Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents)

by Lynette Sowell

  Then Pete bellowed down the hatch for them to come above deck. The whole routine started again, towing the nets in and freeing the catch, then storing the fish in the hold.

  “Well, that’s our quota,” Pete said with a sigh.

  Jonathan nodded. It was too late in the season to venture farther out, and the two thousand pounds of fish would hopefully bring a good price back in harbor. The Isabella Rose wouldn’t venture out as far as the swordfish boats. Her crew instead trawled closer to the coast for herring and other smaller fish in demand by restaurants and markets.

  Times had changed since he was a kid working the boats. The Fisheries Department had assigned quotas for each catch. Even if they caught more than they could use, they had to toss back the extra. Plus their fishing days per year were limited. Bad catch meant less pay. Jonathan echoed Pete’s sigh. Next time, there might not be as many fish.

  When they reached the mouth of the harbor, Jonathan scanned the coastline for the long white building of the Cetacean Institute. Two research vessels were docked at a pier leading to the entrance of the institute. Was Olivia there? Did she think of him at all?

  He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He didn’t want her to worry about him. But then, why did his dream coming true cause an ache in his heart?

  *

  “I’ve got a project for you, Liv.”

  Olivia looked up from the microscope and made a notation of the plankton they’d gleaned from the waters of Stellwagen Bank.

  “What kind?”

  Rusty, a man with a shock of red hair and crinkles around his eyes from the sun, glanced at Olivia’s notes. “It was Maggie’s project, but because she’s taken a leave of absence, she recommended you to run with it.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s the Whales in Schools program. It’s a multimedia program you will share at school assemblies.”

  “I’ll be glad to.” Next thing she did would be to call Maggie and thank her.

  “Thanks for coming through. Get with Maggie for the particulars. Your first assembly is in less than two weeks.”

  She studied the printouts and test results before her. In a way, she understood a little of how Jonathan must feel. She’d seen a light in his eyes the night they’d had dinner together and she masked her own trepidation enough to let him enjoy the realization of his dream.

  She could envision Jonathan with several days’ growth of beard, his dark eyes shining with joy as the wind tousled his wavy hair. The man was born for the water. She prayed for him every night. Olivia dashed away her sullen thoughts, picked up the phone and called Maggie.

  “Come over for supper.” Maggie sounded jubilant. “I’ve got scads of notes cluttered around the computer. Plus, I can show you the nursery.”

  “Wonderful! I’m looking forward to it.”

  After work she called her dad. “I’m going straight to Maggie’s tonight, so eat without me.”

  “That’s fine. I’m starting my computer class at the community college tonight anyway.”

  She’d forgotten. “Have fun. Don’t blow up the hard drive if you can help it.” They ended the call laughing. Her dad amazed her, the way he’d picked up computer skills. Every night he checked email and even joined Facebook after she gave him strict warnings about oversharing his personal information and whereabouts online.

  If someone wants to find me, Liv, they’re going to find me one way or another, he’d said. The other night, an old friend of mine got back in touch with me. It’s fun being on Facebook.

  Olivia left the institute, making a beeline for Todd and Maggie’s, enduring the onslaught of Fairport traffic. Her stomach growled. Maybe she should pick up a dessert at the market.

  Her heart leaped when she pulled up behind Jonathan’s Jeep parked in Maggie’s driveway. Olivia pounded on the front door, then opened it when no one answered. “Hello?”

  “In the kitchen, Liv!” came Maggie’s shout.

  The scent of warm tomato sauce and garlic drifted past her. She heard the television in the den blaring sounds from one of the playoff games. If the Red Sox were playing, she knew Jonathan would be glued to his chair. As Olivia tiptoed past the den entrance toward the source of the delightful smells, a quick glance showed Jonathan and Todd entranced by the game.

  In one look, Olivia knew she loved Jonathan. The sensation coursed through to her core. Lord help her, she hadn’t wanted to fall for someone again. Not like this. The realization made her gasp and quicken her steps to the kitchen when she wanted to flee home.

  “Hey.” Maggie was bending over an oven rack, poking at a pan of lasagna. “Let me check this and I’ll show you my plans for the whale program.”

  “Hello to you, too. Smells delicious. I should have asked if I needed to bring something.” Olivia set her purse on the roomy phone table in the corner. She loved Jonathan, but tonight wasn’t the time to think about that.

  Maggie closed the oven door. “I’m a lady of leisure now. Utterly domesticated.”

  “Bet you went kicking and screaming.”

  “Tell me about it.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “I’m doing great, though. Three more months. I have another appointment next week. And Jonathan’s starting to build the crib we saw at the store.”

  Olivia followed Maggie to the little alcove in the kitchen that served as a study. She noted how much Maggie’s desk resembled her father’s: papers everywhere.

  Maggie snatched up a laminated blue folder with a whale decal. “Here it is.” She unfolded a series of lessons. “I’ve designated the program to be for all grade levels. Just pick the presentation you want, from early elementary through high school.”

  Olivia turned the pages. She could already see herself standing before a classroom of excited students, guiding them through a multimedia presentation about marine life, especially whales. Part of her missed teaching youngsters. “You’ve put a lot of work into this.”

  “Yes, it was hard, but thanks to a grant I—well, the institute—received, we were able to fund it, plus a state-of-the-art production company created the program. Which reminds me, I want you to look at another proposal I’m writing.” Maggie started riffling through papers on the desk.

  “Honestly, Mag, I don’t know how you keep it straight.”

  “I call it organized chaos. Hmm…it’s here somewhere.” More paper shuffling.

  Olivia shook her head. “You should have Jonathan build you a new desk and some file space.”

  “Not if I’m building one for your dad first.”

  Jonathan’s voice sounded mere inches behind her, and Olivia tried not to startle. Her heart hammered away. She hoped Jonathan couldn’t hear it. Olivia turned to face him.

  “Hi.” Her throat went dry.

  “Hey. So, how’re things?” His once-sunburned face now had a dark bronze glow.

  “Good, good. Work’s busy. That’s, um, why I’m here tonight mostly. I’m taking care of Maggie’s program for the schools until she’s back from maternity leave.” She liked the cream-colored fisherman knit sweater he wore, which made his hair and eyes seem darker. His mother probably had knitted it and sent it from Florida.

  The aroma of burning cheese drifted into the room.

  “The lasagna! Ack!” Maggie bounded by them and into the kitchen. Evidently she broke the stereotype of the pregnant waddle.

  “It’ll be fine, but you’re not supposed to run around like that, remember?” Olivia called around Jonathan’s torso. Now she was pinned between him and the desk.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Jonathan said, obviously ignoring the culinary crisis.

  “I—I’m glad you’re here, too,” Olivia admitted. The scent of his cologne was doing things to her stomach, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. She wanted to step a little closer, but also wanted to find something to do in the kitchen away from him.

  “Well, you can let me know how big you want me to build your dad’s desk.”

  “Yes. The desk. Of course. We can sketch it out after supper
maybe.” She tried not to lick her lips. Oh, she’d missed him all right. But he hadn’t missed her. He’d only asked about the desk.

  “Liv, could you give me a hand with the salad?” Maggie’s voice filtered into the alcove.

  Olivia ignored Jonathan’s probing eyes as she darted around him and joined Maggie in the kitchen.

  With rapid strokes of the vegetable peeler, she made quick work of peeling an unwitting cucumber. Then she whacked the thing into slices. Maggie meanwhile pattered back and forth from the table.

  “So, what’s with the samurai salad technique? You sure it’s just veggies you’re brutalizing there?” Maggie opened a cabinet to take down some coffee cups.

  “I almost made a fool out of myself a minute ago.”

  “With Jonathan?”

  Olivia nodded. “Yeah. It’s obvious he’s enjoying his new job.” She split a head of lettuce in two. “I’m happy for him, really I am.”

  Maggie’s hand closed over the one holding the knife. “You expected him to go out on the water and be miserable?” She gave a soft chuckle. “For men like Jonathan and Todd, it would be like asking them to hate their own souls.”

  Olivia put down the knife. “No, I don’t want him to be miserable. I just—I just want him to miss me.” The admission sounded silly when it sprang from her mouth. But her best friend would hear such words and understand.

  “I think he does miss you, Liv. You should have seen his face when he came up behind you while we were at the desk. I haven’t seen him look so happy in weeks.” Maggie sighed.

  “But he said he was glad I came, so I could tell him how I wanted Dad’s desk built.” She’d been fine until she saw Jonathan again. Her emotions now tumbled topsy-turvy inside.

  “Men.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “He misses you, girl. Believe me.”

  “I…” Olivia tossed the salad with abandon. “I pray for him, you know.”

  Maggie smiled. “Then keep praying. Hey, I hear the guys coming. Brace yourself, I think they’re hungry.”

  Chapter 10

  Jonathan felt a chill in the air when he first entered Todd’s eat-in kitchen, and it wasn’t just from the early autumn breeze coming through the window. Olivia kept up a light banter with Maggie, but paid little attention to him. Which was fine with Jonathan, because Todd mentioned wanting to hurry through supper so they could get back to the playoff game.

  “So, Liv.” Jonathan decided to venture direct conversation with her. “How big do you want your dad’s desk to be?”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. Why don’t you call him one day, when the two of you are on dry land, and ask him?” Olivia spoke the words evenly and blinked.

  “Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll let you know the cost estimate after I talk to him.” He clenched the cup of coffee he held in one hand. When the two of you are on dry land. Very funny.

  “Great.”

  Then the conversation changed to the topic of Olivia giving presentations at the schools in the nearby school systems.

  What had happened to the sparks between them during the summer? Maybe the past had needed closure, and that was all. Maybe they had both wanted more than could ever be. He’d felt something tonight when he first saw her by the desk, but then whatever it was left, like air escaping from a tire.

  They cleared their plates after supper and Jonathan rejoined Todd in the den for the rest of the game. The score didn’t matter to him, or the fact that the Red Sox actually were within a game of winning the sectional title. Olivia waved to them in the den and left, a bundle of materials in her arms.

  Jonathan rounded up his courage, stuffed his pride and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Be right back.”

  He followed Olivia into the early October night. “Liv.”

  Olivia laid the bundle of materials on the roof of the car. “Yes?” She turned as she worked the key in the driver’s side lock.

  “What got your socks in a wrinkle?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  She bit her lower lip. “I—I don’t know how to say this.” She raised her hands, palms upward, and shrugged. A tentative step brought her closer to him. “I missed you, and you started talking about the desk.”

  Jonathan closed the gap. “Silly woman, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you, I—” Why were the words so hard to speak? Countless times over the past weeks he’d wanted to tell her somehow.

  “I’ve missed you, too. So much.” Olivia blinked rapidly, then gave him a slight smile. “I can’t deny you your dream. I can’t ask you to give up on what you want so badly. I’ve tried to trust God to watch out for you, tried not to worry, because I know that bothers you.”

  “I know you’re trying.” He allowed himself to cup her cheek with one hand. Her skin was the softest texture he’d touched in a long time.

  Olivia’s eyes closed, then she touched his hand and pulled it from her cheek. “I think it’s best, really, if we remain only friends.”

  Her statement nailed him like a punch. Jonathan lowered his hand. “You’re sure?”

  “It’s better that way.” She swept her fingers across her eyes. “I can’t keep putting myself—or you—through this turmoil. I think over time you’d come to resent my fear, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

  “Hold me back?” Jonathan could scarcely draw a breath. “Your fear doesn’t hold me back. I’m praying for you, and I know God can handle this.”

  She nodded. “He can, I’m sure. But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Olivia left, not meeting his eyes. Jonathan turned back to the house. Both the conversation and the night air left him numb.

  *

  Olivia’s high heels made a click-clack on the linoleum as she headed toward the elementary school auditorium. She wore her “power suit,” a tailored navy blue skirt and jacket. Atta girl, she’d told herself in the mirror. She could do this. The multimedia baggage rolled along behind her. Her first presentation as a representative of CICA, and her stomach was doing somersaults. She imagined a bubbling mass of one hundred third-graders waiting on the edge of their seats.

  One of the wheels of the luggage caught on a metal ridge inlaid in the linoleum. She stopped before the cart tipped over.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” a male voice said, just as Olivia turned and nearly ran into a surprised-looking man wearing a tie.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  He stumbled backward and her own imbalance carried her in his direction. A blur of khaki and white appeared before her eyes. He cushioned their fall to the tile floor. Olivia extricated herself from her awkward position as the man with laughing dark eyes caught his breath. He stood, then reached down to help her up. His hand was strong and warm. “You must be Olivia Shea from the whale institute. I’m Frank Pappalardo.”

  “Yes, that’s me.” Her face felt hot as she realized he still held her hand.

  Curly ebony hair with dark eyes to match showed Frank’s Portuguese ancestry. Somehow he looked familiar to her.

  “Ms. Shea, I know this is going to sound bad, but I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

  “I was going to say the same thing.” She felt a run bloom down one leg of her nylons. Great. “Um, I should get to the auditorium to set up.” She hoped she wasn’t sounding rude.

  “I can show you. Another teacher’s got my class for a few minutes.” Frank took the cart’s handle without asking. Olivia slung her purse over one shoulder and grasped her briefcase with her free hand.

  “Thanks.” She had to stride quickly to keep up with the man’s long steps. “Well, you said I looked familiar. Where do you think you’ve seen me?”

  “I’ve recently started attending Fairport Bible Fellowship, and I think maybe I’ve seen you there.”

  So that explained it. “Okay, that’s probably why I think I’ve seen you before, too.” She’d noticed him, but then what woman wouldn’t?

  During the walk through the hallway, Olivia discovered that their fathers probably knew
each other, they both liked making homemade pasta and they both were only children. This man piqued her interest, with his open and friendly demeanor. Not to mention an eye-catching smile.

  The auditorium doors loomed before them too soon, it seemed. Frank led the way to the platform and helped Olivia, whose fingers turned to all thumbs.

  Stop it. Focus. Olivia fumbled with the materials as the roomful of third-graders bounced on their seats and chattered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Frank maneuver his tall frame into an aisle seat.

  She missed Jonathan. That was all. The hair and eyes reminded her of him. Had he sailed out again? She steeled herself against the longing that threatened to bubble up. Remember, you’re to stay just friends with the man.

  Frank gave her a smile when he caught her eye, and she fought to keep her focus.

  She remembered little of what she said during the following hour, except the children were enthralled. Several volunteers helped her in the presentation. Afterward, the students filed out and Olivia packed her supplies. She wrangled the display materials down the hall and entered the school office to check out. Frank leaned against the counter.

  “Hi, again.” She smiled and signed out of the school roster.

  “I’ll see you Sunday morning?” He showed perfect teeth in a perfect mouth on a perfect face.

  “Yes, probably.” Olivia’s mind went blank. “I need to get back to the lab.”

  She would gladly relinquish this job to Maggie after she returned from maternity leave. Give her the lab work any day. Let Maggie worry about PR.

  But then you wouldn’t have run into Frank Pappalardo. She paused her mental circle of thoughts. Both she and Jonathan were free. They had come to an impasse. He wouldn’t give up his dream of the boat. She wouldn’t commit to a man who worked on the ocean. Why, then, did she feel that the idea of entertaining the attentions of another man was almost a betrayal?

  *

  Jonathan let the tape measure snap back into its case, then jotted down the figure on his notepad. He could smell the scent of Sam Shea’s pipe drifting in from the porch.

  “Liv’s going to flip when she sees you with that pipe,” Jonathan called out the front door.