"He'll stay." Luke touched her hair, tucked a curl behind her ear. "He knows I have treats and he's a very patient dog." The breeze stirred and she felt the air move on her bare skin.
"Why did you come tonight?" She stroked the cleanly shaven heat of his cheek, traced down over his chest where the hairs curled on her fingers again. "For this?"
"This... and more."
"What do you want from me?"
"Everything."
"Everything?" She was cradled in his arms, looking up at him.
He said softy, "To love, honor and cherish, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health—yes, that's what I want, Laurie."
She pulled away from him. "It's not what I want, Luke."
"Are you sure?" He moved closer, touched her face gently. "Holding you in my arms, I would have said you never wanted to be apart from me."
"That's different. We can be lovers."
He laughed a little bitterly. "You only want my body?"
"My mother can paint the ocean so that you would swear the wave will crash down on you any moment. Her paintings can be strong, even frightening. You've heard of Marshall Galleries? Zach Marshall saw her work, wanted her to do a show in his gallery. She never did it, Luke. She stopped painting for my father. She dabbles now, still lifes and portraits of friends' children. She has a talent, could do marvelous things, but she deliberately stifled it all—because she loves my father. She says she's happy, says she has what she wants, but she's only half alive."
"You're not your mother. I'm not my father. We can love each other."
"Luke, I—I can't."
In the dark, she heard him put his shirt back on, walking away from her, going over to where Max sat quietly on the beach. She was left alone, cold, wanting to call him back to her, but unable to say anything.
He wanted too much.
She dressed and walked over to Luke and the dog. They walked back along the beach together, talking to Max rather than to each other. When they reached the house, Luke didn't come in with her. He got in his car and drove away, leaving her alone with Max.
She watched him go, terribly afraid he would not come back.
* * *
"It's hopeless," Nat groaned, looking over the latest applications they had received. "You'd think, with jobs so scarce—"
"Nat, we should reconsider Anna."
"Anna doesn't have the self-confidence."
"But she's got the voice and the listeners already like her. John can train her if anyone can. We could give the job to her on trial—or even tell her it's temporary, then see if she shapes up. Meanwhile, John could do some of the interviews—I could even do some."
"Plus handle Peter's job?"
Standing on my head, she thought, because she was coming to realize how little Peter had been doing. "I already do most of it."
He agreed in the end. There was little choice. Anna was thrilled. John started training her in earnest.
"She'll be fine," John assured Laurie after Anna's first week in the new job. "She's nervous, and interviewing is a skill she's got to learn, but she's smart and she's determined."
Laurie hoped he was right. She listened to the Noon Show and Island Time with a critical ear she'd suddenly developed, worried by her new responsibilities. Meanwhile, she started a slow, tactful campaign to liven up the disc jockeys' shows.
She was working harder than she ever had in the past. It was exciting, shaping the image the station presented to the listeners. It was a challenge and she loved a challenge.
But at night, when she drove home she always held her breath from the time she turned off the highway until she could see all the way to her house. Every night, she felt the same sick disappointment because Luke's vehicle wasn't there.
He wasn't going to come.
The house was so empty without him. There was only Max, and Max belonged to Luke as much as he did to Laurie. Her bell didn't ring often, but when it did she ran to the door, greeting her occasional guests with a sad smile that bewildered her mother and made Bev ask questions Laurie didn't want to answer.
She'd invited Luke to be her lover but he wanted more than she'd been willing to give. She didn't think it was like Luke to stay away out of pique, but night after night he didn't return.
Occasionally someone would mention his name so she learned that he'd begun organizing a volunteer rescue organization. She sent John out to interview Luke.
John came back with an interview, the first Luke had ever given the station. Of course, there was no reason for him to refuse now that his father knew where he was.
One day she saw him on the street. He smiled at her as if she were a chance acquaintance, then he turned away.
She threw herself into her work.
"You don't need to do it all in one month," Nat warned her. "Forty hours a week is all I ask."
But the nights were so empty. Didn't he miss her? How could he stay away from her so long? She walked the dog he had given her, walking to the beach each night, but not too far. She didn't want to miss the sound of a truck coming into her drive.
He'd done something to her house, sharing so much of it with her that she couldn't look into any of its corners without seeing him. The only place he hadn't been was upstairs, in the bedroom.
She kept expecting the loneliness to ease, the memories to dim. As the weeks went by, she realized that he was so much in her mind she'd never be free of him.
She'd shied away from any lasting commitment, afraid of her vulnerability to him. Now that he was gone, she realized how deeply he'd been a part of her from the start. The first time she'd recognized him as if from a forgotten intimacy. But she'd closed her eyes, afraid of losing herself, and he'd walked away.
While her personal life echoed with barrenness, her life at work blossomed. Listening to Anna, she caught new flashes of the girl's personality. John had started her on the easy interviews—the daily weatherman report and the police report. The nervousness was disappearing from her voice.
Anna was going to make it. Laurie still helped out John by tackling the tricky interviews herself, but soon Anna and John would be able to handle it on their own.
"But never all of it," she told Nat during one of their Friday meetings. "I want to keep my hand in—just the odd interview."
"The tricky ones—those are the ones you miss."
"You're right, but I'm also enjoying being the boss."
"You'll say it's none of my business, but the way you're going, you can't have any time for a private life. For a while, I thought—"
"What?"
"Lucas. I thought something might come of that."
"Why does something have to come of it? Are you one of those men who think a woman needs a man to make life worth living?"
He didn't answer at first, picking up a paper from his desk, After a moment he put it down again. "It's your own affair, Laurie, but I worry about you. I know you like the job, but in between, when you're not busy, you look pretty glum. And I've stopped hearing rumors of his truck outside your house every night."
Luke hadn't been to her house in weeks. She knew he was flying long hours, seldom stopping before dark. If Luke were her husband, he might fly late but he would come home to her every night.
"You're being stupid," Bev had told her when she tried to explain why Luke had left.
She knew she'd been right to run from the idea of marriage to Ken. He'd wanted a wife at home, mother for his children, mistress for his three-bedroom, split-level dream house with the two-car garage. It was, she realized, the image of a wife that her father was most comfortable with—the one she had grown up believing she should conform to.
With Luke—
He'd not only loved her, she realized, but he'd also liked the person she was. He had constantly demonstrated his interest in her activities, his respect for her intelligence. It was hard to imagine him smothering her, not wanting her to be her own person.
The thought of marriage to Luke had frightened
her for another reason. From the moment they met, his affect on her had been so strong. If she were to let him get too close, she would be terribly vulnerable to him. He could hurt her so easily
"He stopped coming," she told Nat flatly. "There's not much I can do about that."
"Isn't there?"
Nat's words haunted her through the afternoon.
She talked to a lightkeeper's wife about a series of commentaries, helping her organize her ideas, arranging a voice test with John. Then she went out to talk to a fisherman who'd been involved in a near-collision with a government ferry.
No matter how many nights she waited, Luke wasn't going to come. She could sit and wait, or she could do something.
Waiting for him to come was easier. Lonely, but easier than walking up to him, telling him she needed him.
Telling him she loved him. That would be hard. Frightening, not being sure how he might take that kind of announcement. He hadn't come near her in a month. He might be having second thoughts about wanting her, loving her.
Was he staying away, waiting for her to make up her mind? Or had he given up on her?
Chapter 13
Laurie tossed in her bed until she saw the glow of dawn in the sky. Then she fell into a deep, troubled sleep, no decision made.
It was well into the morning when she woke, later than she had intended. She got up and showered, then made a breakfast she didn't want, talking to Max and feeding him a distasteful looking breakfast from a tin.
"Don't know how you can stand it, Max. Smells awful—looks awful." She sat down at the table. "Mind you, my fried eggs don't look so great, either."
Max was too busy wolfing down his breakfast to comment.
Max was good company, better than talking to the walls. She had a vision of herself ten years from now, fixing dinner for herself and the dog, living only for the hours at work—like Hilda McQuade, pretending an animal could substitute for human warmth.
If Luke hadn't walked away from her that last night on the beach, they would be lovers now. She'd imagined that often, especially nights as she went to bed alone.
A lover looked after your sexual needs, but she needed much more than that. She needed someone to share the breakfasts, the lunches—someone to share the sunsets and the joys, someone to come home to nights.
She wasn't sure, but one day she might want to have a child. She needed a partner, a father for her children.
Of course she wanted Luke as a lover, but the constant yearning she had felt since he walked away wasn't just for his body. She'd missed flying with him, talking with him, walking with him. Having him close in her... in her heart.
She wasn't sure where she would find Luke on a Saturday, but she found his truck the first place she looked—outside the QC air office.
Going up to the door of his office, her heart pounded in her throat. She didn't know what to say, or how to say it. But when she grasped the doorknob and found it locked, she felt bitterly disappointed. The truck was here, but Luke was out flying.
He might be gone for an hour or a day. There was no way of knowing. She sat in the Honda, waiting.
Almost an hour later a Beaver circled overhead and she ran down the ramp only to be disappointed when Gary stepped out of the plane behind the two passengers.
"Mornin', Miss Mather. Nice day."
"Yes," she agreed. The sky was blue, but she felt cold and lonely.
"Lookin' for Luke? He'll be along in about half an hour."
"Thanks."
She walked up to the road. Vicky's was open and she went in and bought a coffee. Once she had the cup in her hand, she sipped impatiently on the hot beverage. If she took too long, she might miss Luke. He could fly away... drive away.
In the end she left the cup half full and walked back to her car. On the dock she felt exposed, conspicuous, as if everyone knew she was waiting for Luke, that he hadn't invited her.
This time, when the Goose landed, she stayed in her car, parked where she could watch the seaplane float.
Luke got out first and opened the door for the passengers. Six men climbed out. Laurie left the car and walked slowly down the ramp as Luke handed out the baggage and the men moved away. They were loggers, out for a weekend of partying, and they passed her, walking fast up the ramp. Someone else passed her, running down.
She moved slowly, nervous, uncertain how to approach him. Crazy! She could walk up to any stranger with a microphone, but she was having trouble walking up to this man she loved.
The man who'd pushed past her called out, "Hey, Luke! Can you take me down to Cumshewa? Jake was supposed to drive me over on the logging road. The so-and-so left without me!"
"Sure, Wolf, hop in." Wolf climbed into the Goose, his pack in his hand. Luke was untying the plane, getting ready to leave.
She came up behind him, not quite daring to touch him.
"Luke?"
"Laurie?"
He'd known who it was before he spotted her. She saw something flash in his eyes and sudden tears welled up in her throat, choking her so she couldn't talk for a moment.
"Can I come?" she whispered.
"Hop on."
As she had once before, she climbed into the plane quickly, before he could change his mind.
Curnshewa was only moments away. Luke had hardly brought the Goose out of its climb before he began circling over the long inlet. He landed on the calm water and taxied up to the dock.
Then they were alone in the plane and Laurie slipped into the co-pilot's seat. Luke handed her the headset although he said nothing during takeoff. When he had leveled off from his ascent, there was still silence, except for the noise of the two engines.
"Luke, I—"
"Wait." He checked the instruments, threw a switch. "Take it around to a heading of two-seventy, then level off."
She looked at the compass, at the land below them. Two-seventy would take them north of Queen Charlotte, towards the west coast. She put the plane into a gentle turn, hoping Luke would stop her if she did something wrong. She had never touched the controls of the Goose before, only the smaller Beaver.
Luke wrote something in his log.
"That's good," he told her when he looked up. They were out over the open ocean now. The water was flat and calm as far as she could see. "Bring it around now in a gentle turn. You'll circle once, losing height slowly, then land." He pointed to the long beach they had just passed.
"The Goose is too big," she protested. "I can't land it."
"You'll be fine. Bank gently, she'll start losing altitude."
Moments later, when she came out of the turn, flying straight and level, losing height quickly, her hands started to tremble.
"Easy," he urged her. "Just let her down slowly, you've all the water in the world."
The water was glassy smooth, but she touched unevenly on one pontoon, then settled back into the water.
"Lovely!"
"It was a horrible landing! " But she had brought the plane down, all by herself. Luke hadn't touched the controls once.
"You won't be frightened next time." They were a long way out from the beach. Luke took the controls and revved the engines until they were roaring up on to the beach. The plane stood, dripping seawater, as they scrambled out.
He stood a few feet away from her at the water's edge, looking out over the ocean.
"Where have you brought me?"
"The edge of the world," he told her. "But you brought us. You landed here."
She could see no sign that any living person had ever been here before. Towards the ocean, the blue of the water and the blue of the sky stretched out to meet in a hazy, featureless horizon. There were no sounds except their breathing.
"It could be the edge of the world." Ever since she met him, she'd been on the edge of the world. "Luke..."
He turned swiftly towards her, his face strangely menacing.
"Don't make up your mind too quickly."
Sometimes, in the night, she thought of him go
ne, thought of the dreary, desolate sameness of the days stretching out—endlessly, like the sea in front of her.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about us. I'm warning you to be careful."
"I was careful last time we talked. That didn't work out so well."
She could feel the tension in him. She moved closer to him, to the edge of the water where he was standing. Carefully, she reached out to touch him. Luke moved away, hands still in his pockets, walking away from her.
Tightness clenched her throat. "Luke... Luke, a few weeks ago—on a beach on the other side of this island—you said you wanted to marry me." Her breath went short, her mouth dry so she could hardly get the sounds out. "Is it too late to accept?"
"Why?"
"Why? What gets into you? One minute I could walk into your arms and you'd welcome me, and the next you're ten miles away, cool and rational and telling me to cool down, be careful, take my time. Why, Luke? Do you love me? Do you want me, or don't you?"
"You weren't supposed to be real," he told her in a funny, strained voice.
"What?"
"I used to listen to you on the radio, before I met you."
"You told me."
"I didn't tell you how intimately I knew you."
"What?"
A slow wave surged up from the open ocean, climbing up the sand and ending in a soft flood of water along the beach.
"The first time I heard you on the radio, I was seven thousand feet up. You'll laugh, but I fell in love with you. You sneaked in, Laurie. You were a voice on the radio. You've no idea how well I got to know you, what I learned about you, just listening to you twice a day. It got out of proportion. Sometimes, I felt you were more real than anything else around me."
"I am real. I'm here."
"You've no idea what a shock it was when you walked up to me that night on the seaplane wharf."
"I thought you were angry. You glared at me as if I were an enemy."
"The only women I wanted around me were the ones that couldn't affect me too deeply. When you started talking to me I told myself you were nothing to do with the woman in my dreams. Then you came back the next morning, and I knew that wasn't true."
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