by Ann Warner
Moving through downtown Wrangell, she felt like the last person left on the island. She paused so Kody could rest, and the quiet came and pressed heavily on her shoulders. A quiet that should be a relief, but wasn’t. For wrapped in silence and blinded by fog, she saw clearly—leaving Wrangell at the end of the season was a retreat, a giving up. A trading of the messiness of choice for a life as dull and featureless as the fog. A muffled life where only in memory would she watch a moose meander out of the trees or a whale break the surface of the sea to examine her with a large, calm eye.
A life without Gerrum.
Had he not gone missing, what would it have taken for her to admit she loved him?
Chapter Twenty-one
The morning after the whales, Gerrum set off on a three-day trip with two Canadians. They were ideal clients—pleasant, undemanding, competent fishermen who needed very little hand-holding.
After they anchored the first night, Gerrum discovered the radio was receiving but wasn’t sending. He wasn’t really worried, though, until the next morning, when the engine wouldn’t start and he discovered the cable to the alternator was cut. It meant they were stuck until someone found them, and when the fog settled in, he knew that might be awhile.
The clients fished off the side of the boat or played cards, Gerrum cooked the meals, and everyone had plenty of time to rest. Throughout, Gerrum thought about who might be responsible for the sabotage, but his speculations went nowhere. He simply didn’t have enough information.
His thoughts then turned to Clen, trying to figure out why she got to him the way she did. And why would he rather spend time with her instead of Hailey, who was clearly more available? Was it a matter of craving something he couldn’t have? Would “having” Clen eliminate his growing desire for her?
He didn’t think so. After weeks of slow discoveries, he suspected he’d never get to the end of what he wanted to know about her and share with her. Although it was unclear how anyone ever did know for certain one person would be sufficient to engage mind, heart, and body for a year, let alone a lifetime.
Perhaps it was unknowable.
One thing he did know. If he didn’t make it back to Wrangell, what he’d regret most was never having made love to Clen.
Late in the afternoon of the second day, the fog lifted, and a Coast Guard plane spotted the Ever Joyful in a remote cove on Kupreanof Island. The nearest searcher was dispatched to check. Waiting for his report, the people around Clen stood or sat without speaking, most of them with their arms clutched around themselves as if to ward off a chill. Even the little girl who’d been restless and whiny stopped fussing and allowed her mother to hold her tightly.
“Rescue Base, this is the Betty Sue. I have Ever Joyful in view.” A long pause filled with the hiss of empty air. “Rescue Base, we see three aboard...all waving at us. Everyone looking just—” A cheer broke out, overriding the rest of the transmission.
Clen’s eyes welled with tears. She stood but when her vision filled with black dots, she sat back down and took a deep breath. As the faintness receded, she became aware that she ached all over as if she’d just spent days clinging to a rock face. Something that might have been easier than what she had been doing.
She stood slowly. Everyone was laughing, talking, hugging. She turned and walked unsteadily back to the lodge. In the kitchen, hands shaking, she poured milk and unwrapped a leftover sandwich. She ate quickly, stopping to wipe away tears of relief only when they threatened to drip onto the food.
Marian snapped on a light. “Clen, you okay?”
Clen, sitting, staring at nothing, an empty glass and plate in front of her, looked up, startled. “Oh. Fine. You want a sandwich?”
“Right now, I don’t care if I never see another one. You heard the news?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll be here about midnight.”
Given the hour, Gerrum was surprised by the number of people standing on the dock as the Joyful was towed into Reliance Harbor. Seeing that gathering of friends, neighbors, and even strangers, he knew he’d been wise to suggest to his clients they let him do the talking.
He waded into the crowd, shaking hands and thanking everyone, looking for Clen. Although distracted, he answered the questions being tossed at him with care.
“Yeah, engine trouble...nope, not a sound from her. Must have been a bad area for the radio. Appreciate everyone coming out to look for us...yeah, good thing the fog lifted or we’d still be out there.”
He reached the edge of the crowd without seeing Clen, but Hailey was there, standing apart. He walked over to her, and she lifted eyes filled with tears to his. Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely before releasing him. As if to reassure herself he was real, she gave his arm one last pat before she turned and walked quickly away. John, who’d been watching, cleared his throat, then apparently thought better of it, and said nothing.
Gradually the crowd dispersed until Terry, the two clients, John, and Gerrum, stifling a disappointment that felt bone-deep, were left to walk back to the lodge. Clen was there, sitting on the porch with Kody. The others went inside.
Clen stood. “It’s awfully good to see you, Mr. Kirsey.”
“It’s awfully good to see you, Miss McClendon.”
To his relief, she stepped into his arms. As her lips pressed against his, his puzzlement over why this woman filled his heart dissipated. She just did.
He pulled away with difficulty. “There are some things I need to tell the Jeffers. Do you want to come in or wait here?”
“I’ll wait here.”
Reluctantly, he left her and went upstairs to the Jeffers’ private quarters.
Marian hugged him. “Oh, Gerrum, we were so worried.” She stepped back still holding onto his shoulders. “You okay?”
“I could use a shower.”
She wrinkled her nose and smiled. “True. I’m so glad you’re okay.” She patted his cheek, blinking rapidly.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Grab a cold one and tell us what the hell happened,” John said as Marian pulled a fresh pizza from the oven. “And it better be good. You scared the bejesus out of us.”
“Alternator wire was cut, the radio disabled.” Gerrum took a long swallow of beer, then rolled the icy can across his forehead, remembering how he’d felt when he discovered the damage was deliberate. Good thing he’d had time to cool off.
Terry blanched. “God, Gerr. You’re saying someone messed with the boat?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He waved away the offer of pizza.
“Going to be some mighty angry fisherman it gets out you were sabotaged,” John said. “Any idea who?”
Gerrum shook his head. “And it’s hard knowing someone dislikes me enough for something like this.”
“Maybe it was aimed at Terry.” Marian nodded at his partner. “Don’t you usually do the multi-day trips?”
“Yep.”
“You riled anybody lately?” Gerrum asked even though he’d gone through that scenario and dismissed it. Easygoing Terry seemed to be a universal favorite around the harbor.
“Gosh, Gerrum. I don’t think so.”
“Another possibility is a kid, playing a trick,” John said.
“Seemed a bit too involved for that.” Gerrum shook his head in frustration. “For sure it’s someone who knows engines.”
“What about your clients? Maybe somebody was trying to give them a scare,” Marian said.
“Doesn’t look like it. We went through their enemy lists while they were wiping me out at poker.”
“Well, there is one person in Wrangell who doesn’t seem to like you much, Gerr,” John said.
“Elmer Cantrell,” Marian said.
“I thought of him, but I wasn’t sure he was smart enough for this.”
It was, after all, a neat, clever trick. With the alternator cable cut, there was enough juice to start the engine to begin the trip, and once started it ran fine. But
after he shut it off, it wasn’t going to start again until the batteries were recharged. The job on the radio almost as slick. Enough damage to prevent transmissions while leaving reception intact. They’d actually listened in while the search progressed.
The main danger had been getting caught in a tidal rip with a dead engine. Or not being found. And if Elmer wasn’t responsible, it meant someone else must be hating him from the shadows, a thought that made him feel wretched.
“Elmer may not be too intellectual, but the sonofabitch knows engines,” John said.
“Does he still think I’m here to get Wrangell Island turned over to the Tlingits?”
“Naw. Nobody’d listen. Finally gave up on it. Come to think of it, man’s had a change of focus lately.” John’s tone changed to a nasal twang. “Regular lady-killer, that there Gerrum. Moving in slick as snot, taking all the women for hisself.”
What...?
“Always having morning coffee with Hailey, or going off to see bears and what have you with Clen,” John continued. “Fair sticks in a man’s craw. Makes him think it’s high time a certain someone was taught a lesson, not to mention, them there ladies could sure use protecting.”
“You quoting directly?” The words, although spoken by John, sent a pulse of unease up Gerrum’s spine.
“More or less. Fact is, Elmer does have a flair for language I can’t quite match. But that’s the gist.”
“He’s a sneaky little weasel,” Marian said. “I wouldn’t put it past him to kick a kitten if he thought no one was watching.”
“Nobody ever lost, betting on Elmer being mean and stupid,” John said.
“Did he really say I needed to be taught a lesson?”
John frowned. “I was running my mouth, but come to think of it, he did say something like that, six, seven days ago. Mostly, I ignore the man. Nobody’s good as Elmer at poisoning a person’s outlook on a perfectly fine day.”
“Has he been around?” Gerrum asked.
“He helped search yesterday,” Terry said. “Part of today too, seems to me. Or at least he pretended to.”
“He wasn’t at the harbor when we came in.” Gerrum had looked because, despite doubting Elmer’s competence, the man was still at the top of his suspect list. “You know, if it is Elmer, that gives me an idea or two.”
By the time he finished telling the others what those ideas were, Terry was grinning. “Hot damn, Gerr. We’re going to have us some fun.”
Gerrum made his excuses then and went to Clen.
How strange that it would turn out to be so simple. With her hand tucked in Gerrum’s, her worries, questions, and doubts faded to insignificance. She felt, suddenly, as young and hopeful as she had going off to Marymead the first time.
In Gerrum’s kitchen, she leaned against the counter while he chopped onions, and butter sizzled in a skillet. While he worked, he told her about the sabotage and what he’d done while they were stranded. In turn, she told him what she’d done: the sandwiches and coffee, the endless waiting, the worry.
He lifted the skillet off the burner and slid the omelet onto a plate, cut it, and transferred half to a second plate he then handed her. Clen had eaten dinner, but she was still hungry enough from her two-day fast to eat her share.
When they finished, Gerrum got out bowls and a scoop. “I have homemade peach or Rocky Road?”
“An omelet and ice cream. Are you trying for a heart attack, Gerrum Kirsey?”
“I recently proved my heart’s in pretty good shape.” He met her gaze, making her heart jump.
“Peach. Just a small scoop.”
He pulled a Tupperware container out of the freezer. So, was that how he spent his evenings? Churning exotic flavors of ice cream? It was only one of the things she didn’t yet know about him—ordinary, everyday things—whether he squeezed the toothpaste in the middle, did the daily crossword, was a morning or an evening person. All unknown. All waiting to be known...but only if she had the courage.
She curled a bit of pale orange onto her spoon. Gerrum took a small scoop as well. It wouldn’t take either of them long to eat. She shivered, telling herself it was because of the ice cream.
Gerrum picked up his empty bowl and carried it to the sink. She watched him, trying to decide what she wanted to happen next. Easier, to know what she didn’t want. She didn’t want the evening to end, not without discovering if kissing her meant as much to him as kissing him did to her. “I-uh...I read your book.”
He turned toward her with a questioning look.
“And I liked it. A lot.” She felt the heat of a blush start at her toes and travel up her torso until it emerged at her neck. “That was inane, wasn’t it.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He sat across from her. “It’s certainly preferable to a more erudite slice and dice.”
“I thought only crudités were sliced and diced, not books.”
“Shows you’re not an author.”
No, she was a woman alone with a man who’d kissed her with more than friendly intent.
As suddenly as it gusted through her, the giddiness retreated, and the past came to crouch beside her. She clenched her hands, then twisted them together until Gerrum reached out and took the nearest hand between his. She looked at their hands, Gerrum’s blunt and sun-darkened, hers pale and delicate in comparison. Gradually, the steadiness of his grip calmed her frantically scurrying thoughts.
“You want to know what I did, while we waited to be rescued?” he said.
“Didn’t you already tell me?”
He shook his head and waved his free hand as if to dismiss his earlier words. “I thought how nice it would be to just...talk to you.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’d like that, too.”
“If you’re willing to try, we’ll be more comfortable in the other room.”
In the soft dark of the living room, he settled an arm around her, and after a moment, she relaxed against him. “While you were missing, I thought about you,” she said. “How if you weren’t found, it would make a difference to me. I regretted I never told you—” She struggled to steady her voice. “I care about you, and I’m so thankful...so relieved I got this chance.”
“Me, too.” Then, once again, he was kissing her.
For a time, she gave in to emotion and sensation, relishing a growing desire, but as that desire gathered momentum, she forced herself to pull away. “When we’re kissing, I have trouble thinking straight.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He traced her eyebrow and ran a finger down her cheek and under her chin, tipping her face to meet his gaze.
She gazed back, knowing that before this went any further, it was only fair to give him a hint of what he was dealing with. “I’ve never been much good at relationships.”
He cocked his head, examining her. “They’re works in progress for all of us, Clen. I’ve lived alone a long time. That might make a person think I don’t do such a great job, either.”
Okay, he wasn’t going to be easy to warn off, but she already knew that. Hadn’t she made it as clear as she knew how he shouldn’t bother getting to know her? Did he pay attention? No. He just kept at her, like Saint did, like Paul, until she forgot to be always on guard.
Paul. The thought transformed desire into unease, and she pushed away from Gerrum’s touch. “My ex-husband would be happy to tell you how inadequate I am.” She closed her eyes against the hot burn of tears. She’d tried to believe Paul’s adultery was all due to a lack in him and not her. Unsuccessfully, it seemed.
Gerrum pulled her back into his arms and settled her head on his shoulder. “Did this husband of yours ever concern himself with your needs, Clen?” The soft words might have been posed by her thoughts rather than by the man whose arms encircled her. Gerrum continued to hold her, letting his question simmer, and that gentleness calmed and comforted her in a way nothing else likely could.
He rubbed his cheek on her hair. “You know, we don’t have to figure it all out tonight
.”
She nestled into him, too exhausted not to let it be. It was enough, for the moment, to have Gerrum’s arms around her. A comfort after the stress of the last two days that she wanted to savor. He shifted, and she realized she’d come close to dozing off.
“Sorry, Clen. My arm was going numb.” He wiggled it as she sat up and ran fingers through her hair.
“It’s time we get you back to the lodge. Although I want you to know it’s not my first choice.”
She stilled and turned to look at him. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she might have weighed her reply, thought it over, but sometime tonight she’d stopped hiding from this man. “It’s not my choice either.” She took a breath and said the rest. “But it’s best. At least for now.”