by Donna Alward
“You still have a right to your own life.” She looked at him sharply, so he dropped his hand. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do. I just don’t want to have the conversation.” She reached inside her pocket for her phone. “I don’t like what I do, Eric. I dole out the remains of what was once love and commitment. I look at it in terms of dollar signs and assets. God, do you know how awful it is when children are treated as assets? Or even family pets? To know that victory for my client means someone else is having their heart broken? Or that children are caught in the middle of a god-awful tug-of-war?”
She admitted something finally, in the fading light of a Pacific sunset, on the shores of a remote lodge with a handsome stranger. “I don’t want to do this anymore. And I have no idea how to tell my family or what to do next.”
He, too, took out his phone. “I’m all about the next deal, and time is always of the essence. Lost minutes can be lost thousands of dollars, even millions. And what do I have at the end of the day? More assets that I sell off to make more money, which I then invest in buying more assets. I’m very good at making money, Molly. But I suck at making anything that lasts. Including my marriage. The breakup was all my fault. Murielle probably would have worked at it if I had.” He hesitated. “If I’d put as much effort into our emotional security as I did into our financial.”
“Maybe...she just wasn’t the right person. Because don’t you think you’d have been there if she was?”
“I’d like to think that. But I’m not sure I can push the blame off on something as simplistic as ‘not the right one.’”
Silence fell for a few moments, and then Molly brightened. “So, what are we going to do about this, then?” She shook her hand with the phone cradled in her palm.
He lifted his phone. “Maybe we need to make a ritualistic sacrifice.”
“I thought we weren’t going to throw them in the ocean.”
“We’re not. We’re going to smash the hell out of them.”
A laugh escaped her lips, an incredulous and delighted sound. “We are?”
“Yep.” He looked around and found a somewhat flat rock. “Okay. We put them down here. We need another rock to smash them with.”
“No one will be able to reach us.”
“I left the name of the tour company. Did you?”
“Of course.”
“Then they can reach us in an emergency. Are you in or are you out?”
Excitement rippled through her veins. Maybe this was a first step toward moving into her own independence. Choosing for herself.
She found a rock a little ways away, one that fit nicely into her hand, with a sharp edge on one side. “Will this do?”
“That looks perfect. Do you want to go first?”
“It’s your idea. I think you should do the honors.”
He took the rock and tossed it up and down in his hand a few times. “Okay. You ready?”
“If you are.”
He put his phone down on the flat rock, took a deep breath and brought his arm down in one swift swing. There was a crunching sound, and when he lifted the rock, his phone was shattered right in the middle.
“Okay, your turn.”
Molly’s insides churned. She wasn’t sure why. It was just a stupid phone. It was nothing to be afraid of. She could buy a new one in the next town if she wanted.
He handed her the rock. She let it roll around in her hand for a moment, feeling the weight of it, the hard edges. Then she carefully set her phone down on the flat surface.
Then, with formidable strength and a steady aim, she brought the rock down on the screen and felt it shatter as the contact vibrated through her hand.
It did feel rather symbolic. And frightening. And liberating.
“You did it,” Eric said approvingly. “I thought for a minute you were going to chicken out.”
She shook her head. “Nope. It’s time for a change. I think I’ve known it for a long time, and it took getting away for me to make the first step.”
“Scared?”
“Plenty. But...” An expansive feeling filled her chest. “But excited, too.” She grinned up at him, thrilled when she saw him grinning back. “After today, I think everything is going to change.”
CHAPTER SIX
SHE WASN’T WRONG.
Everything changed the next day, when they left Campbell River and headed farther north to their base camp on the Johnstone Strait. Civilization was left behind as they traveled to where they’d camp for three nights. Instead of taking full luggage, they took only what they’d need for their kayaking tour and left the rest at the hotel, where they’d return before heading on to other adventures.
It wasn’t the sleeping-in-a-tent part that had Molly fazed. The tents were on platforms, and there were actual off-the-ground beds inside with plenty of comfortable bedding. No, it was the wobbly kayak in front of her that was freaking her out right now. This was far more daunting than the snorkeling, where she could put her feet down on the bottom of the river whenever she wanted and was only a few feet from shore, with a boat standing by.
“Bucket list,” she reminded herself shakily. “Adventure doesn’t mean it’s easy. You got this, Quinn.”
“Talking to yourself?”
“Yes.” She looked up at Eric with a scowl. “I have a number of irrational fears, okay?”
“Don’t we all?” He wiped his hands on his shorts. “Let me guess. Another first?”
“Yes.” She huffed out a big breath. “And I’m afraid of tipping and...getting stuck underwater.” The thought threatened to make her hyperventilate. She hadn’t really thought it would be this hard.
He looked into her face by bending his knees a bit so they were the same height. “You’ll bob right back up again.”
“But these are the skinny kayaks,” she said apprehensively. “I read that they’re not as stable as the sit-on-top kind.”
She knew she was not sounding very adventurous, so she straightened. “Never mind. I’ll stop being a weenie.”
She was a few steps away when he moved forward and caught her arm. “Not a weenie. But you’re not the only first-timer here, and I’m sure the guides are used to it. Besides, like every other outing, you’re not alone. You’ll be safe. The guides are with us, and we’re with each other. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Promise.”
A strange look passed over his face, and she wondered why, but her nerves were jangling around too loudly for her to worry about it. He let go of her arm and went over to where his kayak waited. This evening they were going to learn the basics and paddle around their little cove as they got used to their kayaks. Tomorrow would take them farther up the strait. They’d be gone almost the whole day.
The instructor showed them how to get into the kayaks and adjust the skirt around the top to keep the water out of the cockpit. Molly felt less than graceful as she put one foot in and then the other, then got her feet positioned. She loved the idea of being on the water, but there was something about being secured that made her feel so vulnerable. Trapped. She had her paddle, and one by one the instructors came along and pushed each craft farther into the water until they were bobbing on the surface.
She had no idea why she felt as if the boat were on a tightrope or balance beam, but with each sideways movement she gave a gasp and then overcorrected.
One of the instructors pulled up alongside. “Nervous?”
“Very,” she admitted.
The woman looked right in Molly’s eyes. “You got this. The water’s calm and you’re not going to flip. I’m here, too.”
It was exactly what Eric had said. Molly gave a quick nod. “Okay.”
Once they were all bobbing, the instructors showed the correct paddling method, and they set off on little experimental lines in the immediate area. Molly looked over at Eric—his pa
ddle sliced confidently through the surface of the water. She set her jaw and dipped her paddle, moving her shoulder and torso as she pushed the blade against the resistance of the water, then did the same on the other side. She shot forward, scaring herself but feeling a little exhilarated just the same. Over the next thirty minutes, she learned how to turn and back up, and the instructor even demonstrated a roll...in case someone capsized.
The nerves bubbled up again, making it hard to breathe.
Eric slid up beside her, his boat barely making a ripple in the water. “You look like you want to throw up,” he said lightly.
But she shook her head. “Nope. I’m just not going to need to know how to roll because I’m not going to capsize.” She smiled brightly. “I didn’t get to where I am today by letting stuff happen to me. I know how to take charge. I just need to put my mind to it.”
Eric grinned. “Atta girl.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please.” She nudged away with her paddle. Maybe he didn’t mean to be condescending, but it was time she faced up to those fears. If she couldn’t handle a kayak, how was she going to handle telling her father she was leaving the firm?
Her body went cold. Was she really going to do that? Leave altogether? She knew she didn’t have to decide today, but was she really leaning toward a full exit and on to something entirely different?
It was like being on a trapeze without a safety net.
She managed to paddle another half hour and then, after they’d put up their kayaks for the night, she changed into yoga pants and a light hoodie and joined the group around a blazing fire. The wood snapped and sparked as they talked quietly, but Molly rarely spoke, instead sitting with her thoughts. What did she want to do if she wasn’t a part of the firm? Did she even still want to be a lawyer, or had that all been part of the expectations, too?
Eric showed up for about half an hour and then left again, and she was slightly relieved but more disappointed. He had a way of asking good questions and really making her think. Plus he was objective, wasn’t he? Oddly enough, she found herself wanting his input and advice.
His words came back to her, from that first day at the winery. His wife—ex-wife—had called him “unavailable.” Molly could see how that could be an accurate descriptor. He’d shared some things with her, sure, but he wasn’t exactly an open book. And tonight, when they might have sat and talked around a blazing fire, he sat on the other side and then disappeared.
No, this was something she was going to have to figure out on her own.
And that wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all.
* * *
The next morning dawned clear and mild. Sun streamed into Molly’s tent and she stared up at the nylon ceiling for a moment, listening to the sounds around her, including the soft lap, lap of the waves on the shore of the inlet. Today was her biggest challenge yet: paddling with whales. It was nearly September, and their guide had said there was other wildlife they might encounter while on their trip. Humpbacks, bigger than orcas, were occasionally seen, and porpoises, seals and sea lions were all strong possibilities. Once more her stomach tumbled nervously, out of simple respect that she was so very small in comparison to the larger mammals. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. Eric had been right yesterday. She had to trust their guides. This was their job, and Molly didn’t have to control everything.
She got up, dressed in yoga pants, a T-shirt and a light pullover and stepped outside her tent to start her day.
Breakfast was delicious and plentiful, and the group was full of barely concealed excitement for the day’s journey. She didn’t quite feel like eating and forced down as much as she could, as she’d be expending a lot of energy during the morning. Apparently they’d stop for lunch somewhere and then spend the afternoon coming back down the strait to base camp, dinner and a hot safari-style shower.
Before she was ready, they were at the shore, putting gear in dry bags and securing them in kayak compartments. For the first time, Molly regretted smashing her phone. It was her camera for the trip, and now she had nothing. Maybe when they stopped at a town again she’d grab a cheap digital camera so she’d have it for the rest of her vacation.
Shawn, the main guide, came over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You look nervous. If you like, you can double up with me or with Eric. The double kayaks are a little more stable.”
It was tempting, but her stubborn streak won out again. Yes, she had a terrible fear of being underwater, but she’d made it through snorkeling and she’d face this on her own, too. “I’ll be okay,” she assured him, more confidently than she felt. “I’ve got this. If you’re patient, that is.”
“Don’t worry. We have several first-timers in the group. Nothing is rushed. That’s not what the trip is about.” He smiled at her. “If you need anything, just let one of us know. That’s what we’re here for.”
He moved on and she glanced over at Eric, who was watching her. She gave a wave and a big smile, though the offer to partner up was incredibly tempting. At the end of the day she wanted to be able to say she did it. She wasn’t worried about any of the other activities, but the snorkeling and kayaking were the two things that gave her pause. The idea of somehow being underwater and unable to breathe simply freaked her out. She’d been that way since she was a kid. She took a deep breath. Maybe she’d made safe choices all along because she knew what it was to be in over her head...literally.
Everyone got inside their kayaks, and before she could say “killer whales,” she was in the water, clutching the paddle for dear life and semi-ready to face the challenge ahead.
They started out slowly, getting the hang of things and finding a rhythm with the paddles. Molly concentrated so hard she didn’t have much of a chance to really look around her and take in the scenery, but she was more focused on staying upright and her technique than the rugged shoreline or the view of the mountains on the mainland in the distance.
About an hour into their trip they paused and watched a group of Dall’s porpoises, their sleek forms arcing in and out as they raced through the water. Farther on they saw seals sunning themselves on rocks in the late-morning sun, a few of their little heads poking through the water, their dark eyes full of mischief. Molly got a little thrill as one adventurous seal followed along beside her kayak for a while. She wondered if the seal was curious or even somehow challenging her to a race, but after five minutes or so it disappeared beneath the surface and its little head popped up several meters away. They stopped for lunch and feasted on thick sandwiches, salad and iced tea, then took some time to sit on the rocks and chill out.
This was the most beautiful place Molly had ever seen. Not another person for miles. Not a house or a store or anything—it was untouched. She thought of her place back home, and all the day-to-day concerns that ate up her time. How many of them really mattered? They didn’t. Not here. And it made her crave a simpler life.
It also gave her some much-needed clarity.
She looked over at Eric. He was so handsome, so charismatic. The man who’d barged into her hotel bathroom in Victoria wasn’t the real Eric Chambault. Eric was genuine and smart and funny. So what if he didn’t spill his guts every second? They were strangers, after all. When all was said and done, he’d actually shared a lot, and had given her a boost of confidence on more than one occasion. Not to mention making her toes curl at their near kiss in the hot tub. She couldn’t deny that he was in her thoughts in ways that weren’t entirely innocent. What would happen if they kissed? Did she really want to go there? Wouldn’t it just complicate things?
And was it possible to have a holiday fling without feelings being involved? Because she was self-aware enough to know that she was vulnerable right now, being at a personal crossroads. And the last thing she needed was to be hurt because she’d set up expectations that could never be met.
She’d expected her ex to be supportive, after all. And he wa
sn’t. He hadn’t cared about her dreams. His definition of love had meant having the right sort of wife on his arm for his own ambitions. What did she expect out of Eric? Anything?
He looked over and met her gaze, and the moment held longer than was polite. Recognition and heat flashed in his eyes, and Molly’s cheeks flushed though she didn’t break eye contact. The near kiss in the hot tub had been so close that she’d almost felt his lips against hers. What would it be like to actually be touched by him? To be kissed for real and held in his arms?
He lifted an eyebrow and she couldn’t help it; her lips twitched in a saucy curve. Lord, she loved how he challenged her. She was braver when he was around, and she liked that about herself.
Shortly after that they were back in their kayaks and heading south again, toward base camp. Little islands dotted the strait, and the guides took them on a slightly different route. Paddling was a little more effortless, and Molly started enjoying the ride. They were only half a kilometer from camp when a shout went up and a ripple of excitement raced through the group.
A pod of orcas, their dorsal fins straight and black, broke the surface, maybe a hundred and fifty meters away.
Restrictions prevented the group from getting any closer. It didn’t, however, prevent the killer whales from coming closer on their own. The tour group stayed close to the shoreline of the little island, and before long the whales were only about fifty meters away, curving through the surface, black-and-white and startlingly large. The closer they got, the more excited and anxious Molly became.
One particularly active one broke the surface and there was a loud sound as water and air rushed out of its blowhole. Behind it, three more surfaced, coming ever closer.
This was exciting, but from a distance. Molly’s fear of a whale getting too close to her little kayak took hold again, and her hands trembled on her paddle. She put the blade in the water and tried to move to the inside of the group, but the waves were lapping around the fiberglass and she was too inexperienced to maneuver well. She froze when she could see the white circle on the head of the lead whale, the height of the dorsal fin so large this close-up. It went under the water again and she imagined it heading straight for them, beneath their kayaks. What would happen if it tried to surface and they were in the way?
