by Kaira Rouda
She wondered again how something so horrible could happen in such a beautiful place. Much like her father’s murder—murdered in his own garden next to his child—there was no reason for it. But hopefully, unlike his unsolved case, they could find the person responsible for killing the poor woman on the beach.
After checking in with the Kids Club again, and finding nobody there, as expected, Dorsey made her way back to the beach, nodding and smiling to investigators along the way. With the air cooler than it had been for weeks, the walk along the edge of the sound actually was pleasant. A mild breeze blew across the water from Hilton Head, carrying the jarring sound of the Jet Skis circling the waters of that beach, piercing the quiet peace of her walk. She wondered if Indigo Island would ever suffer the fate of Jet Skis and what they represented—too much construction, too many people. She realized that she now preferred it here in this remote and dangerous place. Hilton Head seemed too crowded, too busy, too chaotic. Indigo Island seemed suddenly just right. She smiled at her own realization and knew she also owed a lot of her happiness here to Jack.
Just thinking about him made her heart beat faster and her stomach flip. Their night together was everything she had ever dreamed of. Making love with Jack was not like anything she’d ever experienced and she hoped she’d experience it again, soon. She scanned the pool area, but didn’t see him. She knew the pool staff had a meeting every morning. She’d catch up with him on her way back. She was on a mission.
Just past the plantation’s boundaries, she turned northeast to follow the creek inland to the other side of the island. She imagined looking for Tade, remembering how long she had wandered this creek bed before he appeared on the shore above her. Dorsey rubbed the oogle for luck and kept walking, sensing that somehow she’d arrive at the right place.
She smelled something wonderful cooking—cornbread or biscuits maybe? Looking in the direction of the tempting aroma, she spotted Barbara’s tin-roofed shack. At least she hoped she was in the right place.
Dorsey climbed out of the creek bed, up the small slope to her front yard, and up the three steps to her porch. Her hand shook as she reached out and knocked on the light blue door. “Hello? Miss Barbara? It’s Dorsey, Tade’s friend. May I come in?” Dorsey said loudly enough that she scared a cardinal, who flew away in blood-red terror.
The door slowly opened and Barbara appeared. “My long pot drew you here?” Barbara asked, inviting Dorsey to follow her into her home with a nod of her head.
“Sorry?” Dorsey said, not understanding.
“The good ol’ ’romas. Ya nevah know who gonna drop by,” Barbara said.
“Yes! I smelled your cooking!” she exclaimed, finally picking up on the words she was saying. She was speaking English, but the words came together so differently, Dorsey had trouble following. She was, Dorsey realized, speaking the same language as Jim, the bus driver. It was Gullah. Dorsey had given a little talk about it as part of her history walk for vacationers and their kids. It was a mix of African and English the slaves who suffered on this island had created so they could communicate without the masters understanding. A language of survival.
“You’re speaking Gullah! It’s beautiful,” Dorsey said, as Barbara pointed her to a small white wooden chair, one of four surrounding a small wooden table. In the corner, a black pipe stovetop held whatever smelled so divine.
“Gullah? What be dat?” she asked, and before Dorsey could answer, she continued with a smile, sitting down in a chair just like Dorsey’s. “I can speak regular English, too, just need to switch my mind, and it’s old. Takes a bit. Don’t have many comeyahs back here, just my little Tade.”
As Barbara smoothed her weathered red apron, Dorsey smiled and said, “Tade’s a great little boy. He brought me this oogle, and said it was a present from you.”
“Mmmm-hmm,” Barbara said.
“I’ve carried it with me ever since. Thank you. I believe it’s protecting me, and helping sort out my new life over there, at the plantation,” Dorsey said.
“Eber ting ’n de milk ain’ white,” Barbara said, nodding her head slowly, reminding Dorsey of Jim, the bus driver, someone else with the same habit.
“I actually really love it here, love the people here, except Steve, I guess. Do you know him?” she asked. Dorsey felt as if she should sit at the older woman’s feet, and wondered if she had magical powers or if she was just well connected on the island. Dorsey wondered about all she knew, all she had seen in her lifetime. “Times come a changin,’ miss,” Barbara said.
“Who is changing? Me?” Dorsey asked, a chill rising in the back of her neck. “Barbara? Who?” she pleaded, when Barbara didn’t answer. “I found a dead body, a woman, who washed up on shore.”
Barbara folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes twinkled, but she was silent. Standing, she walked over to the pot on the old woodstove, picked up a big metal spoon, and slowly stirred the contents, releasing even more amazing scents. She bent and tossed a piece of wood from the stack into the open belly of the stove, brushed her hands together, and returned to her chair at the table across from Dorsey.
“Chile, keep your oogle with you over deh. Keep your love close, or others will try to break you apart,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Barbara?” Dorsey asked. She seemed to have fallen asleep, napping right there in her little wooden chair. Should I leave her? Dorsey wondered.
“Go along, chile. Keep your eyes on da sand. Beware of de haints,” Barbara said, without opening her eyes.
Dorsey hurried back to the plantation, more scared than ever—but not about being on the backside, where she’d found peace and comfort. More about being on the plantation where the haints were running amok.
As she jogged down the beach, she cut in at the pool area in a blatant attempt to catch a glimpse of Jack lifeguarding. And there he was, tanned and gorgeous, sitting up in the lifeguard chair, the red umbrella tipped to shade him from the intense sun. She couldn’t believe he belonged to her. Keep your love close, Barbara had said.
Dorsey waved as she jogged by and saw Jack’s face light up with his signature smile. She wanted to stop at the pool, to climb up the chair and into his lap but she knew she couldn’t.
“See you tonight,” she yelled, not caring who heard her, and then headed for the inn, not following Barbara’s advice she realized. She needed to keep her love close, keep it secret, that’s what Barbara meant. Geesh.
Dorsey realized it was going to be tough to follow the old woman’s advice. She was so excited about Jack she wanted to scream it from the top floor of the inn.
Chapter 14
Jack
It was an hour before sunset, three days since the dead woman had washed ashore on the beach in front of the inn. Jack and Dorsey walked hand in hand along the beach, but not the stretch of sand in front of the inn. Dorsey still didn’t want to walk near where the now-identified body of Susan Price, age thirty one, had washed ashore. She’d been a victim of domestic violence, like the sheriff had predicted. Her husband was in custody charged with her murder.
“We shouldn’t be holding hands here,” Dorsey said. “We need to keep our relationship a secret. Barbara told me that this afternoon.”
“You went to the backside, without me?” Jack said, dropping her hand, turning to face her. He couldn’t believe she would go there without him. “You promised you wouldn’t do that.” He stared at her while she dropped her eyes and blushed.
“Ah, I just realized that, well, just now. You were working and it was fine, I just needed someone to talk to, that’s all,” she said, trying to hold his hand again. “Stop being so worried about everything.”
Jack supposed she was right, he realized, as he pulled her into him for a hug. He couldn’t be with Dorsey every minute, even though he wanted to be. For the past two days, when they weren’t working, it seemed like they were together in bed. It had been the best two days of his life. The sex was incredible, more powerful than anything he’d ever exper
ienced. And it was great having someone to come home to after work, to share a laugh and tell stories about his day at the pool. For so long he’d been focused on achieving, keeping himself walled off from true emotion, just having sex for release. But Dorsey was different. Sure, the sex was great but it was so much more. Like the way her face relaxed after they made love, how the sadness in her eyes would disappear, if only for a little while. He liked knowing he could take her pain away, even for a little while.
Dorsey had been the one who wanted him to show her the island, to help her fall in love with it like he had and so he’d decided to take her to the deserted Southern tip.
They’d driven the golf cart to the end of Top Club’s plantation and started their walk again on the beach, heading further south. Jack pointed to a huge home nestled among some live oaks just a bit off the beach. He told Dorsey it belonged to a family from Atlanta named Putnam. She had thought the place was another hotel it was so massive.
“There’s even a helipad,” Jack said. “Someday, we’ll have our own helicopter.” He couldn’t believe he was talking in ‘we’, as in a couple. He looked over in time to see her blush.
“I don’t think I ever want a helicopter,” Dorsey said, leaning into him.
“OK, our own jet then,” he teased, leaning over for a quick kiss that suddenly heated up as they pressed against each other. Jack pulled away. “Hey, sexy, we have to keep our focus on the adventure or we’ll just end up in bed again.”
She laughed, adding to Jack’s arousal. He reminded himself he wanted to show Dorsey a magical dolphin encounter he hoped would be recreated while she was with him. “It’s a dolphin behavior unique to these waters and it was right here,” he said, pointing at the water. “I was looking for the bald eagle, and all of a sudden four dolphins beached themselves a foot away from me, trapping a school of fish on shore between them. Then, just as suddenly, they ate the fish up and wiggled back into the water. Amazing,” Jack said. “I could really learn to love it here, live here forever. I want you to feel that, too.”
They sat on the warm sand, Dorsey leaning against him, nestled between his legs. Jack dropped his chin on her shoulder. She smelled like coconut and lemon and he felt himself growing hard. Focus on the dolphins, he reminded himself. It didn’t help. Jack slipped his hand around her waist, slowly working his way to the waistband of her shorts, unfastening the top button. He slid his hand down inside her shorts. She opened her legs as Jack slid his fingers over her, and she was immediately wet.
She moaned and said, “Ah, Jack,” before squirming and playfully pulling his hand away. “We’re here to see the dolphins.”
“I don’t think they’re showing up tonight,” Jack said, knowing he could give her an orgasm, right here, right now. And she seemed to know it, too. “Relax, and enjoy.”
She relaxed against him, her head on his thigh. With one hand he teased her nipples through her shirt as her breath quickened. She spread her legs open and he played with her, sliding his fingers inside her until he hit the sweet spot that caused her to explode, moaning and then collapsing against him, her forehead glistening in sweat. He kissed her on the cheek as he buttoned her shorts.
“My goodness, Mr. Means,” she said once her breathing had steadied. She squeezed his hand now resting on her hip. Jack smiled, looking down at her, wondering if she was trying to imagine his dream, wondered if she could picture her life here, with him, on this deserted island.
“You know, I finally love this time of evening again, because of you,” she said. “Even when the sky turns the water red, like it’s doing now, it doesn’t scare me. Not anymore, not when we’re together. Well, as long as Steve isn’t around.”
“Forget Steve,”
They were quiet as the sun dropped into the ocean, the final bow to the day. Seagulls soared past them in search of a meal, otherwise, nothing moved.
“When they put that food coloring in our swimming pool, it turned bright red,” she answered, trying to wash the image from her eyes. “It was a warning but my dad didn’t take it seriously, didn’t even report it to the police. When they poisoned our dog, Rufus, he did report it. Not that it changed anything. Sorry, I don’t want to ruin our night.”
“You’re not ruining anything, Dorsey. Tell me whatever you want to, whenever you want to. I’ve never wanted to take care of somebody as much as I do you,” Jack said. Reaching over to grab his backpack, he said, “close your eyes. I brought a surprise.”
He checked to make sure her eyes were shut and popped the champagne cork, scaring several of the egrets from their nests in the tall trees behind them. Dorsey jumped, panicked.
“That sounded like a gun shot,” she said, eyes wide with fear, visibly shaking.
“Oh no, sorry, my fault, just champagne,” Jack said, handing her a glass, noticing how her hand was shaking. “Here’s to us.”
Jack watched as she took a big breath, and seemed to calm down.
“Cheers.”
They sat side-by-side, leaning against a driftwood log, staring at the now almost dark sky. The crashing waves, soothing and menacing with undertows and cross-currents pulling, pushing. Surging. And sometimes calming, polishing, smoothing over.
“Boy, I’m tipsy,” Dorsey said, leaning farther onto Jack after two glasses of bubbly. “You know that rainy night when we talked, really talked? You saved me. I was wallowing in self-pity, really. I needed to move on, let go of the past.”
“I’d like to see you this happy all the time,” Jack said. “I don’t think my dolphin friends are going to make an appearance tonight. Let’s head back to the golf cart. I brought my blanket.”
When they reached the golf cart, Jack ran up and grabbed his signature red blanket and spread it out on the beach. “Pillows and an extra blanket. At least my iPhone playlist still works.”
“You’re too much,” Dorsey said. Then she fell back onto the pillow Jack had placed behind her.
Stars filled the sky and the wind, blowing the palm fronds, added to the tropical clamor of the evening. After starting some romantic music on his iPhone, Jack unfurled another blanket and crawled under it next to her.
Dorsey smelled so good. She had a powerful effect on him. He stared into her green eyes, touched her perfect lips with his finger. It had been a long time since he’d felt comfortable thinking about a future with a woman. This wasn’t a summer fling, he realized. It couldn’t be. Jack carefully, slowly pulled down her shorts and massaged her thighs.
“Jack,” Dorsey moaned, reaching for his erection. He pushed her hand away, wanting to take care of her first. To always take care of her.
Gently, he unbuttoned her blue denim shirt.
“Beautiful, you’re beautiful,” Jack said. After he removed her bra, Jack stopped and smiled. With one hand he traced the shapes of her body, from her shoulders across her perfect breasts, over her stomach, and down each gorgeous thigh. Her skin responded to his touch, her nipples firm, her skin was so soft, so smooth and beautiful in the moonlight.
“Perfect,” he said.
“What are you waiting for?” She was writhing with need, trying to pull him on top of her.
“Not yet,” he answered, and placed his pointer finger on her lips. “Quiet.”
Jack rubbed her bottom lip with his finger, as she moaned, and he slid a finger into her mouth, which she sucked expertly. Jack sat up, straddling Dorsey and reached into the cooler.
“You’re hot,” he said, dripping icy water between her breasts. She shuddered and gasped as he moved the dripping cube down to her belly button.
“Oh, Jack,” she said, “I never want to lose you.”
Jack quickly undressed, but he wasn’t finished playing with her yet. After kissing her deeply on the lips he moved down her body until she felt him between her legs. Using his hands to grip her hips, Jack pulled her sex into his mouth, using his warm slick tongue to bring her to the brink of orgasm. He knew she’d given herself over to him completely, and he wanted her to ha
ve the best night of her life.
Dorsey cried out, writhing and moaning as she climaxed, again, on the beach. Jack moved back up, helping soothe her, kissing her lips and holding her through her shaking. Panting, she begged him to enter her. “Please,” she said, reaching for him, desperate for him.
Jack smiled and reached for the condom, sliding it on quickly. With his eyes staring deep into her beautiful green ones, he clasped her wrists above her head and slid inside her, just a bit and then more and more until he was driving into her with a fury and desire beyond what they’d shared before. As Jack pounded harder, Dorsey wrapped her arms and legs around him. Still inside her, he sat up and pulled her onto his lap, his hands on her small waist pumping her up and down on his member, forcing himself deeper and deeper, as they both came together.
After, spooning under the blanket, spent but content, looking up at the stars, Jack decided that the happiest days of his life were just beginning. And a big part of that future was in his arms. The ocean’s calm waves made the perfect soothing sound and he loved the smell of the salt spray filling the air. He felt like they were the only two people on the island, and that was fine with him.
“I love you, Dorsey,” Jack whispered, surprising himself by speaking the words aloud. He burrowed his face into her wild tangle of hair. It smelled like peaches. He took a deep breath. What would she say?
“I love you, too,” she said, tears welling up before she could stop them. “This night, this all is a dream come true. Can this be real? How can this work?”
“We’ll figure it out, together,” Jack said, hoping they could, knowing Steve was a problem but no longer caring. Everything would be fine, he’d make sure it was.
Jack didn’t know how long they stayed there, but finally, when the beach was completely dark, they packed up. On the ride home, Jack drove the golf cart on the beach instead of on the paved path, surprising the ghost crabs, who jumped out of their holes, one claw raised, to defend themselves from whatever was venturing onto their beach in their time of the evening.