Island Hearts (Jenny's Turn and Stray Lady) (12 page)

Jenny glared at Jake. “Why? Getting us through the narrows isn’t going to help you get me back to work.”

Jake shrugged. Jenny demanded, “Or is it just another one of your attempts to run my life?”

“I guess that’s it,” he agreed. George let out a soft noise that might have been a giggle.

Jenny ignored her, anger in her voice as she demanded, “The book— this book says the narrows shouldn’t be navigated without intimate local knowledge. Do you have intimate local knowledge?”

“I know the way through.” He was smiling, knowing she wanted him to lose that cool control, to be goaded into anger. What was getting into her? Looking for fights with Jake was asking for trouble.

She took refuge in the details of navigation. “You said the passage was well marked?”

“It is,” he agreed with a slight smile. “And there’s more than one wreck visible on shore.”

Jenny paused, knowing he had her on this one. George was looking on Jake with approval, evidently glad of the offer of guidance. There wasn’t much she could do about it. Jake would be guiding them, but she didn’t have to like it.

She sat down beside George, directly facing Jake. “How come you’re so available to help us, Jake? How are you managing time to follow us around the Pacific? Don’t you have to go back to work?”

He picked up his own cup and sipped before he answered. Today he was wearing a heavily-knit Indian sweater that carried a stylized raven design. He looked like one of the locals. She tried to close her eyes and imagine him back in the city. He was less dangerous there, easier to handle – if Jake could ever be described as easy to handle!

“I’ll go back to Vancouver this afternoon on the jet from Sandspit. I’ve only been away three days – a weekend’s work will catch it up.”

“Then you don’t need me, do you? If it only takes a couple of days to catch up.”

His eyes flashed, but his voice was neutral. “I’ll fly back next Wednesday. I have an aunt living in Queen Charlotte – George has her number now. When you get to the west side of the narrows, you can call me—”

“Call you? How?”

“Radiophone. Yours is working now – David fixed it. A loose wire.”

“Oh. So I’ll call.” She glared at him, but it made no impression at all. “I suppose there’s no point telling you to get out of my life?”

“No point at all,” he agreed mildly, refusing to rise to her anger. His smile infuriated her.

“And what about your work?” she demanded again. “A week here. A week there. Unless Austin Media has changed, it’s not enough. There’s still two episodes in the Great Hamburger Caper to be filmed, aren’t there? And the Eglinton film.”

“Only one hamburger episode. I’ve managed to finish one, and I’ve left Hans working on the last one— what did you say?”

“Nothing.” Giving her opinion of Hans wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere.

She took her cup to the sink as Jake informed her, “I thought I’d take you sightseeing this morning.”

She wanted to see his islands, but ... She stared down at the cup in her hands, admitting to herself that she’d missed him terribly ever since she got off that jet in Ketchikan. Now, knowing he would be meeting them again in a few days, she felt excitement and anticipation growing.

Was she insane? Jake was going back to Vancouver meanwhile. He would return to her directly from Monica. God, poor Monica! Jake was marrying her, yet only moments ago his eyes had been hot with desire as they roved over Jenny.

If she were to answer his desire with her own, meet his eyes honestly and boldly—

No!
She wasn’t going to be Jake’s next girl, a temporary mistress, left lonely and desperate when the affair was over.

But what if she did? Would he still marry Monica? Or wouldn’t it matter that he had been unfaithful to his promised bride?

Her eyes shifted back to him. He’d been watching her, trying to see her thoughts. She recovered quickly, asking, “What about George? Are you taking us both sight seeing?”

George said, “I’m busy, giving guitar lessons to Gerry. He sings, and he’d like to play. You could join us if you like, Jenny.” There was mischief behind her smile.

“Not me!” The two cousins laughed together and Jenny’s voice was bright and superficial as she explained to Jake, “I’m the girl they threw out of the church choir.”

He smiled and the tension was gone. She felt the warmth flowing through her body, her lips curving in response to his as he said, “I thought you had a blameless past. What did you do to get tossed out of the choir?”

“I sang,” she admitted, grinning.

George said, “They didn’t really throw her out.”

Jenny agreed, “No, but I got the message when the bishop came to town and the choirmaster asked me just to move my lips, not make any noise. I know my limits. I’ll stick to singing in the shower when no one else is around. If it’s a choice between a jam session and a sightseeing tour, I’d better take the tour.”

The deck shifted under their feet as they left. Jake asked, “What happened after the bishop?“

“I know when I’m not wanted. I just went away and didn’t come back.”

He said softly, “That’s a bad habit of yours, running away instead of fighting back.”

A speedboat roared past, setting the larger boats swaying on its wake. Jenny stepped off
Lady Harriet
. Jake stepped down behind her. There was no one else in sight, only the boats tied to either side of the float.

Fighting back was dangerous. She knew better than to stand up and ask to be rejected.

“It’s safer,” she said finally, not looking at him.

His hand came down on her shoulder, turning her towards him. The water was still, his eyes deep and waiting. “Is safety important to you?”

If she touched him, he would take her in his arms. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering when she had first started working for Jake.

He had seemed deeply involved with a dark-haired woman named Elissa. Jenny had seen them dancing once, Jake’s arms around her, his eyes warm with desire as they looked down. Then, suddenly, Jake wasn’t seeing her any more. She was gone, with no sign of regret on Jake’s side.

When he’d asked Jenny to dinner, his eyes had held the same look he’d had for the other woman. Her lips had parted, almost saying yes before she got her refusal out. Jenny wasn’t about to become the next one.

Keep it cool. Don’t get involved deeper than you can handle if it ends. She’d learned the rules, and Jake was too dangerous to play with. Yet working with him, beside him every day, she had learned the joys of sharing his creations, of becoming indispensable to him.

Now, five years later, he was waiting for an answer. “Safety? Yes, that’s what’s important.” As she walked beside him, not touching, she could still feel the imprint of his hand on her shoulder.

He probed, “But you’ve left your job, gone off onto the ocean on a small boat – where’s safety there?”

“There are different kinds of safety,” she said ambiguously. Safety was in getting away from Jake, keeping herself independent, not needing anyone else.

Softly, he asked, “What is it you’re running from this time?”

“I’m not running!”

“Aren’t you?” He stopped, holding a hand out and catching her fingers in his. “I don’t know why, but I do think you’re running. If it’s dissatisfaction with your job, with me—” He gripped her hand tightly in a brief spasm. “—if that’s it, you could have asserted yourself, told me – wouldn’t that have been easier than running?”

“It’s easy enough for you to say that, but you’re a dynamo, Jake. You do things the way you want. Fighting you takes more energy than I’ve got.”

He shook his head, keeping hold of her hand when she tugged to get it free. “I don’t believe that. You always avoid arguments.” He laughed, said, “At least, you did until a few days ago. Why is that, Jenny? Because you can’t argue without getting involved?”

He was too close, too curious. She jerked free, gripped the rail and kept her eyes down as she went up the steep ramp to the parking lot. “Where are you taking me?”

And why was she going with him?

“Tow Hill – nice scenery, a beach, campsite in the wilderness – a picnic lunch too. Glenda packed a basket for us. It’s in the truck – David loaned me his truck.”

They stood at the top of the ramp. She looked at him, tall and lean and aggressive. He was always restless, always moving, and she said, “You mean you’re just going to laze about on a beach?”

He grinned down at her. “That’s right.”

“A whole morning with no rushing around, no camera, no traumatic events – that can’t be the Jake I know.”

“But you don’t know it all, do you?”

No, she didn’t. Seated behind the wheel of an old, workmanlike truck, Jake didn’t look like a man who owned a fast sports car.

Just seeing him again sent her pulse racing. Letting him show her his beloved islands wasn’t going to make Jenny’s bid for freedom any easier. If she didn’t watch herself, he could talk her right back into his studio, right back where she’d been two weeks ago.

Remember Monica, she taunted herself as she pretended to watch the trees and the ocean.

When the silence became uncomfortable, she asked, “Are you going to take me driving on the beach? You never did tell me if you were one of those teenagers who got cars stuck out on the sand when the tide came in. I saw the beach as we came in – it looks like it goes on forever.”

“It does. As for my past, around here you could hear a few tales of my wilder days. Mostly I was kept busy in my summers. I only came to the Charlottes for the summers, you know. To visit my mother’s people.”

“I’ve been reading about the Haida.”

“Of course you have,” he said with a smile.

“You’re laughing at me!”

He threw her a warm glance. “Only a little. You always do your research. You probably know more facts about the Haida people than I do.”

“Is it true that all Haida are either ravens or eagles?” He nodded and she asked, “Which was your mother?”

“A raven.”

“That makes you a raven, too, doesn’t it? Yes, of course. That’s why your sweater has the raven design on it. And that silver chain you wear – that’s a raven design, too?”

“Yes,” he agreed, but she thought he looked more like an eagle, or even a hawk.

“And your aunt – the girl at the hotel called her a Haida princess. Your mother must have been a princess, too. That makes you royalty, doesn’t it?”

Jake laughed, his head tossing the unruly locks of black hair back. “Violet’s not a princess – that’s white man’s myth. She and my mother were daughters to a chief, but Haida don’t have princesses. Here, we’ll park under these trees and walk. What are you wearing for shoes? Good. They’ll do for the rocks, and you can take them off on the beach.”

There was another vehicle parked under the trees, although Jenny saw no sign of its owners.

“Probably hiking up Tow Hill,” suggested Jake, gesturing to the large hill that rose from the shore. He watched her taking in their surroundings, her short curls blowing around her head in the wind.

“I think I like your hair like that,” he said, surprising himself. “It makes you look— here, watch out for that hole! There are beavers here, I think. See that tree? It’s been felled by a beaver not long ago.”

She looked up at him as he caught her arm, waiting for him to finish his statement about her hair. Instead, he said, “We’ll go this way first, out on the rocks. Then we’ll come back and find a spot on the beach for our picnic.”

The ocean stretched to the mountains of Alaska. Off to their right, a sandy beach extended as far as they could see.

She followed him along a path, over rocks, finally coming to rest on granite that the ocean had worn into a gentle curve.

They sat, quietly watching as the green, turbulent water crashed up against the rocks below. When she looked, she found Jake’s eyes on her, a lazy smile in their depths.

“Are you plotting something?” she asked warily, then waved his answer away. “No, don’t tell me. I’m enjoying this too much. Don’t spoil it.”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“Perfect,” she agreed. “How long is it since you’ve been here?”

He looked out over the wild shoreline, memories in his eyes as he reminded her, “Last year I came for my grandfather’s funeral.”

“But how long since you’ve really taken the time to come back and look at it all? I’ve never seen you so relaxed as you are right now.”

He shrugged, smiling wryly. “The sickness of cities, Jenny. I always seem to be in a hurry – but you can’t appreciate the islands properly when you’re hurrying. It’s years since I really took time to visit these islands properly. This is another world, a different timezone— there, look behind you! The blowhole is about to go!”

Jenny turned quickly, startled by the roar as a huge geyser of water shot up from the rocks in a noisy, spectacular display of nature… then subsided as if it had never been. “It’s a hole in the rocks,” Jake explained. “When the tide is just right, and the waves the right size, water surges into the hole from below and shoots up like that. I was hoping we’d get a chance to see it today.”

“This is the real Jake,” she decided out loud, watching his pleasure, feeling his oneness with these wild surroundings. “You’re a reflection of all this, aren’t you?”