Surrender to Marriage

by Sandra Field

  Waves reared from the sea like great white stallions, their manes of foam strung out by the gale. The noise was deafening. Exhilarated, momentarily forgetting her sore heart and tangled nerves, Shaine battled her way beyond the shed. She’d go as far as the first cove, where she could watch the water slam into the rocks.

  In the cove, wave collided with wave and spray hissed against granite; great sheets of marbled water flung themselves at the face of the cliff, only to slide back in a tumble of foam. Shaine curled her fingers around the trunk of an embattled spruce, fighting for balance. If she went just a little further, she might catch a glimpse of Ghost Island. The surf there should be magnificent.

  Her boots slopped through water that in places was ankle-deep. Hands deep in her pockets, she licked her lips where fresh water and salt were mingling. Like tears, she thought with a superstitious shiver, and remembered how many tears she had shed in those first weeks after Jake had left the cove.

  She wasn’t going to think about Jake. She’d been thinking about him all day. Enough was enough.

  The inshore reefs had vanished under huge waves that rolled imperiously toward the cliffs. High tide, she thought, and hoped Devlin’s boat was well moored to the lee of the wharf.

  She was halfway to the rocks; she should turn back. A cup of tea was beginning to seem like a very good idea, particularly as her waterproof jacket was no longer living up to its claim. Besides, her hands were cold.

  Then, at the edge of the cliff, she noticed a clump of flowers, their small purple bells bowed into the dirt. On impulse she stepped closer, stooping to pick them so she could enjoy them indoors. And felt the ground move beneath her feet.

  For a split second she thought she was imagining that eerie sensation of having nothing firm to stand on. Wasn’t that how she’d been feeling for days, ever since she’d come back from Jake’s beautiful house in the Hamptons? But then, in a shaft of terror, she realized that the edge of the cliff was breaking loose, weakened by rain and spray. She grabbed for the nearest clump of grass. It slipped through her wet fingers; with a cry of fear she felt herself sliding inexorably downward. Desperately she lunged for the nearest juniper, her boots scrabbling for a hold in a mix of mud and stones. Then she was skidding in the mud, rocks scraping her palms and her cheek.

  Below her, the ocean roared with primeval rage.

  Daniel, she thought. Oh God, Daniel…and Jake. Jake whom she loved.

  With an impact that jarred her whole body, Shaine’s feet slammed into a boulder. Stones skittered past her, to plunge into the sea. The mud was cold, glued to her face. But she had stopped falling.

  Her breath sobbing in her lungs, her nails digging for a hold, she flattened herself to the cliff face. Her heart was hammering against her ribs; she knew panic was only seconds away, and fought it down with all her willpower. Very carefully, she looked downward.

  Her eyes winced away from the melee of water. Her boots had hit an outcrop of granite, large enough and well enough wedged into the cliff to support her weight.

  Barring another mudslide, she was safe.

  But how long before anyone came to look for her? Daniel wouldn’t be home tonight. Jake wasn’t arriving until tomorrow. There was no reason why Devlin, Padric or Connor should call on her.

  Did she have the strength to last here all night? To stay awake so that she wouldn’t tumble from the rock into the sea?

  With another whimper of fear, Shaine laid her cheek to the cliff. Jake, she thought. Somehow Jake would send help. Because he loved her. As she, of course, loved him.

  She closed her eyes and her ears, willing away the savage waves and the wicked shrieks of the wind. Wasn’t Jake both the storm she was driven to enter and the safe harbor she craved?

  She’d never stopped loving him; it had taken a hurricane and a mudslide to show her that. She’d tried, heaven knows. She’d fought against her love, and had, eventually, convinced herself that she’d exiled him completely from her life. That he no longer meant anything to her.

  That’s what she’d told him in that peaceful little room overlooking the inlet, and that’s what she’d believed to be true.

  But she’d been wrong. Only now, terrified that she might die before she could tell him she loved him, did she realize how deluded she’d been. Her love for Jake was the underlying current of her life, the ocean in which she swam, the wind through her soul.

  Her cold fingers tightened their grip. She had to tell him. She had to. She couldn’t bear for him to go through the rest of his life thinking she’d destroyed the love they’d once shared.

  She let her mind drift back to that lovely octagonal room. She and Jake were eating breakfast in the early morning sunlight. They’d made love in the night, and that memory was there in their faces and their bodies. And then Daniel slouched into the room, hungry as always, his casual grin speaking of an underlying happiness that his mother and his father loved each other, and that all three of them were making a home together…

  Jake was driving down Breakheart Hill into Cranberry Cove. His car radio was rattling on about Hurricane Brenda. Jake wasn’t about to argue. Fighting to keep his vehicle on his side of the road, through driving sheets of rain he caught glimpses of the barrens, stained scarlet by the blueberry shrubs, and of feathery gold tamaracks flailing in the wind. Welcome home, he thought wryly.

  He’d come a day early, thinking he’d arrive before the storm. But he’d been wrong.

  This was Saturday. He and Shaine were getting married on Monday. Tomorrow his mother and stepfather were arriving from Sydney to help celebrate his wedding.

  Celebrate, he thought. It didn’t seem like the right word. Although his mother had been predictably delighted to hear he was getting married.

  Would he ever forget Daniel’s lopsided grin when they’d told him about the wedding? The way the boy had hugged him? He had to hold on to that. Because ever since that Saturday night in the Hamptons, Shaine had felt a million miles away.

  As he’d made his way through a maze of documents and details, she’d been cooperative and cold as ice. That she was regretting her decision to marry him was evident. She’d assured him she was acting like a happy prospective bride with Daniel and her brothers; but when she was talking to him, Jake, on the phone late at night, the front dropped and her true feelings came out.

  Was he making the worst mistake in his life, an even worse one than his precipitate departure from the cove all those years ago? Was forcing Shaine to marry him a risk he shouldn’t take?

  He crept along the deserted village streets. The power was on; the yellow gleam of lights through an afternoon as gloomy as dusk was oddly comforting. Shaine’s house was also lit up. Every muscle in his body tight with tension, Jake parked, grabbed his briefcase and ran for the door.

  He didn’t bother knocking. Swiping rain from his face, his jeans in that short distance plastered to his legs, he opened the kitchen door and called, “Shaine? It’s Jake.”

  She wasn’t home; he knew it instantly. Refusing to see this as a premonition, he shucked off his shoes and went into the kitchen, where he found a note Daniel had taped to the refrigerator. Daniel was invited to an overnight birthday party on Saturday for his friend Art and had finished off the loaf of raisin bread and the leftover corned beef hash.

  Today was Saturday. Jake’s spirits lifted. They were doing this for Daniel. He had to remember that.

  Where was Shaine? He hadn’t planned to arrive until tomorrow, so she wasn’t expecting him. She could be anywhere in the village.

  Her car, he remembered, had been parked by the house. So she was somewhere close. Checking, he saw that her rain jacket was gone from the back porch, as were her rubber boots. On impulse he picked up the phone and dialed Devlin’s number. “She was planning on being home,” Devlin said, puzzled. “She wanted to work on a project in her studio. I’ll call around and see if I can find her.”

  Shaine’s studio was a litter of sketches, the photos she’d taken of th
e craters on Tenerife spread among them. Jake could almost sense her presence, and felt a chill travel his spine. She was drinking tea with a neighbor. Of course she was.

  Rain slashed the windowpanes, the gale moaning around the eaves. Repetitively, a loose shingle scraped at the roof. Like fingernails scrabbling for a hold, thought Jake, and in sudden cold terror knew Shaine was in trouble.

  The telephone rang, making him start. “Can’t seem to find her anywhere,” Devlin said. “But I’ll keep trying. She didn’t seem herself the last while, I’ll say that…but not even my crazy sister would be out on the cliffs in this kind of blow.”

  “I’m going out there to check,” Jake said. “If I’m not back in half an hour, come looking for me, will you?”

  “Will do,” Devlin said with a lack of surprise that sharpened Jake’s sense of urgency. Zipping up his jacket, grabbing the biggest flashlight on the porch, he stepped out into the storm.

  He knew every inch of the cliff path. But the rain blinded him, the wind playing with him as if he were weightless; underfoot, the ground was sodden, the last flowers flattened and crushed. He struggled on, pausing every now and then to shout Shaine’s name, his voice tossed out to sea like the scream of a wounded gull.

  She couldn’t be out here.

  But wasn’t this the place she always came for comfort? For strength?

  His unease deepened. He pushed it down as he passed the cove with its lashing waves and seethe of foam. He’d go as far as the clump of granite rocks where he’d first confronted Shaine with the knowledge that Daniel was his son; then he’d turn back. In the meantime, Devlin would have left a message to say Shaine was visiting a friend.

  He was making a fool of himself venturing out on the cliffs in a hurricane. Was he equally a fool to make Shaine marry him? One of the things he loved most about her was her fiery spirit. So what was he trying to do? Tame her to his will? Break that spirit?

  That would be the cruelest thing he could do to her.

  Tripping over a tussock of grass because he wasn’t watching where he was going, Jake swore under his breath and toiled on. He’d have to talk to her. Surely, between them, they could work something out.

  Directly ahead of him the path had been washed away, disappearing in a tumble of rocks, exposed mud and uprooted grass. His heart slammed in his chest, all his premonitions coalescing into an overwhelming dread. He approached the crevasse with exquisite care. Dropping to his knees, he peered over the edge.

  A woman in a blue rain jacket was clinging to the face of the cliff, her feet anchored on an outcrop of boulders. Below her, the waves heaved themselves upward and surf swarmed the rocks. He tried to shout her name, but his voice was caught in his throat.

  Then Shaine looked up, her face a pale oval in the gathering darkness. Although Jake could see her lips moving, he couldn’t distinguish her words through the howling wind. His eyes like gimlets, he sought a pathway through the mud and loose rocks, a way of reaching her; and found nothing. If he tried to slide down the cliff toward her, there was a huge risk he’d start another mudslide, sending both of them to their deaths on the rocks below. Even if he was successful in landing on the granite outcrop, there was no chance the two of them could climb up to safety. No footholds. No handholds. And always, waiting for them, the wild and hungry sea.

  He had to leave her alone and get help.

  Had he ever made a more difficult decision in his life?

  Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled, “I’ll go for help. Hold on—I’ll be as quick as I can. Shaine, I love you.”

  Did she smile at him? He couldn’t tell. He hated leaving her alone and in such danger; it tore the heart from his chest. But there was no other choice.

  Backing away from the ugly tear in the ground, he got to his feet and started to run. Devlin would have ropes. Connor would help. And Padric, he thought, would curse the broken leg that condemned him to inactivity.

  Jake pounded along the path, splashing through the puddles; and as he ran, he focused all his energy on Shaine. Hang on, he prayed. Be safe. Daniel needs you, and so do I. Oh God, so do I.

  As he rounded the woodshed, he saw Devlin coming down the steps of Shaine’s house. Jake grabbed the other man by the sleeve and tugged him into the shed out of the wind. His breath heaving in his chest, he gasped, “We need ropes—she’s partway down the cliff, there was a mudslide.”

  “There’s rope in my car. I’ll call Connor and get him over here along with some of his buddies. Is she hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “The first-aid kit’s in the back porch.”

  Within five minutes Jake, Devlin, Connor and two burly friends of Connor’s were heading back along the path. Jake set a killing pace; it still felt like forever before they arrived at the mudslide. He knelt by the edge of the crevasse and with a great thud of his pulse saw the woman clinging like a limpet to the cliff face. Her upturned face swamped him with such a wave of emotion that he was momentarily dizzy.

  Using his fisherman’s skill with knots, Devlin quickly fashioned a harness from the rope he’d brought. Then he, Jake and Connor lowered it over the cliff. It blew from one side to the other, catching in the mud; his heart in his mouth, Jake watched Shaine grab for it, miss it and almost lose her balance. But on the second try, she brought the harness in close to her body. Leaning into the cliff, she inched it over her shoulders to her waist. Then she signaled with one hand.

  “Okay, guys,” Devlin said, only the faintest catch in his voice revealing his tension. “Move back from the edge real slow and pull like you never pulled in your life.”

  Shaine’s hands had grasped the rope, which was also cinched around her waist; from his stance near the edge, Jake could only imagine her feet leaving the safety of the boulder and dangling in the air. He leaned backward, pulling with all his might. She was being lifted with agonizing slowness; he hated to think how the rope must be digging into her flesh.

  The muscles in his arms and shoulders tightened unbearably. But step by step the five men were moving away from the cliff, deeper and deeper into the grass. Where the ropes were sawing into the mud, rocks broke loose, to tumble to the sea.

  Devlin yelled, “Hold ’er there, boys. Jake, check on Shaine, see how close she is.”

  Her face was only three feet from the edge. Jake waved for the men to start pulling again, and added his own strength to the taut yellow rope, the skin on his palms burning. As one boot skidded in the wet grass, he dug his heels in and pulled still harder. And then Shaine was wriggling over the edge and moments later was lying facedown on the grass. Jake dropped the rope, seized her by the waist and tugged her well away from the cliff.

  His breathing harsh in his ears, he eased the harness from her body. “Shaine,” he gasped, “are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. She too was fighting for breath, her cheeks filthy with mud, her hair darkened by the rain and clinging to her scalp. Jake gathered her close, pressing her face into his chest, overwhelmed with gratitude that she was alive and in his arms.

  It could so easily have been otherwise.

  Devlin shouted, “We should get her home. I’ll go ahead and get hold of Doc.”

  Connor helped Jake to his feet. Holding Shaine in his arms, Connor ahead of him, Jake stumbled toward the cluster of houses with their yellow-lit windows.

  Two hours later, Jake and Shaine were finally alone in the house. When they’d first arrived, she’d insisted on phoning Daniel, not wanting him to hear what had happened from anyone else, and had assured him that he should stay at the party. After Doc had checked her over and cleaned her scrapes, he’d lectured her about foolhardiness and taken his leave. Devlin and Connor had then, more colorfully, repeated Doc’s message. She’d thanked them all, listening to their unflattering assessments of her character with a meekness that had amused Jake.

  He went to the door with Devlin, who was the last to leave. “Thanks,” Jake said roughly.

  Devlin grin
ned at him, cuffing him on the shoulder. “See you at the wedding,” he said. “I don’t get my good suit out for everyone.”

  The door closed behind him. Jake, who didn’t want any interruptions, took the precaution of locking it. Then he went upstairs to Shaine’s bedroom. He had no idea what he was going to say to her; but he couldn’t bear for her to be out of his sight for even a minute.

  She was lying back on the pillows, her hair a tangle of curls, her cheeks still too pale. Her flowered cotton nightgown could have belonged to a maiden aunt. As she smiled at him, Jake’s heart turned over with love. He dropped onto the bed, seized her hands in his and buried his face in her lap. No power in the world could have stopped the shudders that racked him from head to toe.

  Shaine curved her body over his, her forehead resting on his shoulder. “It’s all right, I’m safe,” she whispered. “You saved my life, Jake—I don’t think I could have hung on all night.”

  He fought back the nightmare images. The clutch of her fingers was real; she was safe, in her own bed. He kissed the pulse on her wrist in a passion of gratitude, striving to pull back from emotions so strong they frightened him. “You must be hungry,” he muttered, pushing himself up and managing a smile. “Daniel appears to have left some homemade soup in the refrigerator—what was the matter, didn’t he like it?”

  “The soup can wait,” she said. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  She was going to ask him to cancel the wedding; he knew it. He kept her hand in his, playing with the slender, capable fingers where dirt was still ground under her nails. “It’s okay—I’ve figured out on my own that I shouldn’t have bulldozed you into this wedding. I’m really sorry, I just wasn’t thinking straight. We’ll cancel it and we’ll work something out, surely we can do that between us. Whatever happens, I swear I’ll do my best to be a good father to Daniel and to support you in any way I can.”

  Pressing his lips into her palm, feeling the warmth of her skin, he added, “Thank God I came a day early. If you’d fallen and drowned…I don’t know how I’d have lived without you. Because I love you more than I can say, that hasn’t changed.” He smiled straight into her eyes. “Probably never will.”