by Jane Peart
“In search of travel, adventure—and romance?” T.J. prompted.
“Well, adventure and travel, anyway,” she laughed.
“No romance? Isn’t there someone special in your life?”
“No, no one. Not at the moment.” She felt like squirming under his skeptical glance.
“That’ hard to believe.”
Flustered, Robbie reached for her purse and sweater.
“Believe it. It’s true. Shall we go?” She wanted to end this line of personal questioning.
T. J. rose, held out her chair for her, and said, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but your diplomacy is a fine example of Trans-Con’s training. You know how to deal with pushy inquisitive males.”
Robbie looked up at him and said archly, “See that you Pl1t that in your flight report, Captain.”
“For sure!” He put his hand under her elbow and smiled down at her as he guided her deftly through the tables and out again into the street and the afternoon sunshine.
They strolled leisurely along the curving narrow streets, pausing here and there to admire a window display of fine china or ruby glass or antiques. Then they turnep into a side street, no more than a small lane, and came quite unexpectedly upon a bay-windowed gift shop and art gallery tucked between two other stores.
Entering the gallery, they found it to be well lighted with nicely hung paintings of flowers, seascapes, and some familiar Bermuda landmarks. As they wandered about, Robbie spotted a small, watercolor painting that immediately caught her eye. She moved nearer and stopped to have a closer look.
It was of a pink, white-shuttered, typical Bermudian cottage, nestled in a cluster of flowering, wind-twisted trees. In the foreground was an irregular cobblestone wall, over which clambered climbing roses. A small wooden gate stood open, as if inviting one in to the charming garden.
Tyler came and stood behind her while she gazed. Finally she said softly, “I think I’ll boy this if it’s not too expensive. It really captures Bermuda for me, and who knows when I’ll get back here? I always like to have something special from a place I’ve been to take home with me—to remember it by.”
He was watching her with a thoughtful expression. “Wait here. I’ll go ask the gallery manager the price.” He was gone and Robbie continued to look at several other paintings by the same artist. Then she returned to stand in front of the one she still liked the best.
Tyler came back and told her how much the small painting was.
“Wonderful!” Robbie said excitedly. It just happened to be well within the price range she had mentally allowed herself to spend.
The purchase made and the painting wrapped and tied, they walked back to King’s Square and boarded the bus to the ferry landing. Seated beside her, Tyler seemed preoccupied looking out the window. After a while he turned to Robbie, tapped the painting, and asked, “Is that a picture of your ‘dream house’?”
“Oh, don’t know. But it is something one might dream of owning some day,” she said somewhat shyly.
“I think it is, maybe subconsciously. You impress me as the kind of girl who would dream of living in a rose-covered cottage with all that implies.”
“Is that bad?” she asked, feeling a little uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze.
“Not bad, just different. Most women nowadays think mote along the lines of a luxury high-rise condo complete with swimming pool, jacuzzi, and sauna,” he laughed, shrugging.
“Well, of course, this particular cottage would have to be set on a cliff overlooking a coral beach in Bermuda!” Robbie smiled.
They arrived at the ferry landing just in time to board the ferry back to the hotel. It was beautiful crossing the bay in the late afternoon. The water was a mosaic of deep blue green and golden reflections from the low-slanting rays of the sun. They sat quietly, enclosed by the sights and sounds of being on the water, but Robbie did not feel uncomfortable at their lack of conversation.
It was only when they got back to the hotel that she felt slightly awkward. She did not want him to feel trapped into spending the evening with her, so she held out her hand and said, “Well, thank you for a wonderful day, Captain Lang.”
There was a glint of irritation in his eyes. “Captain Lang?” he repeated.
Robbie felt her face redden and she said quickly, “Tyler—or do you prefer T. J. ?”
“Most of my friends call me Ty,” he said bruskly. “Well …Ty…thanks for everything.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to say something. Then he just nodded and spun around, heading toward the hotel with long strides.
She stood there looking after him, watching his tall figure enter the hotel bar. For some reason the pleasant afternoon dimmed. Something subtle had changed the nice flow between them. Robbie was not sure what, but she had definitely felt a coolness.
Well, whatever had changed the atmosphere between them, she was not going to let it spoil the memory of her experience in St. George. It had been wonderful, and she had this marvelous little painting to help her remember a beautiful day.
Suddenly feeling tired, Robbie decided to take a swim. The idea of relaxing in the pool, then showering and going to bed sounded wonderful.
Most of the swimmers had departed for the hotel lounge or an evening at some of the many tourist’ attractions the island offered. Again Robbie had the luxury of the pool almost to herself. After a refreshing, relaxing hour she returned to her cottage, passing on the way several couples holding hands or with their arms about each other’s waists, strolling toward the hotel terrace. For a moment Robbie felt a pang of indescribable loneliness, a sudden longing to belong to someone who loved her with all the singleness of passion, caring, and tenderness of these honeymooners. She recalled her answer to Tyler Lang’s probing this afternoon, when she had said there was “no one special” in her life just now. It was true, and she felt a sudden sadness about it. Would it ever be different for her? She was still troubled by a lingering melancholy as she opened the door of her cottage.
To her surprise, her phone was ringing as she stepped inside the bungalow. She was even more surprised to hear Tyler’s voice, asking, “How would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow?”
“A picnic?” Robbie echoed, startled.
“I was just sitting here thinking about you, and it struck me that you were the sort of girl to take on a picnic. I know this marvelous little cove, a kind of private beach, an easy distance from the hotel where we could spend the day swimming and looking for shells. So what do you say?”
“It sounds like great fun,” she said, conscious of an excited little tingle.
“Can you ride a moped?” was’ the next question.
“As a matter of fact, yes!” she answered. The last time she had gone home on vacation her younger brother had just bought one, and Robbie had learned to ride one then.
“Fine! The hotel will fix us a box lunch to take along. I’ll meet you in front of the hotel about nine.
” Feeling foolishly happy, Robbie hung up.
Chapter Five
With a cloudless blue sky overhead, the sun warm on their backs, and the cool wind of early morning on their faces, Robbie and Tyler maneuvered the rented mopeds along the winding road leading from the hotel to the beach.
Wheeling along under the crimson canopy of arched poinciana trees, they passed through typical Bermuda residential sections. The pastel colors of these uniquely painted homes, mingled with the glorious multicolored flower gardens, reminded Robbie of French impressionist paintings.
They waved to groups of children, in bright uniforms, walking along the roadside on their way to school. The youngsters smiled and waved back.
“Almost makeme feel like we’re playing hooky!” Tyler called to her after they had sped by a cluster of uniformed schoolboys.
“I know! Me, tool” laughed Robbie.
In a way, that was exactly how she did feel. All this beauty surrounding her, the ‘sense of expectancy about the day ahead,
and the feeling of freedom, combined with another, not so easily defined sensation, gave Robbie a lightheadedness. She had never felt so buoyant or so full of a kind of incandescent joy. She glanced over at Tyler and he was smiling, too.
“We’re almost there!” he shouted. “Make a slow right at the next turn.”
They veered off onto aside road that was nothing more than a footpath, and she slowed her moped to follow his in single file.
“We can park our bikes here and climb down to the cove;’ Tyler said, rolling his moped over behind some hibiscus bushes. He then turned and took hers. He removed the basket containing the box lunches the hotel had packed for them, and held out his hand to Robbie. “Come on, I can’t wait for you to see my favorite beach.”
The path was hidden from the roadway by the full, flowering bushes on the hillside, but it was an easy descent for Robbie, following Tyler.
When they reached the bottom and Robbie saw the crescent of pinkish sand and the curve of turquoise water rolling onto it in lacy scallops; she gave a small gasp of pleasure. “Oh, how perfect!”
“I knew you’d love it!” Tyler grinned. He set down the lunch basket, along with a daypack he’d carried, and then challenged her, “Let’s not waste a minute. I’ll race you into the surf.”
They had worn their bathing suits under their sports outfits. It took Robbie only a moment to unzip her jumpsuit and run down to the ocean’s edge. T. J. was right beside her and grabbed her hand as they plunged into the waves. For at least a half hour they dived, ducked, swam and bodysurfed like two playful dolphins. Then they floated leisurely on the swells for another half hour.
Every once in a while, Robbie felt like pinching herself to be sure that she actually was enjoying herself halfway around the world from her everyday life. It was pure fantasy to be sure!
Finally, breathless and panting, they waded into shallower water and onto the beach. They stood at the water’s edge breathing deeply and laughing.
“That was some dip!” Tyler shook his hair out of his eyes. “And you’re some swimmer. I was beginning to wonder if you had fins!” His eyes swept over Tyler slim figure in the striking blue maillot.
Robbie suddenly felt self-conscious, as much aware of herself as of Tyler, whose sleek, muscular body was glistening in his swimsuit like molten bronze. 1b cover her inner confusion she exclaimed; “I’m absolutely starved. Let’s see what’s in our box lunches.” She started walking toward the spot where they had left their things.
Tyler threw her a speculative glance but only said, “Sure, let’s go.”
“So this is what Bermudians call a picnic!” commented Robbie as they opened up their boxes. “It looks more like a gourmet feast!”
Tyler spread out the small tablecloth that had been folded on top of the box between their two beach towels. With a sly grin he handed her a folded cloth napkin. “You’ve heard of Englishmen dressing for dinner in the jungle, haven’t you? Well, Bermudians picnic in style.”
“You can say that again!” Robbie murmured as he began to unpack plastic containers. Immediately ‘Tyler repeated, “Bermudians picnic in style.”
Robbie laughed. She couldn’t remember when she had laughed as much as she had today, with Tyler.
Hungry from the fresh air, sun, and exercise, they ate heartily of the delicious food—sliced breast of chicken and crusty French rolls, accompanied by small containers of butter, mayonnaise, mustard, olives, and pickles. There was also pate, rye crackers, fresh pears, lemon pound cake, and two Thermos containers—one of limeade, the other of hot coffee.
As they sipped their coffee, Robbie watched the breakers roll in in cobalt cruves and spread in lazy arcs on the sand. She sighed contentedly and, when she turned to say something to Tyler, found him staring at her.
He smiled and squinted his eyes and asked, “Do you believe in fate?”
“I don’t know. Possibly,” she replied slowly.
“Did you ever wonder how I happened to be taking this flight and you were called in on ‘reserve’ to work it?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I was surprised, but…”
“I’ve been flying vacation-relief,” Tyler told her. “That’s how I happened to be in Chicago the day we met. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that those two unrelated incidents brought us together?”
Robbie’s heart quickened unaccountably. Where was Tyler’s train of conversation leading them? Into dangerous territory was her second thought. “I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that. I take things pretty much as they come,” she said lightly. Then she changed the subject quickly by asking, “How did you start flying?”
“I got into it in college, did my service stint in the Navy, and got into commercial flying after that.”
He seemed to take her cue, and their subsequent conversation became light and general. In a little while it trailed off entirely, and they stretched out on their towels to sun.
Robbie gazed at the seemingly endless horizon. The water, flowed onto the pink sand in variegated’ shades of blue, from azure to sparkling sapphire to jade: Above, seagulls swooped with lavender-tinged wings against the cloudless sky. It was all so beautiful that it made her heart soar with unexpected happiness.
Watching the roll of the breakers had a mesmerizing effect and Robbie began to feel drowsy. At the same time, she was very aware of Tyler lying beside her, only an arm’s length away. It was a situation tingling with provocative possibilities—the two of them on a deserted beach, alone, thousands of miles from any-one who knew them. Robbie thought of all the things she had heard about Tyler. Had it all’ been hearsay? Rumor? Fabrication? She did not know what to believe. Tyler’s behavior toward her had been above reproach. There had been nothing to make her feel uncomfortable or apprehensive, even in a situation that might be considered potentially intimate. He had been a perfect Southern gentleman.
The more she was with him, the less Tyler resembled her preconceived ideas about him. Maybe he had projected a certain kind of image to make himself less vulnerable, accessible. Or, maybe, as she had originally stated to jean, she was definitely not his type. But what was his type? What sort of a girl would T.J. Lang really fall in love with? Who would induce him to make a forever kind of commitment?
Robbie sat up suddenly, hugging her knees. Beside her, Tyler raised his head and asked, “Something wrong?”
“No. I was just thinking that this is nearly as perfect a day as I can imagine,” she declared, looking out at the sea. She took a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. “I just wish I could somehow take it all back with me and on those gray days pull it out and live it all over again.”
“You could bid on this run,” T. J. suggested.
“Me and a hundred other stews with more seniority!” she laughed.
This has been a wonderful day, maybe the best of my life so far, Robbie thought with startling clarity. She turned to look down at Tyler’s tawny head resting on his folded arms, his lean, tanned body stretched out alongside her, and she drew in her breath. Had it been because of him? She would certainly never have had days like yesterday and today if it had not been for Tyler Lang. The fact that he had chosen to be with her, making her time in Bermuda so special, created a funny little quiver. Was it possible, after all her determination to resist, that she was falling under the magnetic spell of this worldly, sophisticated pilot?
Just then Tyler stirred, stretched, and languidly pulled himself into a sitting position. He glanced at her with a reluctant smile. “I hate to say it, but I guess we’d better start back.”
“I know,” She agreed, sighing.
Overhead drifting clouds threw abstract patterns on the sand in purple shadows. White caps whipped by a brisk wind danced on the blue-green sea.
The wind off the ocean was growing chilly as they gathered up their belongings and started up the hill to where they had left the mopeds. Robbie was ahead on the path up the slight incline, with Tyler following, when a stone rolled under
her footstep and she suddenly slithered backward, almost losing her balance. His arms caught her and held her until she steadied herself—and then a little longer. Feeling the strength of his arms around her, Robbie was newly aware of him, but she lingered only a moment. Then, laughing somewhat self-consciously, she told him, “I’m okay now.” She pulled away and ran the rest of the way up.
But whatever had happened in those few seconds; Robbie felt shaken by it and a little frightened. Was it possible that she was just as susceptible to Tyler’s legendary charm as all those girls she had pitied for falling for him?
“I hate to see this day end, Tyler admitted after they had turned in their mopeds and were walking along the flower-bordered paths behind the hotel to their cottages. He caught Robbie’s hand, swinging it slightly, then halted at one of the little recessed vistas overlooking the harbor. “Let’s sit here and watch the afterglow.”
He gestured to the white, wrought-iron bench facing the ocean. They sat down together, gazing out at the shifting colors painted by the evening shadows on the now-quiet sea. A flash of rainbow sail caught Robbie’s eye; and she watched as a small boat drifted into its mooring for the night. Gradually, like filmy silk 5carves flung carelessly, streaks of pink, mauve, violet, and orange spread across the sky.
Tyler’s arm draped along the back of the bench casually found Robbie’s shoulder. His hand touched her hair and gently turned her head toward him.
This close, Robbie saw that his eyes were more blue than gray as she had thought. Neither were they cold or calculating, as had been her first impression. As he looked at her now, they seemed kind and almost tender.
“Have dinner with me, Robbie. This is our last night in Bermuda and I don’t want to waste it. Clive and the others were talking about going out to some bistro and listening to a band that’s all the rage now on the island. But I’d rather not. What I’d like is a quiet dinner for two—just us—on the hotel dining terrace. How about it?”
“What about the others?” The last thing that Robbie wanted was false rumors circulating about her and Tyler.