by Meg Tilly
“There aren’t.”
“So, why’d you go into macho-man mode?”
He shrugged, seemed a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I overreacted. Sorry about that. A cougar took down a sheep last week at Mick Decker’s farm and I—”
“A cougar? There are cougars on this island!” She was aware that her voice was getting a little shrill, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. “When I was worried the other night about the possibility of a bear attack, you failed to mention anything about cougars.”
“We normally don’t have them. Must have swum over from the mainland—”
“And you don’t think the fact that there’s a cougar prowling the island might be something I should be informed of?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out—”
“Believe me, I’m freaked out.”
Seventeen
“HOW’D IT GO?” Eve asked. She looked cozy, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a mug of tea on the side table, a small fire glowing in the fireplace.
“Did you know that there is a cougar on this island?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Eve said. “They generally don’t bother with people.”
“I’d have preferred it if you’d used the word ‘never’ in that sentence.” Maggie plopped down beside her. “What are you working on?” she asked, glancing over at Eve’s laptop.
“Hey, I’m on vacation. No work for me. I was just playing around, checking what local rents are like here on Solace. They’re really reasonable. We could rent a two-bedroom house for less than my portion of the rent back home.”
“Eve,” Maggie said, “moving here is a long shot. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Eve said with a grin, batting away Maggie’s concern like it was a pesky but harmless gnat. “I’m just having fun building castles in the air.” She scooted closer and angled her screen so Maggie could see it better. “After indulging my real estate curiosity, I posted a couple pictures of us on Instagram.” She scrolled down. “See, here’s us at our stall at the market. Cute, huh? And here’s you racing around cooking.”
“Technically, it’s not our stall. It’s Luke’s. He’s sharing it.”
“Pfft . . . mere semantics,” Eve said, waving her off. “And look, these photos haven’t been up for more than an hour, and we already have thirty-two likes and six comments.”
“Wow,” Maggie said. “That is a lot.”
“Yeah,” Eve said. “People love Solace Island, and they are nuts for the Saturday market. I don’t know most of these people, but the hashtags ‘solaceisland’ and ‘saturdaymarket’ called them out of the woodwork. Look, here’s some guy who lives in Amsterdam who commented. Amazing, huh? The world is such a small place. Hmm . . . He’s kinda cute, too.” Eve shut her laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “Well, enough about my successes,” she said, turning to face her sister. “How’d the evening go? What was he wearing? What was his place like?”
Maggie shrugged.
“Did your new look knock him off his feet?”
“Well,” Maggie said dryly, “someone was off their feet, but it wasn’t him.”
“Oh,” Eve said, clapping her hands. “So you do like him! I’m so glad. You know, when we were at the market, I could see the two of you together. So clearly. It was like you were a couple already. And the chemistry? Oh my God. Sparks were flying!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Maggie said, holding up a hand. “When I said ‘off their feet,’ I meant me. Literally.”
“What?” Eve looked confused.
“I fell,” Maggie said succinctly.
“You fell?”
“Yup. Flat on my face. A big ol’ belly flop with a skid, like I was heading for home plate. Although instead of home plate, I was lunging for these,” Maggie said, plucking the condoms from her purse and letting them dangle from her fingers. “I did find out, however, that he’s a quick counter.”
“Oh,” Eve said weakly. “So he’s good with numbers. That’s nice. You both like numbers. That’s something you have in common.”
“He’s even faster than me. It took one brief glance for him to compute that there were ten condoms. Not nine. Not twelve. Ten.” Maggie sighed, then stuffed the condoms back in her purse.
“I’m sorry, Maggs.”
“Nah, don’t be,” Maggie said, reaching over and patting her sister’s hand. “Actually, I found it rather sweet that you were looking out for me. Brett’s the only guy I’ve ever slept with, and we were monogamous—”
“No, sweetie,” Eve said, her eyes sad. “You weren’t.”
It took Maggie a moment to absorb that truth.
“Wow. Yeah. You’re right. I just thought we were.” She slumped back into the sofa. “I mean, I found out about Kristal, but only after Brett and I had broken up. I was so oblivious. He had an affair in my own office, right under my nose. Who knows who else he fucked? He could have gone through our entire female staff, for all I know.” Maggie leaped up from the sofa. “Jesus! If he didn’t wear a condom, I could be carrying all kinds of STDs!” She shuddered, waving her hands like she was trying to flick slime off. “Ick! What do I do? What do I do? I feel so dirty.”
Eve got up, gave her sister a hug. “We’ll go to a clinic tomorrow, and they can check you out.”
“Okay,” Maggie said, taking a big breath and letting it out. “You’re right. No sense borrowing trouble.”
“And before I forget,” Eve said, “speaking of ol’ fuck-face, his secretary called while you were out.”
“Whatever for?”
Eve shrugged. “Wanted our address. Brett had something he needed to send you. Scared me, though, when the phone rang. I had forgotten the cottage had one. By the way, why’d you give him our phone number? This is supposed to be a holiday.”
“I didn’t,” Maggie said, her stomach in knots. “He must have gotten it from someone at the office.”
Eighteen
“RELAX YOUR FIST now,” the lab technician said as she untied the tourniquet around Maggie’s biceps.
Maggie uncurled her fingers and watched as the glass vial began to fill with her blood. “So, this will do it?” she asked. “Cover the whole kit and caboodle?”
“Yes,” the lab technician replied. “Along with the urine sample and swab. And . . . we’re all done,” she said, easing the needle out.
“When will I get the results?”
“Since you haven’t been sexually active for several months, we should be able to have answers for you Wednesday, or Thursday at the latest, depending on how busy the lab is.”
Maggie tried not to think about it. She had done the necessary blood work. They had a urine sample and a swab from the inside of her mouth and from her cervix. Now it was out of her hands.
She kept herself busy: cozy teas and long talks with her sister, shopping excursions in town, ambles along the beach. Eve drove them by a couple houses for rent, just for fun. They picked up a Solace Studio Tour map and visited wineries, cheese makers, and artists who had galleries tucked into outbuildings behind their houses: some of them were talented, some of them not. “I could do this,” Eve would whisper as the two of them walked down the driveway to their car. They checked out bakers and sampled their wares; visited jewelry makers and sculptors, too. But whenever there was a lull in their activities, Maggie’s thoughts veered to the tests she had taken and the call that refused to come—and her stomach tightened.
Thursday afternoon, Maggie and Eve were hiking through Hobbs Park. The trail followed the rugged coastline, with lookout peaks of land where the ancient fir and cedar trees gave way to bedrock. There, the trees thinned out, only an occasional scrawny evergreen or arbutus managing to force its way through cracks in the slabs of sandstone, compound rocks, or sheets of granite. It must be hard, Maggie thought, to subsist on the meager portio
ns of nutrients that these solitary trees have access to.
Eve was bent over, studying the gnarled root structure that held one arbutus tree dangling over the cliff, the ocean crashing below, when Maggie’s phone rang, startling them both.
Usually, they had their phones switched off on their nature walks, but for the last three days, they had made an exception. Maggie knew it was probably a lost cause. A good portion of the island didn’t seem to be covered by her cell phone provider, but she was not going to waste several days of her vacation rigidly sticking only to the areas where a service bar showed on her phone.
“Don’t move,” said Eve, grabbing Maggie’s arm. Good advice, because literally two steps forward or backward on Solace Island could mean the difference between having a connection or not.
Maggie pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen. It was a local number. She said a hasty prayer and pressed answer, feeling shaky inside.
“Hello?”
“Hi. May I speak with Margaret Harris, please?”
“This is she,” Maggie said, biting her lip, glancing at her sister, who was standing stock-still, eyes wide.
“I’m from the clinic, and we just got your test results in. You are all clear.”
“All clear?” Maggie said, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.
“Yes. Not an STD in sight,” the woman said. “Have a nice day, now.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Maggie said, hanging up the phone. “I’m good,” she said to her sister. “I’m clear.” A huge smile spread across her face, mirroring the one Eve was wearing.
They did a happy jubilation dance right there on that bluff of land, whooping and hollering, legs and arms flinging out in all directions. “Let’s go to the Tree House to celebrate,” Eve said, her arm slung around Maggie’s shoulder as they turned to follow the trail that led back to the parking lot. “My treat.”
* * *
• • •
THE REPLACEMENT UV lightbulb Luke had ordered for his well purification system was in at Morgan’s Hardware Store. He drove into town to pick it up.
He was heading back to his truck when something made him glance to the right. A surge of satisfaction coursed through him. Maggie and her sister were just settling into a booth at the Tree House.
He decided then and there he was ravenously hungry, and a late-afternoon snack at the Tree House would satiate that need.
By the time he had deposited the bulb in his truck and entered the café, the women’s beverages were being placed on their table. He started to walk over to greet them, but was waylaid by a table of people leaving, gathering their sweaters, hugging and kissing each other good-bye.
“To fresh starts and new beginnings,” Luke heard Maggie’s sister say as she lifted a steaming mug of what looked like some kind of latte.
Maggie looked so happy. Practically glowing. If there were a way to harness and bottle the pure, sweet essence that was quintessentially Maggie, he’d be a very wealthy man. You already are, you idiot. Okay, then, a wealthier man.
Maggie clunked her mug against her sister’s. “To fresh starts, new beginnings, and,” she added, laughing, “no STDs!”
“Yes!” Eve said, pumping her free fist into the air in a victory celebration.
“Ahhh,” Luke said, casual as rain, as he stepped up to the table. “That explains why you ran out of my house Sunday night.”
Maggie swung around, choking on her drink. Eve looked up at him, merriment dancing in her eyes.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Go right ahead,” Eve said, gesturing to Maggie’s bench.
He slid in and patted Maggie on the back. “You okay there, sport?” he asked jauntily.
She nodded, eyes watery; she was still unable to speak, but otherwise she seemed fine.
“What were you talking about? Oh, yes, STDs. Hmm.” He nodded wisely. “That would explain the long string of condoms you brought over the other night. I’ve been thinking about that for the last few days. I aim to please, and I don’t think I’m a slouch in the sack, but . . . ten? I don’t think even a superhero could manage that in one night. I didn’t want my silence on the matter to misrepresent my . . . uh . . . abilities. But then, thank goodness, I figured it out. You prefer perhaps a layered approach?”
Eve was laughing now.
“I know,” he said, taking full advantage of Maggie’s inability to speak. “It seems like it would be safer to throw a couple on, but actually, research shows that more than one condom at a time compromises protection. Rips and tears can occur from the added friction.” He was enjoying himself mightily.
“All right,” Maggie croaked, holding up a hand. “Enough.”
“Okay,” he said. “No worries.” He paused, then leaned forward in a confidential manner. “Just one last question to appease my curiosity: why were we—”
“Maggie just got her test results back,” Eve said, despite her sister’s violent gestures from the other side of the table. “And, happily, she found out she’s STD-free.”
“You say that like I’ve been running around bonking everything that walks,” Maggie said indignantly, her cheeks flaming.
“No, darling,” Eve said dryly. “But your fiancé was.” She turned to Luke. “Our Maggie here is the unfortunate recipient of only one man’s inept labors.”
That statement hit him like a ton of bricks. “Seriously?”
“Jeeesus, Eve!” Maggie sputtered. “That’s private!”
He tried to wrap his mind around it. She was a twenty-seven-year-old woman, the founder of a successful business—he’d thought. Well, he’d been wrong. “One guy? One?”
Eve nodded.
He glanced over at Maggie, who was shrinking down in her seat, her neck disappearing into her shoulders. Not just her cheeks, but her neck and forehead were beet red as well.
“Hey,” he said, tipping down so she could see his face and know the teasing was over. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, it shows good judgment. You don’t leap into things lightly.”
“No,” Eve drawled. “She sure as hell doesn’t. I actually think it would do her some good to leap once in a while.” She flinched. “Oww!” she said loudly. “Stop kicking me under the table, Maggs.”
“Maggie,” Luke continued, knowing she must be embarrassed as hell. “Everyone is nervous going in for that kind of test. You should have seen me. I was a wreck, waiting for my results to come in.”
“Really?” Maggie said.
She looked so tentative. He wanted Maggie feeling happy and expansive.
“It was a year and a half ago, but just thinking about that time in my life makes me break out in a cold sweat.” His brain flashed to the last time he had seen Adyna, red silk gown, a cloud of dark hair, a blur through the glass, rain pounding down around them. He forced his mind back to the present. “See,” he said, keeping his voice steady, “you aren’t the only person to misjudge. To think you were in a monogamous relationship when you weren’t.” He wasn’t one for personal revelations, but some rules needed to be broken.
“And,” Eve interrupted, standing up, “I find I have a sudden need to check out the sales rack at Twang & Pearl.” She glanced at her watch. “You’ve got fifteen minutes, max. Then I’m gonna be back, because our food should be ready by then. We skipped lunch and I’m starving.”
“You don’t have to . . .” Maggie trailed off, because Eve was already halfway to the door. She looked at her hands twisting in her lap.
The waitress came by and took Luke’s order.
“Chicken Thai salad with peanut sauce. Coffee, black. Thanks.”
The waitress left.
Silence.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, her gaze still glued to her hands.
“Sorry I embarrassed you.”
She looked at him now, a shy smile on her face, and he could see all was forgiven. “You guys were just having fun.”
Still, he felt the need to acknowledge his part in her discomfort. “At your expense, and I’m sorry for that.”
She waved him off. “Nah, I embarrass easily.” Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry someone you loved wasn’t trustworthy as well.”
And hearing it put into those particular words somehow eased the perpetual knot in his gut.
He had lambasted himself countless times for being so gullible, for failing to run even the most basic security check on Adyna and her “brother,” Jasper, because “he had been in love.” All the signs of a sophisticated con had been there; he’d just refused to see them. A toxic cocktail of guilt and anger that he directed at himself, but at them, too, for playing him for a fool, and for what happened afterward. The aftermath.
And always, on the heels of that anger, came concern, almost to the point of nausea. His whole business had been founded on his ability to run massive, complex security checks and clearances, physical and personal. Every possible speck of minutia was inspected, nothing left to chance. His business had boomed because of his uncanny ability to find the unfindable and keep heads of state, government VIPs, members of Fortune 500 companies, and their families safe. He was counted on to know more, to see more, to have hypertuned instincts and reflexes. And yet in his personal life, he had failed colossally.
It was one of the reasons he’d passed the reins of the business over to his brother. He no longer had that cocky confidence and trust in the impeccability of his gut instincts. He’d let his personal life infect his professional life. As a result, in the field, he second-guessed himself and his decisions at every turn. He could no longer be in a line of work where a few seconds could mean the difference between life and death: for himself, for his clients, or for the men and women on his team. It had been clear he had to step down.
He remembered how difficult it had been to walk away from the company he’d built from the ground up. The early days had been tough. A high-wire juggling act of keeping the creditors at bay while trying to rustle up work. He’d felt responsible for the men who’d left secure jobs because they believed in him and what he was trying to do. Men who had wives and children to support. And there he was, flying by the seat of his pants, held afloat by sheer guts and duct tape, gambling with all of their lives. But he’d pulled it off. His company and the men who had been there from the start flourished. Everything had been going his way, and then he had slipped up.