Enchanting Lily (17 page)

“The beacon was for the older ships, the ones that ran on sails instead of steam. Not because these waters were treacherous, but to guide them south into the Sound. There are some strong currents along the west side of the island here.”

To the left, near the waterfront, a series of square concrete buildings stretched out in rows, like battle fortifications. “What are those?” she asked, pointing. “They look like something out of a science fiction movie.”

“Used to be our hidden army base here, a lookout. See that cannon, the black one?”

“That’s a real cannon?”

“Used to defend our coastline. Everything’s been decommissioned now. Kids like to climb on the old foundations. There are drop-offs and signs reading
Falling Can Be Deadly
.”

“So it can.” In more ways than one. She was beginning to shiver, but she felt she could stay up there, standing next to Ben, looking out on the blustery shoreline, forever. “What’s that brown lump in the grass?”

“That’s one of the island’s many rabbits. We had a program to trap and neuter them, but we can never get all of them. That one looks like a wild rabbit, though.”

“It’s so large.”

“They do get big here. Too bad Miss Marmalade isn’t here to catch them. She was the lighthouse cat for many years. She kept the ghosts in line, too.”

“Ghosts?”

“Word was, the ghosts of sailors lost at sea would follow the beacon inland and haunt the lighthouse. Miss Marmalade scared them away. Something about her orange color.”

“Miss Marmalade. I like that name.”

He stepped closer to her. Now she could see the stubble on his jaw, the lines on his skin, the bluish tint in his pale gray eyes. She wanted to touch his cheek. She curled her
fingers into the palms of her hands, which were safely ensconced in her pockets now.

He took another step, even closer. Was he going to kiss her? If he tried, she thought she might faint. No, he pointed at something past her, out the window to the north. “Just over those hills, there’s a great walk along the bluff. It was even featured in
Sunset
magazine. On a better day, I’ll show you. And the views are breathtaking.” But he was looking at her, not at the view. She could smell his fresh soap, the hint of promise.
On a better day, I’ll show you.

“On a better day, a hike would be great.” A different woman spoke, not her—someone who felt hopeful and reckless. Now she could feel his breath on her cheek. Anything could happen, anything at all.

Then he stepped back, away from her, and her heart fell. Could she be disappointed? Did she want him to kiss her, despite everything? Had she been waiting for him to try? But she realized he would not. He wouldn’t kiss her because he viewed her as a widow in mourning. Because his own wife had left him and he had not recovered.

“Come on, I have another place to show you,” he said, heading back to the staircase to wait for her.

“I can make it down on my own,” she said.

“If you’re sure.” He stopped on the top step with his gloved hand on the railing. For a split second, she pictured
him taking off the glove, touching her cheek. She shouldn’t imagine such things. They both had enough baggage between them to fill an airport conveyor belt.

“The place I wanted to take you is the graveyard,” he said. “It’s rich with history, but maybe it’s not a place you want to go?”

“I don’t mind at all,” she said. She wondered if she might see Josh there. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Ghosts were drawn to headstones, weren’t they? He didn’t have one—no burial place, no particular spot where family could go to remember him. If he’d gone anywhere after she’d seen him standing in the street, it would surely have been the cemetery.

Lily

The old part of the graveyard sat on a gentle, sloped hillside surrounded by rolling farmlands. Old Victorian farmsteads still dotted the fields, and beyond the graveyard, the sea sparkled through the trees, the Olympic Mountains rising jagged and white in the distance. Ben led Lily up the path, past the new section, then veered to a spot where weathered marble headstones rose above the earth, shaded by ancient fir and maple and oak trees.

“This is where you’ll find the history of the island,” he said, taking her to a well-kept family plot, lush with trees
and flowers. He showed her the granite headstones for his grandparents. “I spent summers with them, on their farm,” he said. “I always tended to their animals. I wanted to be a large animal vet for a while. I still sometimes help people out, but I migrated to smaller animals.”

“So it was always your dream to be a vet.”

He nodded. “What was yours?”

“I actually always loved to create things,” she said, staring off toward the water. “I dressed up my dolls in little retro-cool outfits. I ripped up Barbie doll clothes and remade them. My friends thought I was crazy. I liked to draw pictures of way-out-there clothes, like from science fiction.”

“How did you end up in business?”

“I studied design. But my parents wanted me to be practical. They were immigrants, my mother from India, my dad from Ireland. They met here after they moved to America. They were both trying to make a go of their lives. They saw drawing and design as too whimsical. And then I met Josh and fell in love, and he was so creative—his creativity eclipsed mine.”

“But not anymore.”

“Not anymore.”

“We never know how things are going to turn out.”

“Like your wife leaving you?”

“Yeah. She was a planner. She must’ve been planning her departure for months, but I was blind. I had no idea it was coming. Now you could say I’ve become cautious.”

“I don’t blame you.” But according to Paige, he hadn’t been cautious—he’d gone a little crazy for a while.

He led her to the oldest graves in the cemetery. “Captain Fairport is buried right here,” he said, pointing to an Eiffel Tower-shaped headstone.

“Fairport was named after him?” In the biting wind, her nose was going numb. She tightened the string of her hood.

“He was beheaded by a group of Tlingit warriors. They stormed his house and killed him in retaliation for the murder of twenty-seven members of their tribe.”

“I knew we had a violent past, but it’s hard to imagine.” She shivered.

“You’re cold.” He put an arm around her, drawing her close to him. He felt solid, durable. “Should we go back to the car?”

“No, I’m okay. Really, I want to stay.” She didn’t care that the wind whipped her face, that her jeans were damp from the rain, her feet soaked and nearly numb inside her running shoes. She nearly forgot that she’d agreed to come here to look for evidence of Josh.

“A U.S. warship had already killed several members of the Tlingit tribe,” Ben went on. “They were getting payback. Life seems pretty benign and calm these days compared to what went on back then.”

She nodded, her teeth chattering. She was distracted by his nearness, by the warmth she could feel through their jackets. His body felt like a furnace.

He led her to the next set of graves, a marble headstone engraved on two sides with the names of two different children, one who had died at age three, the other at age seven. “They hardly had a chance to live,” she said, touching the engraved names. Their short lives suddenly put Josh’s life into perspective. At least he’d had a chance to grow up, find his profession, make a mark on the world, and fall in love. At least she’d had a decade with him.

“Times were tough,” Ben said. “People died young.”

“But not always. Look, there’s a woman who died at age ninety-six. Muriel Racer. Is that her real name?”

“And she’s buried right next to Swift,” Ben said. “Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“I wish I had my camera.” She shivered again.

Ben ran his hand up and down her arm, pulling her closer. “You’re numb. Sorry, this hasn’t been much of a date so far.”

“This is the most unusual date, but in a good way.”

He grinned. “Are you hungry? I want to take you to dinner. I was saving the best part for last.”

“Dinner? Where?”

“It’s a surprise. I’ll take you home first so you can put on some dry clothes, and then we’ll go.” He pulled her close, his arms around her. She could feel the strength of his heartbeat. But still, he didn’t kiss her. He took her hand and led her back to the truck.

Lily

“One big step.” Ben reached out his hand from inside the boat. Lily held her breath and stepped off the dock, more like a leap into his arms. The small motorboat swayed dangerously. In the darkening evening, the rain spit down in a cool mist, but the ocean was, thankfully, calm. But Lily still shivered, her teeth chattering again.

“Best way to see the Puget Sound is from the water,” Ben said, handing her an orange life jacket.

“You’re right. This is quite a surprise.” She followed
him into the tiny forward cabin, unsteady on her feet. “Bish didn’t mention a boat.”

“She gets deathly seasick, and since Altona left, I don’t take the boat out much anymore.”

The name, Altona, put a damper on the evening, but what did Lily expect? She was conscious of Josh looking over her shoulder at every juncture.

“Sure you know what you’re doing? What if we capsize?” she said, only half-joking.

Ben winked at her, his face suddenly handsome in the harbor light. “If we do, I’ll rescue you. Promise. I got my life-saving credentials. Seriously, though, I’ve been doing this all my life. First on my dad’s catamarans, sailboats, speedboats, you name it.”

“I’m reassured.” She sat on a hard plastic bench while he turned on the motor and steered the boat out of the harbor. The noise seared her eardrums as they picked up speed, crashing and bumping through the waves. The wind whipped her face.

Ben kept talking to her as he steered the boat away from shore, but she only pretended to understand his words, which were lost in the noise. She nodded now and then as he pointed toward the forested shoreline. Even though he wore a puffy parka, she could make out the contours of muscle, his broad shoulders.

“…depth finder,” he said, pointing to a gauge on the control panel. “…shallow spots…have to know your way around.”

The farther they traveled from shore, the freer she felt. It was good to be out on the water, the boat pounding across the waves, rattling her bones. She felt fully alive, and the roar of the engine drowned out her fears, her memories. Ben’s deep, rumbling voice, and his gloved hand pointing out various features of the shoreline, exhilarated her.

She moved up close to him, and he looked at her and smiled in surprise. “You’re cute in that life jacket,” he said, putting an arm around her.

Had he just called her cute?

“I look like an orange gorilla,” she said.

“You could never look like a gorilla. You’re way too pretty.” He kept his left arm on the steering wheel, his right arm around her.

When was the last time she’d felt pretty? “So are you,” she said. “Not pretty, I mean. Handsome.” She had just complimented Ben. No turning back.

He grinned and winked at her, surprising her again. She hadn’t thought him capable of winking. She was glad he couldn’t see her blushing in the semi-darkness.

“Where are we going?” she said.

“Like I said, it’s a surprise.” He gave her a look that
suggested all kinds of things, and she smiled and shook her head. Men were unabashed about the pure pleasures—food and adventure and sex. When had she lost her own love for life?

She hadn’t thought much about food for a long time. Now the cold night air, all the exercise she’d been getting, and being close to him, made her more than hungry. She was famished. She turned her face into the wind as he maneuvered the boat through the Sound. The lights of Fairport faded behind them.

Soon he cut the engine, navigating the boat into a narrow harbor. Lily could see lights winking on a hill above the shoreline. “What’s this place? Is this still Shelter Island?”

“This is West Harbor,” he said.

“It’s neat to see it from this angle.”

“Best restaurant on the island is here, but it takes a long time to get up there if you drive.”

“Really?”

“Okay, no, but it’s more romantic to take the boat.”

“Yes, it is.” His efforts to be romantic were endearing as well. She hadn’t expected it.

He maneuvered the boat against the dock, moored it there, and helped her out. Then he led her along the dock
and up into town. West Harbor felt different from Fairport—new and modern. She looked into boutique and restaurant windows as they walked. In a few pubs, youngsters drank beer and laughed.

“Just one more block,” he said, taking her arm. He led her into a crowded restaurant, West Harbor Seafood, overlooking the water. The lights were dim, the atmosphere casual but homey. But in the entryway, they were jostled by the crowd that spilled out onto the sidewalk.

“I had no idea about this place,” she said. “Where do all these people come from?”

“Best-kept secret,” he said, close to her because of the crowd. “They probably sailed in from the city.” His breath smelled minty and fresh. Everything about him was fresh and inviting. Even his pale gray eyes.

“But how will we ever get a table?” she said. “The hostess just told those people—”

“We have a reservation,” he said, taking her hand. He led her through the crowd to the counter. “Ben Cole, reservation for two,” he said.

The hostess smiled at him and grabbed two menus. “Right this way.”

They followed her to a small table by the window. They were away from the crowd, and their table had a lit candle
on the tablecloth. Warm air flowed gently from a heating vent in the ceiling. Outside, the sky had cleared, the moon throwing pools of mottled white light across the ocean.

“Enjoy.” The waitress handed them the menus and walked away.

“This is beautiful,” Lily said, sitting across from him. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” She wondered how many other women he had brought here, how many times he’d come here with Altona. She imagined sitting here across from Josh. He would’ve appreciated the ambience, the view, the menu. He had been very sensual. She had to stop thinking of him. She grabbed her purse. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.”