by Sue Pethick
“Okay, sure. Just wanted you to know how things were hanging, that’s all. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Emily gave the black pennant another quick glance and hurried away.
* * *
By the time she got to Sam’s house, Emily had managed to calm down. As tragic as it was, there was no reason to think that the black pennant had anything to do with Sam. If she’d never seen it, in fact, she would have spent the rest of the day in blissful ignorance.
Bear was still inside, greeting her as warmly as he had when she’d gotten there at lunchtime. He snuffled her hands and did his little half leaps and pirouettes as she made her way haltingly into the kitchen. Emily set the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and put her arms around the dog’s neck, burying her face in his coat.
“Hello, you big, fluffy boy. Did you miss me?”
He lumbered over to the back door and whined to be let out. Emily followed him into the backyard and double-checked that the gates were shut before going back in. Sam had been surprised when she told him she’d found one open the day before, and she wanted to make sure the latches were secure before she let him out unsupervised. The last thing she needed was for Bear to make a break for it while she was getting dinner ready.
Emily hummed as she chopped the ingredients for the meal she was preparing. Thanks to the Junior Chef Program for Kids, she was a pretty decent cook, but the only times she ever got to practice her skills back home were when Maria was either sick or visiting her grandkids in Mexico. She noticed that Sam had a pretty well-stocked kitchen for a bachelor, and wondered if it might actually be Tiffany who’d filled it with all the staples, Wüsthof knives, and high-end cookware at her disposal. Then again, Emily thought, anyone who’d take the knickknacks off the shelves when she left would probably have taken anything of hers from the kitchen, as well.
As Emily slid the Pyrex dish into the oven, she glanced at the time. It had taken longer than she’d anticipated to get everything prepped, and she was surprised Sam wasn’t home yet. Still, she’d been hoping to take Bear out for a quick walk before they ate, and she sort of liked the idea that Sam would walk into the house and smell dinner cooking. She wrote him a quick note saying they’d be back soon, grabbed Bear’s leash off the wall, and opened the back door.
“Who wants to go for a walk?”
The sun was nearing the horizon as they headed out, stretching their shadows clear across the road. Bear made a beeline for one of his favorite spots, sniffing it thoroughly before marking it and moving on to the next. The neighborhood was on a knoll overlooking the harbor, and as Bear checked out a particularly intriguing spot, Emily scanned the ships below, hoping to spot Sam’s. A cold gust of wind blew up with a suddenness that startled her, and Emily was reminded of the pennant flying down on the dock. Death, too, could be swift and startling, she thought. Somewhere in the town that night a family would be grieving a loved one just as she had grieved the loss of her father eleven years before.
Back then, a black car had been the harbinger of misfortune. A knock at the door, a policeman telling her mother that their private plane had gone down with no survivors, then her mother’s scream of anguish while Emily stood frozen in the shadows, trying to convince herself that she was still in her bed asleep. It seemed impossible that her father could be dead—as unlikely as gravity suddenly shutting off—and for her mother, at least, the effect had been very much the same.
Without her husband’s steadying influence, Veronica Prentice became emotionally untethered, at times barely able to function. She insisted that the crash had been her brother-in-law’s fault, that as the last person to fly the plane, Emily’s uncle Danny had done something to compromise its airworthiness. And when the plane’s logs showed that it had been overdue for maintenance, she doubled down, publicly accusing him of negligence. In the end, the NTSB found that adverse weather conditions had caused the crash, but her accusation had convinced at least one person, and that was Uncle Danny himself, who quietly accepted both the blame and the responsibility for his brother’s family. He never flew again.
Emily, though, had never blamed her uncle. Instead, with a twelve-year-old’s cynical view of the world, she placed the blame squarely where she thought it belonged: on her father. She had loved him, yes, and he’d meant the world to her, but he had his faults, and in his absence, they loomed large. He was impulsive, a gambler and risk-taker whose luck had finally run out. When she heard he’d died instantly, she refused to be comforted. He may not have suffered, but she and her mother would for the rest of their lives. She wondered if her father had ever even considered them when he’d stepped into that plane.
That was why Emily had vowed never to marry a man like her father, a man who would needlessly put himself in harm’s way. And as she watched her mother try to fill the void in her life with shopping, Emily had thanked her lucky stars that at least her own trust fund was beyond her mother’s reach.
By the time Bear completed his rounds, it was even later than Emily had anticipated. As she opened the front door, she was all ready with an apology for keeping Sam from his dinner.
“Hi there!” she called as they walked into the house. “Sorry we’re late. Bear had some serious marking to do tonight.”
She looked around.
“Sam? Where are you?”
Emily walked into the kitchen and opened the door to the garage. Sam’s Jeep wasn’t there. She checked the time. He should have been home long before then. A whisper of fear sent a chill down her spine.
So, he was a little late, she told herself. No big deal. But a small voice inside her head wouldn’t listen.
What if the pennant was for Sam?
The reality hit Emily like an ice bath. She shivered; her teeth began to chatter; her knees felt like rubber. As she slowly slid to the floor, Bear circled her, whining his concern.
This was her fault, she told herself. She’d betrayed Carter—a safe, practical man—to pursue someone exciting, and look what had happened. Like her father, Sam had taken a risk, and now she was paying for it.
How could she have let herself fall for a man like that?
CHAPTER 14
Sam was beginning to worry. Halfway back to port, the tender’s rudder had fouled, and it had taken almost an hour to clear it. All the while, the ship had drifted farther out to sea. He’d tried calling Emily from the ship’s satellite telephone to tell her he’d be late, but she hadn’t picked up, and he had no way of knowing whether she’d gotten his message. By the time the ship limped into port, he was on edge, snapping at the buyers to settle on a price and chivying his crew to hurry and empty the hold. He hoped her silence meant nothing, that Emily either had not gotten his message or had been too busy to return his call, but until he heard her voice again, he couldn’t be sure.
As long as she hadn’t changed her mind, he thought, everything would be okay.
The night before had been a revelation. Even before the two of them had kissed, he’d been amazed at how good it felt to be with her. He’d been captivated by Emily’s green eyes since the first time he saw her, but the more he got to know her, the more they fascinated him. They seemed to change with her moods, from a happy apple green to thoughtful emerald, to a sultry jade just before their lips met. When the evening was over, he’d driven home in a daze, wondering how he’d ever gotten so lucky.
And now, he couldn’t reach her.
It didn’t help that there’d been bad news waiting when they finally made it to shore. Seeing the black pennant flapping on the dock had put the whole crew on edge. The men who worked those waters were a small fraternity, and the loss of any one of them sent ripples of alarm through all the rest. Making a living on the water required a certain amount of magical thinking, denying the possibility of disaster even as you did everything you could to prepare for it. When the inevitable finally happened, it was like being wakened from a pleasant dream by a slap in the face.
When t
he fish were finally sold and off-loaded, Sam had checked in with each of his men, making sure the tender was secure before taking off. No doubt he was worried about nothing, but the superstitious sailor in him couldn’t help thinking that bad news came in threes. As he got in his car, he called Emily one more time, frustrated when it went to her voice mail. Why wasn’t she answering? He told himself to be patient. He’d be there soon enough.
The house was dark when Sam drove up, the same single light he’d left on that morning the only sign of life. As he pulled into the garage, his stomach clenched. Emily said she’d be there for dinner. Had something happened to her, too?
The first thing Sam noticed when he opened the door was the smell of dinner cooking. So, he thought, she hadn’t changed her mind after all. But if Emily had made dinner, where was she? And for that matter, where was Bear?
“Anybody home?”
He walked into the living room and switched on the light. Emily and Bear were on the sofa, the dog’s head resting on her lap. As Sam stepped into the room, Bear lifted his head and thumped his tail in greeting but remained where he was. Emily turned to look at him and he saw that her eyes were red. Had something happened?
“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She blinked at him uncertainly.
“You’re alive.”
Sam smiled and patted his chest.
“You’re right, I am. Why? Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
Emily wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“I saw the pennant. Someone died. I thought—” She sobbed, tears welling. “I thought it was you.”
“Hey, hey,” he said. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m fine, see?”
He reached out to comfort her, and she shied away.
“What is it, Em? You’re not sorry I’m back, are you?”
She shook her head. “What happened? Why are you late?”
“On our last run in, the rudder got fouled. The ship drifted quite a ways before we could get it free.”
Her eyes flashed. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did! I called a couple of times to tell you I’d be late, but you never answered. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“My phone,” she said. “The battery must have died.”
“Look, I’m sorry if you were upset, but I was a little concerned myself. When you didn’t answer, I wasn’t sure what to think.” He bent down, trying to catch her eye. “You’re not sorry I’m here, are you?”
“Of course not. I’m glad you’re okay. It’s just that, when I left the cannery, I saw them putting out that black pennant, and Uki told me that someone at sea was dead. All I could think was that I might never see you again.”
Emily covered her face.
“It reminded me of the day my dad died: seeing the police car drive up to the house, hearing my mother sobbing when she heard the news. I just couldn’t bear the thought that that might be me, you know?”
Sam sat back on his haunches, wondering what he could say to reassure her. He supposed he could tell her it was silly, that nothing could ever happen to him at work, but that would be a lie. What he did was risky; refusing to acknowledge that would be both foolish and unkind. But if Emily was going to become distraught every time he was a little late coming home, then maybe it was better to call things off before the two of them got more involved.
He grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to her.
“Look, I know you’re upset, but can we talk about this rationally for a minute?”
She blew her nose and nodded.
“First of all—and I’m not blaming anyone—the man who died was on a different kind of ship in deeper waters and he was younger and less seasoned than anyone working with me, okay?”
“Okay, but—”
“No, hold on a second. I’m not saying that what I do isn’t risky—it is—but I want to reassure you that I am very careful with my ship and my crew and myself. I have the best safety record in these waters and I intend to keep it that way.”
Emily sniffed. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, now you do,” he said. “It’s true that accidents can and do happen in my line of work, but they happen everywhere in every line of work. I don’t know how your dad died and I don’t need to know, but I’ll tell you this: There are no guarantees in this life. If that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m not the only guy in the world who’s going to disappoint you.”
She looked down at Bear and began stroking the huge head. The dog’s gaze switched between the two of them, his eyes full of questions.
“Look,” Sam said. “I don’t have a crystal ball. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. I don’t even know yet if we are going to happen—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know you didn’t. I’m just trying to reassure you that every day when I get on that ship, I do everything possible to make sure that every man aboard makes it home safely. Fate may have other ideas, but there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about that. And if I had to guess, there was nothing your father could have done about it, either.”
“Maybe. I guess.”
“Not all captains are like that, I admit. Some are too greedy or too impatient; they cut corners, ignore weather warnings, hire unreliable people, but that’s not me, and that’s not who I’ll ever be.” He paused and took a breath. “It’s also why I’m trying to buy a tender of my own.”
She looked up. “You are?”
Sam nodded; saying it aloud made him feel shy. He hadn’t been planning to tell her about it until he’d secured a ship, but they’d shared a lot in the last few days, and her concern for his welfare was touching.
“So,” he said. “Now that you know, what do you think? I’m crazy, right?”
“No, I think it’s great. When will you get it?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve got some feelers out, but finding the right ship at the right price could take a while, and in the meantime, I have to be careful not to tip my hand. If my bosses find out I’m looking, I could be out of a job with no ship at all.”
“And until then, you promise you’ll be careful?”
“I promise I will be as careful as I always am.”
A smile teased the corners of her mouth.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Feel better now?”
The smile widened. The green eyes shone.
“Yes.”
“Good. Then can we please eat dinner? Whatever you made smells wonderful.”
* * *
The first thing Emily did when she got home that night was to plug in her phone and check her voice mail. Sure enough, Sam had left three increasingly frantic messages telling her he’d be late and asking her to call. Hearing them, she felt heartsick, remembering her own mounting anxiety as she’d waited for him to get home and knowing now how Sam, too, had worried about her. She wished she could go back in time and reassure them both that everything was going to be fine.
If only she’d let her mother buy her a new phone like she wanted to, it never would have happened. The irony was not lost on Emily.
Speaking of her mother, Emily noticed that she’d missed a call from her, too. Her finger hovered over the PLAY button. Did she really want to listen to it now? Whatever the message was, it would no doubt be preceded by a complaint about Emily’s lack of contact, something she was in no mood for, and her mother had always been adamant that calling after nine o’clock was something one did only in case of an emergency. Maybe, she told herself, it would be better to wait and call back in the morning.
Then Emily noticed the time stamp on her mother’s message: nine fifty-one. Was there an emergency back at home? The same constriction she’d felt in her chest when she believed that Sam had been killed gripped her anew. Without pausing to listen to her mother’s message, Emily hit the CALL BACK button. Whether or not the message was important, she knew she’d never be able to sleep if she didn’t find out.
Her
mother’s voice sounded thick, as if she’d woken from a dream, and Emily immediately felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps being without power so long had reset the phone’s internal clock, she thought. Maybe the message hadn’t been made after nine o’clock after all. Then her mother burst into tears.
“Mom, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“It’s Uncle Danny. The tests came back and . . .”
Her sobs made the rest of her words unintelligible. Emily gripped the phone harder.
“What happened? Is he okay?”
Interminable seconds passed while her mother struggled to regain her composure.
“I’m sorry, Em. It’s just been such an awful day, and then when you didn’t call back, I thought—”
“You thought something had happened to me, I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call back sooner. I forgot to charge my phone, and it ran out of juice before I could get back here.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to be patient while her mother calmed down.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine now.”
“So tell me about Uncle Danny. What happened?”
“They’d found a spot on his lung. I didn’t tell you because we hoped it was nothing serious, but . . .”
Emily nodded, fighting the urge to cry. She was afraid this would happen, had suspected as much, in fact, when Carter mentioned the oncology department. Lung cancer had killed both of her paternal grandparents; had he lived, it probably would have killed her father, too. Knowing it was inevitable, though, didn’t make the news any easier to hear.
“. . . now the doctors want him to have surgery.”
“When?”
“Tuesday morning.”
“Should I come home?”
“No. Not now. The doctor says they’ll know more after they’ve opened him up. Once that’s done and we have a prognosis, you can decide what you want to do. The good news is, your uncle’s in good spirits, and for the moment, at least, he’s not in any pain. If you were to come home now, I’m afraid it would only upset him.”
