Kisses in the Rain (30 page)

There was a long silence. During that silence, Nick added two and two and got the answer. He turned away in disgust, unable to speak to his friend.

"Nick, don't tell anyone. Don't tell Jillian," Hank begged, running after him, the sound of his boots a hollow echo on the deck.

Nick could scarcely contain his contempt. "I can't believe you'd do this to her," he gritted through clenched teeth.

Hank looked miserable. "If you knew the anguish I've been through over this, you wouldn't judge me. Jillian and I haven't been getting along for a long time, but I won't leave her. She'd have a hard time taking care of herself and the three kids."

"You're all heart, aren't you, Hank?"

"I love Dolores. And she loves me. Maybe I can set things right eventually, but for now this is the way it has to be."

Nick refused to discuss it any further at that point, but later Hank told him the whole story.

Hank had started seeing Dolores frequently in Petersburg, and the beautiful young Tlingit woman with long flowing hair and skin the color of antique ivory had quickly become an obsession. Hank worried that someone from Petersburg would tell Jillian about Dolores, so Dolores moved into an isolated cabin on Kuiu Island, where she lived with her grandmother, Elsa. Dolores was a talented craftsman who carved walrus ivory for the tourist trade, and living in the wilderness was quiet and conducive to her work. It was an arrangement that everyone found satisfactory, at least for the time being.

Then Dolores told Hank that she was going to bear his child.

"I want to marry Dolores," Hank confided unhappily to Nick, but Nick refused to listen to such talk. He was concerned about Jillian's state of mind. He suspected that she had turned to alcohol for comfort. By that time, Hank was deeply in love with Dolores, who gave birth to his long-awaited son. If Hank had any affection left for Jillian, Nick didn't see it, even though Jillian, unaware of Hank's relationship with Dolores, claimed that she still loved him. Nick couldn't imagine how Hank was going to get himself out of the mess he'd made of his life.

Hank never had to face that question. One night, when he was out on the
Puffin,
Hank noticed that the red light on the mast was out. He climbed the twenty-foot mast to insert a new bulb. All of a sudden the wind picked up and the boat began to roll violently. The mast snapped, and Hank was thrown into the cold sea.

Dolores, her son in her arms, rushed out on deck to see Hank struggling to stay afloat in the water. She screamed and ran to the stern, watching Hank trying to swim. In the icy water without a life jacket, Hank's strength faded fast. The boat was still pitching and rolling, and great spurts of spray drenched Dolores and her infant son. She threw Hank a line, but she lost her footing on the wet deck and she and the baby were flung into the roiling sea.

Dolores and the child were tossed onto some nearby rocks, where she huddled, barely alive and trying to keep her screaming baby warm. She was unconscious by the time another vessel fishing spotted the
Puffin
as it broke up on the rocks and, looking for survivors, found the mother and child.

"Dolores regained consciousness long enough to tell them what happened," Nick said. "She died of exposure the next day. But the baby lived. Davey was their child, Martha, Hank and Dolores's child."

"Then the picture in your photo album—that was Dolores, wasn't it?" Martha asked in a tentative voice.

"Yes. It was a picture Hank had taken of her. I found it at the cabin where Dolores and Davey lived. I saved the picture of Dolores for Davey so he'll know what his mother looked like. The nude study on the wall over there is of Dolores, too. I discovered it with some of Hank's things, and I didn't have the heart to throw it away. It's one of Hank's best photographs. She was very beautiful, wasn't she?"

Martha swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes," she said softly, remembering what she had thought. She was glad to know that Dolores had been nothing to Nick. Just knowing that cleared up a lot of problems.

"What happened to Hank?" Martha asked.

"They never found Hank's body," Nick said with a haunted look in his eyes.

"Oh, Nick," Martha said. "How terrible."

"The worst part is that I'd noticed a problem with the red light on the mast a couple days before, but I forgot about it. If I'd replaced the light myself, Hank wouldn't have been climbing that mast when the storm hit."

"You can't go on blaming yourself," Martha said gently.

"Oh, I don't know," Nick said, glancing down at the floor and shaking his head. "I'm pretty good at it."

"Is that why you've been so devoted to Davey?"

He raised his eyes to hers. "After the accident, when the first shock passed, I realized that I had to take care of Davey for Hank's sake. So a couple of months later I went to the cabin where Dolores lived with her grandmother, Elsa Long. There I found a toothless old woman who was overcome with grief and who could barely care for herself, much less her one-year-old grandson."

"And that's when you took Davey?"

Nick nodded. "I'd first met the Longs after the Coast Guard notified me about the
Puffin's
accident. I was the owner of record, along with Hank, and so I was the person they called first. I met Billy Long, Dolores's brother, at her funeral. After I discovered the conditions under which Davey and Elsa were living after Dolores's death, I persuaded Billy to come and take Elsa home with him.

"I knew he was financially strapped, so I sent him the money for his grandmother's support. I've visited Elsa frequently in the past few years because she's been in and out of the hospital many times. That's where I was those two times when I told you it was none of your business. This last time, I went to bury Elsa. She's gone, Martha. There won't be any more sudden departures."

"Do you know what I thought? Can you imagine the ideas that ran through my head? I heard rumors, Nick, all sorts of rumors. Half the town of Ketchikan thinks that Davey is your illegitimate son."

Nick's lips hardened in a grim line. "I'm sorry, Martha," he said. "I really am sorry. But my vow of secrecy came first, even before protecting my own reputation."

"I was so upset both times when you went away," Martha murmured.

Nick caressed her face with his hand. His eyes, varnished with gold in the fading afternoon light, were earnest. "That was the worst thing," he said. "Not being able to tell you where I was going or what I was doing. I was mostly concerned with keeping the secret so no one would know. I should have trusted you."

"Now I know what might have affected Davey," Martha said. "He must have been traumatized, even as a baby, by what happened to him when the
Puffin
was wrecked."

"That's what I think, too. And Dr. Whitmer shares my opinion. I never could tell you before what I thought was wrong with Davey, but when you told me about the child your mother taught, that's when things began to slip into place. That's when I began to see how I could help Davey."

Martha's head reeled with the details of Nick's revelations. There was still something he hadn't explained. "What happened to Jillian?" Martha asked.

"As far as I know, Jillian never found out about Dolores or Davey. I managed to hush up the fact that Hank had been with Dolores on the
Puffin.
I was afraid of what it would do to Jillian to find out that Hank had another family."

"Perhaps Jillian would have wanted Hank's son," Martha said.

"No. She was a young widow who was struggling to manage three small children. She was barely coping. How could I lay another burden on her? That's why I kept Davey, and that's why I never told anyone whose child he was or where he came from."

"And what happened to Jillian?"

"Her parents flew here and took her back home shortly after the accident. She traveled back to Ketchikan a few times to settle Hank's estate, though. Every time she came back, she seemed to be getting along better and better. Last year she remarried and moved to Alabama. I hope she's happy."

"If Jillian can no longer be hurt by it, then perhaps it's time to tell people what really happened."

Nick shook his head. "I don't want to tarnish Hank's memory, Martha. A lot of people in Ketchikan remember him fondly. You're the only person I've ever told. You're the only person I ever will tell."

A lot of things made sense now. Nick's constant worry about weather conditions when they were on the
Tabor
was the result of his firsthand knowledge about tragedy that could strike as the result of an unexpected storm at sea. His sudden silences and aloofness had only been his way of turning off further questions about a topic that he didn't feel free to pursue. His loyalty to his friend Hank must have been very hard on him all these years in terms of his relationship with his family, his friends and the few women he'd dated.

There was something noble in such loyalty, Martha thought. And something caring and compassionate, too. She admired Nick for providing for a destitute old woman who was no relation to him and for taking on the care of a child who was no child of his.

"I'll never speak to anyone of this, Nick," she said slowly. Her silence was what Nick wanted, and it was probably best for all concerned.

"There's one more thing. I've set the wheels in motion to adopt Davey. Then he will legally be my son."

Martha smiled. "Oh, Nick. That's wonderful. Truly, truly wonderful."

Nick clasped her hands in his. "And there's something else," he said softly.

"What else could there be?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," he began.

"Go on."

"Davey and I are a family. We're a package deal."

"Yes."

"Alaska is a nice place to visit, but not many people would want to live here," he continued.

"Not everyone," she agreed.

"And Williwaw Lodge is very isolated."

"Which has its advantages," she murmured.

"Also, I've never done this before, and I don't know if I'm going to be any good at it."

"You're good at most things, Nick Novak, including kissing. Please kiss me now," she said, and he thought that the combination of laughing bright eyes and upcurved lips must be the most beautiful sight in the world.

He kissed her, and afterward she sighed and nestled her head on his chest.

"Now go on with what you were saying. Please."

"What I was saying in my roundabout way was, will you marry me, Martha Rose?" He waited.

"Since you like chocolate-chip cookies and you
are
still my business partner..." she began.

"Yes?"

"And since you're tall enough so that if I ever want to wear spike heels again I could, though I doubt that I will want to," she went on, laughter bubbling up from her throat.

"Mmm-hmm?" He nuzzled her ear for good measure.

"And since I think I could probably get used to eating moose liver for breakfast..."

"No waffles, though. I could stand eating a bagel in the morning, but I hate waffles."

"And because you're kind, compassionate, and awfully good with kids and also because you'll make a great father to the many children I intend to have," she said, dragging it out.

"Mmm," he agreed. Her luminous gray eyes were shining with love.

"And because you are such a good kisser, among other things..."

"Other things," he said, thinking about the other things.

"And since I've developed a taste for kisses in the rain and because I'm madly in love with you and want to live here with you forever and ever, till the glaciers melt and Southeast Alaska dries up into a desert..."

"Yes?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you, Nick Novak!" she said. Then she murmured, "I thought you'd never ask."

And he replied in relief, "Dear Cheechako, I thought you'd never answer." And he kissed her once again.

Epilogue

Williwaw Lodge, Labor Day Weekend

Lindsay stepped back to take in the stunning effect of the delicate baby's-breath blossoms she had pinned among Martha's curls.

"You need one more sprig on the left side," she decided, working the spray of tiny flowers into the curls above Martha's ear. "There. How's that?"