Gail Martin - In His Eyes

Connor drew Caitlin closer to his side. “We like adventures, don’t we? We’ve had times we just climbed into the car and drove off. No destination. Just looking for adventure. Then we’d end up—”

“At the cider mill,” Caitlin said, “and one time the fair. I like surprises.”

Ellene’s eyelids lowered as if she realized what she’d almost done. “Surprises are fun,” she said, as if finally understanding Connor’s concern. “But I really need to get home. That’s not the surprise I was hoping for. Isn’t there something they do to keep the ice from freezing at the ferry landing?”

Connor realized she was trying to sound upbeat, but he saw the look in her eyes. “Of course, they try, but nature is nature.”

“They must do something?”

Aunt Phyllis chuckled. “The coast guard brings in the Bramble to see what she can do.”

“Coast guard?” Ellene gave a fleeting look toward Connor, then turned her attention to Aunt Phyllis. “What’s the Bramble?”

“The coast guard cutter,” Connor said.

She looked befuddled. “Are you kidding?”

“No. The Bramble breaks up the ice, but once the thaw begins they have a big job keeping the ice from packing against the shoreline. The ice jam not only halts the ferry service, but it stops the freighters’ access through the channel into the lake.”

“They can’t expect people to be stranded here forever.”

Aunt Phyllis moved closer and patted Ellene’s shoulder. “Not forever, dear. Only heaven is forever. It lasts a few hours or a few days.” She gave Ellene’s shoulder another pat. “Sometimes two or three weeks at the most.”

Ellene’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No, she’s not,” Connor said. “If it lasts too long, the coast guard flies in emergency helicopters to give those in need access to the mainland for food or illness. We couldn’t live on the island without the coast guard.”

Ellene lifted her computer case from the table. “I need to get home, so I’ll have to take my chances, I guess. I’ll drive down there and wait.”

Aunt Phyllis shook her head. “It could be a long wait. Why not wait here? Connor can call the ferry and check.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather see for myself.”

Pulling her cheek away from a chair back where she’d been listening, Caitlin rose and moved closer. “We could play games.”

Ellene faced her with a sympathetic grin. “I’d love to play games, but not tonight.”

Caitlin’s expectant look fell. She plopped into a chair and lowered her head as if she’d been personally rejected.

Connor opened his mouth to say more, but he gave up. Ellene had always been one of the most obstinate women he’d ever met. Today was proof. “If it’s hopeless, come back, will you?”

She slipped her arms into her jacket, flipped her dark hair over the collar and buttoned it. “I have confidence in the coast guard.”

His shoulders sagged with her ridiculous comment. Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn. “Fine. Let me know when you have some plans ready, okay?”

“Sure,” she said, grasping her laptop handle. “So nice to see you, Aunt Phyllis,” she said, giving the woman a hug. “And Caitlin, I really enjoyed meeting you.”

Caitlin lifted her gaze and shrugged her shoulder.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said, turning the doorknob and stepping outside.

The cold wind whipped through the open door, then vanished as she closed it.

Connor stared at the door a moment, waiting for it to reopen and Ellene to come back, but she didn’t. When he turned around, his aunt Phyllis was shaking her head.

“Bullheaded, isn’t she?

Connor couldn’t help but smile. “She has her moments, but she’s a wonderful woman on good days.”

“Why wouldn’t she stay, Daddy?” Caitlin whined from her slouched pose on the chair, her arms folded across her chest.

“She has her reasons, Caitlin.” He started to say he didn’t know, but he did. Ellene couldn’t let go of the past. He hadn’t, either, not for many years.

“What reasons?”

“Caitlin, we don’t always get our way. Sometimes people have their own plans.” He glanced at his aunt and arched a brow. “And Ellene definitely has her own.”

“For better or worse,” Aunt Phyllis said.

For better or worse? Connor studied his aunt’s expression, observing a sly grin that he recognized from her days of trying to play matchmaker for him.

“Don’t push it, Aunt Phyllis,” he said, grinning back. “I can always uninvite you to dinner.”

Her grin faded. Then she recouped and laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

Connor arched a brow and didn’t answer.

Her jaw set in determination, Ellene pulled away from Connor’s house and headed toward the ferry. The setting sun had caused the temperature to drop and the roads that had once crunched beneath her tires had frozen into slippery ruts.

She gripped the wheel, thinking of the pleasant warmth of Connor’s fireplace and the warmth of his smile. Shadows lengthened along the channel road, and at the turn, her car skidded toward a ditch until she wrestled her way back to the road, thankful for the blessing.

Her earlier line to appease Caitlin jumped into her thoughts. I’d love to live on an island. She shook her head. There wasn’t a grain of truth in that statement, but if she’d been wise, tonight she could have stayed. Her stomach gnawed, recalling the aroma of the goulash. The place needed work, but it could be a cozy home for Caitlin, except for the when-things-happen issue.

How could people live in a location that cut them off from the rest of the world? The questions tossed in her thoughts as she recalled the sunny summer days by the lake, the fresh breeze from the water, the easygoing lifestyle so different from the tensions of her daily life.

She could picture the moon hanging over the water. More than in well-populated areas, stars filled the sky on the island, winking and blinking with their phantasmal splendor. It spelled romance.

Romance. She brushed away the thought.

The ferry dock rose into view as her spirits sank. No cars waiting, only a large sign. Ferry Closed Until Further Notice. She saw a man inside the small building, and she pulled into the ferry driveway. When she stepped from the car, the breeze had whipped into a bitter wind. It was March. Only in Michigan would this weather make sense.

“Ferry’s closed,” the man called from the building door.

“For how long?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Not tonight, I can guarantee. Tomorrow doesn’t look good, especially if this storm comes in that’s heading this way.” He gave a toss of his head. “It could be longer.”

Ellene looked into the sky and saw the burdened slate-colored clouds. Winter storm. Just what she needed. Her shoulders sagged with the weight of the news. “Any hotels around here?”

He chuckled. “Not on the island?”

“Rooms for rent? Bed and breakfasts?”

He shook his head. “You can rent cabins in the summer. Not now.”

Her frustration flared as she climbed back into the car. She smacked the heel of her hand against the steering wheel, then backed out of the driveway and stopped along the edge of the road. She didn’t want to go back and face Connor’s I-told-you-so look. Connor. Even his name caused her pulse to skip. She’d tried forever to push the memories from her mind, but failed. Every man she had dated she’d compared to Connor.

Now after all these years, he had a daughter, a six-year-old who— She paused, counting on her fingers. They’d dated until nearly eight years ago. Connor truly hadn’t wasted time. He’d dated Ellene forever, it seemed, so how could he fall in love with someone else that fast? She’d heard he’d met someone after only a few months. Gossip was never completely trustworthy, but could he really have loved another woman while Ellene’s emotions burned for months…a year or more?