Island Hearts (Jenny's Turn and Stray Lady) (36 page)

She broke contact, looked away. He wanted too much from her. “There’s nothing to keep me here,” she said with a hint of desperation. “Wednesday, you said? Wednesday, I’ll hitch a ride on the helicopter. Can— could you please arrange it?”

“I can arrange it,” he said flatly. “Your eggs are ready.”

The kitchen door snapped shut with a bang. Lyle and George both swung towards the door to see Robyn standing with the jam in her hands. She was staring at George with a stricken look on her face.

“You’re not going?” she whispered. “George? Are you leaving us?”

Lyle and his daughter. They were both determined to make it hard for her to go.

“I can’t stay forever, Robyn. I have to go sometime.”

Lyle said, “George has people waiting for her. Her own people. They need her back.”

It wasn’t true. Lyle’s eyes challenged her to deny it, but thankfully Robyn had no way of knowing. She was staring at George, shaking her head in protest as Lyle reached her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “George isn’t ours, honey,” he said softly. “We can’t keep her.” His voice became casual, lighter. “Is that the strawberry jam? How about getting some marmalade as well? I’m pretty sure there’s a jar left in the pantry.”

When Robyn was gone, he said, “She hasn’t formed a relationship with any woman since her mother left and— well, she’s going to have trouble accepting that you’re going away.”

“This isn’t a relationship,” she said desperately, talking about more than Robyn. “I’m sorry, but I— it’s only been a few days. It can’t really mean anything.”

“Time has nothing to do with it. She started loving you before you ever opened your eyes. The sea brought you to us – cold and battered and—”

She turned away impatiently. She was done with remembering. She scoffed, “A stray? Is that how you both think of me? You and your daughter, you’re two of a kind! You think everyone who has a hurt is yours to take in and—”

“And love?”

“No!” She hadn’t meant to shout. She got her voice under control, said, “I have to go some time.”

She welcomed the sound of Russ running back up the outside stairs. “Scissors!” he announced, bursting through the kitchen doorway. “I’ve found them!”

“I’ll do your hair after breakfast,” she offered.

“It’ll have to wait,” said Lyle. Robyn came back with another jar. He held a chair for her to sit down. “Russ and I have a generator to service this morning.”

“Then I’ll explore.” Outside in the wind and spray she’d quickly get herself back to normal. “Could you take me around the island, Robyn?”

Robyn wasn’t answering, wasn’t meeting George’s eyes. She sat silently at the table, pushing her food around.

“I switched over the generator,” said Russ to his brother.

George leapt at a subject that had no emotional content. “What’s wrong with the generator?”

Russ began to outline the problem in technical terms that she couldn’t begin to understand. At first she listened, but the words got longer. It began to seem as if Russ was determined to share all his knowledge with her. She met Lyle’s eyes and they both started to laugh. Russ stopped explaining in mid-jargon.

“What’s wrong?”

Lyle chuckled. “She didn’t want a course in diesels, Russ. What he’s trying to say, George, is that it isn’t running evenly.”

Robyn giggled and said, “It’s sick, Uncle Russ,” and only giggled louder when her uncle glared at her. “We need an engine doctor.”

Russ shrugged with good nature and growled, “Serves me right for taking a job under my big brother. Never get taken seriously. Say, George, where did you get that shirt?”

She looked down at it. “It was in the drawer in my— in the room I’m sleeping in. I thought it might be your wife’s. I’ve been wondering ever since I put it on just where Kitimat is.”

Lyle’s smile had turned into a frown. He picked up some egg with his fork. “It’s south of Prince Rupert, on one of the inland channels. There’s an aluminum smelter there, and a town of about ten thousand people.”

“Is it all right if I wear the shirt?” She squirmed uncomfortably under Lyle’s gaze. “It was in the drawer with my jeans and—”

Robyn said, “I put it there, Daddy. Remember the things Cynthia left behind? I thought George could use ‘em, ‘cause Cynthia never came back.”

Who was Cynthia?

Lyle shrugged and picked up the plate of bacon. “You having some of this bacon, Russ?”

Suddenly she knew. Cynthia must have been Lyle’s lover.

“Cynthia?” repeated Russ slowly. He ignored, or didn’t see, the quelling glance his brother gave him. “Have you heard from Cynthia lately? You haven’t mentioned her in—” He broke off and explained to George, “Cynthia lived here with Lyle for— how long, Lyle? She was here when I arrived a year ago, but she left shortly—”

“Shut up, Russ!”

His hand stopped in midair, a piece of bacon hanging from his fork precariously. “Oh,” Russ said on a note of discovery, looking from Lyle to George. “Sorry, Lyle. I—”

Robyn leaned towards George and whispered loudly, “Cynthia wasn’t very nice. I didn’t like her much.”

Lyle threw down his fork. “I don’t believe this!” he muttered to no one in particular. He glared at George, then said tightly, “For your information, Cynthia McLeod—”

“I didn’t ask, and it’s really none of my business.” Of course she didn’t care about his affairs. She couldn’t seem to avoid looking at him, and she hoped she didn’t look as if she cared who he slept with. “I— Robyn, are you finished eating? Why don’t we go out now and you can show me the island?”

She stood abruptly, leaving the half-eaten breakfast. “You two go ahead and do your mechanical magic with the generator. Robyn and I will clean up these dishes after we have our walk.”

Scruff followed George and Robyn when they went to get ready, leaving the kitchen silent with only the two men at the table.

“Lyle?” said Russ tentatively after a moment.

Lyle stared at his food. He loved his family but, by God, they sure could put their foot in it! Courting George was going to be tricky enough, without Russ throwing spanners in his path. And Cynthia, for God’s sake!

“Sorry, man. I had no idea that you—”

“Russ, would you please shut up?”

She wanted to leave. Well, why not? Once she was gone, he could forget her, get his life back to normal.

George was standing in the bedroom she had come to think of as hers, stripping off the Kitimat sweat shirt while Robyn stood by the door watching her.

“I don’t think Daddy liked her very much,” volunteered Robyn.

“That’s his affair,” said George, pulling out another shirt from the next drawer. “Whose is this?”

“Uncle Russ brought it over. It’s Aunt Dorothy’s.”

She pulled the blue shirt over her head and turned to Robyn. Affairs. Well, of course he’d had affairs. His wife was gone, apparently years ago. He was a very attractive man, and it was only natural that there were women. It certainly didn’t matter to George Dobson how many women he had, how many affairs.

Cynthia had lived here. Had she used this room? No, of course not. She would have shared the room across the hallway. She and Lyle—

“He likes you a lot more than Cynthia,” Robyn said. “And so do I.”

George pulled on a sweater over the blue shirt. It was big. Lyle’s? She didn’t care who he liked. His wife had come and gone. This Cynthia had come and gone. Right now he wanted George, but by next year he’d be thinking about someone else. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t in the market for a man, for heaven’s sake!

She followed Robyn down to the helicopter pad. Despite her limp, Robyn seemed agile enough when she walked over the rocks beyond the helicopter pad.

“The seagulls fill this part in the summer,” she told George. “And in the winter the storms come and when you look down here it’s all white spray. Noisy and— oh, George! You should see it in the winter.”

“Tell me,” George invited.

The tide was out, making the island much larger. They walked back by the beach, both limping slightly on the gravel, but climbing over the logs that appeared in their path without hesitation.

Winter on Green Island.

“Noisy,” said Robyn. “The wind comes and it’s noisy for weeks. Drafts bang in the chimneys. Daddy puts up ropes ‘tween the buildings and we can’t go out without hanging onto ‘em. The wind’s fierce! Daddy takes me out sometimes, just in the shelter of the buildings, lets me watch the waves just explode over the island! White and fog and noise all over!”

What kind of music did Lyle write when the winter storms raged? Wasn’t he lonely on those long winter nights?

Robyn straddled a log, facing George, rubbing her leg absently. “George, are you gonna be in Vancouver in May?”

George found herself moving, drawing the girl closer with an arm around her shoulders. She looked so vulnerable. “I’m not sure where I’ll be in May,” she admitted, feeling strangely depressed by the thought. “Why? Are you going to be in Vancouver then?”

Robyn’s long hair obscured her face as she nodded. “They’re doin’ my leg again. In the General Hospital.”

“Would you like me to visit you?” Would Lyle stay at the Holiday Inn again? May in Vancouver. Seeing Lyle and Robyn again.

“It’s the last time they’ll cut my leg open,” said Robyn.

“I’ll be there,” George promised, and Robyn smiled.

Well, why not? By May she would surely be over this temporary insanity.

What would it feel like if Robyn were hers – hers and Lyle’s?

He had intended to avoid George for the rest of the day but, once he finished working on the generator, Lyle found himself washing up, then going outside to search for Robyn and George.

He found them on the beach, sitting together on a big log. They were close together, Robyn’s long hair blowing across George’s chest with an intimacy he wished he could share. George’s short hair was tossed wildly around her face, a turbulent riot of silvery blond. She was looking down at Robyn with a tenderness that caught his throat.

“Daddy!” Robyn had seen him, her quiet face lighting up as she scrambled off the log and flung herself into his arms, giving him a hearty kiss.

“Nice,” he said, laughing, giving her a hug before she slipped out of his arms. George hadn’t moved from her perch on the log, but she was watching. He recognized the wistful look in her eyes as one he had seen in Robyn’s when she was feeling lonely and in need of loving. It was a look he couldn’t resist. “What about you?” he asked softly.

“Me?” Her hands rubbed along her thighs. He wished she weren’t so nervous of him.

She’d changed out of the Kitimat shirt. He found himself taking a sharp pleasure in the knowledge that she’d worn one of his sweaters. He was becoming obsessed by this woman, to the extent that he’d probably find himself taking that sweater to bed with him when she was gone, just to pretend she was near.

“Don’t I get a kiss from you, too?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Robyn agreed eagerly. “Give Daddy a kiss. He needs lots of kisses.”

George’s tongue circled her lips nervously. She wanted to run, but instead she asked, “Why? Why should I?”

He answered simply, “Because I want you to,” and watched her eyes widen. His heart thundered as he saw her lips part as if anticipating his kiss.

He held out a hand for her as she started to slip down from the log. She drew back. “Do you always get what you want?”

“Not always.” He thought he would drown in her eyes. Then her hand was in his and he pulled her towards him. “I’m hoping I will this time. Are you going to kiss me, honey?”

She shook her head, slipping down to the gravel of the beach, coming to rest trapped between the log and Lyle. He could smell the enticing scent of her, see the quick rise and fall of her breasts. Her nipples hardened as he watched, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of them thrusting. He wanted badly to pull her into his arms.

“Afraid?” he asked gently. Then, on an inspiration, he challenged softly, “I dare you.”

Her eyes sparkled with his challenge, then suddenly she was close, not quite touching her body to his as she stood on tiptoe. Her lips brushed his in a brief caress, drawing away quickly as he started to respond. His hands found her hips as she drew away.