“Meaning?"
“Meaning you're apparently still the crusader you were back during high school. Clean-up the beaches. Save the whales. Only now you're rescuing people instead."
“And as I remember, you used to say you never had time for causes."
“I still don't. Some things never change." He shifted his weight. “Hard work. Sweat and tears. That's the bottom line. Right, Vanessa?"
“Uh...of course." My, he certainly had a grim way of looking at things, she thought. And what about his evasiveness when he'd talked about his leave from his job? Was it too soon to expect him to confide in her? Would he ever?
As if reading her thoughts, he suddenly got to his feet. “It's been a long day--for both of us. Too long. Time to go."
“Yes." She rose also--though something deep inside of her yearned to prolong their conversation. For an immeasurable moment, they simply stood there, assessing each other, their gazes locked.
“It's great seeing you again," Lowell said at last, his voice gruff with emotion.
“Good seeing you too."
Smiling, he reached out and touched her shoulder, allowing his hand to linger just a little too long.
Her pulse raced. She felt breathless and light headed.
“'Night, Vanessa."
“Good night, Lowell."
He turned to leave, then paused for a second, tossing a look over his shoulder.
“Sleep well," she called after him.
“I'll try to. You too."
As she watched him disappear down the flight of stairs leading down from the deck to the lower yard, she exhaled slowly. At last. Now that he was safely out of sight, she could let her guard down. Her nerves were stretched as tight as a guitar string.
She couldn't help wondering whether Andrew had ever told Lowell about her crush on him. Hopefully he had not, because she certainly wasn't going to give him any encouragement now. Moreover, as far as her brother was concerned, she would never know the answer to that question. Andy, who'd later decided to make the Navy his career, had been killed in a car accident three years ago. Hugging her arms to her chest, she wandered back inside. She could still almost feel where Lowell had touched her shoulder, and for a foolish moment, wondered whether his lips against hers would feel every bit as exquisite.
“Yes, Ruby...Vanessa arrived safely." The sound of Clinton still talking on the phone sliced through her thoughts.
Vanessa smiled, knowing the elderly lady would probably keep her uncle on the line as long as possible. Ruby had not only been a close family friend for a long time, but also Vanessa's piano teacher. A widow for ten years now, she'd taken a special interest in Clinton, who'd claimed to be a confirmed bachelor.
As Vanessa waited for her uncle to hang up the phone, her gaze swept the lobby. The large room had always been the heart of the lodge where guests had gathered in the evening to read and visit, or in the early gray dawn, preparing to leave on a guided fishing trip.
Before Vanessa was old enough to attend the island grade school, her mother had sometimes allowed her to play in the lobby while she managed the front office. Ragtime, the pet calico cat, usually purred loudly from her favorite spot on the Navajo throw rug by the fireplace. The guests seemed to appreciate these homey touches--and her mother had often said that Vanessa's constant exposure to a variety of people helped mold her into the loving, generous young lady she was quickly becoming.
Mama, Vanessa thought with bittersweet pain. Everywhere she looked reminders of her mother seeped through. She wandered over to the pine-drop table, touching it reverently. Mama had refinished it with loving patience. On the far wall shelf stood her hand-woven baskets, her collection of Indian artifacts. Mama had preceded Andrew in death by only one year, a victim of cancer.
Stifling a yawn, she heard Clinton's footsteps growing louder as he crossed the hall to the lobby.
“Ruby sends her regards," he said, taking a long slow draw on his pipe. The sweet aroma of cherry tobacco wafted about them, mixing with the mouth-watering smells that drifted in from the restaurant dining room.
“Yes, I must talk to Ruby. I must start talking to all Dad's friends, especially Matt and the other fisherman on the island. Someone, somewhere must have a clue."
“I think Ruby was waitressing at the Northshore Bait shop when Eldon was last seen there," Clinton said, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. “If Ruby can't help us, I don't know who can. She doesn't miss a trick."
“When did Ruby start working at Northshore?"
“'Bout five months ago after she sold off the Eagle Point tourist cabins and moved into town. When she heard about Eldon, though, she took the rest of the summer off at the bait shop so she could give us a hand. She said to tell you she'll be here tomorrow mornin' just as soon as she can spring free."
“That's just like Ruby. Always willing to pitch in. By the way, is she still giving piano lessons?" The memory of sitting down to the keyboard with the older woman every Wednesday after school brought a smile to Vanessa's face.
“Nope, she gave that up some time ago. But I swear, she'll never give up her love for all that long-haired music. You know, all that Wolfman Amadeus Mozart stuff. That bull-headed woman's been tryin' to make a convert out of me for ages..."
You mean Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,” she corrected him affectionately.
“Wolfman, Wolfgang--what's the difference?" Clinton asked with a chuckle. “Anyway, I'm sure glad Lowell is here to help. The deck's rotting out, we need more barbecue pits, there are missing boards on the steps to the beach. I could go on and on. Eldon and I were going to tackle those chores together." He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and blew his nose loudly.
“I can help too," she offered quickly. “I'm not too bad with a hammer and nails."
Clinton's mouth twitched. “You mean all your book learnin' didn't change you? You're not afraid of getting your hands fishy-smelling or breaking a fingernail?"
“Of course not."
“Thanks, kiddo, but Lowell and I'll manage." He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “Ten-thirty already! How about you and I fixin' ourselves a little supper. I'm as hungry as a half-starved grizzly bear, and you must be too."
“I grabbed a bite to eat on the ferry," she answered. “Even then, I wasn't very hungry. As soon as you finish your supper, make sure you get some sleep. You look so tired."
“But the crab pots still need to be hauled in," he protested."
“I already told you. Go to bed. I'll haul in the crab pots."
He held up his hands and shook his head in a mock gesture of defeat. “Stubborn, the lady is. Just like her old man."
* * *
Inside the sailboat, Lowell sat staring out a porthole. Misty beams of moonlight slanted through. The boat rocked gently, contrasting the turbulence raging within him. He knew it would be hopeless to even try to sleep.
Damn! It was bad enough that Eldon was missing...and now Vanessa was here, complicating the scene. He'd come here to heal, to sort through his life--not wrestle with a new batch of problems.
Vanessa. He heaved a sigh, then squared his jaw. He hadn't doubted for a minute she'd come immediately after learning about her father. But he'd dreaded that first meeting. He'd dreaded facing her again. If she only knew he was partly to blame for Eldon's disappearance, she probably would've turned her back on him and asked him to leave. But whatever had happened to that freckle faced little tomboy with braces on her teeth? The one who loved to play tricks and pester him to death?
She's grown up, that's what, his more typical logical side told him. And now what a looker! Sexy from the word go. Did she have any idea how that mane of auburn hair and her snapping green eyes could drive a man insane?
He stood up, stretched, and began pacing. Obviously she'd been caught off guard also--though most likely, he assumed, because she hadn't expected to find him there. Apparently Eldon and Clinton hadn't gotten around to telling her, those times she'd phoned, that they'd hired him to help
out at the lodge. But then, why should they have? He and Vanessa had never been an item--and sadly enough, Andy was no longer around. Even with the four years separating Andy's birthday from hers, the two of them had been remarkably close.
He stopped pacing and stared at some indiscernible spot on the wall. “Look man," he spoke aloud, his thoughts still riveted on Andy. “I didn't bargain for this. You know what's going on in my life. The last thing I need is a woman messing it up worse. But I won't let you down, man, like I've let down your father. No matter what it takes, I'll do my level best to look out for Vanessa. Make sure that no matter what happens, she somehow gets through this. Yep, that's the least I can do, old buddy.
"For you and especially for Eldon.”
Chapter Two
After Vanessa unpacked her suitcase and changed into her favorite pair of jeans and a mauve turtleneck sweater, she hurried from her bedroom in the family quarters at the back of the lodge.
Outside, a full moon inched higher in the sky, a gauzy globe of light illuminating the harbor, dock and rocky shoreline. The night was unseasonably balmy for the middle of June, and the moon so bright, she didn't need a flashlight.
As she threaded her way down the pier, a bucket in each hand, she could still feel the warmth of the day beneath her thin-soled sandals. A fish jumped, leaving a widening ripple in the mirror-smooth water.
From the opposite end of the dock, she spotted someone approaching with long-legged strides. A fisherman, no doubt. Except he wasn't carrying any fish, not even a tackle box.
The shadowy figure drew closer. Then she recognized him. Lowell. A jolt coursed through her. Should she pretend she didn't see him and turn back to the lodge?
“What are you doing out here?" he called before she could react. “I thought you were turning in."
She lifted her chin. "Uncle Clint never got around to hauling in the crab pots, and I sent him off to bed. And you? You said you were turning in also."
“I was feeling restless. Thought a walk might help." He gestured to one of the buckets. "I'll take that."
“Thanks. I can handle it."
“But you look exhausted. Seems to me you'd welcome some help."
She shifted beneath his steady gaze. What would it hurt just this once? Besides, he was right--she was bone weary.
“Okay. You win." She handed him a bucket and they continued ambling toward the end of the long L-shaped dock where several large crab pots were submerged onto the sea floor.
She caught a whiff of his musky aftershave, noticed the ripple of firm muscles beneath his white polo shirt. Keeping a safe distance between them, she tried to ignore the surge of desire washing over her.
“It would've been a perfect night for sailing," Lowell said, inhaling deeply.
“Yes, the sunset was gorgeous. I saw it as I was getting ready to leave the ferry. If I wasn't so worried about Dad...I'd...I'd almost feel like a tourist myself."
“I understand."
Beneath the dock floodlights, she stole a glance at his well chiseled profile, the firm set of his jaw, his easy, wide-swinging gait. She looked up and offered him a tentative smile. “What made you decide to come back home?" she asked. “Why not Alaska? Or the Caribbean perhaps? Seems to me there are plenty of other places where one could run away."
“Roots. Memories." His jaw was set in a grim line. He switched the bucket to his other hand, then added, “Law enforcement has a way of taking its toll. Then one day you finally wake up. You ask yourself whether it's all worthwhile."
“I'm sure you're a terrific cop," she said sincerely. “I'm sure already you've made a positive mark in the world." She adjusted her gait to the subtle rise and fall of the dock. It creaked with each swell of water. Lights from beach homes at the mouth of the bay twinkled.
“Positive mark? That's questionable. Not in the rotten, dog-eat-dog way we live in today. As far as I'm concerned, we've lost all sense of values. No pride. No tradition. No sense of community or family."
“Isn't that a rather harsh slant on life?"
“Depends. Don't forget, your childhood and mine were totally the opposite. I barely knew my dad. Ma worked hard at the cannery to support my three younger brothers and me. She grew old before her time. As you might already know, she ended up in the state hospital a few years ago, then died."
“Yes, I heard. I'm sorry..." She fought back the unexpected urge to reach out and hug him.
“Back when we were kids, Ma was always working so many long hours, we rarely saw her." He turned, stopped in his tracks and pinned her with his gaze. "Why do you think I spent so much time hanging out at your place with Andy?"
“I suppose you were lonely. Craving a family."
“Right. I did crave a family. A real family. Your folks were plenty busy, too, running the lodge and all, but never too busy to show their warmth and affection. Looking back, I think your father somehow made up for the dad I never knew."
As they started walking again, he lifted his collar against the wind. The simple gesture fascinated her though she couldn't be sure why.
“Yes, Andy and I were never lacking for love," she acknowledged as she sidestepped an open tackle box someone had left on the pier. She hesitated, biting her lip. “Lowell?"
“Yes?"
“I've always been like your little sister. Why can't you tell me what's troubling you?"
“I already explained, Vanessa. I need a break from the grind. I need to get away from police work for a while."
“But there's more. I can tell."
“Don't sweat it. Okay? I'll only be here a short time. It's not worth it to you."
His answer left her with a vague, uneasy feeling. Maybe she should leave well enough alone. That was safer for both of them, wasn't it? Right now she suspected they were each battling their own private demons...
At last they came to the end of the dock. Lowell stooped to tug against the rope tied to the first crab pot. Together they began sorting through it. The rustling and clicking of the moving crustaceans sounded like a thousand tiny castanets.
“Were you working here at the lodge when the news came about Dad?" she asked.
“Yes."
“What do you think might have happened?"
“I only wish I knew, Vanessa. Actually, if...if I hadn't let him down...it's possible all this might've never happened."
“What are you talking about?"
“Everyone's saying that Matt should've gone with him the morning he left, but that's not entirely true. I was the one who was supposed to go. Your father and I had planned to check out some fishing sites near the North Spit, then spend the rest of the day trawling. But first he wanted to stop by the bait shop to gas up, buy his usual six-pack, and chew the fat for a little while with the locals." He swallowed hard before continuing. "For some crazy reason my alarm never went off. I'm not sure why Eldon didn't come down to the dock to wake me. He probably figured I needed my rest since I'd been up late the night before tearing out old Sheetrock." Jerking his gaze from hers, he added, "I...I dreaded seeing you again, Vanessa. I dreaded telling you that...I haven't even told Clinton yet."
The silence loomed between them. "Well...I see," she said at last.
"You're angry. I can tell."
She shook her head, biting back tears. "No. Not angry. Frightened. I'm scared out of my wits, Lowell. I can't bear the thought of losing Dad. Dad's all I've got left anymore, besides Uncle Clint." And if I fall in love with you, something terrible might happen to you too.
He looked back at her. His lips parted as if he was about to say something, yet he remained silent.
"If I should be angry with anyone, perhaps it should be Dad," she continued. "He knew better than to go out alone. I can only pray now that Dad is alive and unharmed and will come back home soon."
"Yes, that's all any of us can hope for."
As they continued tossing the legal-sized crabs into a bucket, their hands touched. Instinctively she drew hers away. So many times back in h
igh school had she longed to be near him like this. Just Lowell and herself--without Andy anywhere around. Again the rush of memories surfaced, like a skin diver plunging back from the depths of the sea.
She groped for small-talk. "I bet Kaloch Bay grows some of the most delicious Dungeness crabs in the entire Pacific Northwest. Hopefully, there'll be plenty here to make up a big batch of my famous Crab Supreme."
He chuckled, the sound punctuating the still night. “I remember. I can still see it now. The first time you tried out your culinary efforts on Andy and me, I swear we ended up spitting out more pieces of shells then eating."
Her hand flew to her mouth as she repressed her own chuckle. “Don't remind me. But I do believe Dad told you and Andy to clean them. We all had equal stake in that little fiasco."
“Andy...man, how I miss him."
The longing in his voice twisted her heart. She stared hard into the darkness. “Yeah, I know. Me too."
“If Andy were still alive," he went on, “I bet we'd be together on this dock right now hauling in the crab pots. Just like we used to. We'd also be swapping stories, maybe a private joke or two."
And I'd still be Andy’s little sis, she thought. Nothing but a tag-along. Guilt flooded over her. God only knew, she'd give almost anything to have her brother back.
He hefted up the next crab pot and they sorted through the last of their catch.
“Where's your brother's boat?" Vanessa asked as she scanned the next section of dock past several white sails and thick mastheads.
“Last one on the dock." He pointed. “Sea Breeze.
“Wow!" she exclaimed, her mouth dropping open. The sailboat's bowsprit jetted forth majestically, its polished wooden door that led inside the cabin caught glimmers of moonlight.
“Like to a quick tour?" He darted her an uncertain look.
“Well...just for a few minutes."
Inside, Lowell grinned, then spread his hands wide. “And this, my fair maid, is the ballroom galley. The dance begins at nine o'clock sharp."
His sudden light-heartedness was unexpectedly endearing.
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