by Karen Foley
With a sigh, she snatched up her backpack and sweater and walked back into the shop. “I have a headache,” she fibbed to Carly in way of explanation. It wasn’t far from the truth. Thinking about Phillip always made her head hurt. “Do you mind closing up?”
“Not at all, hon,” Carly said, her face registering sympathy. “Go home and get some sleep—alone. You look like you could use it. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll get the tent set up then, okay?”
Maggie nodded. “That sounds great. See you tomorrow.”
Her car was parked in the private space behind the shop, but Maggie decided she could use the fresh air to clear her head. Maybe the walk home would give her some focus and make her feel better. She hated that whenever she thought about Phillip her mood turned morose. She’d thought that after ten years she would be over him, but it seemed not a day went by when her thoughts didn’t turn to him, even if it was only for an instant. She hated that.
For months after she’d moved to Chicago, she’d found herself looking for him, even though the rational part of her brain told her there was no reason on earth for him to come to Chicago. He certainly wouldn’t come for her, and there were no navy installations in the city. Sometimes she would see a car identical to his and her heart would stop, only to realize it wasn’t him. Those episodes had gradually diminished over time, but even now she’d occasionally find herself thinking about him without even realizing her thoughts had strayed there.
The worst part was that she could barely remember what Phillip looked like anymore, only the way he had made her feel. Had she truly loved him? She believed so, but then she’d believed he’d loved her in return, and that hadn’t been the case. The result was that she no longer trusted her own feelings, never mind anyone else’s. Her mother had suggested she go see someone, but at nineteen, she’d preferred to wallow in her own self-pity than to seek help.
As she walked past the shops and restaurants on Front Street, she drew in deep breaths of salty air. The fish pier thronged with people on this balmy afternoon, and the sidewalks were filled with families window-shopping, or stopping to enjoy an ice-cream cone or a slushy. A breeze lifted her hair from her neck, and Maggie watched a seagull wheel over the waters of Penn Cove, before floating on a current of air. She passed a rustic staircase that led down to the beach, and looked to see three children trying to skip stones across the water, while their mothers stood nearby, chatting and laughing.
She had missed this, she realized. She missed the small-town feel of Coupeville and the neighboring enclave of Rocks Village, and the way the population changed during the summer months with the arrival of the tourists. She missed the ocean and the tang of salty air, and she missed the wide open vistas of water and mountains converging on the horizon. Most of all, she missed her family, and the sense that she belonged somewhere.
For the first time in ten years, she found herself considering the possibility of returning to Whidbey Island, at least on a trial basis. She wasn’t quite ready to commit to a permanent move, but her being a photographer at least gave her the freedom to move around. She didn’t employ anyone, and she worked out of her own apartment, so she didn’t even have the hassle of an office that she would need to sublet.
She told herself that her newfound perspective had nothing to do with the fact that Jack was building a house on the northern end of the island, or that his long-term plans included leaving the military and pursuing a career as a charter pilot. When she’d left Whidbey Island ten years earlier, she’d been emotionally compromised, and had not only condemned Phillip Woodman for ruining her life, but also transferred all those negative feelings to the island itself. She’d made Whidbey Island out in her mind to be the worst place imaginable; a veritable prison of sand and sea, but now that she was back, she realized she’d been wrong. Life here wasn’t horrible by any stretch of the imagination, just different from Chicago.
Simpler. Easier.
She didn’t know if she could be happy in the Pacific Northwest for the long haul, but the fact that Jack Callahan was here to stay made the option of extending her visit infinitely more appealing. Besides, before she’d gotten involved with wedding photography, her first love had been nature and wildlife photography, and Whidbey Island had that in abundance. With a smile, she lifted her face toward the sun and headed home.
* * *
THE FLYING CONDITIONS had been exceptional, with a high ceiling and visibility that extended for almost fifteen miles. Although restricted to airspace at the northern end of Whidbey Island and out over the open ocean, Jack had easily picked out the tiny community of Rocks Village from the air. He’d have liked to fly directly over the village, as he’d done over the town of Coupeville earlier in the week, but his flight plan didn’t allow for any deviations, and the resultant complaints from the community wouldn’t make it worthwhile. Still, he wondered what Maggie was doing as he rocketed through the skies overhead. Had she heard his engines? Had she thought of him?
He wasn’t the kind of guy who used his position as a fighter pilot to attract women, but there was a part of him that wished Maggie could see him in the cockpit of the Growler, doing what he loved best. Well, he acknowledged ruefully, as he approached the airstrip and lined his aircraft up, he’d loved flying more than anything until he’d met Maggie. Given the choice of flying or making love to her, he’d have to choose her.
Every time.
Now, as he landed the jet and taxied to the hangar where the other jets were parked, he couldn’t wait to call it a day and get home. As he raised the canopy and released his harness, his navigator and copilot, Will Robinson, did the same from the seat directly behind him, standing up and slapping the back of Jack’s helmet.
“Nice flying, Callahan,” Will remarked, swinging his legs over the side of the cockpit to climb nimbly to the tarmac. “Seems like longer than three weeks since we’ve done this.”
Jack agreed, glad that his friend had finally arrived at Whidbey. He and Will, otherwise known as “Robot,” had been flying together for almost six years, and there wasn’t another navigator he’d trust more than his friend. He completed his engine shutdown procedures, then hoisted himself out of the narrow confines of the cockpit. He returned the salutes of the maintenance crew waiting to refuel and inspect the aircraft and fell into step beside Will.
He pulled his helmet off as they made their way over to flight ops for a quick debrief, already thinking about a shower and Maggie. Or better yet, a shower with Maggie. In thirty minutes, he’d be done for the day, and he couldn’t wait to get back to the cottage. Maybe he’d invite Maggie out to see the plot of land where he planned to build a house. Despite knowing she didn’t want to stay on the island, he knew she’d like the location, and he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he wanted her artistic opinion on how to situate the house on the land. The property was thick with pine trees, and he wanted to maintain as much of the natural landscape as possible, while capitalizing on the stunning views.
“Hey,” Will said, “a bunch of the guys are grilling out tonight at McIsaac’s place. Wanna join us?”
“Sounds fun,” Jack said, “but I’m going to pass.”
“Ah, plans with the lady friend?”
Jack grinned. “You bet.”
“I still want to know how you manage to show up less than two weeks ago, and already you’re hooking up with some babe.”
Jack shrugged. No way was he going to share anything about Maggie with the guys in the squadron. He could take their good-natured ribbing, but he didn’t think they’d understand that Maggie was so much more than just a hook up. “I don’t know, man,” he responded. “I met her the first night I got here, and we just clicked.”
“Uh-huh.” Will sounded unconvinced. “How many other guys did she click with before you showed up, huh?” The comment was made in jest, but Jack felt himself bristle.
“Ma
ggie arrived on Whidbey Island the same night that I did, so there were no other guys, okay? She’s a decent person, and I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like that.”
Will raised both hands in surrender. “Hey, man, no offense meant. I don’t even know her. I’m sure she’s great.”
“Who’s great?”
Both Jack and Will looked over as a third pilot joined them. Commander Ben Craig was a couple of years older and a full rank higher than both Jack and Will, and was considered to be the best pilot in the squadron, having completed more than one hundred sorties over Iraq and Afghanistan.
“Sir, we were just talking about Callahan’s new love interest.”
“Oh, yeah?” He peered over at Jack. “You work fast. She a local girl? Maybe my wife knows her.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack replied. “She grew up on Whidbey Island, but she left about ten years ago and moved to Chicago. She’s just here for a couple of weeks to help run the family business.”
“In other words, the perfect girlfriend, huh? In a couple of weeks she’ll leave and you’ll be a free man.”
“No, sir,” Jack insisted. “I’m doing everything I can to persuade her to stay.”
“What’s her name?”
“Maggie Copeland,” he said reluctantly. “Her family owns a shop in Coupeville called Village Sea Glass. They sell sea-glass jewelry and some other glass stuff.”
“Oh, I know the place,” the commander said with a grin. “My wife grew up here, too, and she’s pretty good friends with Eric Copeland.”
They had almost reached the ops shack, and for a reason he couldn’t decipher, the knowledge that the commander actually knew the Copeland family made him feel anxious. “Yeah, he’s a good guy. I met him when I came out here a few months ago on a house-hunting trip. I’m actually renting a small cottage on the Copeland property.”
“No shit. I remember my wife telling me a story about his sister. They’re twins, right?”
Jack nodded, wishing he could prevent the other man from finishing his thought, but there was no way he could do that without appearing rude.
“Yeah, I remember,” mused the commander. “She was engaged to a pilot. Then, just before the wedding, he up and married an admiral’s daughter and left the Copeland girl in the lurch. What a guy, right?”
Will made a sound of disgust. “That’s bullshit, man. I don’t care if the chick he married was the admiral, that’s no way to treat anyone.” He slapped a hand to Jack’s shoulder. “Although, lucky for you she didn’t marry the bastard, right?”
Jack gave his friend a lukewarm smile. “Yeah. Lucky for me.”
His chest ached for Maggie now that he understood what her issues were. No wonder she’d tried to keep him at a distance. She hadn’t just been hurt by some random guy; she’d been betrayed and publicly humiliated by a pilot. Worse, the bastard had opted to marry a woman who had a powerful father, a guy who undoubtedly could impact his career progression. There was a part of Jack that wanted to hunt the prick down and beat the living crap out of him.
He realized now that he definitely had his work cut out for him in gaining Maggie’s trust. He might have succeeded in claiming her body, but in light of what he now knew, he wondered if he had any chance in hell of claiming her heart.
11
MAGGIE SPENT A good part of the day working on items for the arts-and-crafts festival. The pictures of the orca whale had come out so well that she’d reprinted a bunch of copies using different finishing techniques, and had spent most of the day matting and framing the completed pieces. By the time she’d finished, it was early evening and she had almost two dozen photos ready for the fair. Her back ached from the long hours spent leaning over her work, and now she pressed a hand to her spine, wondering if a hot shower might relieve the discomfort.
Climbing the stairs, she stood in the doorway to her bedroom, remembering Jack’s comment about feeling like a pervert. Now she surveyed the room through critical eyes. Why her mother or brother had never done anything to change the décor since she’d left home was beyond her. The room was like a time capsule to her early teen years, which was the last time she and her mother had redecorated. An enormous poster of Ricky Martin dominated one wall, with another of Britney Spears over her dresser and a full-length poster of the cast of The Matrix was on the backside of the bedroom door.
Maggie thought the room would make an ideal nursery. Walking to the end of the hallway, she pushed open the door of the bedroom where Danielle intended to put the babies. As bedrooms went, it was nicely situated, overlooking the front of the house, but to Maggie’s mind, it was too far away from Danielle and Eric’s bedroom.
She was still contemplating whether or not she had the guts to swap out the rooms, when her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Pulling the device out, she saw it was Eric.
“Hey,” she answered. “Having a great time?”
“Listen, sis, something’s happened.”
His voice was so somber that Maggie’s heart lurched hard in her chest. Fear gripped her, and she reached out to hold on to the door frame. “What is it? Is Danielle okay? Are the babies okay?”
“Yes, everyone’s fine. At least, they are now. Danielle started to go into early labor last night. By the time we got to the hospital, she was five centimeters dilated. They’ve stabilized her, and the contractions have stopped. She’s resting now.”
“Oh, my God.” Danielle was only twenty-four weeks pregnant. Maggie wasn’t a doctor, but even she could do the math, and delivering the twins so early could be extremely dangerous. Maggie didn’t know what their chances might be if they were born so prematurely, but she knew they weren’t great. “What happens now? Can they keep her going for another month or two?”
She heard Eric sigh on the other end and could picture him running his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. She could hear an intercom in the background, and realized he must be calling her from the hospital.
“Do you want me to come down there?” she asked.
“No, no,” Eric said quickly. “There’s nothing you can do, and Danielle’s parents are here. Mom is flying in later tonight.”
That didn’t surprise Maggie. Valerie had always been there for her kids, and she’d be there now for Eric and Danielle. “That’s good,” she said. “So what happens now?”
“Well, it looks like we’re going to extend our stay by at least another two months, or until the twins are born. The doctors won’t let Danielle travel, and the only way to prolong the pregnancy is to keep her on absolute bed rest. At least we can stay with her parents, who’ve been terrific.” There was silence as Maggie digested this information. “Maggie?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Listen, I’m not asking you to stay until we get home. I know you have your own life in Chicago to get back to. But right after the festival ends, Carly was planning on driving down to Portland to spend some time with her mother, who isn’t well. I won’t ask her to change her plans, but I’ll need to make some phone calls to see if I can get someone in to run the shop while she’s gone.”
“Eric, I’ll stay.” Maggie blurted out the words before she could change her mind.
“What?” She could hear the disbelief in her brother’s voice.
“I said I’ll stay. I’ll watch the house and the shop, and I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? Just take care of Danielle and those precious babies. Nothing else matters.”
“Maggie, I don’t know what to say.”
She could hear the emotion in his voice and knew he was close to losing it. She couldn’t imagine the fear and stress of what he must be going through, and the last thing she wanted was to add to that worry.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she assured him. “Besides, I have Jack to lend a hand if I need anything.” Like a mind-blowing org
asm, for starters, although she certainly wouldn’t share that detail with her brother.
“He’s there already?” Eric’s voice betrayed his shock. “But he’s not due for at least another week.”
“Yes, well, he showed up the day after you left.”
“Jesus, Maggie, why didn’t you call me to let me know? I feel terrible. I didn’t even clean the cottage!”
“It’s fine, Eric, don’t worry. Apparently, he got released early from his last assignment and drove straight out to Whidbey Island. But he’s settled in, the place is clean and cozy and he seems very happy there.”
“That’s great,” Eric said with obvious relief. “He seems like a genuinely good guy, so I’d hate to let him down as a landlord.”
Maggie smiled. “I think I can safely say he’s more than satisfied with the services of his de facto landlady.”
There was a shocked silence, and then Eric laughed softly. “You always manage to surprise me, Maggie. I’m not going to ask, because I’m not sure I want to know, but just...be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Again. He didn’t say the word, but it hung there in the air between them.
“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “For the first time, I have my eyes wide open.”
They spent the last few minutes of the conversation talking about the festival preparations and the shop before Eric hung up, promising to call again in a day or so.
Maggie turned the cell phone over thoughtfully in her hands. She tried to imagine what it would be like for Danielle to be confined to her bed for the next couple of months. She determined that the first thing she’d do would be to send her some jewelry-making supplies, which would at least keep her occupied. Then she’d move her bedroom to the end of the hallway, and redo her old bedroom as the nursery, which would bring the infants closer to their parents. She needed to stay positive, and decorating the nursery would help her believe that the babies would be okay. Feeling good about her decision, she closed the door and made her way slowly downstairs.
