Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

  The morning swiftly passed. After lunch, she walked to the village. It was hot and dusty, but Mary-Kate didn't notice today; thoughts raced in her mind. She hoped it would work.

  The activity in the area was bustling. The pickup trucks continued to roll in, loaded with freshly picked fruit. Mary-Kate gave a wide birth to the trucks, not wanting a repeat of her last visit. She searched among the workingmen, looking for Dane. He'd be easy to spot; he was the tallest of the men, stood out from the others. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. Would he like her idea, go along with her? Or scoff at it, seeing it as only another ploy to gain his attention?

  She was disappointed when she didn't see him.

  "Hi, Mary-Kate." She smiled in recognition at Mike. He'd know where Dane was. "Here to work today?"

  She walked over to him. "Don't think Dane wants me to; I've asked. No surfing today?"

  "Might take off early if the wind picks up again."

  "I'm looking for Dane."

  "Not here."

  One of the trucks pulled out, its engine loud. When it passed, Mike grinned, and nodded to the north. "Might be near the point—Halikia Point—north end of the island."

  Mary-Kate was still disappointed, but not deterred. "How about Lisa; is she around?"

  "Sure." He walked to the large open doors of the plant, and pointed Lisa out. "Second row, facing us."

  Mary-Kate saw her, and threaded her way through boxes and people, wondering if she could speak with her for a few minutes about her idea.

  Lisa looked up and smiled. "Hi; want to pack some pineapple?"

  "Not today, thanks. Actually I have another idea. When you can take a break, I'd like to hear what you think about it."

  "Give me ten minutes," Lisa said, glancing at the clock.

  Mary-Kate watched the women deftly stack the sliced pineapple, their rings even in depth. The conveyor belts deposited them at the end, where another team placed them in cans. Sending the cans through a machine to where men stacked them in racks tops already on, labels ready for placing. The air was saturated with pineapple, its sweet scent causing Mary-Kate's mouth to water. She wished she could take one of them as they came through and eat it while she waited.

  At last, Lisa threw down her knife and stood up, stretching before turning to Mary-Kate. "Let's get some fresh air. I get so sick of pineapple."

  When they were settled on the porch of Lisa's small cottage, which was only a short walk from the production line, Mary-Kate broached the subject of her morning's work.

  "I'd like to offer a day camp for the kids for as long as I'm here. I'd have organized activities, teach a little, and take them off their mothers' hands. Let the women work more hours at the plant, if that's what they want. Or just relax for a few hours without the children under foot."

  "I think it would be grand,” Lisa said. “There's never been anything like that here. What a great idea. There's a wide assortment of ages, though," Lisa warned.

  "I thought of that. But for summer activities, I don't think it would matter. The older kids can help with the younger ones. We can all enjoy some of the same things, like swimming at the beach, or collecting shells. They could make gifts for people with the shells. Dane's got a ton of books about the islands, the flowers, and other plants. We could have lessons that the kids wouldn't even know were lessons."

  "Sounds great. Do you want to talk it over with Joyce and Mary? They were talking about something like that last night—wishing we had a bigger community that could sponsor some activities for kids."

  "That's what gave me the idea. I wish I could do it until school starts, but I have to leave when the supply boat arrives. But that's still be a couple of weeks away, and it'll be something new and different for the kids."

  Lisa took Mary-Kate back to the production line, introducing her to those mothers she hadn't met yesterday, and letting her propose her summer camp. The mothers were delighted with the idea. It would give them extra time to work, or even have an hour or two on their own during the morning. Mary-Kate suggested fee was low. But with enough children, it would give her enough money to get to one of the other islands until her family could send her money.

  She was keyed up and excited, spending the entire afternoon doing plans for the next day. She wanted to tell Dane, share her idea with him, and get his approval, but he hadn't returned by the time she went to bed.

  Mary-Kate arose early the next morning, excited about her first day with the children. She ate a hasty breakfast, and headed for the village, in one hand a sheaf of papers with the games and plans she'd made, in the other, her lunch.

  Overhead a small blue and white plane droned. Mary-Kate looked up; was it the same one as yesterday? Was this a new route on some sightseeing itinerary? If it was passing regularly, maybe she could devise some signal, some way to notify the pilot that she needed to contact people on the mainland.

  With a pang, Mary-Kate dropped her eyes. She was torn. She knew she had to leave, and before long. Yet she didn't want to say goodbye. Not just yet. She'd never have a reason to come this way again. When she left, it would be forever. Sighing softly, she knew she'd never send a message to the pilot; she'd stay until the supply boat arrived. Time enough then to say goodbye.

  The day passed swiftly. The children were eager and excited about the plans she'd made. Enthusiastically they joined in the projects she outlined, and Mary-Kate found that the day flew by.

  As she trudged back to the house in the late afternoon, tired, but happy, she planned what she'd do tomorrow. A quiet glow of pride pervaded; it had gone well. The children were well behaved and pleasant to be around. The activities she'd planned had pleased them, and both she and the children had been disappointed when the day had come to an end.

  They were smart, too. She'd have to work hard to stay ahead of them, keep their interest and attention and their enthusiasm. But she loved the challenge. It was different from high school algebra, but just as rewarding.

  Mary-Kate wandered out to the lanai after she'd showered and changed for dinner. Dane was sitting on one of the chairs, a large pitcher of pineapple juice and two glasses beside him. She smiled, happiness swelling within. She was anxious to share the news of her new job, hoping he'd be pleased she had found something to do.

  "If one of those glasses is for me, I'll not say no," she said as she sat down in the chair near him.

  He poured the fresh juice into the glasses, and lightly touched his rim to hers.

  "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," he commented as he took a sip.

  "I am." She tossed her head proudly and beamed at him. "I got a job."

  He sat up, startled, his eyes narrowed. "Where, doing what?"

  "Here on the island, running a summer camp for the children."

  He watched her for a few moments, and then a sardonic smile settled on his features. Leaning back, he raised his glass to her again. "Clever. Very clever."

  A little of her happiness dimmed. Her smile faded. He didn't like the idea.

  "Show us all how indispensable you are, and we'll keep you forever," he murmured sarcastically.

  "Oh, shut up! I was bored. You work all day, everyone else on this island works all day. But there's nothing for me to do. I can only read so much. I can't stare off into space for hours on end. Could you? At the barbecue the other night, several mothers were talking about the problem of no schools and no summer activities for kids. I came up with a plan that helps everyone out, and gets me some money so that when I leave I can pay my way."

  "I would arrange that."

  "I don't need you to do that," she said. The last thing she wanted was for him to continue his belief she was just here for the money—any money.

  "A good ploy, but you'll grow tired of it soon. Reality is far different from pipe dreams." He looked out across the ocean, his lips tight, his eyes narrowed.

  Mary-Kate looked closely at him. Was he angry? Or thinking of the teachers he'd hired who hadn't stayed.


  "I think it's a great idea, and I've already spent the day with the kids. It's working out fine."

  "But it won't last," he said flatly. "I know women; they want what money can get them, that's all. Look at my mother; she's on her fifth husband. Always wanting more money, wanting to do more. She's doing Europe again. Not satisfied with the life my father could have given her; no, she wants to be off, jetting around, spending money, having a good time." His voice was bitter.

  "Dane..."

  "Melissa, the same way. She found out how much money I make and immediately wanted to install a manager to watch the business and take off for San Francisco. We could stop back here from time to time to make sure everything was running smoothly, she graciously consented."

  He sat up, carefully placing his glass on the table, his eyes boring into Mary-Kate's. "Who are you really, Mary-Kate O'Donnell? Why are you here to disrupt my life? To show me what's missing, what I'll never have?" His eyes glinted in the late sun.

  "I'm not disrupting anyone's life! I was stranded here—ditched, dumped, deserted. I'm stuck here until I can get off. I'm trying to make the most of a bad situation. This makes everything fine. I can enjoy the island, and yet have some purpose. And not be an imposition on you. I'm not your mother or Melissa."

  "You seem content with the life of the islands, but how soon before you long for the excitement of the city, the variety of the stores, long for plays and nightclubs and parties?" His hands gripped the arms of her chair.

  "You have me confused with the other women you hang out with!" Mary-Kate leaned forward, her face only inches from Dane's. "I like a good time, but I wouldn't miss nightclubs—I never go to them in Iowa. Shopping is fine, but once in a while is plenty. Friends are important to me, and I like staying home and visiting."

  "It's easy to say now, but how would you feel after several weeks here, or several months?"

  "I won't be here that long, remember? I'm leaving on the supply boat when it comes at the end of the month."

  She wished it weren't so, but better that it was. She needed to get away, while she still could. And it was obvious he wanted her gone.

  "I remember! And it can't come too soon!" His words were harsh.

  Nora came to the door. "Dinner's ready; you want to eat out there?"

  "No, we'll come in." Dane shoved back his chair, and turned for the house, pausing at the door, waiting with unconcealed impatience for Mary-Kate to precede him.

  "Heard about your summer camp, missy," Nora said as she dished up the broiled Mahi-Mahi she'd prepared. "Those kids seemed to be having fun today."

  Mary-Kate smiled up at the older woman, glad that someone liked her idea. "They sure did. And they'll continue to do so!" She threw a challenging look at Dane.

  "So tell me all you did today," he invited, a cynical look in his eyes.

  Mary-Kate refused to be daunted by his look. She launched into the time they'd spent at the beach, the knowledge she'd shared about shells with the children, and some of the facts the older ones had shared with her. Then she spoke about the craft projects she was planning, the games they played.

  Dane spoke little during dinner, his eyes watching Mary-Kate as she explained each detail of her plans, and regaled him with each minute of her day. From time to time genuine amusement touched his eyes, but generally he watched her through a skeptical gaze.

  "And so after that I thought we'd look for wildflowers and categorize them," she finished. Despite his daunting look, her enthusiasm spilled out.

  "Where are you planning to find these flowers?"

  "Wherever they grow—by the beach, most likely; you seem to have the rest of the island cultivated. But I need to look at one of your books on flora before then."

  "Be my guest."

  When dinner was finished, Mary-Kate hurried to the study to select the books she wanted. Dane had several good ones on plants and flowers, and she was sure she could study enough to recognize any she might see on their upcoming nature hike.

  Dane joined her in the study, Mary-Kate looked up. His eyes bore down on her; he ignored the work at his desk. She flushed, conscious of his comment earlier about her disturbing him. Not wanting to give rise to such a comment again, she rose, books in hand.

  "I'll just read in the other room. I can concentrate better if someone isn't staring at me all the time."

  He smiled mockingly, but said nothing.

  Mary-Kate sat on the floor before the couch, spreading the books around her, opened to pages of the plants indigenous to the South Pacific islands, looking for any she'd seen since arriving on Manahakaloi. She took notes, studied drawings and pictures, and memorized facts about each of the different flowers.

  Maybe tomorrow, before dinner, she'd walk around a little, and see if she could locate any of the flowers, so that she'd know where to take the children.

  "You going to sit here all night?" Dane asked from the doorway.

  Mary-Kate blinked and looked up at him. Slowly her mind left the plant world and focused in on him.

  "Is it late?"

  "After eleven."

  She rubbed her hands across her face; her eyes were dry and gritty.

  "I was getting tired, but didn't realize it was so late." She tried to rise, but her foot gave way under her, asleep.

  "Ouch!" she exclaimed as she sat down hard. "My foot's gone to sleep. Blast it!"

  Dane moved in and reached down to pull her up, holding her steady as the foot in question began its agonizing awakening process.

  "How long is this little act going to go on?" he said softly in her ear.

  She jerked back, stumbling and sitting hard on the arm of the couch. "What little act? My foot did fall asleep!" It was tingling now, alive with a thousand hot needles, all pricking her. She shook it to hasten the process.

  "I meant the dedicated teacher bit. You want to run a one-room schoolhouse this autumn?"

  "I'm leaving, remember? This summer camp idea is just temporary, to help out."

  "Help out who?"

  "The mothers who want some extra money and me."

  "I'll pay for your passage." He stood too near, threateningly near.

  "I'll pay my own way, thank you anyway. Now I'm tired, and I'm going to bed."

  She stood, and almost sat back down. Dane towered over her, not a foot away, and he wasn't moving. Mary-Kate faced him defiantly; reluctant to push her way by him, afraid of what would happen if she touched him, if he touched her.

  He did not make it difficult for her, however; he stepped aside, his eyes never leaving her.

  "Good night," she mumbled as she walked with dignity to her room, wishing he'd kissed her again, and annoyed with herself for the thought.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Breakfast was a strain the next morning. Dane had stacks of papers before him, and barely glanced at Mary-Kate when she entered. She ate her rolls quietly, not wanting to start the day off on the wrong foot. She had plenty to think about with the summer camp; she wouldn't worry about his attitude.

  "When are you going?" Dane asked as she gazed out of the window, lost in thought of plans for arts and crafts.

  "Going?" She blinked at him, struck again by his strong good looks, even when his eyes were bleak and his emotions held in tight check as they were now.

  "To the village. I'm driving down in a few minutes. If you're ready, you can go with me."

  "Thanks. I thought I'd have to walk again." She smiled at him, but he did not return the gesture. Only turned back to his papers, gathering them into a large stack.

  As they drove the short distance to the village, Mary-Kate couldn't help but think of what might have been. If she stayed, they could drive together each day, he to his job, she to hers. At night they could discuss what they'd done during the day. Sometimes it might be fun to walk the way, and so have longer to talk, to discuss things while enjoying the pleasures of the warm evenings on the island.

  How dumb was that, she thought. If she lived here, she wouldn't be staying
with Dane. She'd get a place of her own. He was offering temporary lodging just until the supply ship arrived, not offering permanent lodging for however long she stayed.

  Dane didn't speak when they reached the village. Mary-Kate said a quiet, "Bye for now," before heading for the tables they'd used for the barbecue, already set up for the summer camp.

  The day flew by. She loved working with the children. There were eighteen in all, from age three to thirteen. It was a challenge to keep them all occupied, but she managed and felt triumphant at the end of the day when all the kids clamored for it to be tomorrow.

  "It looks like it's due to storm bad late tonight or early tomorrow," Joyce said as she picked up little Joy in the afternoon. "If so it's bad don't come down tomorrow. We'll keep the kids inside. Next day should be okay."

  "If it rains, I'll stay home." Mary-Kate knew there was no place for the group of children if they couldn't have their meetings outside. They used a couple of tables and benches from the barbecue for worktables, but it had become increasingly difficult during the afternoon to keep things on them. The breeze from the west was steadily rising. Puffs of wind had blown off the drawings, scattered the light shells they'd cleaned, and whipped hair before eyes trying to see to color.

  Mary-Kate glanced around the area one last time, looking for anything that had sailed away. All things had been secured for the night. She waved at the last of her little charges, and started off for the big white house. She didn't see the jeep and dare not wait around in the hope that Dane would come to pick her up.

  It was late afternoon; dinner wouldn't be for a couple of hours. Maybe she'd scout around a little and see if she could find the wildflowers she wanted to locate for their nature trip. If it rained tomorrow, she'd take the children on the outing the following day. The rain should make the flowers all the more vibrant.

  It was pleasant to walk in the strong breeze. The intense heat normally felt, even this late in the afternoon, was missing. The air was actually cool. Large gray clouds that had been building in the west all day now obliterated the sun. The sky was gray clear to the horizon, but a light silvery gray. It didn't look as if rain was imminent.