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Authors: Beth Loughner

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BOOK: Bay Hideaway
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“What?” his deep voice taunted cruelly. “You don’t recognize your own husband?”

Judi went cold. What she wouldn’t do for a trapdoor to swallow her whole. Matter of fact, this would be a fine time to check out of the horrendous situation with an elaborate fainting spell like the heroines in those sappy novels, yet she knew even the most contrived luxury of unconsciousness would never happen for her. No, life would force her to be cognizant of every miserable second.

Unprepared! She felt utterly unprepared. After months of readiness, her preparation for such a moment had been stymied by the calm she’d experienced on the island. His impeccable shirt and tie routine didn’t help matters. He always dressed the part when he meant business, and right now the solemn expression on his face indicated every last fiber of his being was dead serious.

Biting back the fear, Judi cast Nathan an anxious glance. “What are you doing here?” she blurted.

He looked stunned at her question and laughed—a heartless, unamused laugh. Then his jaw squared and his eyes turned into chipped ice. “You’re unbelievable! I come to Bay Island to find my supposedly dead wife and all you can say is ‘What are you doing here?’ ”

“Yes!” she retorted, suddenly finding the strength to react. “It’s a perfectly good question. I don’t know how you found me, but it seems counterproductive to what you’ve always wanted.”

“Counterproductive to what
I’ve
always wanted?” Nathan repeated with contempt. “If you’re trying to confuse me, it won’t work!” His expression, however, told a different story. Judi knew the compressed lines in his forehead verified the perplexity he felt.

“What did you expect, Nathan?”

His gaze traveled slowly over her. “A good story perhaps. You have no amnesia tale or kidnapping conspiracy to bombard me with? No inconsolable tears of bewilderment?” When she gave no reaction, his face inched closer. “Maybe you do surprise me.”

Judi flushed but stood her ground. “You have no right to be here.”

“Really!” Slowly his hand reached out and she flinched as he touched her hair. “Red hair with the blended shade of creamy milk and strawberry.” When he switched his gaze back to her face she saw anger simmering beneath his cool exterior. “But changing your hair and name does not change the fact that you’re still my wife, Mrs. Whithorne. Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?” He shook his head at her. “You have a lot of explaining to do—a very lengthy and detailed discussion concerning your death and miraculous recovery.” He leaned closer still. “Will it be your place or mine?”

She took a quick step back and felt the strands of her loose hair cascade from his hand. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“No?”

“No!”

Both of his shoulders lifted with impatience, and Judi braced herself for his fuming. “That’s fine with me!” His voice rose a degree. “We can air our dirty laundry right here.” He swept a wide arc with his hands toward the passing tourists. “They don’t know me from Adam, but not so for you. How will the good folks of Bay Island react when they learn about your past? And you, a church secretary, too!” He gave her a sharp look. “I could also drag you to the island police station. You’re smart enough to know it would take only one call to let this faked-death scam explode all over you.”

Looking at his grim face, she knew he would make good on his threat. What she didn’t know was why. Why search for her? Why come for her at all? Visions of Pastor Taylor, Larry and Becky Newkirk, and Tilly Storm raged through her tumultuous thoughts. What if she called his bluff? Would her newfound friends understand her previous actions, the acts of a desperate woman?

“Still thinking?” he asked with deceptive laziness.

Judi felt unwell. “I don’t want to go with you.”

“No big revelation in that sentiment, is there?” His eyebrows shot upward sardonically. “For reasons which only you know, and I intend to discover, you went to great lengths to abandon me.”

Fingers numb from the heavy muffins, she shifted the bags slightly. “I can’t talk now,” she argued. “The ladies are waiting on the muffins.”

“Muffins!” he boomed and an incredulous expression crossed his facial features as he glanced down at the packages. He lifted eyes dark with bitterness and annoyance. “You’re up to your pretty little neck in trouble and you want to deliver muffins?”

Judi screwed her lips into a frown. “The ladies are expecting me and if I don’t show up soon, they’ll send a search party.” She eyed him with more courage than she felt. “If you want to talk, we’ll talk; but I have to stop by the church first.”

He seemed to consider her proposition and finally jerked a nod. “Good enough! But we go together.”

What choice did she have? As if to ensure her compliance, she felt his hand lightly guide her arm.

He looked down at her, his voice quite calm. “Where’s your car?”

“Cart,” she corrected and swallowed nervously. “I’m parked at the far end.” She pointed toward the ten-foot lighthouse replica near the entrance to the shopping center.

He said nothing more as she struggled to keep up with him. Her mind raced ahead. What was she to do? She could have easily refused to accompany him or even screamed her fool head off as a means of rescue, but he held a mighty sword over her. Those she’d come to care about, and even love, would be devastated by her deception. The important question remained unanswered—what did he want?

Judi reached her golf cart in a daze and absently pulled a set of keys from the pocket of her skirt.

“Nice set of wheels,” he commented, rolling his eyes.

Feeling her face flush, she bit back the retort so close to her lips. What did Nathan know about financial struggles? With great effort, she contained herself. “It’s what I can afford.”

He lifted one eyebrow a fraction and seemed to consider her. “I’m taking exception to the mode of transportation, not the model.” He looked over the golf cart and frowned. “Does anyone on the island own a car?”

“Of course!” Judi countered impatiently. “Golf carts are not only easier on fuel but traffic congestion, as well—especially during the height of tourist season.” She placed the muffins in the back compartment and sat in the driver’s seat. Immediately she noticed his expression of disapproval. A touch of frustration filled her voice. “I suppose you want to drive?”

For a moment, it looked like he might push the issue, but instead he walked over to the passenger side. “Just be sure to keep this buggy on the road.” He climbed in with great effort, ducking his head until he settled into the seat, his peppered hair nearly touching the roof. He turned to look at her. “If you’re having any thoughts of running us over an embankment and into Lake Erie, squelch the idea. One drowning in the family is enough, don’t you think?”

“Very funny!”

A muscle tightened in his cheek. “It wasn’t meant to be funny.”

Judi caught his hard, incisive look and her insides quaked. Quickly she snapped on the lap belt and twisted the ignition key forward. The electric engine came to life.

Nathan had aged plenty in two years. Was this the same man she had passionately loved and married? The same man who had soon realized what a liability she was to his cherished aspirations for a successful political career? Their castle-in-the-sky marriage had turned out quite different than she’d imagined. Relentless hostility from his family was difficult enough, but having Nathan turn on her had hurt more than she could endure. He had wanted her out of the picture, and she obliged by leaving permanently—what more did the man want?

“By the way,” he asked, holding on to the seat frame as she entered the main road. “Do you know how to swim?”

Judi looked sharply at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gravel spewed from under the wheels of the golf cart when she veered slightly off the road and onto the rocky berm. Quickly she corrected the wheel.

He frowned again. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to let you drive.”

“What did you mean by that last remark, Nathan?” She felt her heart begin to pound. Did he intend to harm her? If he thought she would be a docile lamb going to the slaughter, he had better think again.

He gave a wry smile. “I mean, you should keep your eyes on the road.”

“Not that remark!” she cut in.

It seemed to take him a moment to follow her thought. “About swimming?”

“You know very well what I meant.”

Sudden enlightenment lit his face. “You think…” He paused, a look of skepticism now moving across his features. “You think I’m planning to toss you to the fishes in an ironic gesture of revenge?” When she didn’t answer, he gave a grunt. “That’s a cheap shot, Judi, even for you. I might be angry, but I’d never lay a hand on you. Never have! Never will!” He made a little move of impatience. “I didn’t come all this way to settle a score.”

Her face grew hot under his scrutiny. “Then why did you come?”

Silence greeted her inquiry and she drew a deep breath, unable to take her eyes from his lean, attractive face. Again, the wheels swerved off the road and once more she corrected them. She felt his burning gaze on her.

“Pull over!” he commanded with a sigh. “You’re going to land both of us in the water or the briars or both.”

Judi eased the vehicle onto the stony berm and set the brake. With trembling fingers, she fumbled with the clasp of the seat belt. It refused to budge.

Nathan reached over and with one flick, easily unsnapped the belt. “My visit is making you a total wreck, isn’t it?”

She let the belt fall over the side and pushed herself out of the seat. “What did you expect?”

They crossed paths in front of the cart, staring at one another as they passed, and took their respective seats.

“I’m not sure what I expected from you,” he answered, releasing the brake. “It’s not every day a man finds his dead wife.” Glancing in the side-view mirror, he edged the cart back onto the road. “We take this road until it comes to Bayshore Drive?”

She gave him a stunned perusal before nodding. “Yes.”

His glance seemed to appraise her swiftly before returning to the road. “I made a point of knowing the layout of the island before I came. You know I’m a man of details.”

Disconcerted, Judi turned her head away and watched the scenery pass. Although the hot sun bore down on the island, the lake provided a fresh breeze, which now cooled her skin as the golf cart pushed past the shoreline. They rode in silence for several minutes. Nathan claimed he wasn’t after revenge. Claimed he wasn’t here to harm her. What could he possibly want if it wasn’t to even the score or worse—finish the job?

“I believe this is your church.” His voice was a harsh intrusion into her thoughts.

Judi looked up to see the redbrick church come into view. Beautiful white shutters adorned the long line of windows on either side of the main doors. The roof gradually swooped toward heaven until it peaked with the church steeple. The vented tower housed a bona fide church bell and an equally impressive heavily twined rope. One pull of the cord and the deep chime of the bell would effortlessly resonate over the entire island. Sadly, a few Sunday morning sleepyheads complained to the city council last year and the bell now remained silent except for special occasions.

Nathan turned the golf cart into the gravel parking lot and deftly parked the machine near the entrance. “Shall we go in?”

She slid out. “You could wait for me here,” she suggested, bending down to look at him under the roof.

“Sorry!” He swung his long legs out. “You can’t get rid of me that easily—again.” Grabbing all three shopping bags, he nodded toward the doors. “After you.”

Judi took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar tarlike scent that multiplied tenfold on sunny, sizzling days. The church had recently oiled the stony parking lot to keep the constantly resurfacing dirt from dusting everything in its path during the windy summer months. The odor reminded her of the private swimming pool parking lot she used to cross as a shortcut to the public recreation center as a child. Other children, clad in brightly colored swimsuits, happily disappeared into the pool area through the tall multifingered, moving turnstile. Her father never had the money to afford a pool membership. Occasionally, she was lucky enough to pass through the metal gate herself if she had a dollar and could find a member-friend to vouch for her. The pool was bigger than anything she’d ever seen, its depths clear and blue.

Memories now swirled around her; smelling the mixture of chlorine, coconut suntan lotion, and tar; how the bottoms of her blue flip-flops would be black from the oiled parking lot. Several years later, the pool closed and a paving company purchased the land, filled in the cavernous indigo pool with dirt, and blacktopped over the entire area. The transition only marked another sad step in the changes she would experience between her youth and adulthood.

“Are you ready?” Nathan was asking, nodding toward the church entrance.

From the look on his face, Judi suspected it wasn’t the first time he’d asked her this very same question. The brilliant sun now felt blistering and the breeze nonexistent.

She nodded and without a word they walked to the set of double doors. Cool air shot past her as she opened the door and followed Nathan to just inside the foyer. Judi stopped to push tangled hair, now damp with perspiration, from her face.

“The door to your right,” she directed, still pondering what she should do next in a short, quick prayer.

When no answer popped from heaven, she once again opened the door for Nathan. As he moved through the opening, he shot her a palpable glance of caution. She knew what rattled through his brain. He was warning her to be careful with her words, knowing that within the next few moments, the future course of her life could suddenly and irrevocably be changed. She held the next playing card, but he owned the trump. Then why did her focus now haphazardly draw to his chin and its vulnerable-looking cleft?

When she finally tore her gaze from Nathan, three pairs of curious eyes greeted the two. Larry Newkirk abruptly stopped rolling up the building plans, and even the robust Tilly Storm silenced herself midsentence from an obviously intense discussion. Only seventy-something Lottie BonDurant seemed unmoved by the interruption, fidgeting about and clearing her throat unnecessarily loudly. Becky was nowhere in sight.

BOOK: Bay Hideaway
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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