by Anita Kidesu
Toby frowned at Jack. “Something wrong?”
“Nah, just a long flight,” he answered, hoping Toby believed his lie. Toby’s knit brow made Jack doubt Toby had fallen for his line.
“Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get going,” Emma said, practically bouncing down the trail. “Come on, you guys,” she called over her shoulder. “Get the lead out.”
Jack glanced at his two friends, who hesitated. Something was going on. “You guys okay?”
“I need to talk to Emma first,” Toby said.
“Me, too,” Steve agreed.
“I’ve got a feeling this isn’t going to be the week Emma planned,” he muttered to his friends. One he hadn’t planned on either. The only thing this serious would be Toby and Steve asking her to marry one of them. If she said yes, he would leave gracefully and…probably drink for weeks on end. “Let’s catch up with her and get this over with.”
****
Jack’s heart raced when they entered their old campsite. He wiped his sweaty palms down his shorts. Except for a few leaves and branches on the ground, nothing seemed to have changed. The door to the plane was closed tight. The winged stovetop lay across the fire pit. Their chairs sat in a semi-circle in the sand. The shower stall looked a little crooked, but nothing they couldn’t fix easily.
The only thing he knew that had changed was himself.
“No cyclones this year, Toby?” Emma asked when they entered the old crash site.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Everything is exactly the same as last year, which can only mean no bad storms.” Emma dropped her bags to the ground and ran to the plane. “I’m going to open this up and air it out.”
Toby grabbed her arm before she got to the steps. “Emma, wait. I need to talk to you.”
Emma frowned. “Now?”
“Now.”
“Let’s go up to the pool.”
“No, I need to say this in front of Jack and Steve.”
Jack stared at his shoes. Here it comes.
“Let’s sit down,” Emma suggested. “I believe I need to hear this sitting.”
Once they were all seated, Toby took a deep breath. “I’m leaving the island.”
Jack sat up from his slouched position. “You’re what? Why? You’re doing such good work here.”
Steve leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. “Yeah, from what Jack told me, the tribe is doing well and everyone is healthy.”
“True, but there is so much more I need to learn about physiology and the way inbreeding affects human development. I’ve noticed over the last four years that the children born to parents who are related are less healthy and are slower to develop and learn. I want to go back to school and study more.”
He turned to Emma and took her hand. “I’m taking one of the women with me. She’s been such a help these past years. We’ve fallen in love. I’ve asked her to marry me.”
After a few moments of shocked silence, Emma jumped up and hugged Toby. “That’s wonderful, Toby. When are you leaving?”
“I’d like to leave tomorrow, if Jack will take me.”
Emma went white. Evidently her initial excited reaction to his news was hitting home. Jack understood the feeling.
“Tomorrow? But what about our week together?” Tears pooled in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Emma, but I need to leave. I can’t cheat on Salome. Besides, there’s a terrific program in Sydney starting in a few weeks. I need to find us a place to live, then I’ll come back and get her. She wants to go to school.”
“Do you want to leave in the morning?” Jack’s heart dropped. While he was happy for his friend, it meant their group was breaking up.
“No, the afternoon is fine.”
Steve pushed up his glasses, but didn’t look at anyone. “Uh, Jack?”
“Don’t tell me you fell in love, too, Steve?” Jack said, waiting for Steve to drop to his knees, express his undying love to Emma, and ask her to marry him. When Steve dropped to his knees and took Emma’s hand in his, Jack nearly cried.
“I’m sorry, Emma, but I can’t go through with this. I met a woman—an archeology professor at the university.”
“You’re getting married?” Emma asked, her words breathless. Pain flickered in her eyes.
He wiped his damp forehead with his forearm and took a deep breath. “I hope so. I haven’t asked her yet.”
“Well, she’s crazy if she doesn’t say yes, Steve.” Again, Emma stood and hugged one of their friends. “When are you going to ask her?”
“As soon as I can get back to the States. She’s taking a sabbatical next semester to go on a dig in Egypt, and I want to go with her—as her husband.”
What the hell was happening, Emma wondered, trying to keep from screaming. In a matter of minutes, she’d lost two of her best friends. From the smirk on Jack’s face, she had a sneaking suspicion she’d lose one more before the day was through.
“Tomorrow afternoon okay with you, Steve?” Jack asked, his deep voice interrupting her thoughts.
Steve grinned, his eyes shining with love. “That’ll be fine.”
Emma sat back down and frowned at Jack. “So did you fall in love, too?”
Jack leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yup.”
“Who is she?” Steve asked.
“Someone I met a few years ago, but she was unavailable at the time. We bump into each other every so often and now she’s free so… Well, you know.”
“You’re getting married, too?” Her voice rose with each word until she sounded like the parrots in the jungle. Couldn’t they see her heart was breaking? Couldn’t they see how their news was killing her?
“If she says yes.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Toby slapped his knees. “Imagine all three of us falling in love at the same time. Wow, that’s incredible.”
“Toby, shut up,” Jack said, nodding at Emma.
“Oh, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You okay, honey?”
Emma tried to swallow around the beach ball-sized lump in her throat and blinked away tears. “Sure, why shouldn’t I be? After all, we understood this day might come. We didn’t have any commitments other than meeting here once a year. I’m happy for the three of you.” She jumped up and headed toward the plane, stopped, and came back. “Hell, it isn’t everyday a woman loses her three friends and lovers in one fell swoop.”
“You’ll find someone, Emma,” Steve said softly.
“Not likely. A person can’t date when she must go through mourning for three more months, even if the person who died was someone she wasn’t even married to.” Emma wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and hiccupped.
“Will you come back with us tomorrow, Emma?” Toby asked.
“The plane’s not big enough,” Jack answered before she could reply.
“Will you stay here?”
Emma sat back down in her chair. “Sure. My plane isn’t scheduled to pick me up for another seven days. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will,” Jack said. “We know the island is safe now. The villagers don’t like coming to this side, and other than flying in, there’s no other way to get here.”
Emma sniffled again. “Sure, I’ll be fine. I brought cards and a bunch of books I’ve been meaning to read. I can use the solitude to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” She sniffled louder and smiled at her men through her tears. With a pain in her heart, she realized she couldn’t call them “her men” anymore. “Oh, hell. Who wants to play cards and get drunk?”
Toby stood. “Sure.”
“Let me get the cards,” Jack said.
Steve headed for the crates. “I’ll open the booze.”
“Poker?” Emma asked.
“Not strip like the last time.” Toby laughed.
“No, not strip,” Emma agreed, recalling how after one hand, he’d lost the only thing he’d been wearing, his shorts. Pasting on a smile tha
t didn’t come from her heart, she took out a deck of cards. “Break out the bottle, boys, and let’s get to work,”
****
The next morning, Emma woke alone in the plane and groaned. Her head pounded like a bulldozer had run over it. Why did she drink so much last night? Oh yeah, her life was over. She’ll go back to Washington, D.C., to her lonely apartment, partake in her parents’ social events, work at the museum, work with women to get their lives on track, and move from day to day with nothing more than a blank wall in front of her.
Maybe the guys would invite her to their houses for a visit. She would play with their kids, pretend to like their wives, and try to remember she no longer had the right to their husbands’ bodies.
Emma rolled over and attempted to open eyes as gritty as if a sandstorm played havoc in them.
“Here, drink this,” Jack said, smiling. The sun reflected off his teeth, making her brain reverberate in her skull.
“Go ‘way,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be such a baby. This is our last day together, so get up, put on your happy face, and don’t make them feel guilty for leaving early.”
“I’m not a baby,” she pouted.
“Then quit acting like one.”
“Jack?”
“What?”
“Are you really in love?” She hoped he was pulling one of his jokes.
“Yes.”
“Really and truly?” She stared at him and wondered why she’d never realized this before. He was “the one.” Why wasn’t she the one he loved? She didn’t think it was possible, but her heart broke a little more.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Damned if I know,” he answered with a chuckle, placing the cup of coffee on the floor next to her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The morning passed too quickly for Emma, although she figured the hours dragged for the men. They all wore grins big enough to make an angel sick. Their sparkling eyes would light a city block. Jack whistled the wedding march song until she threw a cup at him and told him to shut the hell up.
So she acted like a baby. Big deal. She’d pout and scream and pound her fists into the sand if she wanted to, but only after the men left.
After lunch, she walked them down to Jack’s plane. One-by-one she hugged and kissed them goodbye.
“I do love you,” Steve said. His mouth was turned down, and his eyes had a suspicious shine to them.
At least he looks sad to be leaving me. She looked at Jack’s smiling face. Not like another big jerk she could think of. “I know, Steve. You’re just not in love with me.”
“You always were smart.” With a quick kiss on her nose, he jogged down to the plane.
“Well, babe, time to leave. I love you, too.” Toby ran a palm over her cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb.
“But I’m not Salome.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Can I come visit you some time?”
“Sure, I’d love you to come. So would Salome. You’ll like her. She’s a strong woman, like you.”
Emma snorted. Strong? Not likely.
“Love ya,” he called over his shoulder before climbing into the plane.
“Love ya back,” she whispered to the wind.
Jack slung his backpack over his shoulder. “So Emma-girl. You’ll be all right after I leave?”
“Sure, why not? I’m a big girl.”
He took a few steps toward his plane. “Yeah, I know. Well, see ya around.”
“What? No kiss?”
“Oh. Okay.” He turned around and came back to her.
“Gee, don’t do me any favors.”
“My pleasure.” He tipped her back over his arm and before his lips met hers, he whispered, “Here’s one for the road.”
His kiss sent all too familiar spirals of heat through her. She tried tamping them down, knowing she no longer had the right to these feelings with him. But his lips were too hot, too intimate. Then the reality of him being in love with someone else finally registered through her foggy brain. She pushed her palms against his chest and broke from his embrace.
He stared at her for a moment, and Emma thought she saw something in his eyes. Regret? In a second it was gone. With a jaunty grin, he gave her a two-finger salute then disappeared into the plane.
Not wanting to watch the plane take off and disappear into the horizon, Emma ran back to the wrecked Norseman, took the steps two at a time, and threw herself on her bed. She pouted, screamed, and pounded her fists—all the things a baby would do. She placed a hand over her heart, knowing for sure it was split in three pieces, one for each of the men now flying from her life. Surprisingly one piece was larger than the rest. She cried herself to sleep.
****
Emma rolled over the next morning and peered through puffy, gritty eyes. She ran her tongue over dry, cracked lips. A blazing sun ray pierced through her skull. She pulled the blanket over her head and went back to sleep, a task she handled well after the men left. Whenever she woke, she told herself to get up and eat. Instead, the quiet got to her. She lay back down and cried some more. At this rate she’d die of dehydration.
Rolling over onto her hands and knees, she pushed against the floor and stood. Even though she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since the night before, the hangover persisted.
“Food,” she mumbled. “I need food.”
She cupped her hand over her eyes to shield them from the blinding sun. Except for the lapping of the ocean against the shore and the calling of a few birds, quiet prevailed. Too much quiet. How would she ever manage to be alone for six more days? She needed to go to the one place where it was so loud she wouldn’t be able think.
Grabbing a backpack, she tossed in some fruit, rolls, and cheese, added a towel, washcloth, soap, and a blanket. Looking around to make sure she didn’t forget anything, she hiked up the trail to the lake.
Emma arrived at the beach and stripped. With no one to observe her, it didn’t matter if she was naked or not. Carrying the soap in the washcloth, she walked into the water to her waist, washed her hair, gave her body a once over, and tossed the soap and rag toward shore. She swam into deeper water toward the falls.
A mound of rocks sat under the waterfall. A person could sit under the falls and let the water rain over them, like a power shower. She pulled herself up, sat Yoga style and closed her eyes, letting every thought run down her body and into the lake.
With her mind blank, she gave no thought to the passage of time. Maybe she dozed, but without warning the hair on the back of her neck and arms prickled, and her spine zapped.
Someone watched her.
Not moving a muscle, she eased her eyes open. A man stood at the top of the ridge, looking down. The water blocked a clear view of him. Had one of the natives become brave enough to trek across the mountain and found out she stayed here alone? Did he think she was fair pickings?
The man turned and walked away, giving Emma a chance to slip into the water. She swam under the falls and hid. Through the cascading water she glimpsed him walking down the ridge toward the end of the lake. Oh, shit, he’d see her clothes and realize she was naked. Now what?
She searched for some way to climb to the top and hide in the cave when the man caught her attention again. He stood on the beach, holding up her clothes. Emma swam out from under the falls. The man was tall, dark and incredibly handsome.
Jack.
Her heart hiccoughed then kicked into high gear. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy flickered. Damn, she shouldn’t have this reaction to a man who’d left her for another woman.
Emma tread water as Jack slipped off his shirt, shoes, shorts and boxers, exposing his obvious arousal. What the hell was he doing back here? Had the woman he loved dumped him and now he figured he would come back to her? The ass. Well, he could go somewhere else and figure.
As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he walked into the water. Emma swam toward him at a pace that wou
ld make an Olympic champion proud. By the time he reached where Emma had bathed, she was at his side.
His smile almost made her rethink her anger. Almost, but not quite. No mega-watt smile would sway her. No siree. The tip of his cock bobbed in and out of the water. She gulped. Now this wouldn’t be quite as easy, but dammit, no mega-sized cock was going to sway her, either.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Emma asked, making sure she stayed under the water to her chin.
“Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
“Show me an old friend, and I’ll gladly greet him.”
Jack frowned. “Hey, what’s the matter? Aren’t you happy I’m here?”
“That depends on why you’re here. Did your woman dump you? Did you figure you can come back to good old Emma who will certainly spread her legs for you? Is your woman gone this week so you thought you would have a good time with good old Emma for a few days?”
Jack put his hands on his hips. Emma’s gaze followed the movement, glad his cock no longer peeked above the water. Guilt must be a way of killing the best of erections, and man, his was one of the best.
“What the hell are you raving about? What woman?”
“The woman you fell in love with. The woman you plan to marry.” She splashed water at his face and swam into deeper water. “That woman.”
He ran a hand down his face. “Why you foolish little…little… Oh, you make me so angry right now I can’t even think of a word to call you.”
“How about bitch, whore, slut. That’s what you think of me. That’s why you’re back here. I’m an easy lay.”
“Emma, shut up and listen.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Come here before you drown.”
“Why, so you can ogle my breasts? No way, buster.”
