by JoAnn Ross
Walking back to the cabin, he reran the brief conversation over and over again in his mind, reliving every word, every gesture, like putting them under one of those microscopes Fred had brought to camp to show them all the things living in the lake water.
His mother had always been a small woman, but when he hugged her, she felt—he searched for the word—frail. Was she too thin? Had she been sick? She was wearing a sleeveless blouse and he couldn’t see any new lines on her arms. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t taking pills. Not the ones she was supposed to take. But the ones she’d get on the street to help quiet the voices.
She promised that she was all better. That she’d been through rehab and had her life back on track.
And where had he heard that before?
As the moon rode across the night sky, Johnny lay on the top bunk, Angel snuggled up beside him, listening to the faint sigh of the wind in the towering trees outside the cabin and the sound of water rushing over the rocks. And although he knew that daring to wish for any normality was like spitting in the wind, he hoped it was true.
His mom had told him when Angel was born that he was the big brother now, the man of the family, and it was his responsibility to protect his sister. Which he’d promised to do.
Which hadn’t always been easy. Like the time the social worker told him that Angel wasn’t going to be his sister anymore. He hadn’t understood how that could happen. Of course she was his sister. He’d been at the hospital with his grandmother when Angel had been born.
But according to the woman, someone wanted to adopt Angel. He remembered her sounding surprised by that. So, legally, once the adoption was final, she’d have a brand-new name and belong to a new family.
That was the first time he’d run away. He’d gone to the house where she’d been living, where he’d been allowed to visit her once, on her last birthday. But when he arrived, it was already too late. She was gone.
He’d failed. Even worse, he’d worried what his mother would think when she came back and discovered that she had only one child, not two.
He’d felt like the worst son in the world. It was the first time he’d stopped talking, because what excuse could he give? How could he have let Angel and his mother down so badly? There were no words to make things better.
The police found him sleeping in an alley in Corvallis and took him back to DHS. Since he was considered a runaway threat, instead of placing him with another family, they’d put him into a group home, which was pretty much as close as he could get to going to jail without actually committing a crime that got him locked up in juvie.
Johnny hadn’t cared. It was what he deserved.
But then, one day, after he’d been there about a month, he’d gotten called to the front office, where a new social worker told him that she’d gotten him a new placement. He hadn’t cared about that, either. It wasn’t as if any of them were really homes. One was pretty much the same as another.
But there was more. The social worker confided that things hadn’t worked out as well as everyone had hoped with Angel. So she was back in foster care. Which meant she was his sister again.
The news was the next-best thing she could have told him. The best news would have been that their mom was okay and was waiting outside in the car to take them both away with her. Which she wasn’t.
He’d asked the social worker if she knew where Angel was staying. She hadn’t, but promised to check. She also promised to arrange a visit. Something that never happened, because shortly after that, the woman had moved on to other kids, and his new social worker claimed to know nothing about any visit.
And now their mom was back. And, if she was telling the truth, she was finally all better and she, Angel, and he were going to live together like normal people. Which was all he’d always wanted.
What he’d been waiting for what seemed like his entire life to happen.
So why did he feel like he was in one of those Halloween haunted houses, waiting for the zombie to leap out at him?
With his mind spinning like a leaf in one of those eddies below Rainbow Falls, Johnny failed to notice the faint scent of cigarette smoke drifting in from the cabin’s living room, where Crystal Harper sat alone in the dark, sitting vigil over her children.
45
“I don’t understand it.” Amanda was back to pacing, making Charity glad the floor was hardwood, because she undoubtedly would have worn a path in any carpeting by now. “I’m not the guilty party in this situation. Why would Benton be punishing me like this?”
“What makes you think he’s punishing you?”
“Surely you don’t think it’s merely a coincidence that he disappeared from the face of the earth after I refuse to answer my phone?”
She shook her head as she looked out the window, over the harbor, toward the bridge leading to the coast. As if she could look across the vast blue Pacific to the Hawaiian Islands and spot her errant husband.
She suddenly went white as the sails on the boats docked at the marina. “I just had a horrible thought.”
“What?” From her mother’s pallor, Charity suspected she’d stopped thinking about herself long enough to focus on another possibility.
“What if he hasn’t run off with the bimbo? What if something terrible has happened to him?”
“He checked out of his hotel room.” Using his network of connections, Gabe had found a former Marine who was now a Maui cop, who’d checked out the judge’s hotel. “The front-desk clerk said he’d appeared to be alone when he’d checked in. And there weren’t any signs of violence,” Charity reminded her.
“I believed we had such a good marriage,” Amanda said for the umpteenth time. She seemed more bewildered than angry.
Charity couldn’t blame her. Hadn’t she felt the same way when she’d discovered how Ethan had betrayed her? So much of that day was still a blur. But she could definitely remember the pain.
“It looked that way to me.” She crossed the room and smoothed her hands over her mother’s shoulders. Even as they were slumped in discouragement, she could feel the boulderlike tangle of muscles beneath her fingertips.
A sailboat skimmed across the water, the red, green, and white running lights reminding Charity a bit of Christmas. Which, in turn, had her wondering if Gabe would still be in Shelter Bay when December came around.
Fat chance of that.
Since he didn’t have an actual home to return to, he’d probably spend the winter somewhere warm. Maybe South America. Or perhaps Costa Rica. She knew a vet who’d set up a practice in the capital city of San José and swore the country was paradise on earth. Maybe he’d head for the spun-sugar beaches of Mexico.
“We were going to sail around the world,” Amanda said, dragging Charity’s mind back from a mental video of Gabe drinking salt-rimmed margaritas and making love with some sexy señorita with flashing dark eyes who knew more ways to seduce a man than Charity could learn in a lifetime.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking of something. About your situation,” she said, not quite truthfully. “What did you say?”
Surely she’d heard wrong. Her mother was the last person she’d imagine sailing around the world. Unless she was on a luxury yacht with a full crew doing all the work while she sipped mimosas and worked on her tan.
“When Benton retires from the bench, he intends to buy a blue-water sloop. We were planning to spend a year just sailing the globe.”
“Is that something you’d really want to do?”
Her mother had a lifelong habit of taking on the characteristics she thought her husbands would want in a wife. But since they were often at direct odds with her own vibrant personality, it was little wonder the marriages hadn’t worked out.
“I know it sounds absurd.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, she managed a wry smile. “I certainly thought so when he brought it up the first night we went out to dinner. But until I went out on the boat with him, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed sailing with my fath
er.”
Charity decided this was not the time to point out that the grandfather she’d never known had died on a trip much like the one Benton was suggesting.
“Since we’ve spent so much time on the water, I decided it sounded like a grand adventure,” Amanda said.
“I can’t deny that.” Not one she’d be at all interested in, yet her mother had seemed different and far more carefree the day they’d all spent out on the boat.
“But now it’s too late.”
“No.” Charity’s own life might be in flux right now, but of this she was absolutely certain. “It’s only too late if you don’t tackle whatever problems the two of you might have. By having an adult conversation and seriously addressing the issues.”
“It’s difficult to address the issue if I can’t find him,” Amanda pointed out with a flare of her usual spirit, which Charity found encouraging.
“If you really want to make things work with your husband, then you should go for it.”
Amanda lifted her chin. Renewed determination flashed in her eyes. “I intend to.”
Then she sighed and looked out the window again at the boat skimming beneath the bridge. “But first I have to find him.”
46
Gabe couldn’t sleep. After calling Charity one last time to let her know that the Marine-turned-cop had tracked down a guy who’d sold the judge a thirty-six-foot sloop, which apparently had been his actual reason for flying to Hawaii in the first place, he’d lain awake, thinking about her fathomless green eyes, her silky skin, the soft little sounds she made while making love.
No. They hadn’t been making love. It was sex. Okay, maybe it was the best sex he’d had in . . . well, forever . . . but it would be a mistake to read too much into it.
After all, she wasn’t the only one who’d been celibate for way too long. It only made sense that they’d be explosive.
But it was more than just sex. He honestly liked her, and although they might seem like polar opposites, he realized they actually had more in common than even she might be willing to admit.
He liked being around her. Liked talking with her. Liked watching her with the dogs and kids, which had him picturing her in that rich, full family life she’d admitted she wanted here in Shelter Bay.
He could understand why she’d chosen the town. It was quiet, yet lively in its own way with all the interconnections between its residents. There’d been a time when Gabe would have considered such a lack of privacy intolerable. But viewing it as he might through the lens of his camera, watching the interactions of all the volunteers at the camp with the eye of a professional, uninvolved observer, he realized it was the way the community worked. The same way people would come together to help a fellow resident in need, they’d also feel free to engage in discussions of that same person’s personal life. He figured those who’d chosen to live here considered it a reasonable trade-off.
However, although he was surprised to be actually enjoying his time here in Shelter Bay, his days with Charity, the kids at the camp, and even her mother, who might be a drama queen but whose intentions tended toward good, he’d leave it—and them—as he’d left other towns, and other people.
Moving on was what he did. Washington was waiting for him—gleaming white ferryboats plying the waters of Puget Sound, glaciers and rain forests. All those Gore-Tex-wearing people drinking their lattes and chai teas.
Then there was Alaska—oil fields, more glistening glaciers, fishermen. Even after he finished up in the Aloha State, there was still a big wide world waiting for him to explore.
And if that nagging little voice in the back of his mind suggested that maybe he was running away from something, rather than running toward it, Gabe ignored it.
47
After tossing and turning, spending way too much of her night thinking about Gabriel, Charity dragged herself out of bed and, fortified with about a gallon of coffee nearly strong enough to stand a spoon up in, performed two surgeries—a Siamese cat spay and a Dalmatian’s tooth cleaning.
After handing the clinic off to the afternoon fill-in vet, she was standing behind the reception counter, checking tomorrow’s schedule, when Kelli and Cole walked in.
“You’re back!” She came around the desk and hugged Kelli. “Wow, you’re tan!”
The new bride smiled prettily and practically preened. “We got in last night. As for the tan, it’s all that fabulous Hawaiian sun. I wish I could have bottled it to bring back with me.”
“Considering that Oregonians tend to rust rather than tan, you could probably sell it and make a fortune,” Charity said. “Especially come February. What can I do for you?”
“We’re here to ask about adopting a puppy,” Cole said.
“We want to start a family as soon as we can.” Kelli beamed up at her new husband. The stars in her eyes told Charity that their honeymoon had been a smashing success. “Now that Cole’s finally out of the service, we don’t want to waste any more time.”
“Kelli read that it’s best to have a dog settle in before the baby arrives.”
“I’d agree with that,” Charity said. “Especially if you’re set on a puppy, which is a lot of work. You’re going to have to housebreak it, and train it not to chew up your furniture and shoes, and baby toys, and it’s going to have to go out and be walked, and cleaned up after, and . . .”
“Gee.” Kelli’s previously dazzling smile faded in wattage. “It sounds as if you’re trying to talk us out of the idea. But everyone knows you want to find every homeless animal in the county a home.”
“I do,” Charity said. “But I want it to be a forever-after home. If people take a pet home on a whim and it turns out not to be a good mix for them or their family, the poor dog gets into a boomerang situation. Which causes its confidence and social skills to drop, which makes it even more difficult to place. So, since the goal is to have the dog and its owners happy, it takes a little matchmaking.”
Cole nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Have you thought about what type of dog you’d like?”
“We were thinking something sort of medium-size,” Cole said. “Maybe a Lab.”
She laughed. A Lab is only medium-size if you’re comparing it to a Saint Bernard or Great Pyrenees like Peanut. But it’s still a good choice and there’s a reason Labs have become one of the most popular dogs in the country.
“They’re sweet, extremely loyal, and super family dogs as long as you understand that they can also be pretty high energy and that it’ll take two or three years of growing up before they approach that calm dog that’s depicted lying in front of a fireplace on so many Christmas cards.”
“We had a chocolate Lab when I was growing up,” Kelli said. “So I know about their energy. Which is why I thought we’d get a head start before I get pregnant.”
“That’s wise,” Charity said, her mind skimming through a roster of dogs currently staying in volunteer homes around the town. “What would you say to skipping a bit past the puppy stage? It just so happens that we have a four-year-old yellow Lab in foster care. Princess Leia’s great with kids, and already housebroken and obedience trained.”
“Princess Leia?” Cole looked less than pleased by that idea.
“Her foster mom’s a big Star Wars fan.” Charity also understood that the former Marine might not be wild about calling Princess in to dinner every night. “Of course you’re free to change her name.”
“Wouldn’t that confuse her?”
“It could. But you could always shorten it to Leia.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” Kelli said, looking hopefully at her husband, who still didn’t look entirely convinced.
“If she’s so good, how did she end up in a shelter?” Cole asked.
She was a stray who’d been scrounging for scraps on the beach. At first we were hoping she’d just gotten loose from her owners, but we put her on our Web site, and several others, and no one’s shown up, which leads me to believe she was probably
just dumped.
“She was underweight and had heartworms when we rescued her. But she’s all recovered and ready for her new home.”
“That’s horrible that anyone would just dump a defenseless animal.”
“Unfortunately, it’s happening more and more. But as a member of the AVSAB—for the American Veterinary Society of Animal Behavior—my goal is to improve the quality of life for all animals. Since that includes strengthening their bond with their owners, I’d never place a dog or cat in a situation I don’t feel it’s not well suited to.”
Cole rubbed his jaw as he exchanged a look with his new wife. “What do you think, honey? I know you wanted a puppy—”
“Well, Charity does have a point.” Kelli’s forehead furrowed as she studied the posters of available dogs on the wall. “People say babies are really disruptive. Perhaps trying to train a puppy while bringing home a newborn might be more stressful.” She focused in on the dog Charity had pointed out. “She looks sweet.”
“Leia’s a darling,” Charity said, using the dog’s name to personalize her. And child-tested. Her foster mom has four kids. The youngest is a rambunctious boy toddler who climbs all over her and there’ve been no problems. She even gets along with the family’s cat.
“Why don’t we do this,” she suggested. “Let me bring her by your house sometime in the next week or so. We can see how you think she’ll fit in. Give her a trial run, so to speak.”
“That’s a good idea,” Cole said.
“I’ll cook dinner,” Kelli said, seeming to like the proposal, as well.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to have to go to all that trouble.”
“Really, it’s no trouble. Cole’s mom has been teaching me how to cook some of his favorite meals, and I’d love a chance to try out a dinner on someone else besides my husband.” She brightened at that idea. “You’ll be our first guest as a married couple. How about this weekend? Are you free Sunday?”