Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

  The scene before her reminded her of Red Cross drills they'd had in Iowa in anticipation of tornadoes. Tables had been set up, benches and cots along the far wall. The machinery and conveyor belts were silent and still. Women were stacking blankets and bandages on one table; others were preparing coffee and sandwiches. Mary-Kate saw Joyce, and hurried over.

  "Can I help?"

  "Sure. Grab a knife, and start on these sandwiches."

  "Have you heard anything?" Mary-Kate asked as she began.

  "Japanese ship missed the warning light somehow, and ran aground. Or maybe the wind is so strong it just blew it ashore. In any event, the ships taking on water and can't pull free. That's all I heard. The sea is running high."

  "Are they in danger of sinking?"

  "Don't know yet. That's what the men are going out to check for."

  Mary-Kate nodded, and set to work making sandwiches. She worried about Dane and what he and his men would be facing. Trying to ignore the adventure stories she'd read all her life, where men risked their lives to save others, she prayed that everyone get back safely.

  When they'd used up the supplies, they covered the sandwiches to keep them fresh. Then the women sat on the benches, talking quietly as they waited. Mary-Kate wished she knew what was happening on the water. Glancing at the others, she knew she shared their deep concern. The men out there were husbands and brothers. Loved no more than she loved Dane.

  Suddenly there was an explosion from the sea.

  "Oh, no!" One of the women jumped up and ran to the door, two or three others closely behind her. In seconds they returned, drenched.

  "Looks like something blew on the ship. I can see a fire there now."

  Mary-Kate rubbed her hands against her dress, trying to still her shakes. She was scared for Dane. Was he all right? She glanced around. Each of these women had a man she loved out there. But each of those men knew they had someone waiting for them. They would not take risks—well, she hoped not. Going out seemed a huge risk to her. But Dane had no one. And he was their leader. He would take risks if he thought it appropriate.

  Please let him get through safely, she prayed.

  The night seemed endless. Before dawn the first of the Japanese sailors reached the processing plant. Some were merely shaken. Others were injured from the explosion or the fire. The men from the island didn't stop. A half hour later another load of sailors arrived.

  Mary-Kate helped with first aid, soothing on burn lotion, lightly covering the burns, cleaning cuts and bandaging where needed. Each time a new group arrived, she searched for Dane. Once she saw Mike.

  "How's Dane?" she called.

  He gave a thumbs-up sign, his eyes searching for Lisa.

  "She's over there, by the coffee," Mary-Kate told him; turning back to the young man she was offering a sandwich to.

  A stormy dawn arrived, dark and wet and slow to show daylight. Gradually the darkness lifted. The rain continued pouring, the wind gusted and swirled. Even to Mary-Kate's eyes, the storm was abating.

  Then she saw him. He looked dog-tired, his shirt torn, soaked, his hair matted against his forehead, his shoulders sagging. Dane helped in another of the Japanese crew, and waited until he was lying down before moving.

  Mary-Kate grabbed a cup of coffee for him and hurried over. His eyes were dull with fatigue, and he merely nodded and reached for the cup. She watched him anxiously, longing to touch him, to comfort him, to ask him to rest a moment. But she had no right to do so. And she didn't need a set down here, before all the other people.

  "Are you almost finished?" she asked.

  "We can only take a few off at a time. The launch is small. The skipper of the ship won't leave. I think it's safe now, but it burned a bit. The tide's going out, so he should be stuck good and tight until later. Mike's taking the launch now. I needed a rest—almost crashed it on the last go round."

  "Dane, help!" Joyce ran into the doorway, frantically looking for Dane.

  He hurried over, Mary-Kate at his heels. "What is it?"

  "Lisa—she went home for some more coffee and fell. I think she's hurt bad. Come quickly."

  Dane and Mary-Kate followed Joyce across the muddy yard. Palm fronds broken from the strong winds had crashed to the ground. Mary-Kate dodged two as she hurried after them.

  Lisa was lying on the stairs to her house, her face streaked with rain and mud. She was clutching her swollen abdomen.

  "Easy, Lisa; what happened, where do you hurt?" Dane knelt beside her, Mary-Kate and Joyce on the other side.

  "I hit the baby when I fell. What if I killed my baby?" She was almost hysterical, crying and rocking back in forth her arms around her belly.

  "The baby's most likely not injured," Mary-Kate said practically. "Babies float in a sac designed for just such accidents." She reached down and took Lisa's hand. "Don't worry, your baby will be fine."

  "I think I'm having contractions," Lisa mumbled, gripping Mary-Kate's hand. "Could I have started them by the fall?"

  "Possibly. Is there a doctor on the island?”

  Lisa shook her head. “I was going to Honolulu a month before the baby is due. I was going to have him there. Ohhhh,” she almost screamed as she doubled over.

  “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly,” Mary-Kate's voice was calm, but the look she cast Dane was not. She didn't know that much about babies, only what she'd picked up from her sisters when they'd had theirs. It could be dangerous for Lisa to have her baby two months early. Without any medical care, what if the infant needed extra help. Where would they get it in such a storm?

  "I'll take her to the plant. We'll call for an air ambulance. They'll airlift her out with the injured crewmen," Dane decided.

  Mary-Kate hurried ahead to prepare a cot for Lisa, while Dane carried her to the processing plant. Mary-Kate and Joyce made her comfortable as possible once there.

  "You'll be okay, Lisa, just hang in there," Mary-Kate said softly, kneeling down beside her new friend.

  “I'm so scared. What if I hurt the baby?” Lisa moaned, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  Hours passed and the activity continued. Fewer and fewer injured were brought in. Dane left again, but Mike didn't appear. Then the first of the helicopters sounded, landing near the foot of the wharf in the large open area.

  Dane motioned to Mary-Kate. She rose, checking Lisa again, pleased to note she was sleeping despite all the activity going on around her. Hurrying across the large building, she joined Dane.

  "Mary-Kate, Mike's been hurt," he told her.

  "Oh, no." She turned and looked at Lisa, then back at Dane. “What happened?”

  "Slipped on the side of the launch, and went into the water. A swell pinned him between the launch and the hull of the freighter. He's concussed, broken arm and maybe internal injuries. I don't want Lisa to know. I'm going to send her on the first lift out, and I want you to go with her. We'll see to Mike. He'll be on the second flight out. Once we know how things are going with her we'll tell him. But someone needs to go with her to the hospital and he can't do it." His eyes stared down into hers, and softened.

  "You don't have to wait for the supply boat after all. You can get off the island today," he said softly, his arms coming around her.

  "But--" Mary-Kate didn't say anything, just hugged him tightly. She'd go. She'd known she had to go all along.

  "Take care," she whispered, afraid to look at him for fear he'd see her secret written on her face.

  "You, too." He kissed her cheek, and let her go. He was gone before she reached Lisa.

  Mary-Kate was numb to the rest of the day. She climbed into the big med-evac helicopter and sat beside Lisa, making up a story about Mike's being at the helm of the launch and joining his wife as soon as the last survivors were off the ship.

  The onboard medic gave Lisa a sedative and she soon fell asleep. The contractions had slowed. Mary-Kate hoped the doctor at the hospital would find nothing wrong with her.

  The other injured men on
the helicopter were secured, and the helicopter lifted away from the island, dancing and swirling around in the buffeting wind, heading for safety.

  Mary-Kate tried to take a last look at the island, but the rain blurred against the windows and made visibility impossible. She sighed, holding Lisa's hand, wishing it were Dane's. There was a lot she could have said, should have said. Now it was forever too late. There was no reason to return, ever.

  "Goodbye, my love," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mary-Kate lay back against the pillows, tears seeping from behind her closed lids. Again. She'd already cried twice since checking into her room after leaving Lisa at Queens Hospital. It wouldn't do any good. Tears wouldn't ease the ache in her heart.

  Her South Seas escapade was over. Tomorrow she was going home. She'd tried to contact the Lombard’s through Mr. Lombard's office. His manager had been quick to offer to pay all expenses for Mary-Kate's return home and a bonus as compensation for the misadventure. The money was wired immediately to her hotel. He also contacted the closest consulate and arranged temporary identification for her. The yacht had already started for Los Angeles and refused to return for Mary-Kate because of the stormy weather.

  She had started to express incredulity that they could have left her so cavalierly, but held her tongue. The Lombard’s were as they were. And to them money could buy almost anything. If they had not left her, she'd never have met Dane. She wondered if it was worth the heartache. Smiling slowly, she remembered every moment they'd spent together. Some were magical. Those were the ones she'd forever remember.

  She'd called her parents, explaining her adventures and giving them information about her flight home. Now she only had to find the energy to go out and buy the clothes she needed for her journey home.

  Lisa was doing well. Mary-Kate had checked up on her just a few minutes ago. The contractions had stopped. The doctors were keeping her in the hospital one more day, but tests indicated the baby was doing fine.

  Lisa had been stunned to learn her husband was in the same hospital. Once they'd reunited, she said she could face anything now that she knew Mike's injuries weren't as serious as first thought. One arm in a cast and was on watch for concussion. Otherwise, just scrapes and bruises.

  Mike had reported the situation on the island to her and Mary-Kate when they met in his room early the next morning. The sea-going tug had arrived to put the Japanese ship under tow. All the injured had been evacuated.

  Mary-Kate promised to stop and see Lisa before she left tomorrow. She wished Mike had said something about Dane. She comforted herself by saying no news meant he was undoubtedly fine.

  Now the rest of the day remained. Tomorrow she'd board the plane and head for the Iowa. She'd declined her parents' offer to stay with them for a couple of weeks, deciding instead to go straight home. It would be easier to put her life back together in her own place.

  Her tears ran again. She missed Dane terribly. And she kept fantasizing on ways to meet him again. Where he'd declare it all a misunderstanding. Have him declare his love for her.

  She dwelt on their last evening together, in the small heaven of the plane. She wished the Japanese ship had never been near Manahakaloi. She loved Dane Carmichael. It would be a long time before she got over him. If she ever did. She had no pictures, but her memory of him was burned into her mind and her heart. Would time and years fade the memory? Would she look back when she was old and not remember what he looked like, the strong emotion she felt for him?

  She didn't think it likely.

  The phone beside the bed rang. Could it be the ticket agent confirming her flight tomorrow? Mary-Kate sat up and took a deep breath. Hoping her voice didn't sound as if she'd been crying, she answered.

  "I had the devil's worst time finding you!" Dane's voice growled in her ear, loud and clear.

  Mary-Kate swallowed; his voice sounded so dear to her. "Hi," she said at last. "I stayed with Lisa until the doctor said she was out of danger."

  "I know. I talked with Lisa already and Mike. He's doing okay. Both will be discharged tomorrow if there are no further issues. Lisa thought you were staying at one of the other hotels. When you weren't there, I started calling around. Are you coming back to the island?"

  "No, no, I won't be coming back. I need to get home." Her voice was soft, and she hoped she kept the sadness from it.

  There was a long sigh at the other end. "When are you going?"

  "There's a flight out tomorrow. I called for reservations and because the storm has put things on hold, they have to call back to confirm. I talked to the Lombard’s, or rather their manager. They're paying all expenses."

  It was so inconsequential. She would much rather talk about him, what he was doing, if he really missed her. If he was all right after the rescue of the crewmen. But it was safer to talk about the Lombard’s.

  "The least they could do. Where's the yacht?"

  "En route to Los Angeles."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine. How are you? No one else hurt last night going out in the rough sea?”

  “No, Mike was the only one. The tugboat has the ship under tow, the wind has died down, and the rain is just a drizzle now. Everyone on the island is fine. Mary-Kate, I'll come over and see you to your plane."

  "There's no need, Dane. I can manage. It's an early flight, not worth your coming over. Thanks for everything."

  "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. You'll be on the nine o'clock flight, I assume?"

  "Yes."

  "I'll pick you up at eight."

  "But--"

  "Good night, Mary-Kate." The connection was broken.

  Mary-Kate slowly replaced the receiver, torn between wanting to see him one more time and the fresh heartache she would find on saying goodbye again.

  Deep in her heart she was glad he was coming. They would take the last few minutes together, say goodbye better than they had on the island. The thought of his visit galvanized her into action. She'd buy the prettiest thing she could find, put on makeup, and look as nice as she could for her grand farewell. He didn't want her, but maybe he could be just a little sorry she was leaving.

  Promptly at eight the next morning Dane called from the lobby. Everything she'd purchased fit into the soft-sided case, which Mary-Kate picked up. Glancing once more around the room, she put on a smile and went to catch her plane.

  She was looking her best. Her hair had been washed and dried, curling softly around her face. She'd used makeup sparingly, but highlighter and mascara to best advantage. Her eyes sparkled. Her tan was almost uniform, and the light blue scooped-neck dress showed her figure to its best effect.

  She saw him as soon as she stepped out of the elevator. Wearing tan trousers, a navy jacket and a crisp white shirt, Dane was standing near the door, watching the elevators. When he saw her he made no move, just watched as she walked toward him.

  Pinning a bright smile on her face, Mary-Kate raised her head, walking proudly to him. Not for anything in this world would she let him know how tenuous her control was.

  "You didn't have to do this," she said as she drew near.

  He shrugged. "Wanted to." He brought one hand from behind his back; on his fingers dangled the bright pink bikini. "You forgot something."

  She smiled and took the skimpy swimsuit, shoving it into her bag. "I won't need it in Iowa. I couldn't wear it there."

  "That's too bad—you look great in it. You ready?"

  She nodded, putting on the sunglasses she'd bought. Smiling at his compliment, she turned to leave the hotel. Memories crowded her mind—the first time she'd worn the swimsuit and the last. She took a deep breath—time enough for memories later. She still had to get to the plane without breaking down.

  He had rented a late-model sedan, its comfort in sharp contrast to the jeep. Quickly he pulled out into traffic, heading for the small airport she'd landed in night before last.

  "So you didn't want the two weeks,
" he remarked softly.

  Mary-Kate closed her eyes. Why was he making it hard? Two weeks would buy her nothing but more heartache.

  "No. It's better if I go home now."

  "Better for whom?" He reached out and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers, resting their linked hands on his hard thigh.

  She swallowed and looked over at him.

  "Why are you doing this? For the entire time I was on the island, you made it perfectly clear you didn't want me there. Now I've left and you want me back? I don't get it."

  "A thank you for your help—the day camp made a big hit."

  "You can get someone else for that. I have to get home."

  "Did you dislike it so much?" he asked.

  "No. I enjoyed my stay."

  "But there's not enough to do."

  "That's your take, Dane, not mine. If I had stayed, I had plenty to do with the day camp. If I lived there, I'd find plenty to do. Your house could stand some improvement. I could teach the kids, help at the office, learn lots about growing and marketing pineapple." She sighed, tugged her hand, trying to free it. He wouldn't release it. "But I don't live there, I live in Iowa, and I have plenty to do there, too."

  "What, that can't wait two weeks?"

  She didn't have anything that couldn't wait two weeks. But she didn't have two weeks to give him. It was difficult leaving now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to if she stayed another two weeks. Especially the way she thought the two weeks would go.

  She didn't answer, only gazed unseeingly out the window.

  They were silent for the rest of the journey. When they reached the airport, Dane parked the car, then sat for a moment, looking out the front.

  "In Hawaii, aloha means hello and goodbye. I brought you a lei." He released her fingers and reached in the back, drawing out a plastic bag with a delicate ivory ginger lei. Taking it from the bag, he looped it over her head. "Aloha, Mary-Kate."