Sanctuary Island

by Everett, Lily

  “Hey! I have friends,” Ella protested, ignoring the comment about her dating life. Who had time to date? She couldn’t imagine devoting precious hours to the awkward, messy, pointless process of dating. Someday, maybe, but now? When the job she’d fought and studied and lived for was in jeopardy, and her baby sister was about to have a baby of her own?

  No. Ella had more important things to worry about than dating.

  Merry gave her the patented Little Sister Eye-roll of Doom. “Please. We live together. I know everyone you know. Your best friend is your therapist. And when you’re not at work, you’re at the apartment on your laptop, researching properties.”

  “Adrienne hasn’t been my therapist for years and you know it, so it’s completely fine that we meet up for lunch every now and then as friends. As for the rest of it, you’ve got enough hobbies for both of us,” Ella said fondly. “Maybe I’m a workaholic. But I’m trying to do better! An island vacation ought to get me off the hook for a year, at least.”

  She was trying to make a joke out of it, mostly to avoid having Merry press any harder on the reasons behind Ella’s abrupt willingness to use vacation days to visit the mother she’d long ago written off, but Merry didn’t smile.

  Ducking her head, Merry said, “I know this isn’t exactly the vacation of your dreams—I know you’re only here because of me, and I want you to know I appreciate it. I can’t imagine going through this alone.”

  Ella swallowed around the lump thickening her throat and leaned in for a hug. “Don’t worry about me—I graduated from therapy, remember? I worked through all my issues about this. And sure, maybe for me that means being fine with the status quo of turning down all of Jo’s attempts at reconciliation. But I understand why you don’t feel the same way. And, sweetie, you’ll never have to be alone,” she said into the soft hair at her sister’s temple. “Not as long as you have me.”

  The ferry blared its low, bleating horn. Merry pulled back, her eyes filled with excitement and nerves.

  Craning her neck, Ella saw that they were pulling up to a wide wooden dock that ended in a gravel parking lot. A small, whitewashed building squatted at the top of the gravel hill stretching a barrier arm across the narrow road that led to the interior of the island. The words “Summer Harbor” were painted across the side of the building in flowy script, the letters scoured to a faded blue by the salty breeze.

  The dock had been built up from the beach where a tumble of large, red-brown rocks formed a sloping wall between the flat circle of gravel and the surprisingly long stretch of untouched sand. Squinting, Ella made out a rickety set of steps connecting the two.

  After the incessant ebb and flow of the crowds thronging the streets of Washington, it was almost surreal to stare down at what seemed like miles of pristine beach, empty of everything except a couple of sandpipers hopping comically through the foam of receding waves.

  The wind was so briny Ella could taste it on the tip of her tongue. Gulls swooped and shrieked, their white wings glowing in the morning light, and Ella stood up to latch on to the railing.

  Even though her feet were firmly planted on the rumbling deck, she somehow felt pitched forward, poised on the brink of something she couldn’t name.

  Ella didn’t believe in fate or destiny. She didn’t believe in much of anything beyond the need to work for independence, the security of having a good plan, and the unbreakable bonds of loyalty and love that tied her to Merry. Believing in things was more in Merry’s line.

  But as a shiver of surprising anticipation traced down Ella’s spine, she couldn’t escape the feeling that Sanctuary Island was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  CHAPTER 2

  Ella carefully navigated their car’s slow, painstaking way down the corroded ramp, very aware of the precious cargo of Merry and her unborn baby strapped into the passenger seat.

  She drove across the parking area to the little white shack and paused in front of the red-striped automatic arm. Rolling her window down to try and get a better look through the uncovered window cut into the side of the building, Ella wondered if she was supposed to honk to get someone’s attention.

  A large, hulking figure with a strangely shaped head stirred in the shadows of the gatehouse. The figure moved with an odd, shambling gait, and when a meaty fist slid back the glass window in the side of the booth, Ella jumped.

  An older man beamed out at them, sunlight sparking red and gold off the points of the scratched, dented metal crown cocked at a rakish angle over his left eyebrow.

  “Good day! I’m King of the Gateway to Sanctuary. How can I help you ladies?”

  He spoke in a rich, plummy, obviously fake British accent, his underlying Southern diphthongs twanging through the words.

  Ella opened her mouth, then closed it again. The self-proclaimed royal leaned a companionable elbow, regally clad in a red-and-black checked flannel, on the windowsill and regarded the two women with considerable interest.

  “We … would like permission to enter the island,” Ella said, flicking a glance at the rearview mirror where the few other cars that had come over on the ferry were forming a line behind them.

  The king turned on the high beams, smiling widely enough to reveal crooked, tobacco-stained teeth and a disarming pair of dimples. “Well, of course! That’s what everyone wants. But we can’t just let any old so-and-so in, now can we? So. Who are you?”

  Rattled, Ella reached for her purse and dug through it for her driver’s license. What was this, Communist Russia? Was she going to have to produce her papers next? But when she held out the license, the king merely gave her a pitying look and made no move to examine it.

  “No, no, no. I don’t need to know your outsider name—I need to know your insider name. Who you are. Deep inside.”

  Beside her, Merry stifled a giggle, then winced uncomfortably as she pressed a hand to her lower stomach.

  Please don’t have an accident in this car, Ella thought frantically. I need the deposit back!

  Turning back to the gatekeeper, Ella put on her best calm, authoritative smile—the smile she used to convince real estate developers to sign on the dotted line. She sized up the King of the Gateway the same way she’d size up anyone she faced across the negotiating table.

  First, establish a rapport.

  “What’s your name, sir?”

  “King Sanderson,” he replied, puffing out his chest.

  Of course it was. “Well, your highness, it’s been a very long drive, and my sister is in dire need of a ladies’ room. If you could tell us what we need to do…”

  “I see,” he said, stroking his nonexistent beard meditatively. “Travelers from afar…”

  “Is there a fee of some kind?” Ella swallowed, mentally tallying up the price of the rental car plus the ferry, the unexpected hotel, now this. “I’ve got cash. I think. Somewhere—Merry, can you grab my purse?”

  “Sisters,” the king mused. “A pair of sisters … hmmm…”

  He banged his hand suddenly against the wall of the booth, startling the wallet right out of Ella’s hand.

  “By Jove, I’ve got it!” The man pointed one fleshy finger at them triumphantly, crowing, “I knew I’d get it! You’ve come a long way, through wind and rain, to see someone special—the woman who gave you life—for the first time in years.”

  Ella stared, an echo of that odd, fated feeling reverberating through her chest. “How did you know that?”

  He slapped the outer wall of the booth again, apparently tickled. “Shoot! Because your mama told me, that’s why! You’re Jo Ellen Hollister’s girls, I should have known from the get-go—you’ve got the look of the Hollister women about you. Come on in! We’ve been expecting y’all.”

  “Thanks,” Ella said with some relief. She eased her foot off the brake, but his royal highness wasn’t quite finished yet.

  “I hope you girls are ready for this.” He shook his grizzled head slowly, like a sleepy lion.

  Stomach tightenin
g into a knot, Ella wanted to ignore him—but, of course, Merry had to lean across her and ask, “Ready for what?”

  His eyes took on a sharpness that somehow made him seem more there, all of a sudden.

  “This island … it’s good for what ails you. It’ll change your life, if you let it, but like any great healing—it comes at a price.”

  Ella felt the hairs along her arms lift and prickle. Plastering on a determined smile, she said, “Okay, thank you for the warning. Bye now!”

  “Well, that was weird,” Merry said after Ella rolled her window up. “I wonder what he meant.”

  “He meant,” Ella said firmly, “that he’s an elderly gentleman who probably ought to be in an assisted living home somewhere, instead of manning that gatehouse all by himself. I wouldn’t worry about anything he said.”

  “I guess it’s good, though, right?” Merry licked her lips nervously as the wooden arm of the guard booth slowly lifted and the king waved them through with a benevolent smile. “That she talked about our visit?”

  “Sure, otherwise we’d be stuck baring our souls to his highness back there,” Ella said, summoning up a smile to soothe her sister’s palpable anxiety.

  The narrow paved road took them straight through the heart of downtown Sanctuary—which they knew because there was a banner splayed over the road that said THE HEART OF DOWNTOWN SANCTUARY in faded red lettering.

  Ella kept her breathing steady and even. So what if every heartbeat brought them closer to the moment when she’d look her mother in the eye for the first time since she was thirteen years old? She’d worked hard to move past the lingering issues of her childhood, and she’d succeeded. In the grand scheme of her life, Jo Ellen Hollister was completely unimportant.

  Ignoring the wave of nerves that implied otherwise, Ella studied the quaint clapboard buildings that lined the street.

  From what she could see, this place had a ton of untapped potential. Ella couldn’t help wondering how different the town might look if the island’s founders had seen fit to build a causeway. Without that link to the mainland, Sanctuary Island was a butterfly trapped in the sticky amber glow of times gone by.

  They drove slowly past a grass-covered square in the center of town. A white gazebo perched in the middle. People went about their lives, strolling the paths of the square and the wide sidewalks lining the streets, chatting in pairs or singly holding shopping bags. A lanky young man on a bicycle pedaled past Merry’s window with a cheerful grin and a wave.

  In fact, everyone they passed smiled and waved, as if Ella and Merry were long-lost friends returning home. Ella wanted to find it creepy, but she couldn’t. It was nice. Friendly. Welcoming.

  And the work-obsessed corner of her brain lit up with possibilities. A good developer could do a lot with raw material like Sanctuary Island.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting,” Merry said as they circled the town square, complete with pavilion and bandstand. “Maybe I thought it would look like Virginia Beach or something, kind of cutesy fakey touristy? But this place feels … real.”

  Ella knew what she meant. Part of her wanted to stop the car and get out, explore the town and all it had to offer. But instead she said, “Do you still need me to find a gas station or a rest stop?”

  “I’m okay.” As if to prove the words a lie, Merry’s fingers clutched at the map in her hands, crinkling the paper. Giving Ella a rueful smile, she smoothed out the page and said, “I kind of just want to get there, you know?”

  Trying to resign herself to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to put it off much longer, Ella made the turn off Main Street as Merry directed her, driving deeper into the island.

  The car emerged from a section of road shaded by tall pines, and the sudden brightness blinded Ella. She slowed the car, shading her eyes against the glittery splendor of the marsh laid out before them. Raindrops sparkled on the tall grass waving in the breeze. Everything had been washed clean by the recent storm, even the air.

  “So pretty,” Merry said, delighted. “In the city, rain just means cabs splashing you with dirty water every time they hit a deep puddle.”

  “Yeah, but even our old neighborhood didn’t have potholes like this,” Ella said, clutching the steering wheel tightly as they followed the winding road deeper into the trees. “Is your seat belt still on?”

  “You are such a worrier. I’m perfectly fine!”

  “Your navigation skills might be less than fine.” Ella made a grab for the map in her sister’s hand, but Merry held it teasingly out of reach. “Are you sure we’re going the right way? This looks like the middle of nowhere.”

  “Of course I’m sure! At least, I think this is the right way. We might have made an extra turn somewhere, but Ella, come on, look where we are! Who cares if we’re lost? We should be soaking it all in, and … oh my God, pull over, pull over!”

  “What?” Ella cried, slamming on the brakes. Her arms reflexively spun the wheel to get the car onto the side of the road while Merry scrabbled at the buckle of her seat belt and pushed open the passenger side door.

  Merry’s boots were squelching in mud before Ella had even thrown the car into park, and by the time she managed to wrestle her way free of her own seat belt, all she could think was that her sister had gone into premature labor or something.

  But no. Standing a few feet away from the car, Merry stared out over the marsh with her hands clasped rapturously under her chin. Her eyes were shiny, with joy or tears, Ella couldn’t quite tell, but she definitely didn’t appear to be in any pain.

  “What on earth are you doing?” All of Ella’s fear and worry exploded out of her in a burst of exasperation.

  “They’re just so beautiful,” Merry whispered, staring off into the distance. “I had to get a closer look.”

  Trying to get her heart to settle back into her rib cage where it belonged, Ella wrapped her arms around herself for warmth and stood next to her sister. Merry pointed, and that’s when Ella caught her first glimpse.

  A band of half a dozen wild horses foraged through the scrub grass on the other side of the marsh. Still shaggy with their winter coats, the horses ranged from darkest black to white spotted with big brown splotches.

  “I was afraid we wouldn’t get to see them,” Merry whispered.

  “The entire island is a nature preserve for the wild horses that live here,” Ella said, quoting the sparse encyclopedia entry she’d memorized when that first letter from Jo arrived. “We were bound to see horses at some point.”

  And personally, this was about as close as Ella wanted to get to them.

  Looping one arm through the crook of Ella’s elbow, Merry leaned her head on Ella’s shoulder and sighed. “Oh, Princess Buzzkill. Can’t you just enjoy the moment?”

  Ella pressed her lips together and went back to watching the horses pick their way through the grass. It wasn’t as if she was completely unaffected by the sight—there was something tantalizing and exhilarating about the animals. They’d look amazing on the cover of a brochure.

  But it was breezy out here, Merry didn’t have her jacket on, and Ella couldn’t shake the knowledge that their mother was waiting for them.

  However, Merry was determined to immerse herself in the moment, so Ella decided to give her a few minutes to get it out of her system.

  While they watched, the largest of the horses raised its head and perked its ears. Wind caught and tangled in its flowing black mane as the horse scented the air for a long, breathless moment before taking off at a loping canter, tail streaming behind like a pennant.

  The other horses, cued by their leader’s sudden flight, raced to catch up, and even from a hundred yards away, Ella felt the drumbeat of their hooves reverberate through the earth and up into her chest.

  Her breath caught as the horses galloped free and unfettered across the freshwater marsh. They crested a hill, and the big, black horse paused for a moment while the rest of the herd streamed past and out of view.

&n
bsp; Ella stared, transfixed, as the black horse turned and disappeared over the swell of the hill. Beside her, Merry hummed appreciatively, then did a little shimmy with her hips.

  “You know what? Since we’re stopped anyway, I’m going to sneak behind a bush and pee.”

  “What? You can’t do that! Merry!”

  Ella made a grab for her sister, who danced out of reach. She was surprisingly light on her feet for an about-to-pop pregnant chick.

  “Back in a sec,” Merry called out. “Keep watch for me!”

  Closing her eyes, Ella turned her back and scanned the stretch of empty road. The echo of the horses’ hooves still pounded through her chest, setting a rhythm for her heartbeat.

  Whirling back to face the marsh, Ella nearly stumbled against her car as a rangy, reddish-brown horse paced along the edge of the meadow and up to the side of the road.

  This wasn’t part of the band of wild horses, though—this one had a rider.

  A very tall, very broad, very male rider.

  And he was heading straight for her.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ella backed against her car door as the horse paced closer. She willed her gaze not to dart around searching for Merry—no need to draw attention to her sister, who might or might not be baring her behind to the breeze at this very moment.

  The man made a soft clucking noise in the back of his throat, and the horse stopped walking.

  “Are you lost?”

  The man’s voice was as rough as his stubbled cheeks, low and deep in a way that reached into Ella’s chest and messed with her breathing.

  He was big. Broad through the chest and shoulders, with powerful thighs that gripped his mount’s flanks, effortlessly controlling the huge, snorting animal he rode. Most of his face was shadowed by the brim of a battered white baseball cap, the fringe of hair spiking out from under it dark gold, like antique coins.

  Ella flinched when the horse stomped one massive hoof and blew out a loud breath. Large animals made her nervous. Heck, big men who appeared out of nowhere, in the middle of nowhere, made her nervous.