He swam to the far side of the ship and dove down to release an emergency kit still strapped in its place. He surfaced, pulled a knife out, and quickly cut Tara loose.
She swam to him and kissed him with all the passion she had buried inside her for years.
It was his turn to smile at her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Where is Ben?” Julia asked through chattering teeth. Trevor had pulled her aboard the trawler and wrapped her in a blanket. She leaned over the side, searching for her friends.
Trevor was about to dive in again when they emerged.
“There they are!” Julia yelled. She smiled at Mike. “They’re coming ’round back now!” Julia knew it would be important to him to see Tara alive for himself. Mike grinned from ear to ear and raced to the back, reaching for Tara as soon as he saw her.
Sadly, they had to abandon the Sea Maiden where she lay. Given the storm, it was impossible to right the boat with her mast straight down, and only the small amount of air trapped underneath had kept her afloat at all. Their only hope was to recover her with a professional crew after the storm subsided—if they could find her again and if she survived.
But to Tara it was a small loss. She was alive! And Ben loved her! Mike stood at the helm while Ben sat by the heater, holding her in his lap. Trevor sat across from Julia, fuming.
Julia dried out her hair and looked up at him wearily. “Why don’t you say it?”
“What?”
“You’re obviously ticked. What?”
“You two should have known better!”
“Look, we made a mistake—”
“A mistake! This is the second ‘mistake’ to almost cost you your life, Julia! What if we hadn’t been out here looking for you? How long could you have held on to that rope? How long did Tara have?”
“We didn’t set out to get into an accident.”
Trevor stood and paced. “Of course not! But you were careless! You can’t expect me to be around every time you risk your life!”
Julia looked up at him, angry now. The others watched in silence. “No, Trevor, I don’t expect you to be around every time I get into trouble. How could I? You’re such a vagabond that nobody will ever tie you down to one place! How could I expect you to be around? How could I count on you?”
“How did this subject turn to me? It’s you who makes the bad decisions.”
“So you’ve never made any bad decisions in life?”
“A few,” he admitted without lowering his gaze. “But I never risked other people’s lives too!”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Of course not! But you don’t think through all your decisions, do you?”
Julia paused. “Are you trying to get at something?”
He paced the short floor several times.
“If you’re trying to get at something, just say it, Trevor. I’m tired of the word games. You obviously are too. Out with it.”
He stopped and stared at her. “Oh, why mess with it? I’ll be out of your hair in a few weeks and then we’ll both be better off, right?” He walked out the cabin door and into the storm without waiting for an answer.
“Right,” she said softly.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two weeks before the wedding, Julia tried on her great-grandmother’s wedding gown for the final time. The dress had been unearthed from an attic chest and remade to fit Julia’s taller and shapelier form. Sara, Anna’s daughter, had had fine taste. The dress was an exquisite mixture of silk organza, handmade lace, and tiny covered buttons. It had taken half an hour to get her into it. Remade, it fit Julia perfectly.
Trevor came in and found her standing at the top of the stairs in front of a huge antique mirror.
“What do you think?” she asked him. She continued to look in the glass, watching the reflection of his image, pretending his presence did not affect her. She reached for the veil and fit it over her head, arranging the netting over her face. So this is what it feels like to be a bride.
Trevor, deliberately and unhurried, walked over to Julia’s side. He gently took her right hand with his left and pulled her around to face him. Julia simply stared up into his eyes. Ever so slowly, he traced a gentle course, from her fingers to her wrists, along her elbows and shoulders. His actions sent shivers down her spine.
“What are you doing, Trevor?”
“What I should have done months ago,” he said, his voice low and earnest. Julia did not breathe as he continued to draw his fingers along the graceful curve of her neck. Silently, he pulled the delicate veil away from her face and settled it carefully over her head. Then he bent and met her lips with his own, kissing her first softly, then urgently, then softly again. His lips felt soft and sweet, not like Miles’s hard, pressing kiss.
She stood, her eyes closed, smelling the scent of Trevor’s skin, lost in the moment.
“Julia? Julia! What is going on?”
Julia spun around, not believing that it could be Miles’s voice she was hearing. “Miles! Miles, what are you doing here? You’re not due for another week.”
“So, if I had waited, I wouldn’t have seen you two kissing, is that it?”
“Miles—,” Trevor began.
“You shut up and get away from her.” Miles’s face was red with fury; the veins on his temples bulged.
“Look, man, I’m the one who kissed her. She did not come looking for me.”
“I should hope not! She’s wearing the gown she’ll be wearing in two weeks when we marry. I’d think it would be highly inappropriate for her to traipse around kissing any man who enters her path.”
“Miles!” Julia was, in fact, feeling guilty, torn over the fact that she had enjoyed Trevor’s kiss more than any other kiss she had ever experienced.
Miles ignored her. “Get away from her, Kenbridge! I knew you were after her from the start!”
Trevor stepped away from Julia and toward Miles. “Not a very smart man, are you, Miles? If you knew I had an eye for Julia, why’d you leave her alone for weeks on end? I wouldn’t leave a woman like her alone. Nothing could keep me away. Not a job, not anything. She would be first.”
“I didn’t want to get in the way of her dreams!” Miles paused and composed himself. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. The fact that I took unpaid leave to be here should say a lot.”
“Yeah. One last week to really sell her down the river, huh? You’re not interested in Torchlight for the same reasons Julia is. You just see investment potential. Maybe a condo here, maybe there—”
“Why you—” Miles lunged at Trevor in his best Ivy League football tackle position.
Not anticipating his attack, Trevor fell heavily under his opponent’s weight, but caught Miles’s fist as it sailed down toward his face.
“Stop it!” Julia yelled. “Knock it off!” She pulled at Miles’s shoulders, allowing Trevor to land a punch on his jaw. Miles fell, moaning.
“What have you done, Trevor? Miles, are you all right?”
Miles rose to attack Trevor again, stepping on Julia’s train in the process. She ignored the sickening rip of fabric and ran to stand between the men, pushing them away from each other. “Knock it off!”
“Julia, tell him to get out of here,” Miles said.
“No, Julia, tell him to take a hike,” Trevor said. “Tell him the truth. You’re really in love with me.”
She laughed at his arrogance. “Is that your declaration of love? I would’ve expected something much more poetic than a threat toward my fiancé. You’d better go. I think you’ve caused enough trouble.”
“You can’t tell me you’re still going through with it! Come on! You’ve known I was in love with you since I first saw you. I love the way you love this old house, the hard work you put into it. I love your determination and grit. I love how you’re loyal to the end and how you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Why else would I risk my life twice to save you?”
“As I remember, you
begrudgingly saved my life. You told me not to think you’d always be around.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what I heard. How much time have you ever spent in one place? Have you lasted longer than a year anywhere? Two? You say you would never leave a woman like me alone, but why? How could I trust a man who never stays? How do I know that that old wanderlust won’t come knocking and you’ll be off? I want a home, Trevor. And I want a man who stays.”
“Julia, what are you talking about?” Miles sputtered angrily. “You’re not actually entertaining thoughts of the two of you together, are you?”
“It’s different, Julia!” Trevor ignored him. “I was led here. I think God wants us together. We’ve come too far from two totally different places. We’ve come through too much.” His face begged her for a chance. “I don’t have any intention of leaving.”
“Not now, but maybe next year—”
“No. Not without you.”
“You say that now …,” she said, shaking her head sadly.
She looked at Miles, suddenly remembering he was present, and then to Trevor. “Trevor, can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“No,” Trevor said angrily, furious that she could not admit to a love so obvious. “I can’t live like this any longer. We all need a decision.”
“I need … I need some time. I’m so confused!”
“A decision, Julia.”
“Well, fine then, you force me to a decision! I’ll keep my wedding date with Miles.”
The following week would have been agony for Julia had she not had the wedding to distract her from Trevor. There were so many details, and she had, after all, made her decision. Seven days before the wedding, Julia awoke with a pounding headache and thought, Today he’ll leave.
Trevor is leaving. Will I ever see him again? Oh, who needs him? I need a steady man who will always be there for me, not a rogue who is off and running at the drop of a hat.
Later, Julia stood in the library, cleaning the leather-bound volumes, when she heard the rumble of his motorcycle, the pause of its engine, the slam of the front door, his steady footsteps into the room where she worked, and his heavy silence at the door.
Julia allowed him to watch her for several moments, pretending she did not know he was there.
“I have to leave,” he said, watching her miserably. In the soft golden light that filtered through the high windows, she looked angelic.
She paused, book in hand, but did not turn. “I know.”
“I think it’s best,” he said awkwardly.
“I know,” she repeated. “Will you leave a forwarding address?” Julia asked, fighting to keep hope from her tone. “I need to send you your final paycheck. Your things too, I assume.”
“I’ll write,” he said.
She nodded and resumed her work.
He turned and did not look back.
“Come on, darling, we’re late already,” Miles said, as Julia paused to straighten her red cocktail dress. After months at Torchlight, she had grown unaccustomed to dresses and high heels, but Miles had wheedled her into wearing the outfit. “You look lovely,” he said, brushing her cheek with his lips. “I’ll be the envy of every man in the room.”
They entered the private dining hall of a swanky San Francisco nightclub, where a roomful of Miles’s associates hailed them with the clink of champagne flutes and cocktail glasses. Miles called the evening an “obligatory social gathering,” a function that served to honor their impending nuptials and help him gain greater stature by throwing the party of parties.
Miles had outdone himself. Waitresses passed by continuously, carrying trays laden with Chinese pot stickers, salmon and cream cheese with capers and thinly sliced onion on tiny French baguette slices, shrimp on Belgian endive leaves sprinkled with fresh dill, melted brie on pastry, and three kinds of caviar. At the same time, waiters generously provided glasses of champagne and cocktails as fast as the guests could consume them.
By the time Julia and Miles arrived, the party was in full swing. Before long, he was off to talk with one of the senior partners at his former law firm, and Julia realized he would not return anytime soon. A friend of Miles made a subtle pass at her, and she looked over to where her fiancé stood. He was oblivious, concentrating only on the older man who was patting him on the shoulder and calling colleagues over to join them.
“Come on, honey,” the man slurred. “Let’s dance.” He pulled her onto the dance floor. Julia knew Miles expected her to handle herself in these situations. This wasn’t the first celebration in which she had been forced to take care of herself. It certainly would not be her last.
Three hours later Julia’s feet were aching, and her back was screaming for her to go home and lie down. How quickly she had grown used to the slow and melodic pace of Oak Harbor! Julia longed to get undressed, pull on her old blue bathrobe, and snuggle into one of the high-backed chairs for a good read of Anna’s journals.
Julia plastered a smile on her face for the cake cutting, a preliminary wedding festivity to compensate for the fact that few of Miles’s coworkers would journey to the East Coast for his wedding. She was glad for any distraction from the drunken man who kept hanging around her as well as around her mother, Eleanor, who had just arrived and wanted to run through every detail of the wedding.
They sliced through the white frosting, but her eyes saw only the tiny bride and groom atop the layers. For the first time, she visualized joining Miles at the altar, and the image terrified her.
“Julia?” Miles paused with a bite of cake in front of her mouth, looking nervously to the crowd watching them. “Open wide, darling.”
She managed to open her mouth and accept the morsel. Why do people getting married feed each other cake? What does it mean anyway? She felt cross and belligerent but smiled sweetly as she fed Miles his portion. His teeth loomed large, and she noticed how thin his lips were. Not like Trevor’s. How will I like a lifetime of kissing those lips?
Julia fought a wave of dizziness as the people cheered and Miles smiled. Bits of frosting clung to the corners of his mouth as he dipped her low in a fancy dance move and kissed her again. She fought the revulsion. What is happening here?
“Mother,” she said. “I need to go to the rest room. Come join me.” They made their way through the huge group to the women’s rest room. Julia gripped Eleanor’s arm as soon as they were inside.
“Mother, I think I’ve made a huge mistake! I got dizzy thinking of kissing Miles, and the sight of him almost repulses me!” She sat down heavily in a plush couch. Cigarettes overflowed from a table ashtray beside her.
“Oh, nonsense, Julia! Haven’t you ever heard of prewedding jitters? I had them myself. I didn’t think I’d make it down the aisle. But look what I would’ve passed up! Your father is a prince, and so is Miles. You two were made for each other,” she purred, sitting beside her daughter. “You just wait. Next week you’ll be a different person. Be glad you’re going through it now rather than during the ceremony.”
“You wondered if Dad was the right man for you during the ceremony?”
“Well, yes. I had numerous suitors at the time, you see. I chose Jacob because he was my best choice. And I was right. You adore your father, as do I. To think I could’ve married that Jack Stanford … You should hear the tales I’ve heard! And I came so close to saying yes to his proposal! Just last week I heard—”
“Mother, did you love Daddy?”
“Of course I loved him!”
“I mean, were you totally gone, never coming back, hopelessly and forever in love with Daddy?”
“That’s the love of schoolgirls! My love for your father was much more quiet, peaceful, reassuring.”
Julia acknowledged the news without comment. Her folks had developed a pleasant union. But what had been sacrificed to get to that point? Had Eleanor denied a love that should have lived? Was Julia about to head down the same path?
“Listen, sweetheart. Everythi
ng’s in place. You’ve known Miles for years. You’ll have a happy marriage and all the things you deserve. Come now, we mustn’t keep the guests waiting any longer. Your groom will think we’ve up and run off on him.”
Trevor waited for his cousin Bryn to return. It was eleven, and he had been on the hot cement stairs of her brownstone apartment for hours. It was sweltering hot, and his clothes were sticking to every inch of him. Several of the other tenants had looked at him askance as they made their way into the brownstone. If he stayed much longer, the landlord would probably call the cops. He had meant to explain his presence, but lacked the energy.
Maybe Bryn was out of town. It was summer; she had talked about going to Alaska. Or maybe she had a shift at the hospital. He hoped that was it. He needed to talk to her. And a couch to sleep on.
At eleven-thirty, a taxi pulled up and Bryn hopped out, still dressed in scrubs. “Trevor!” she greeted him in surprise. He stood, wearily, to hug her. “What’s wrong?”
He smiled ruefully. “Never could pass anything by you, cousin.”
“Nope. Come in. You have your bag? I take it you’re spending the night.”
“That okay?”
“Fine, fine. Let’s grab an iced tea and sit out on the fire escape. Try and grab some semblance of a breeze. It’s hot, isn’t it?”
“It’s so hot I could fry eggs on the sidewalk.”
“Come on,” she gestured with a nod of her head. “You can tell me all about it.” They trudged upstairs to her third-story apartment.
On the dining room table, her tapered candles had melted to sad droops. “It’s gotta be a thousand degrees,” Bryn moaned, pouring them both tall glasses of tea. “No sane people live in Boston during the summer without air conditioning.”
“Only the insane and residents at the hospital, right?”
“Not next summer. If I’m still here, I’ll be making the big bucks. I’m going to be sitting back in my high-design chair, listening to my stereo, with the air conditioner set at sixty. Cool as a cucumber,” she said, raising her sweating glass of tea to her sweating brow. She looked him over, from head to toe. “So. Why are you here, unannounced?”
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