The Pandora Box

by Lilly Maytree

  She had wanted a hero.

  But none had ever turned up. Now in one crazy moment of weakness (yes, it was a moment of weakness) she had let down the guard she had so carefully kept around her heart all these years and allowed herself to be influenced by someone who, by his own admission, was simply floating aimlessly around the world, living the high life. Someone whose dreams she had felt obligated to save at the expense of her own. Was God really that literal when He said we should put others before ourselves? Who were the others?

  Whoever they were, one thought became crystal clear. She had not been caught in this trap yesterday. She had been caught in it the day she had allowed herself to venture into those gray areas of integrity and been enticed away by what she saw there. Money. Adventure. And (to be honest) an incredibly exciting man. Whether she would have personally gone on the expedition if Henry Starr (who was old enough to be her father) had been the only captain of this boat, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, was that she was “unequally yoked” to a non-believer now. Something that led to nothing but misery, as she had heard so often in her growing up days.

  As if having a pastor for a father wasn’t enough, she had four brothers who were following right along in his footsteps.

  Why, if she hadn’t felt such a driving force to use her talent for reporting to help fight some of the corruption that was so prevalent these days, she would have had a hard time believing she was even part of the family. Now look at the fix she was in. Hadn’t her own mother always warned that a person could find something appealing in a monster if they lived with one long enough? Much less someone as handsome and beguiling as Wayne Hawkins happened to be.

  Now he had saved her life.

  He must care at least something for her if he had so selflessly risked his own life for hers. That he had done such a thing made her feel incredibly close to him. Incredibly grateful. Incredibly blessed to have a second chance at getting things right. Suddenly, one of her father’s sayings echoed in her mind. “People aren’t judged as much by how they feel,” he said, “as by how they make others feel. Always be careful with other’s feelings, girlie.”

  She had become very vulnerable to Hawk’s feelings, somewhere along the line.

  At dinnertime, it was Dee’s turn to cook. While she was frying hamburger and grating cheese for enchiladas, the others were on deck enjoying chips and cold drinks along with the pleasantries of idle conversation. Hawk came down for refills, and she halfway expected him to make some advance. He lifted a portion of the counter top that was the door to the refrigerator and took inventory. “No more cokes, Mare, just cherry, ginger ale, or beer.”

  “Ginger ale, please,” came the reply. “Want any help down there, Dee?”

  “No thanks,” Dee returned.

  “Smells good.” Hawk reached over her shoulder to snatch a bite of cheese before he left.

  It wasn’t until he was gone that Dee realized she was disappointed. What did she expect? That the first moment he caught her alone, he would sweep her up in his arms? The thought sent a shimmer of sweetness all through her. She remembered when they were passing in the narrow companionway, he put a momentary hand on her shoulder but, even though it sent shimmers through Dee, was nothing more than a casual politeness. Again, that night when the breeze brought a chill, he snapped the safety line onto her jacket as she put it on. He probably would have done the same thing for anybody.

  Finally, Dee decided that she was over reacting, as well as over responding. Hawk’s ways were naturally outgoing and flirtatious, and she (in spite of her original resistance) had finally been taken in by them. So much for her afternoon of soul-searching. There would probably never be a need for the little speech she had rehearsed in her mind because, at the moment, she was the only one who was feeling this way.

  By the time her late watch came around at ten, she had finally managed to recover some sense of balance. She brought her I-pod with all her favorite classical recordings on it, to absorb a little of its peace, and remind herself who she was. And one of Marion’s romances, too, in case she felt like trading that plan for a little out and out escape. So when she appeared on deck it was in much the same manner as she had taken over the watch every other night they had been at sea: friendly, talkative, but distinctly casual.

  Only this time, Hawk was waiting for her.

  21

  Confessions

  “He had the air and address of a gentleman… the sight both amused and dismayed me.” ~ Nellie Bly

  With four people, the watch was three and a half hours long. The last person stayed on a half hour to make coffee and conversation until the next was fully awake and alert enough to take over. During the day it was casual, and one could hardly tell who was on or off. But the underlying routine was there. Those who had late night or early morning watches often took a nap in the afternoon. Dee liked the night watch best because it meant no one had to wake her. But so did everyone else, so they rotated.

  Tonight, she heard the steady clicking of Marion’s laptop as she passed her cabin, and Starr’s rhythmic snoring as she passed by his before going outside. Up on deck, Hawk was reading one of Starr’s Louis L’Amour novels beneath the red glow of the tiny cockpit light. It was just bright enough to read by but wouldn’t affect night vision. He closed the book and set it aside when he saw her.

  “Don’t let me disturb you,” Dee offered, “I’m wide awake.”

  “Honey, you’ve been disturbing me all day. Come sit down and let’s talk.”

  Considering the emotional roller coaster Dee had been on since the afternoon, she didn’t trust herself to get that close. If he so much as brushed a hand against hers, her feelings would go careening all over the place again. She took refuge in being as casual as he had been all day. “If it’s about the salmon pole,” she began, “I already told Starr I’d replace it.”

  “Dee.”

  “If it’s another lecture about the safety line, look…” She unhooked one of the neatly coiled lines from where it hung over a stanchion and clipped the free end onto a ring at the belt of her jacket. “I’m all set.” Then, without waiting for a reply, she went over to look at the compass to note their course. She barely had a chance to glance at the green luminous numbers when he reached out for the safety line and pulled her toward him.

  “Don’t you think it’s about time we made some adjustments in our arrangement, sugar?” He brought her down on the seat beside him. “Move into my cabin with me, Dee.”

  The directness startled her. She had expected him to make an advance, something smooth and flirtatious or a persuasive speech on the pleasures of romance. Nothing as serious as this. Long-term things like that resulted in the kind of entanglements men like him usually did their best to avoid. Now, what was he up to?

  It didn’t fit in with her image of him.

  But the thought suddenly occurred to her that it might fit his image of her. Hadn’t she told him how important a solemn oath was to her, and she was not one to take such things lightly? Maybe this was his way of appealing to her on her own terms. An honest, genuine marriage, even though he had no intentions for it to last. Something pleasant to indulge in simply because there was time.

  They were sitting along the low port rail, the seat nearest the water, and she held a hand out to it as she settled against the cushion. “What we’ve got here, Hawkins…” She could feel an occasional spray against her palm that managed to separate itself from the sea, “is a romantic situation.”

  “We sure do.”

  She turned her face into the wind, more to avoid his gaze than to keep hair back. As if he might somehow catch sight of those sweeping feelings she was hoping not to show. “Like when two co-workers fall for each other during a project,” she went on, “or ―”

  He took her face in his hands and turned it back to his, and knowing he was going to kiss her, Dee put both of her hands on his in an effort to slow him down. “Or two actors that work too many hours together on the same�
��picture―it’s just the situation, Hawk―it’s―”

  She didn’t get any farther on her prepared speech. His mouth stopped the flow of words, gently at first, and then with an intensity that made her heart beat faster. Dee tried to pull back, surprised that he could convey such intimate messages without any words, before she could even ward them off. It was as if she were an instrument he already knew how to play.

  “What’s wrong, sugar?” he whispered. “You can’t say my intentions aren’t honorable.”

  “No relationship, that’s what we agreed, Hawkins.” She pulled his hands away from her face but didn’t let go of them in case he should catch and hold her again. “That’s what we agreed.”

  “Dee, we have a relationship.” He closed his hands over hers as if she had meant for him to hold them.

  “This isn’t a relationship, it’s purely physical.”

  “You’ve been sending out some pretty strong signals, sweetheart. You’re not going to turn and run now, are you?”

  “I’m not responsible for your uncanny ability to interpret feelings. You ought to be ashamed of yourself playing with people’s feelings the way you do. It’s…it’s an invasion of privacy.”

  “You shared them with me.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Why hold out? Did it ever occur to you we might actually enjoy ourselves, here? Friendly’s better than bickering, and we might even turn out to be real friends.”

  “You risked your life for mine, Hawkins. Friends don’t come any better than that. But you know something? I think if it had been Marion or Starr out there, you would have done the same thing for them just as quick. That’s a rare and amazing quality few people have and I’m…awed by it, Hawk…I…”

  “So, why the no?”

  She was startled by his directness, yet when he pulled her into an embrace, she had no inclination to resist, surprised at how easy it was to put her arms around his neck and give into the wonderful feeling. Suddenly, it was not hard to reveal her deepest feelings, and the discovery that he was as easy to talk to as he was to take shelter in, made her feel safe.

  The simmering below the surface of her heart…that feeling she had been mulling over since this afternoon, was as much a revelation to herself when she replied, as it was to him.

  “Because I don’t want to be left in bits and pieces when you go. I don’t want to love you, Hawkins! Because I’m a forever person, and losing someone I had given myself to would kill me. So if you care anything for me at all, don’t ask anymore. Please.”

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go of her, either. Dee knew she struck a nerve and he was deciding.

  “You don’t know what you’re passing up. How can you decide on something before you try it?”

  “Because both of us already know who we are. My heart wouldn’t handle devastation very well. And I have a feeling yours wouldn’t, either.” Dee pulled away from him.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Dee.”

  “I’m just being honest.”

  “Well, if you said anything else, I’d have had an answer for it.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I hope you’re good at saying, no, because it’s not one of my strong points.”

  “I don’t have another ‘no’ left in me, Hawkins.”

  “I knew that before you came up here.”

  “So, where does it leave us?”

  “You on one side of the boat and me on the other.” Then he smiled that beautiful smile. “Which I would trade in on a friend for life any day. You’re quite a woman, sugar.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re going to need some serious rules if this arrangement’s going to work.” He stood up and unclipped his own safety line. “No more enjoying how sweet and cuddly you are before you wake up, that’s for sure.”

  “Wayne Hawkins! You mean you…why if that isn’t the most underhanded way of taking advantage of a person, I don’t know what is!”

  He laughed. “I couldn’t resist. But people only give what they want to, you know. Even in their sleep. Maybe if you’d trust me a little more you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of so many secrets.”

  “I don’t have many left.”

  “That’s an understatement. We’ve got the whole country knowing what we’re up to. What else could there be?”

  He stopped the rhythmic motion of coiling the safety line up neatly and looked over at her. “There is something else, isn’t there? Come on, baby, let’s be straight with each other. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, what else do you want?”

  “There is something else, actually. One last thing before we can…oh, Hawk…” She sighed and looked away. “I’m afraid it’s going to knock you for a loop.”

  “Then you better tell me straight out and get it over with.”

  “It’s about the journal.”

  “I knew it!” He shook his head and swore under his breath before placing the coiled line over one of the nearest stanchions. “It didn’t make sense keeping it to yourself this long. Has to be a hitch somewhere.”

  Dee was surprised by her sudden dread of disappointing him.

  “Well, come on, what is it?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it. I mean, didn’t you say we had to be far enough out so they couldn’t pick up our conversations?”

  “It’s all right.” He sat down on the seat. “I took the camera apart last night. Turned out it’s only a small tracking device, not a bug.”

  “You took my camera apart? Hawk, that’s a thousand dollar camera. I do all my work with that!”

  “I put it back together.”

  “You should have at least asked me. What if it doesn’t work right?”

  “I’ll replace it. Now, what about the journal, sweets?”

  “It’s…what it is…” She readjusted the clip in her hair, but even with the momentary delay, the right words still didn’t come. “Oh, I should probably just show you,” she finally conceded.

  “How about right now? You know where the key is. Might as well get it out of the safe.”

  “You mean, leave my watch? You said, if I ever…”

  “The captain’s on the bridge,” he answered in a tone that sounded more ominous than permissive. “So go ahead.”

  22

  The Last Secret

  “I found it a great relief to be again on the sweet, blue sea, out of sight of land, and free. Only on the bounding blue, is one rocked into a peaceful rest at noon of day, at dusk of night, feeling that one is drifting, drifting, not seeing, or knowing, or caring, about fool mortals striving for life.” ~ Nellie Bly

  Even Marion’s laptop was quiet down below. The salon, bathed in its red glow of night lighting, looked like a crimson pen and ink drawing from an era gone by. The luxurious tufted seats and mahogany table, shining brass and glass fixtures, and even the small painting of an old schooner that hid the yacht’s safe, spoke to Dee of another time. In this dark and quiet hour she could almost picture the famous Hermann Goering sitting at this table, his face flushed with drink, cigar smoke wafting up toward the ceiling, running thick ring-clad fingers through his notorious hoard of jewels. It almost gave her a chill.

  But she was avoiding…again.

  By the time she returned to the deck, she had a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. The journal was her last hold over Hawk for keeping the upper hand in a contest that was rapidly slipping to his favor. A week ago, she would have held out to her last breath to keep the controlling factor. But it didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. What mattered to her now was not whether she could keep the reins on this whole expedition, but that Wayne Hawkins would not lose whatever respect he had somehow built up for her.

  He was not in the cockpit when she came out, but adjusting a loose sail on the upper deck. She felt the slight increase in their slant as he pulled on a line, making the sail take more wind and pick up Pandora’s speed. When he retur
ned, she was sitting at the lower rail again. Dee quietly held out the journal to him as he stepped lightly down from the walkway to join her. He took it over beneath the red glow of the cockpit light and, unable to sit still, she got up to stand near the wheel. It only took a few minutes.

  “This isn’t Peterson’s writing.” And then a few moments later when the full realization struck him. “This is… it’s not even… why, the whole thing is in German! Do you speak German?”

  “No,” she replied, “but Nels gave me a general idea of what was in it. And I brought a German/English dictionary.”

  “A German/English dictionary—it would take weeks to figure this thing out with all the colloquialisms, slang, and conjugated verbs! You know where this puts us? It puts us right back in …” He stopped as the full impact of their situation dawned on him.

  He shook his head slowly. “You are one cool manipulator.” He set the journal aside and looked at her in utter amazement. “You bluffed your way right into the middle of this thing. You don’t know any more than Starr and I do! If I’d have known this, last week, I would have left you in Oregon.”

  Dee’s first inclination was to back off when he started toward her but she held her ground. He put a hand over one of hers, against the wheel, so she couldn’t move away even if she wanted to. Once again, she could see shadows of a temper only barely kept in check.

  “You’re like the eye of a hurricane, you know that? All beautiful and peaceful to look at but deadly dangerous to get tangled up in.” He let go and moved back under the light to flip through the journal pages again as if he couldn’t believe it.