Until Tomorrow

by Kari Lee Harmon

  She heard him stop walking. “Up where? I don’t see you.”

  Holding tight to the branches, she inched her way down to a better vantage point and peeked through the leaves. “In the tree above you.”

  He looked up. “I still can’t find you.”

  “Look higher.”

  “Higher? How much higher could you possibly go?” He shaded his eyes with his big hand and squinted. It took him a moment, but then he spotted her. His eyes sprang wide and he cursed. “You really are insane.”

  “Not insane, just impulsive, remember?”

  “That’s one word for it,” he muttered, clearly not amused.

  “The good news is, I got a signal and called for help,” she went on, ignoring his comment that had carried on the wind. “I tried to describe the island but then my phone went dead. Hopefully I gave them enough details to find us before I die up here.”

  “That’s not even funny.”

  “Seriously, Doc, I’m not trying to be funny. I’m actually terrified. How am I going to get down from here?”

  “Same way you got up there. Climb.”

  “I can’t,” she snapped, even though she knew it wasn’t his fault.

  “Why not?” he sounded exasperated.

  Nothing but silence hovered between them for a full beat. “I’m afraid,” she finally admitted.

  His whole face softened, making him look adorable and sweet and oh, so heroic. He seemed to think about that for a moment, and then he nodded more to himself, suddenly looking determined. “Okay. I’ll come up and get you.”

  Heroic or not, she couldn’t let him risk his own life because of her impulsive stupidity. She only had herself to think about. He had Trevor, and she knew how important that was to him. “Now you’re the one who’s talking crazy,” she responded. “You’re too big to climb trees. You’ll kill us both.”

  “Well, someone didn’t leave me much choice, now did she, Lois? Besides, I’m a Den Master in the making, remember?” He started climbing and the whole tree shook. Slipping a few times, he finally got a rhythm going.

  “Be careful.” She held on for dear life, reminding herself to breathe.

  “I always am.”

  It seemed like forever before Logan reached her. “You okay?” He searched her eyes as he touched her cheek. She nodded, too afraid to speak. “Climb onto my back and hold on tight.”

  “Oh God, what if we’re too heavy and the branches break?” she managed to get out, though she hated how weak her voice sounded.

  “I’m strong. I’ve got you.” His deep baritone was so reassuring, she clung to that for all she was worth.

  Emma did as Logan asked and wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly, feeling his heart beat against her chest. It was up to her to hold on because he needed his arms and legs to climb down. No worries there. She plastered herself to him like a second layer of skin. He started to move, and she closed her eyes and held her breath, burying her face in the crook of his neck and not saying another word until they reached the bottom of the tree. Only when she knew they were safe, did she lift her head and let out an explosion of air and open her eyes.

  “You can let go now,” he said in a strangled voice, carefully peeling her death grip from around his neck and crouching down until her feet touched the ground.

  “I’m sorry.” She reluctantly released him and shook out her wobbly limbs.

  “For what?” He eyed her curiously when he stood back up to face her.

  “For being so stupid again.”

  “Impulsive, remember?” He tipped up her chin. “Besides, if you hadn’t climbed that tree, there’s no way you would have gotten a signal and we might have been stuck here forever. You might not think so, but you’re a hero, too, Lois.”

  She knew he was being dramatic for her benefit. They did have the raft still, after all, but she would play along to reassure him she was okay even though she still felt shaky. “In that case, you’re welcome.” She couldn’t help herself.

  “Don’t push it.” He grunted in mock frustration, but couldn’t quite hide the slight upturn of his full lips. “Let’s go back by the fire and wait for help.”

  “Okay.” She followed him but couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

  They both sat by the fire he had rekindled. Ever the observant doctor, he must have recognized the signs of how rattled she was because he said, “We need a distraction.”

  “Like what?” she asked warily, wondering for an insane moment if he meant picking up where they’d left off this morning. Good God, her body had already started to respond at the mere thought of him touching her again. She prayed he wouldn’t notice.

  “Let’s read the letters.” He handed her the treasure box.

  She blinked, completely having forgotten about why they were on the island in the first place. “Good idea.” Relief slumped her shoulders and caused her to wilt. It had to be relief because if it wasn’t relief, then it felt suspiciously like disappointment. And disappointment meant she already cared about him more than she should. And caring about him equaled a whole new world of trouble she wasn’t ready for.

  October 1942: Beacon Bay, Maine

  Kathleen finished sealing the last of her canned goods for the winter with a sense of pride and satisfaction and then stored them on the shelves in her root cellar. Making her way up the stairs, she closed the door behind her and allowed herself a small smile. She’d grown her own food in her garden, caught her own fish, mended her clothes, and repaired her cottage all by herself.

  She’d done it. She’d survived the summer on her own.

  At times it had been lonely, but other times she’d felt a sense of peace and acceptance. This was her new life, and she was safe. She could wither up and cry her life away, or she could accept her fate and find a way to survive. She’d always been a fighter. In preparation for the winter, she’d canned seafood, fruits and vegetables, insulated her house the best she could, and cut down a massive amount of firewood. Her palms had the hardened blisters and calluses to prove it.

  She walked outside onto her back deck and stared out at the ocean. The days were growing shorter, the temperatures colder, but the view was breathtaking. Fall was her favorite time of year. She loved the crisp air and the trees on the small islands just offshore were vibrant and beautiful with shades of orange, yellow, red, and burgundy dotting the landscape as if an artist had splattered the hillside with paints from a pallet.

  It made Kathleen think of her students. She missed teaching those bright, eager faces and briefly wondered who her replacement might be and if they would care as much. But she’d long since given up on pining for things she had no control over. Shooting her favorite lighthouse one more look of appreciation, she went out front to get the mail.

  Stopping short, she sucked in a breath. “Mother, what are you doing here?”

  Sarah Reynolds was a replica of her daughter with sea-green eyes and caramel-brown wavy hair, only her eyes were faded and sad and her hair was now streaked with gray and hung to her waist. She left it long and free, in true artist fashion, and opted for flowing dresses and soft sweaters than more tailored skirts, blouses, and jackets like Kathleen. Today she wore a burnt orange, while Kathleen wore a sensible gray.

  “I miss you,” her mother said softly, wrapping her sweater more securely around her to ward off the chilly breeze. “We all do.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have thrown me out,” Kathleen responded, refusing to shiver over the cold or what her family had done to her. At her mother’s stricken look, she relented by adding, “I miss you, too.”

  Sarah wrung her hands, not quite meeting Kathleen’s eyes. “We didn’t throw you out, dear. We couldn’t have you living with us under the heavy weight of the scandal. You understand, don’t you? We’re not like you. We’re simple folk. We have to live in this town. What will happen if no one buys our fish or our fruits and vegetables or my paintings anymore? We’ll starve. It’s not that we don’t love you.”
r />   Kathleen wasn’t angry anymore. She’d forgiven the townsfolk, her family, and even William. Holding onto her anger and resentment was toxic. It wouldn’t do her any good, and it would only let them all know they had won. They had defeated her. She refused to be defeated. Letting all those feelings go had opened her up to a whole new world of possibilities.

  “I understand perfectly, but it’s fine, Mother.” She tried for a smile.

  Her mother’s eyes watered. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m surviving. It hasn’t been easy, but I am learning more every day and surprising myself.” Kathleen rubbed her arms through her cape. As confident as she might appear, she would be fooling herself if she didn’t admit she was worried. “The real test will be getting through a harsh Maine winter.”

  “It’s not too late you know.”

  Kathleen blinked and then narrowed her eyes. “For what?”

  “To go back where you belong.” Her mother took her hands in her own, and Kathleen smelled a mixture of baked bread and paint, making her long for home until the words her mother was speaking sank in. “William told me he’s changed. He asked if I would speak with you on his behalf. He wants you back. He’s willing to forgive you. He’s a good man, Kathleen. You could do worse.”

  Forgive her? Kathleen pulled her hands from her mother’s and fought the bile rising in her throat. “He’s not a good man,” she finally got out. “He’s a monster just like his father. He might not like what he’s become, but he can’t help himself. He’ll never change, and I’ll never forgive him.” She stared hard into her mother’s eyes. “I can do better.”

  “But he loves you.”

  “He doesn’t love me. He loves another. I wasn’t his first choice, he settled for me because she’s gone. I was his last hope for a family.”

  Sarah’s brow puckered in confusion. “Do you mean Evelyn Baker the woman he dated in high school? But they were just children, and she left him to run off with that drifter. She broke William’s heart. The whole town knows that. How does that make him a monster?”

  “She didn’t leave him for another man. She left him because he beat her just like he did me. William couldn’t handle it and tried to get her back. When she refused, he killed her in a fit of rage, and his father helped him cover it up.” Kathleen confided in her mother because she knew she would be too afraid to say anything to anyone else, and she couldn’t stand her family thinking highly of William. Maybe now they would understand why she’d left him and would never go back.

  Sarah gasped and covered her mouth.

  “William’s father told everyone that Evelyn ran off with someone else so they would see William as the poor victim and have pity on him. Her parents had to move away from the shame of it all, never knowing the truth about what really happened to their daughter.”

  “That can’t be right.” Sarah was shaking her head and backing away from Kathleen as if she were the crazy one. “If that’s true, then why hasn’t William tried to kill you?”

  “Who says he hasn’t?” William standing over her, threatening to push her off her deck flashed through Kathleen’s mind, and she tried not to flinch and cower.

  Her mother’s lips trembled, and she placed her fingertips to her mouth.

  Kathleen relented enough to say, “And he won’t.” She knew her mother didn’t want her dead. She was just a coward and would never stand up for her only daughter against the town. No matter how much she might think she loved her, the town was more powerful than she was. They both knew it. Sadness filled Kathleen because too much damage had been done. Even if her parents accepted her, she could never go back now.

  “What makes you so sure William killed Evelyn?” Sarah asked on a whispered sob.

  “Because he talks in his sleep, and I know where the body is buried,” Kathleen reassured her as well as herself. Not a day went by that she didn’t look over her shoulder in case William was crazy enough to kill her anyway.

  “You must never tell anyone this. It will ruin you.”

  “More than I already am?” Kathleen laughed harshly. “Don’t worry, Mother, I’m not going to cause more of a scandal than I already have for daring to stand up for myself. However, I will never go back to William, either. Please don’t ask me to again, and you can tell him as much. If that’s all you came for, I think we’re finished here.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you will go back to him, and now that I know the truth, I don’t blame you.” Sarah touched Kathleen’s cheek as if for the last time, like she knew there was no going back now, either. Too much damage had been done. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry. I wish I could be as strong as you, but I’m not. Please take care of yourself, my darling. I hope you find what you’re looking for out here and be happy, or at least at peace. Goodbye, dear one.”

  That was the last time Kathleen Connor would ever speak to her mother.

  9

  October 1942: Beacon Bay, Maine

  Kathleen watched her mother walk away with a heavy heart, feeling more alone than she ever had. She’d held on to a small grain of hope her family would welcome her back someday. She now knew that wasn’t a possibility unless she took William back, and that was never going to happen. It was hard letting go for good.

  She wished things could be different, but she knew they would never be. She had never felt like she belonged in her own family, but she wasn’t ashamed of who she was. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with the rest of her life, but she somehow knew she was meant for something more. She wrote in her journal every day, hoping to be inspired. Now more than ever she needed to make a plan and move on with her life.

  Opening her mailbox, Kathleen’s lips parted. She was afraid to breathe.

  Another letter.

  She hadn’t thought she would ever hear from Joseph Rutherford again after he knew who she was. Her hands trembled as she pulled out his letter and held it close to her aching chest like a lifeline. He had no idea how much she needed him. She hadn’t even realized it until now. She might be lonely, but she somehow knew she wasn’t alone anymore. That was enough to keep her strong and keep her going through what was sure to be tough times ahead. Taking the letter back out onto her deck, she sat in the wooden rocking chair her father had carved and assembled by hand and slowly opened it.

  * * *

  Dear Kathleen,

  I cannot express my gratitude for you choosing to write me back when I’d needed someone the most. You have no idea how much hearing from home means to me. Your inclusion of the piece of pine from Beacon Bay was so thoughtful. Every time I smell it, I think of Maine, which now makes me think of you. It brings back so many memories of hunting with my father, playing in the woods with my sisters—I have three—when we were young, and inhaling the scent of my mother’s homemade candles during the holidays. I can’t help but anticipate maybe someday meeting you in person.

  I know my family loves me in their own way, but they have a hard time showing it now that I am an adult. I live a life of luxury and ease, taking for granted all I have and admittedly thinking only of myself too often. I went against their wishes and chose not to work in my father’s shipbuilding business, joining the navy to fight for my country instead. I simply wanted to grow up, become a man, and do my part. I’ve had friends who have died when they went abroad to help the allies. I couldn’t live with myself if I stayed home and did nothing.

  You asked how I felt about the war. Even after everything I’ve been through, I still believe the United States needed to get involved. Hitler and his Axis can’t be allowed to keep doing the deplorable things he’s done. I wasn’t prepared when the war landed on my doorstep. I might forever be ruined because of my decision, but at least I will go to my grave with no regrets.

  I don’t know Beverly Sanderson but I know of her, and she comes from the same cloth as my parents, caring more about social standards than what’s right or wrong. I will give her a chance to get to know me because it’s the right thing to do, but th
at doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends. I hope you don’t mind my being frank, but I need you. Not in a physical way, but a spiritual way. You seem to understand me like no one else ever has, and your encouragement for me to keep going is inspiring, especially after everything you have been through.

  Your words touched me deeply, and I wept for you. You are an amazing woman. So strong and independent. I know most people don’t appreciate that. At one time I wouldn’t have either, but after what I’ve seen and been through, I now realize how naïve and shallow I once was. The value of passion, honesty and the right to speak one’s mind is invaluable.

  Life is too goddamned short!

  Pardon my language, but I feel as though I have known you since forever, and you will forgive me for the outburst. I don’t even know what you look like, but you have a beautiful spirit. Don’t let anyone try to stifle that or hold you back. You can and should do anything you want to. This is me encouraging you to keep going. Don’t let them win. I know it’s hard when it seems like the whole world is against you, but you are special. You have so much to offer. Please hold on to that and follow your dreams, whatever they may be.

  I’m not due to come home for leave until next summer and not for good until the summer of 1945. There was a time I wondered if I would be able to make it until then, but you gave me the will to try. Only you. I will owe you a debt of gratitude for the rest of my life. You are a gift in my life, and I shall never take you for granted. I don’t know what the future will bring with Beverly. I did send another letter to her at the correct address this time. We will see if she writes me back. I hope you are safe and well. If I see your husband upon my return, I honestly don’t know what I will do to him for the harm he has caused you.

  Be careful, my friend. Enjoy every day as if it were your last, and whatever you do, please don’t stop writing to me.