The Harvest

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  She opened her palm and stared at the smooth, pink, heart-shaped stone. Her chest tightened, and she looked into Ryan’s eyes, wondering if God had sent her a sign.

  When she extended her hand to return the stone, Ryan shook his head. “Keep it.”

  She slid the rock into her pocket, keeping her hand there to run her fingers over the rounded edges.

  “It’s dark already,” Ryan said, pulling a flashlight from his pocket and sending a beam of light onto the path.

  “You think of everything.”

  “Walking without a light is asking for trouble.”

  Avoiding the shadowy ruts, Tess clung to Ryan’s side. Silver dots shimmered across the water and a round moon glowed with ruffled edges on the rippling waves. She stopped before walking back up the hill to the cabin.

  “I have two things to say,” she said.

  “Two?”

  Tess couldn’t see his face, but she heard concern in his voice. She grinned into the darkness. “First, thanks for the walk. It was fun.”

  “And second?”

  “You haven’t answered my question about your ex-fiancée, and I expect an answer.”

  Ryan stood in front of the fireplace clasping a steaming mug and gazed at Tess, his thoughts banging in his head like bumper cars. But one thought stood out from the rest. “I find you very attractive, Tess.”

  Her eyes widened before she laughed. “You’ll say anything to avoid talking about ‘what’s her name.”’

  “Donna,” he said, feeling uneasy mentioning Donna while his mind was filled with Tess. “I meant what I said. I might as well confess I thought you were a beautiful woman years ago when we met…but you were married and I’m a man of honor.” Honor. The word prickled through him. If he’d been an honorable man, he’d have ended his relationship with Donna long before she did.

  Tess’s gaze shifted from him to the dancing flames and remained silent. Then when she faced him, she studied his face before speaking. “I find you appealing, too, Ryan…but we barely know each other and—”

  “Please don’t get me wrong, Tess. I’m not suggesting anything intimate. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

  He took a step forward and settled on the edge of the same overstuffed chair he always sat in.

  Tess shifted, a look of confusion growing on her face, her eyes riveted to Ryan’s as if trying to seek some deeper truth.

  “Donna and I had mutual friends and some common interests, but after the engagement I noticed a change…maybe in both of us. Donna didn’t seem to want to settle down.” He rubbed his neck. “I had the feeling that she liked the idea of having a husband, but not the idea of being a wife.”

  Tess frowned.

  “My view of marriage is two people having a family and sharing their lives,” he said. “I pictured us sitting around talking…like we are right now. Conversation, laughter, talking about nature and God. Donna doesn’t sit still long enough to have a conversation. I thought that would change once a commitment was made but—”

  “Commitments don’t mean the same thing to people,” Tess said, her eyes filled with so much sadness, Ryan puzzled at what it meant.

  “That’s true…and I suppose people don’t really change. We just misread each other for a while.”

  His chest tightened when he saw sadness in Tess’s eyes. “What is it, Tess? Did I say something to upset you?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled, wiping the stray tears from her cheek. “I was just thinking how awful life can be sometimes.”

  “Awful sometimes, but wonderful most often. And when things are really difficult we have God.”

  “But what if God doesn’t have us?”

  Her despondent gaze sent a chill through him. “I’ve lost a fiancée, but never a spouse. I can only imagine how horrible that must be.”

  He rose and knelt beside her, taking her hand in his. “God doesn’t give up on us, Tess. The Lord is with us always, but sometimes our cries aren’t answered the way we think they should be. In time, we understand.”

  She nodded, then withdrew her hand from his and caressed his cheek. “So why do you feel guilty about Donna?”

  “I should have been more honest with her. I prayed that God give me a way to end the relationship….” He couldn’t help but grin. “And then when she did, I was shocked.”

  For the first time since the conversation began, Tess smiled. “So she hurt your pride.”

  He nodded. And he began singing “Macho Man.”

  “Thanks for being honest,” she said. She took a sip of tea. “It’s cold.”

  Rising from his crouched position, Ryan took her mug and his, then carried them to the kitchen. He wondered if he’d ever know what had hurt her so deeply. She called him honest, but he’d avoided some things he shouldn’t have. He just wasn’t ready.

  “Did you notice the orange sunset tonight?” he said, moving toward the doorway. “Looks like we’ll have a nice day. Remember…red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” He spun around to face her. “Why not come to Mackinac Island with me tomorrow? I think the weather will be perfect.”

  Tess stood and ambled toward him. “I haven’t been there in years. It might be fun.”

  “I suppose the bike rentals are closed for the season,” he said, “but we can hire a horse and buggy. Checking the house shouldn’t take too long. We might even have time for dinner there. What do you say?”

  “I say yes.” She reached up and patted his cheek.

  When she pulled back, he captured her gaze, fighting the desire to kiss her.

  Chapter Five

  The horse’s clip-clop echoed in the quiet of the Tuesday afternoon. The buggy rocked, side to side, as they descended the hill back into town.

  “I told you the assessment would be fast,” Ryan said, taking advantage of the weather to slide his arm around Tess’s shoulder. “If he wants to sell, I’ll have to contact an assessor in the area for him, but at least I can give him an idea of value.”

  “The house is magnificent. I can’t understand the man wanting to give it up.”

  “Me, neither,” Ryan said, thinking how magnificent she looked in the late-afternoon sun. “Any place like this with a view of the water and sky…and on an island is priceless. But so is your place.”

  “The cabin?”

  “I bet you don’t have the foggiest idea how much your place is worth.”

  She turned toward him, her brow creased in question. “Well?” She lifted a brow.

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Lakefront property is valuable…and good lakefront like yours is hard to come by. Let’s see. You probably have two hundred feet of waterfront. I’d guess the land alone is worth more than a hundred thousand.”

  “A hundred thousand? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  Though she drew his attention toward Fort Mackinac as the carriage rattled past, Tess grew quiet, a sullen thoughtfulness that made Ryan feel alone. Ahead, Main Street stretched in each direction and beyond the glinting water of the Straits of Mackinac.

  “Dollar for your thoughts,” he said.

  A moment passed before she faced him. “I’ve been wondering.”

  “About?”

  “The cabin. You just mentioned how much it’s worth, and that’s a coincidence, because I’ve been thinking that I should sell the place….” Her voice faded, leaving an echoing sadness.

  “Sell it? But why, Tess? You’ve said so often how much the cabin means to you.” Her face told the story. She didn’t want to sell the property.

  “I can’t keep it up myself—not the way I should—and hiring out the work is too expensive. Besides, I’m lonely here by myself.”

  “It can get lonely, I know.” He’d planned to be alone these past days and realized now how wonderful the time had been with Tess. Not just filling his hours, but helping him realize what a relationship should really be. His gaze drifted heavenward, and again, he wondered if this were the Lord’s w
ay of guiding his life.

  Tess remained quiet, and Ryan withdrew from his own thoughts, realizing she struggled with her decision.

  “Don’t rush into anything, Tess. Think about it over the winter. If you decide, you can sell the place next spring.”

  She stared off toward the horizon. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  With his arm around her shoulder, Ryan felt a shiver course through her. He squeezed her arm to assure her. Then he followed the direction of her eyes to the distance.

  The sun had begun to set beyond the length of the Mackinac Bridge, and the colors melted together—yellow to orange to red to purple. Awesome and unreal.

  He felt a tremor through her shoulders. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  Mesmerized by the moment, he could only nod. When his gaze shifted from the sun’s display to Tess’s glowing face, the sight took his breath away. The sun played on her deep brown hair, and her cheeks glowed with the colors gracing the horizon. Ryan prayed the excitement on her face stemmed, in a small way, from sharing the day with him.

  Tess felt Ryan’s stare, and the heat of a flush burned her cheeks. She wondered if he felt as drawn to her as she to him. From the moment they met, she sensed kinship between them. He made her laugh and feel complete, and gentleness flowed from beneath his handsome, rugged demeanor.

  The buggy rumbled and rocked as it turned the corner, maneuvering from the asphalt to the cement of the main roadway. The driver pulled to the curb, and Ryan leaped out first and lifted her to the ground. With him, a feeling of femininity came alive again. Something she thought had vanished.

  After he paid the driver, they took a few steps and paused at one of the shops. “Not much open. Want to look here?” Ryan asked.

  “Sure. I might buy myself a sweatshirt.” Buying a memento took on an unexpected importance. Tess would have something tangible to remember the wonderful days they’d shared.

  Inside the shop, a sweatshirt caught Tess’s eye. She loved the muted teal with the bridge imprinted on a swash of colorful sunset, very close to the glorious sight they’d witnessed on their ride back into town. “Look.”

  Ryan wandered to her side as she selected the size.

  “We’re ready to close,” the saleswoman called from the checkout. “Did you want that?”

  Tess nodded and carried the shirt to the clerk.

  The woman glanced at the price and punched keys on the cash register. She opened a shopping bag and dropped the shirt and wire hanger inside.

  Tess handed her the bills, and the young woman laid the change into her hand with a grin. “Honeymooners? I can always spot them.”

  Heat crept up Tess’s neck. “No. Just visiting. We’re taking the ferry back tonight.”

  The woman’s eyebrows lifted. “I hope you’re kidding. The ferry left at six. It’s a long swim back.”

  Ryan’s mouth dropped open as he glanced at his watch. “You’re joking.”

  “No, it’s five after right now. You may catch it if you run like the wind.”

  Tess’s heart thudded. “What do you think?”

  Ryan grabbed her hand. “I think we’d better run for it.”

  They bolted from the building and down the sidewalk toward the dock, but a sharp kink caught in Tess’s side, and she slowed.

  “Go ahead.” She pressed her fingers against the stabbing pain before darting on again.

  Ryan faltered, then ran ahead and turned the corner, vanishing beyond the building that blocked a view of the pier.

  Tess pushed herself forward, her legs stretching as she rounded the corner, her feet resounding on the heavy planks.

  But when she lifted her eyes, Ryan stood alone on the pier, the ferry a silhouette heading for the city. He shrugged and headed back her way.

  “What will we do now?” Tess asked.

  “Look at the bright side. We have time to enjoy dinner on the island.”

  A mixture of panic and intrigue filtered through Tess. Dinner, then what? They were stranded.

  He grasped her arm and steered her back to Main Street. When their feet hit the concrete, Ryan paused and looked up one side and down the other, then glanced at his watch. “I suppose we should find a place to stay first. Not much is open.”

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and turned left in the direction of the Grand Hotel. Looking at their garb—jeans, knit shirts, and jackets—Tess laughed.

  “I’m glad you can find humor in this,” Ryan said.

  “I was thinking that even if the Grand Hotel has rooms, we couldn’t stay there. Guests have to dress up after six.”

  He grinned. “I saw a sign at the ferry landing. Bay View Inn is still open.”

  “We hope.” Chilled by the nippy air, she gave in to her desire and snuggled closer to his side.

  They walked in silence, gasping against a heavy breeze and the inclined sidewalk. Relieved, yet flustered, Tess spotted the yellow-and-white Victorian building adorned with an oval sign, Bay View Inn.

  They climbed the steps to the wide wraparound porch lined with white wicker rocking chairs. Tess held back while Ryan opened the door and strode inside to the tinkle of a bell.

  He looked at Tess over his shoulder, and she forced herself to enter, too aware of their lack of luggage and their embarrassing situation.

  The clerk came through a doorway, and Tess listened while Ryan explained their situation. The clerk’s eyes shifted from Tess to Ryan as if wondering how they could be so stupid.

  “We’d like two rooms,” Ryan said, ending his wary tale.

  The clerk shook his head. “We’re about filled. There’s a large conference at the Grand.” His fingers pecked at the computer keys. “All I have is one queen. Oh…and the Premiere Suite.” His gaze raked over their attire.

  Ryan glanced at Tess over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

  Tess shrugged, imagining the cost. “Premiere Suite? Wouldn’t that be expensive?”

  The clerk looked at her over his spectacles. “Three hundred plus tax.”

  “For one night?” Tess asked, realizing neither of them wanted to spend hundreds of dollars for their stupid mistake. “No exceptions?”

  “None,” the clerk said.

  “Are any other inns open?” Ryan asked overlapping the man’s response.

  “The Grand Hotel,” the clerk said, again eyeing their attire, “but I don’t think—”

  “What’s the rate for the room with a queen,” Tess asked, irritated with the man’s attitude.

  “One hundred and seventy-five dollars.”

  Tess lifted her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. “We’ll take it.”

  Ryan faced her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and managed a look of confidence while concern rattled through her like a bag of marbles. Though she recalled Ryan’s words—“I’m not suggesting anything intimate”—could she trust him tonight?

  Could she trust herself?

  After dinner at the Calico Pony, Tess stood in the doorway and eyed the room she had to share with Ryan. She gazed at the Victorian decor. The four-poster, queen-size bed was covered in an old-fashioned quilt and there was a chintz-covered easy chair with ottoman in the corner.

  Sensing Ryan behind her, Tess stepped into the room and dropped her shoulder bag and sweatshirt sack on the oak vanity table.

  Ryan moved past her, crossed to the lace-curtained windows where darkness pushed against the pane and pulled the shade. When he pivoted toward Tess, she struggled with a this-is-too-intimate sensation that charged through her.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Tess shook her head, not knowing what he expected her to say. She wanted to remind him about his comment about no intimacy, but it seemed out of place with his simple question.

  Instead, Tess eyed her watch, then assured the time by looking at the digital alarm on the nightstand. “Try to rest, I suppose.”

  He nodded and swung his hand toward the bed. “You take the bed, and I’ll use the c
hair.”

  She looked at the small chair and shook her head, but he ignored her, moving past to snatch a pillow from the bed and heading across the room.

  He kicked off his shoes, adjusted the ottoman under his legs and leaned his head back against the pillow.

  Tess chuckled at the picture. His long legs and feet extended beyond the footstool and he looked miserable. “This is ridiculous, Ryan. I’m smaller. You take the bed.” She snapped on the bedside light and waited.

  “No gentleman allows a woman to sleep in a chair while he takes the bed.” He pushed the ottoman away from the chair to catch more of his leg. “This is fine. Comfortable.”

  His “comfortable” position looked awkward, but she stopped arguing and stepped across the room to bolt the door and turn off the larger light. When she returned to the bed, she loosened her belt, slipped off her shoes and stretched out on the top of the quilt before glancing at Ryan who had closed his eyes, his hands folded in his lap, his head tilted back.

  “Good night,” she said, and snapped off the light.

  She felt miserable without a toothbrush or clean change of clothing, but Ryan looked more pitiable twisted into the chair.

  Darkness shrouded the room, and Tess held her breath and listened to Ryan’s even breathing. He’d been true to his word. Not one sexual overture. Not even a joke about them being alone in the room.

  Feeling a chill settle over her, Tess rose and climbed beneath the blanket, but soon her thoughts shifted to Ryan. Fearing he’d be cold, she stood again and pulled off the spread, then with moonlight streaming in from the edge of the window shade, she carried the quilt to his chair and draped it over him.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

  Hearing the nearness of his gentle voice sent her heart dipping to her stomach before fluttering upward to repose where it belonged. “It’s getting cold.”

  “Thanks, Tess.”

  In the moonlight through a chink between the wall and shade, she saw him tuck the quilt beneath his chin and nestle down again.

  Tess returned to the bed, but her mind felt as agitated as Ryan appeared hanging between the chair and ottoman.