“He’s almost there, Ricky!” She kept calling to Ricky, praying that whatever words came into her head might encourage him to hang on. Her throat hurt and her voice grew hoarse. With shaking hands she kept the searchlight focused on the boy, and soon Brent’s tall figure was standing on the bluff above Ricky.
An angry crash sent spray high into the air. For a terrible moment Allison thought Ricky had been washed off the ledge. But when the mist cleared, she saw that he was still there. Above him, Brent was easing his way down the rock face to the ledge.
“Be careful, Brent!” she cried.
Another wave crashed into the thunder hole; the echoing boom sounded like a death knell. Allison trained the light on the two figures, her body aching with cold and tension.
Brent continued to maneuver his way down until he was just a few feet above Ricky. Clinging to the rock with one hand, he reached toward the boy with the other. Ricky clutched it eagerly, and Brent pulled him slowly upward. It seemed an agonizingly long time before Ricky was finally anchored to Brent’s side. For a moment the two figures gripped each other without moving. To Allison, it looked like the stopped frame of a film, the two dark bodies clinging motionless to the darker rocks. The only thing that told her time hadn’t halted was the continuing crash of the surf below. Then, very slowly, and very carefully, Brent lifted the boy onto his shoulders.
With a cry of joy Ricky scrambled up to the safety of the bluff. Allison took a long breath and let it out. Her palms were damp and her hands shook on the light control.
Suddenly she froze. Something was wrong. Brent was slipping bit by bit down the rock face to the narrow ledge where Ricky had been standing.
“No! Brent!” Allison screamed. “Oh my God!” And then she was silenced by the horror in front of her eyes as Brent fell through the air into the turbulent water of the thunder hole.
Her scream seemed to last forever, ringing out over the raging water. She saw the group of men appear on the bluff over the thunder hole, but her brain didn’t register their significance. Mechanically, she kept the light trained on the place where she last saw Brent. Every few seconds a cloud of spray leaped into the air. There was no sign of him.
Gradually she realized what the men were doing. Someone was being lowered in a rope sling, dangling over the thundering water, lower and lower. A bud of hope opened inside her. Was it possible that they could save Brent? Could he still be alive?
Fear coated her tongue. The rescue rope dropped lower; the man in the sling disappeared briefly in a burst of spray. She heard the shouts of the men on the cliff but couldn’t make out their words. She held her breath, her eyes riveted to the rope.
Then, slowly, the rope was being pulled back up. She strained to make out the figure on the end of the line. He was holding something over his shoulder. Her heart slammed against her chest wall as she recognized what it was. He had Brent’s body.
When the rope was finally hauled all the way back to the bluff, she watched the men lay the body on a stretcher, and then they disappeared from the ridge. Her hands continued to cling to the light control, although she was dimly aware that there was no longer any need for the searchlight.
She’d never felt more alone or helpless in her life. Brent had been killed before her eyes, taken from her, just at the moment when she was going to tell him she’d decided to break the engagement. Tears filled her eyes and overflowed, running down her cheeks. If only she’d listened to him! He’d been right all along; she had never truly loved Cabot. Now it was too late. She would never again feel his strong arms around her, taste the sensuous warmth of his lips. Now she would never be able to tell him that he was the man she loved, had loved from her very first day on the island.
It seemed an eternity that she stood there, weeping and leaning against the gunwale. She had no anxiety about what might happen to her, about how she would get back to shore. All she was aware of was a deadness inside, a huge, black hole of pain. When she started trembling, it seemed as if she would never stop. Weakness flooded her, and her shaking became so violent that she sank to her knees.
Something dug into her right knee, something hard and jagged. She looked down. Her knee was bleeding; a deep gash had been cut into her flesh. She groped along the deck until she found the cause of her wound. When her fingers closed over it, she recognized it instantly. Cabot’s ring.
Rage surged through her, white-hot and blinding. So much misery in the past four weeks had been caused by the ring! She pulled herself against the gunwale and lifted the ring to fling it into the water, but something stopped her. It was as if Brent was standing in the darkness behind her, speaking. He had told her so many times to give Cabot back the ring. To do anything less now would be a betrayal.
She got to her feet, bumping the spotlight. The circle of light swung across the water. It was then that she saw the rowboat coming toward her, a small oblong carrying two figures. A moment later she heard a familiar voice.
“Allison? Is that you?” It was Isabel, her tone high and clear in the darkness. It sounded like an angel’s.
“Yes!” Allison ran to the stern. The next moment Isabel and Abel were climbing aboard and she was sandwiched between them in a tight, three-way hug.
“You poor thing!” Isabel murmured. “You must be scared to death! Out here all alone!”
“Thank God you were,” Abel said. “We couldn’t have located Brent without the searchlight.”
“Brent—is he . . . ?” Allison’s throat knotted with tears and she closed her eyes against her thought.
Isabel patted her shoulder. “He’s alive, dear. They’ve taken him to the hospital.”
“Alive?” Allison blinked at her. Something warm opened deep in her chest. She brushed at her wet face. “He’s really alive?”
“He’s pretty beat up, but he’ll make it,” Abel said. “He’s as strong as he is stubborn.” He went into the pilothouse. “Now let’s get you back home where you belong.”
“No, please. I want to see Brent. I have something I have to tell him.”
Isabel put her arm around Allison’s shoulder. “We’ll go first thing in the morning, dear. All three of us, and half the town besides. But there’s nothing we can do for Brent now. They wouldn’t let us see him tonight.”
Allison was too exhausted to argue. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she’d seen with her own eyes that Brent was alive.
Abel flicked off the searchlight, started the Blue Lady and swung her around. A few moments later they were heading into the cove.
Allison sagged against the wall of the pilothouse. “How’s Ricky?”
Isabel laughed. “Oh, he’s just fine. Full of vim and vinegar five minutes after he was rescued. But I do think he’ll be a bit more careful from now on. Some kids just have to learn their respect for the ocean the hard way.”
Abel grunted. “As I recall, Brent was one of those kids.”
Isabel nodded. “And you, too, Abel Cutler, if I remember correctly.”
He gave her a sheepish grin, and despite herself, Allison laughed.
At the house, Allison took a hot shower, then washed and bandaged her cut knee. It was a deep gash, but it would heal. In her room she changed into jeans and a sweater and examined her dress. It was dirty and grass-stained; a hole had been torn in the skirt. She’d never be able to wear it again, and yet she hung it carefully in her closet, remembering vividly how it had felt to be in Brent’s arms. Her tears came again, and she collapsed weakly on the bed.
When Isabel came quietly into the room, Allison was still sobbing loudly.
“You poor dear!” The older woman sat beside her on the bed and gently rubbed Allison’s back. “You’ve been through so much! Why don’t you come downstairs and have some hot chocolate before you go to bed?”
Allison sat up and made a halfhearted attempt to dry her eyes. She sniffed loudly. “I’d love to, but I have something I have to do first.”
“Nonsense! What you have to do is
get some sleep so you’ll be fresh in the morning.”
“No, really. I have to see Cabot.”
A frown creased Isabel’s face. “He went home hours ago. I’m afraid, dear, that people aren’t saying very nice things about him.”
“I know. And they have good reason. Isabel, I’m going to give him back his ring.”
“Oh, my dear! Surely it’s not necessary to break your engagement because he didn’t join the search.” The older woman continued to frown, but her voice lacked its usual conviction.
“Yes, it is. And it doesn’t really have anything to do with tonight. The fact is, I don’t love him.”
Isabel cleared her throat. “Well, I won’t deny that I’ve had my doubts about this marriage, dear. You didn’t exactly seem head over heels for the man.”
”I don’t think I even knew the meaning of love before I came to Harper’s Island,” Allison whispered.
The older woman looked at her thoughtfully, then her face folded into a wide smile. Though she didn’t say anything, Allison had the feeling that Isabel knew exactly what she meant.
Chapter Twenty-one
The moon was setting over Lookout Point as Allison approached the guest cottage. The little house was dark. She marched up to the front door and turned the knob. It didn’t open. She frowned, tried it again. Nothing.
She knocked loudly. “Cabot?” Her voice was startlingly resonant in the darkness. There was a thump from deep inside the house, and then the sound of footsteps. The door opened.
“Allison!” Cabot smiled at her, but his eyes were cold. He was wearing a gray velour bathrobe. His bare legs and feet looked curiously vulnerable. “What are you doing here? I was sleeping.”
“May I come in, Cabot? This will only take a minute.”
He cleared his throat. “It’s not a very good time, darling. Can’t this wait until morning?”
“No.”
She heard the sound of a toilet flushing from inside the cottage. He reached behind him to close the door. She felt a finger of ice at the base of her throat. “Is Martha here?”
His smile stiffened.
She knew instantly that she’d guessed correctly “Never mind,” she said quickly. “I’ll say what I came to say out here. I’m breaking our engagement.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
She pushed the ring into his hand. “Give it to Martha. She’s much better suited to wear it.”
“But Allison, I love you—” He reached toward her, but she stepped quickly away.
“No you don’t, Cabot. You never did. I’m not your type at all.”
He swallowed. “I didn’t intend that you should find out. Martha and I have been very discreet.”
“I’m sure you have,” she said bitterly. “That’s the trouble with how you see things, Cabot. There’s so much concentration in your world on discretion and appearance, there isn’t any room for trust. Love is just an incidental detail, something that has to be fitted in with all the corporate business deals and the charity balls.”
“My world, as you call it, is something you wanted very much to be a part of, Allison. You can’t deny that.”
“You’re right. That was my first mistake. My second was loving you.”
“There’s no reason we can’t work this out, Allison.”
“Yes there is. Because I don’t want to work it out.”
He gave her a startled look. “Mother is going to be very upset.”
She looked at him. “That’s what it’s really been about all along, isn’t it? Pleasing Sarah. You weren’t the one who chose me for your wife. It was your mother.”
“I never intended to hurt you, Allison.”
“No, you just assumed that I would look the other way while you had your affairs. That’s the way it works in your world, isn’t it?”
He was silent.
She sighed. “It doesn’t really matter. I couldn’t have gone on much longer pretending I really loved you. It was only a question of time before I listened to my heart.” She felt hot tears well into her throat, swallowed hard. “The thing that’s unforgivable is that you didn’t join in the search for Ricky Flory. There was a little boy in terrible danger on this island tonight, Cabot. They needed every available man to help search for him. You refused to help.”
“I had my work to do,” he muttered. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”
“It wasn’t your work. You saw an opportunity to go off alone with Martha—a time when no one would be wondering about where the two of you were—and you took it. Your lust took priority over a child’s life!”
“Now, just a minute! You’re not being fair!” He reached for her arm, but she jerked away.
“I think I am. You’ve just slept with my best friend. You’ve made a travesty of our engagement. You ignored a little boy’s desperate plight. I think I’m being more than fair, under the circumstances.”
“Don’t think that you can speak to me this way and get your ring back in the morning, Allison!”
“I thought I made it clear. I don’t want your ring back! I’m breaking the engagement. You’re a coward and a hypocrite. I’m only sorry that I wasn’t smart enough to see that months ago and save us both a lot of misery.”
She turned on her heel and marched away. She heard the door close firmly behind her and she felt a sudden, welling joy. She raised her left hand and looked at her bare fingers. She was free! She started down the hill, jogging and skipping, as if she wasn’t tired at all, but had just awakened from a bad dream.
At the Cutler house Isabel was waiting up for her. A steaming pan on the stove filled the kitchen with the aroma of hot chocolate.
Isabel gave her a warm, sympathetic hug before she took a mug from the counter, poured it full of hot cocoa, and handed it to Allison. Allison sat down at the table, clutching the mug tightly between her hands. “How did things go with Cabot?” Isabel’s blue eyes were full of concern.
Allison smiled. “Very well, considering. I just wish I’d done it a long time ago.”
“Still, it’s not easy when two people break up, even if it is for the best. I remember when I told Roy that I was in love with Abel. It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.”
Allison gazed down into the creamy brown liquid. “I don’t think I was ever really in love with Cabot. I was attracted to what he represented, and he’s really quite handsome, but that’s not love, is it?” She glanced up at Isabel, who shook her head sadly. “Actually, I think our relationship was a matter of social convenience for Cabot. And I was brought up believing I should marry somebody with a lot of money, if I was really going to be a successful woman.”
“Well, if that’s true, then you’re well rid of him. No marriage can survive that sort of beginning. A good marriage has to be based on love. It’s the only thing in life you can really count on.”
“Yes. I can see that now.” Allison took a sip of cocoa. The chocolate slid down her throat, soothing it warmly. “Anyway, I think he’s always been in love with Martha.”
Isabel nodded. “I wondered why he spent so much time over here while you were with the play group.”
“He was sleeping with her tonight, Isabel. She was at the cottage when I got there.”
Isabel gave her a pained look. “Oh, my dear! That must have hurt terribly!”
Allison smiled. “Actually, I was so angry when I went up there, so eager to tell him off, I wouldn’t have cared if he’d had a dozen women in his bed.”
“But Martha’s your best friend.”
“I know. That’s the worst part.” Allison tried to blink away the stinging tears, but they spilled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She watched a tear drop into the mug of cocoa.
Isabel handed her a tissue and patted her shoulder gently. “Well, to be honest with you, dear, I never thought Cabot was the right man for you. He always struck me as rather stiff and cold.” She tucked a stray wisp of white hair behind her ear. “Maybe this is for
the best in the long run.”
Allison nodded up at her. “I know she’s always been half in love with Cabot. I just never thought she’d betray me like this.” Tears choked her once again.
“If they’re so attracted to each other, why isn’t he engaged to her?”
Allison wiped her face with the tissue. “Because of Sarah, Cabot’s mother. She doesn’t like Martha, even though she’s from Cabot’s social class and went to all the right schools. His mother thinks she’s too flighty for Cabot.”
Isabel brushed her hand across the table. “Seems to me Cabot ought to make that decision for himself. Maybe the flighty type’s exactly what he needs. Might loosen him up.”
“You’re right. I never thought of it that way.”
“Well, if Cabot’s going to grow up, he’s going to have to make his own choices, and act on them.” Isabel went to the sink and rinsed out the empty saucepan.
Allison looked down at her bare left hand. She felt relaxed and sleepy; the cocoa had done its work. “Now that the wedding’s off, I’ve got a lot of choices to make myself. I’ll have to go back home and explain everything to my parents. That won’t be easy. They were absolutely thrilled about my marrying Cabot.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand, dear. Sometimes parents get temporarily caught up in a dream for their children, but what they really want is their children’s happiness.”
Allison nodded. “They’ll approve when I explain it to them. I wonder if I’ll be able to get my old job back next fall.”
Isabel came up behind her, put her hands on Allison’s shoulders. “Don’t make any hasty decisions, dear. You’ll always have a home here with Abel and me. And those kids still need a play group for the rest of the summer.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t desert them!” Allison twisted in her chair to look up at the older woman.
“Good.” Isabel beamed. “I hoped you’d say that. Now finish up that cocoa and get to bed. We’ll be heading over to the hospital in less than six hours.”
Island Summer Love Page 23