinner with us?” Diane asked in a tired voice.
Eva didn’t look again at the man opposite her, but his presence prompted her quick reply. “I don’t think so, dear. You and your father will want to get to know each other again after a long year apart. And I’d like to get settled myself.”
“Maybe another time, then,” Diane said.
“Maybe,” Eva responded, although doubting it. She looked up to find Diane’s father staring openly at her. He didn’t look away this time, but Eva did, disconcerted by his pale brown eyes. His gaze was frankly curious and intent on examining her. Unused to such open perusal of her person, Eva fidgeted on her seat. If he was aware of her discomfort, he made no sign as his gaze swept slowly over her body. Eva nervously brushed a hand over her short hair and fumbled with the loose neck of her blouse. She now wished she hadn’t allowed herself to be talked into wearing so young and revealing an outfit. She didn’t view herself as a slender young girl anymore, but a mature woman who should dress her own age.
The engines suddenly were cut, and the craft slowed until it was merely drifting into the dock at Cruz Bay on the island of St. John. Already the other passengers were standing and preparing to leave, gathering suitcases, bags, and boxes. A young girl, her hair cornrowed attractively over her head, collected the two-dollar fare from each departing person.
Revived once more and on the last leg of her trip, Diane jumped up and stood waiting for her father to dig out her two bags from the diminishing pile on deck. He tossed them onto the dock and returned to grab Eva’s two bags. Then he turned to her.
“Thank you,” Eva shouted, as she gingerly stepped from the boat to the dock, this time without assistance. Out of curiosity, Diane had moved to the back of the vessel, watching as the anchor was lowered and the ropes were secured on the dock. She leaned over to peer into the aqua water to see how far down the anchor would fall. She was leaning precariously forward when Eva saw her and let out a gasp. Diane’s father never moved as his eyes turned to his daughter. He simply called sharply to her.
“Diane! Get away from there,” he said brusquely in his deep voice and the little girl quickly obeyed. She came back to her father’s side. He gave her a relatively small case.
“You know what the Jeep looks like. Why don’t you go put that in?”
“Okay,” she agreed readily and went off down the walkway, struggling with the case. “Bye, Eva!” she shouted once over her shoulder.
“She’s a lovely little girl,” Eva commented, but Diane’s father didn’t respond. Instead he turned to look rather forbiddingly down at her, his light brown eyes sweeping over her again, coming back to study her face.
“Is someone meeting you?”
Eva let out a low, nervous chuckle. “Someone is supposed to meet me, the agent for the house I’m leasing. Mildred Decker.” He nodded once.
“She’ll be here,” he said confidently.
“Do you know her?” Eva asked.
“This is a very small island. You quickly get to know most people here.” He picked up Diane’s other bags and started to turn away. “She should be along any moment. Do you need any more help?” he asked a little archly, in a way that Eva took offense to.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your assistance,” she said formally, too tired to try and be friendly with the stiff, somewhat arrogant man.
He never said another word. Just nodded briefly and walked to meet his waiting daughter, who was standing by a red, canopied Jeep. Soon they were shooting off down the street away from the dock and out of Eva’s sight. She wondered, nonetheless, where he lived.
“Are you Eva Duncan?”
Eva turned sideways to see a slight, graying woman of about fifty smiling at her. What a change from the last twenty minutes of Diane’s father. The woman held out a fine-boned, wrinkled hand. “Hi. I’m Milly Decker. I see you made it with no mishaps. That’s unusual the first time here,” she laughed.
“I guess I was just lucky. I did have a lot of help since leaving the airport,” Eva confessed, shaking hands with the very tanned woman with pale gray eyes in her lined face. Eva quickly went on to describe her encounter with the cabdriver, Deacon, causing Milly Decker to laugh.
“Oh, our cabdrivers are legendary. They are mostly very nice, and they have a keen eye for an attractive single lady.”
Eva shook her head demurely. “It’s nice of you to say so.” Between Milly and herself they got the bags to another Jeep, this one blue, waiting at the end of the dock.
“This is the town of Cruz Bay,” Milly explained as they headed slowly out of town. She pointed out various shops, businesses, and points of interest. Then they were quickly climbing into the hills, curving away from the town receding below them.
“Martin Isaacs called me long distance to let me know you were coming.”
“It was very generous of Mr. Isaacs and his wife to let me use their house for six weeks.”
“They are really lovely people. But that house means a lot to them. They only let very special people come here.”
Eva smiled. “I’m not that special, but I do enjoy working for Mr. Isaacs. Since he and his wife were going to be in Europe the whole summer, it was he who suggested I use my vacation this way.”
“Some vacation,” Milly Decker said in an envious voice. “I wish I could take six weeks!”
“Well, I actually only get three weeks. I’m taking the additional three without pay.”
“Well, I hope that he gave you a good deal on the cost of the lease.”
“Oh, he did. I’m paying less here than I do for rent at home. This trip is costing me very little.”
“That’s fantastic. I do hope you enjoy it here, and I hope you won’t be too lonely on that hillside. There’s another house about a half mile down the road from you, but closer to the beach. It’s occupied by a marine biologist, Adam Maxwell. You can always call on him if you have any problems. He knows the island, and he’s good in an emergency.”
“Maxwell…” Eva mouthed, wondering. “I met a Mr. Maxwell on the ferry ride over here.”
Milly Decker laughed. “See what I mean? Sounds like Maxwell. I believe he went into St. Thomas to pick up his daughter, or something like that.”
“Yes, that’s right. His daughter Diane is spending vacation with him.”
Eva was finding she had to hold firmly to the side of her seat or risk falling out on the incredible winding road. The island of St. John was much more scenic, lush, and green than St. Thomas. Despite the cabdriver’s claim to the contrary, St. John gave the appearance of being more the kind of place she had in mind in which to rest and relax for several weeks.
Two years ago when she went to work for the law firm of Berger Isaacs, Eva wanted to lose herself in the complicated work of the office. She didn’t want any time to think about her past, to grieve and lament and w
ish it all undone. It was important that she continue with her life and make it the very best she could for herself alone. But she had used her job as legal secretary and law clerk to bury herself, to stop feeling, to think of nothing but her work. It was her boss, Martin Isaacs, who’d convinced her she was too valuable to the firm and to herself to run herself into the ground with overwork. So, for the first time in her life, she was on a real vacation.
Every time the car came around another bend, another semicircular aqua bay was exposed to Eva’s view. She didn’t realize that any place in the world could really be so lovely, and she was suddenly very glad she was here. She was looking forward to the next six weeks.
“Do you drive?” Milly asked her now.
“Yes, I do. I’ve never driven a Jeep before, but…”
“There’s nothing to it. You’ll probably have more trouble adjusting to driving on the left-hand side and on the steep hills and sharp turns. But you can’t get anywhere on the island without your own transportation. I’ve arranged for you to pick one up tomorrow.”
“Thank you. That would be helpful.”
“Also I’ve already put food in the house, so you won’t have to starve tonight.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to go to so much trouble!”
Milly Decker smiled good-naturedly. “Well, as I said, Martin Isaacs says to take good care of you. And there are lots of people to get in touch with if you get too lonely. There are several good restaurants on the island if you get tired of your own cooking. One place shows movies every Saturday night. Sometimes the National Park Service here sponsors talks and tours. The nights can sometimes be the worst. There’s a radio, of course, and newspapers, but not much TV if you’re used to that. If you get too lonely, give Maxwell a call.”
Eva seriously doubted if she’d get so lonely as to do that, but she remained silent on the subject.
“Also, Troy Hamilton and his family live in the other direction from Maxwell’s place. Troy does odd jobs for the resorts here, and his wife Trina runs one of the food stands in town. There’s a mess of kids in that family, ages eight to twenty-eight. But they’re nice people.”
