by Dani Pettrey
“Yeah, he was great.” His message from Romans eight had really spoken to her heart. “He’s not local, is he?”
“Nope. Moved down from Fairbanks maybe five, six years back.” Cole pulled two bottles of cranberry juice from his backpack and offered her one.
“Thanks. Pretzels make me thirsty.”
He took a gulp, then set the juice on the tray in front of him. “Did you like the music? I know it’s not for everyone, a teen worship band and all.”
“They did a really good job, and it was nice seeing young people so involved.”
“They’re a great bunch of kids with great hearts for God.”
“That’s what matters. We’ve got a pretty hip worship band at the church I attend in Oregon.”
“That’s cool. You like your church?”
“I do.”
“Been there long?”
She smiled at his attempt at subtlety. “Close to six years. I’ve been a Christian for nine. How about you?” She didn’t recall him attending church when they were in high school, but then again, she’d gone out of her way to avoid anything having to do with church or authority back then.
“Not long after I came home from college. At first it was simply because my mom asked me to go, to set an example for my brothers and sisters. But after a while something happened. . . . I started to see the truth. . . .”
Just as she had. It had been amazing—like a light going on for the first time, illuminating the darkness.
“And I thirsted for it, you know?” He angled to face her better.
She nodded. She did know.
“What about you? What led you to church?” There was no hint of condemnation in his voice, only genuine curiosity.
It was too painful to talk about the ugliness, the brokenness, the depth of despair she’d sunken to before she was saved, but she supposed she could talk about that first step. “Someone invited me to a dorm Bible study.” She wasn’t exaggerating when she said, “It saved my life.” She’d met Christ that night.
“It’s why I work with teens at Grace. There is so much in this world trying to pull them down. They desperately need Christ. We all do. And they need to know how much He loves them.”
She bit her quivering lip, struggling to quell the raw emotion surging through her. How she wished someone had reached out to her or that she’d listened when Agnes had tried. So much heartache she could have avoided, so much pain spared for her and everyone close to her.
15
Dutch Harbor’s rugged beauty radiated awe in Bailey. The massive ocean surrounding the tiny island, the blue sky—larger than life, the spray of the sea, and the vibrant mass of purple fireweed blooming along the shore made it seem a wonderland. “It’s breathtaking.”
Cole sighed. “No place like it on earth.”
“Spoken like a true Alaskan.”
He winked, and her traitorous heart fluttered. There’d been a time, a glorious summer, when she’d pushed past the pain of being abandoned by her parents, when her friendship with Cole was flourishing so that she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. But that’d been before . . .
“Hammer man,” a guy called.
Bailey turned, and Cole waved at the young man striding toward them. Tall, curly blond hair, deep blue eyes.
“How you doing, Pete?” Cole clasped his hand.
“Can’t complain. Got air in my lungs, waves to ride. What brings you to my neck of the woods?” His enthusiastic gaze shifted to Bailey and he smiled. “And more importantly, who is this?”
Cole turned to her and smiled. “Bailey, this is Pete Baker. And, Pete, this is Bailey Craig. An old friend of mine.”
Friend? How could he still view her as a friend after what she’d done?
Pete extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Bailey.” His eyes shone full of youth and optimism.
“You too.”
Cole slid on his shades. “We need to procure a ride over to Isux.”
“No problem. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure, man?”
“Absolutely.”
Pete led them down the dock to a small vestibule with a sign boasting Best Whale Tours in Alaska. He reached in the shed and flipped the sign to Closed, then scribbled, Back in a few. Off to Isux on the chalkboard underneath.
“We’re not pulling you away from something?” Bailey asked.
“Nothing that can’t wait.” Pete smiled. His boat, Pierless, sat moored at the end of the pier. He held out a hand, helping Bailey aboard.
It didn’t take long to get under way.
“I dove Big Ben last weekend,” Pete said as they cast off.
“And?” Cole asked, settling down beside Bailey, waves lashing against the stern in their wake.
“You were right. It was incredible.”
“You ought to try Skimmer’s Reef.”
Pete glanced back from the wheel. “As good of a rush?”
“Even better.”
“Cool.”
Bailey smiled at the enthusiasm bubbling inside them; they were overflowing with a zest for life.
Somewhere along the way she’d lost that—taking time to enjoy the world around her, to be carefree and a kid at heart. She’d stopped being a kid the day her mom dropped her on Agnes’s doorstep. In truth, probably long before that.
“I keep hearing about some spot in your area called Blue Paradise,” Pete said. “Ever hear of it?”
“Yeah.” Cole shifted to face her, the sun glinting off his shades.
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, thankful she couldn’t see his eyes, fearful of what she might find there. Blue Paradise had been their spot. It was where he’d taught her how to dive. They’d spent practically every day that summer beneath the water’s surface, the two of them in their own little world amongst the colorful coral. How could something that had brought her so much pleasure, now resonate inside her with so much pain?
“Is it any good?” Pete asked.
“Yeah.” Cole looked down. “It’s great.”
“How come you held out on me? Trying to keep it for yourself?” Pete chuckled.
Cole swallowed. “I don’t dive there anymore.”
The heaviness of his words only compounded the weight bearing down on Bailey.
Pete seemed to pick up on the nerve he was hitting and subtly redirected his attention to the sea.
Cole nudged Bailey’s foot with his. The touch, though short and completely innocent, sent shock waves through her. “You still dive?”
“I do.” She swallowed, fighting the urge to reach back out to him, to feel his skin against hers, however briefly.
“So you’ve kept up with it?”
“Yeah, I love it. Particularly wreck diving.”
“That’s cool. Maybe we can go again sometime.”
“Maybe.” It was a nice thought, but in truth she couldn’t bear it—sharing something that had been so special to them, so intimate. Besides, all of her time needed to be spent on readying the shop for sale. Today was for the murdered girl. Tomorrow it was back to work.
A half hour later, they disembarked on Isux’s shore.
“Thanks for the lift.” Cole tossed the rope to Pete.
Pete wound it around his muscular forearm. “No problem. When do you want to make the return trip?”
Cole looked to Bailey.
She shrugged. “A few hours?”
Pete smiled. “Good enough.”
“Are you sure? We don’t want to keep you.” She didn’t want to ruin his entire day’s income.
“No problem.” He pushed off, water rippling in his wake. “You kids behave, now.” He winked, his eyes alight with merriment.
“Interesting friend,” she said as Pete faded into the horizon.
Cole slid his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, Pete’s a great guy. A blast to dive with, which is pretty cool considering he used to be terrified of water.”
“That guy?” Bailey jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “You�
��re kidding.”
“Nope.” Cole kicked a pebble onto his foot, playing with it as a soccer player would a ball. “We got him over his fear.”
“How’d you accomplish that?” Pete seemed more at home on the water than anybody she’d ever seen. It was hard to wrap her mind around him being the least bit afraid of it.
“Pete came into the shop. Said he was determined to conquer his fear. Said it was ridiculous to live scared of water when he was surrounded by it, so we worked with him, took it real slow. Started with basic swimming lessons, then diving, then surfing . . . You get the picture.”
“That’s really cool.” She always admired those who could tackle their fears head-on. She’d always found it easier to run.
“His wife’s really nice too.” Cole kicked the pebble up and caught it on his forearm like a hacky sack, bouncing it along the well-sculpted muscle.
She missed being wrapped in those strong arms. She shook off the thought, forcing her gaze from Cole’s physique to the dwellings dotting the craggy landscape, and led the way toward Elma’s cottage.
“Too bad Nicky wasn’t around today. You’d like her.”
“Pete’s married. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Yep. Two kids.”
“You’re kidding? He looks so . . .”
Cole arched a brow.
She shrugged. “He just doesn’t look the marrying type.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know. More settled.”
“Just because he dresses surfer style doesn’t mean he’s not settled. Sure he and Nicky live an island lifestyle, but they are very happy, very committed. They adore their kids. They’re totally involved in their church.” He tsked playfully. “You should never judge a book by its cover.”
She grimaced. Or its past.
“Wildheart.” Elma ran toward them, her arms open wide, her dark hair dancing on the breeze. She looked wonderful—same rosy cheeks, same contagious smile.
Cole arched an amused brow. “Wildheart?”
“Leave it,” she said, just as Elma engulfed her.
Elma stepped back, examining her. “Look at you, my little Wildheart—all grown up. So beautiful, no?” She set her dark eyes on Cole.
“Extremely.”
A rush of heat swarmed Bailey’s cheeks, and she prayed it didn’t show, but if Cole’s grin was any indicator, she was blushing up a storm.
“Are you back visiting Agnes?” She looked over Bailey’s shoulder, then frowned. “She didn’t want to make the trip?”
Bailey’s heart sank. Elma hadn’t heard. That’s why she wasn’t at the funeral. She should have sent word instead of assuming Gus had, especially with the suddenness of it all. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Elma wiped her tears. “I just saw her.”
Bailey inched closer, offering Elma a tissue. “You did?”
“She came, not long ago.” Elma blew her nose in the tissue, then clutched it tight. “Maybe a month or so back. She was working on some research.”
“What kind of research?”
“About Amgux.”
16
Bailey slumped against the sofa, bewildered. Elma’s story was the stuff of legends, surely not truth. “You’re saying an entire island sank into the sea?”
“Swallowed whole. But don’t take only my word for it.” Elma rose and lumbered to the antique corner cabinet, retrieving a leather-bound book from inside. “Here’s the firsthand account.” She flipped to the page and proceeded to read.
“The day’s work on Pavel’s roof complete, I boarded my boat for the journey home, a bundle of your grandmother’s pirozhki tucked safely inside.”
Bailey paused, looking to Elma for clarification. “My great-great-grandmother was Russian. She and her husband lived on Chirikof Island, and her parents lived at the St. Stephen settlement on Amgux Island. Her husband, my great-great-grandpapi, who was Aleut, had gone to help repair her parents’ roof after a strong storm.”
Elma turned back to the worn pages.
“I wasn’t far out when the sea gurgled. At first I feared a whale was surfacing beneath me, but it was far more terrible. Like the ancient Leviathan rising from the depths to seek revenge with fire and flames, the sea split and the earth shook.
“The waters rose, tossing me into the churning depths. I watched in utter helplessness as the sea swallowed Amgux whole.
“By God’s grace I survived that day. Your mother’s kin did not.
“These are the tales of Amgux and your mother’s kin before the sea consumed them.
“May these words preserve their memory so they are never forgotten.”
“And the photograph we showed you, of the icon?”
Elma reverently turned the yellowed parchment. “Here.”
Bailey’s eyes widened at the perfect drawing of the image from the cell phone, but with details that indicated the cell-phone picture was only a portion of a larger picture. The young child with golden locks wasn’t alone. A dignified woman sat beside him—mirroring his grace and radiance. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know. Even my great-great-grandmother didn’t know, but she knew it had hung in the church of her settlement. All their greatest possessions from the homeland were kept there.”
Bailey studied the image—the elegant lines, the soft shading. “Your great-great-grandmother drew this?”
Elma nodded.
“She was quite the artist.”
“Oh yes.” Elma stood. “Come.”
Bailey followed Elma down the back hall of the tiny home, Cole close behind them.
“These are hers.” Elma proudly gestured at the paintings blanketing the walls of the small reading room.
“I’d forgotten all about these.” Bailey moved to examine one of the landscapes up close. “I wish I had a fraction of her talent. My drawings all come out looking like potato people.”
Cole chuckled. “Mine too. I think I hit my artistic peak in kindergarten.”
Elma wrapped her arm around Bailey’s waist. “Oh, child, think how boring this world would be if we all had the same gifts. Only beautiful pictures to look at—no music or literature or exquisite desserts.”
“Like pryaniki?” Bailey asked hopefully.
Elma winked and shuffled from the room, a smile on her lips. A few minutes later, she returned with a plate of pryaniki.
The soothing scents of vanilla and nutmeg filled the air as Bailey bit into the sweet Russian gingerbread treat. “Ah, I’d forgotten how amazing these are.”
“You like?” Elma asked Cole, her eyes alight with satisfaction.
“It’s phenomenal.” Icing blanketed his lips.
Bailey laughed, hard. Something she hadn’t done in years, and it felt wonderful.
Maybe coming back to Yancey wasn’t going to turn out to be as horrific as she’d imagined.
Their return flight was nearly empty, giving them a high level of privacy.
Cole dropped an empty water bottle in his pack, then spread the map across the seat-back tray. “You know, it’s not that farfetched. Amgux must have sat somewhere in here.” He circled an area off the northern coast of Chirikof Island. “With the amount of earthquakes recorded each year, it’s not unreasonable to think one was strong enough to swallow the island whole.”
“So the island sank and the church with it,” Bailey said, her mind still swirling with the possibility. “And Liz and our elusive mystery man must have found it.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“It’s hard to even wrap my mind around the prospect of an island sinking with its church intact.” She sank back against her seat.
He smiled. “Stranger things have happened.”
She arched a brow. “Such as?”
“A buddy of mine just got back from exploring submerged Mayan ruins in Guatemala—a series of ceremonial temples at the bottom of a volcanic lake. And I took part in a dive in Alexandr
ia, Egypt, earlier this year, where we explored the ruins of a palace and temple complex, a good portion of it still intact.”
“You were in Egypt?” His life was the stuff her dreams were made of.
“I’ve been fortunate. Diving has taken me all over the world.”
“How exciting.” She wished she were more adventurous, but she feared she’d lose sight of the line between adventurous and reckless. She’d been reckless once and would never return to that. Being adventurous, it made her feel free . . . happy—and that was something she didn’t deserve. She felt Cole’s stare on her, and she cleared her throat. “It’s nice you are able to do something you love for a living.”
“It’s not the path I planned, but God had something better in mind.”
“You mean the skiing?” She’d always wondered why she hadn’t heard his name on the news, hadn’t seen him on magazine covers. He’d been one of the best downhill skiers around—breaking records every year.
“Yeah, I had planned to compete professionally.”
“So what changed your mind?”
Cole lifted his leg and ran his hand along the crescent-shaped scar that outlined his knee and trailed up his thigh.
“What happened?”
“I took a bad fall. Pretty much ended my career.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was for the best. I didn’t see it at the time, but looking back, I see God’s hand in it all.”
She shifted toward him. “How so?”
“A week into my recovery Dad died. I was needed at home. Even more so after Mom passed.”
“That must have been hard.” Bailey fought the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him.
“It wasn’t easy at first, but then we fell into a rhythm. I look at my injury as a blessing—it took away the choice. I didn’t have to choose between my career and my family.”
“And you never went back? I mean, after all your siblings were grown?”
“To competing, no. My skiing days are done, and I’m good with that. Diving has my heart.”
She remembered when she could make that claim.
“I did go back to school, though—finished through University of Alaska’s distance program. I got my degree in Human Resources, which has served me well.”