HENRIK HAD MANAGED to skirt her for the rest of the time they were at the beach. He’d had to trade off and head out into the water to do retrieval of the victims. It was always the hardest part of the job for him, being in the water.
His parents had been lost at sea.
Their bodies were never recovered. It was difficult not to think about how the water was so dangerous. How fast it could turn and steal a life. There was always a moment of sheer terror when he headed out into the water, but also clarity. Henrik always went into the water thinking he’d do the best job he could. He was beating the sea by working hard to save lives. His own form of revenge. His own way of honoring the memory of his parents.
So that’s what he did.
Focusing on that helped him briefly forget about Josephine’s presence on shore.
At the end of the day, from a crew of twenty men, there were only twelve survivors and by some kind of miracle they had managed to retrieve all the bodies.
Now the coast guard had to deal with the ramifications of the accident and lay criminal charges on those involved, but that was not part of his job. He was off duty, and all he had to do was head back to his place and put this whole thing out of his mind.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
Henrik threw his gear in the back of his truck, but as he surveyed the area one last time before he left, he saw Josephine standing there, searching for someone. He should just let her be, only he couldn’t. She looked a little lost, like that first day he’d met her, just a bit more tired and wrung-out.
“Looking for someone?” he asked. One part of him hoping that it was him and the other, louder part hoping it wasn’t.
They’d had a one-night stand. He couldn’t give her more.
He wouldn’t.
“Lloyd brought me here, but he’s disappeared.”
“Ah, yes... Lloyd is a great volunteer, but sometimes he’s the first out of a situation. That and the pub is about to open for the night. I’m sorry he forgot about you.”
“He was my ride back to Nubbin’s Harbor.” She frowned.
“Well, I’m heading back there. I can take you home. Though, I don’t know where you’re living now.”
“I need to go to the clinic. I have some stuff to clean up. And I live above it.”
“In Gary’s... I mean, Dr. Linwood’s place?” Henrik asked.
“Yes. I’m here for the next year, covering for him while he teaches in Munich.”
So she wasn’t a tourist passing through. That much he had gathered, but there was still an expiry date to her time on Fogo.
Just as he’d thought.
“I had no idea Dr. Linwood had even left.”
“Did you know Gary well?”
Henrik frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can’t say that I did, to be honest. I mean, we worked together on occasion, but he wasn’t one for socializing much with the bayfolk or townies.”
“You mean the locals?” she asked.
“You’re starting to pick up the slang?” he asked, secretly pleased.
Josephine hefted her gear. “How could I not, living here for a month and being the talk of the harbor by kissing a cod on my very first night? That and Jennifer Wells, my receptionist, has been helpful.”
Henrik took her bags from her. “Aye, well that would make an impression. I’ll try to slow down some for you.”
“I would appreciate that, and thanks for offering me the ride. I probably could’ve walked. It’s not that far. Or I could’ve called Jenn. Just thought of that.”
“It’s twenty kilometers, and it’s getting dark,” he said. The thought of being alone with her again was tantalizing, but it was not the smartest thing.
How could he get Josephine out of his mind so they could have a professional relationship if he spent too much time alone with her?
Still, he couldn’t abandon her without a ride. He wouldn’t.
“It can’t be that dangerous. Or not as dangerous as walking up Yonge Street at night.” There was a nervous edge to her voice.
“Well, maybe not, but you’ve only been here a month, and you’re still a come from away. You’re not local. There’s also moose. You don’t want to deal with them.” He opened the door of the truck for her, and she climbed in.
He closed the door and then climbed into the driver’s side. His pulse was thundering between his ears. He just had to focus on the road and make idle chatter.
Just because they’d shared one mind-blowing night of ecstasy didn’t mean they couldn’t be professional acquaintances.
And back his mind wandered to that night and the taste of her on his tongue...
He needed to get ahold of himself.
“Moose aren’t predators,” she said, dryly as he started the engine.
“No, but they’re seriously big, and they know it. Have you ever seen a car accident involving a moose?”
“No, but I did hear of them. You don’t get many moose accidents in Toronto’s emergency departments.”
He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.”
She looked away, and silence fell.
He drove away from the scene of the accident and headed back on the highway. Back through Joe Batt’s Arm and toward Nubbin’s Harbor. Even though he had to go away from time to time for work, it was always good to be home.
Especially with summer on the horizon.
He liked the late sunsets. The vibrant colors of the houses poised on the rocks.
The blue of the sea.
Nubbin’s Harbor was a small community of houses, the pub, the hotel, the diner, the clinic and a handful of shops. The colors alternated between red and white. They were clustered together around a tiny natural harbor that used to have a fishing industry but now was empty.
The old lighthouse was out on the farthest spit of land, and attached to it was a faded yellow house.
His late gran’s. Now his.
It was home.
And he’d missed it. He was glad to be back at work. It kept the loneliness away.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Josephine thought of Fogo. Most visitors loved the charm, for a short time. Fogo was still fairly isolated. They hadn’t even gotten electricity until the midsixties. If they weren’t born there, they rarely stayed.
That was his belief.
Even Dr. Linwood left.
He glanced over at her and saw she was wringing her hands nervously. A flush on her face.
He loved the pink on her round cheeks.
“I have to say, I was surprised to see you,” he said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them. “I thought you were just passing through, as most do.”
“I never said that I was, but we didn’t talk much about that. Besides, I thought you were leaving the island for work reasons and not coming back.”
Another blush tinged her cheeks afresh, and his pulse quickened again. She was so gorgeous, just as beautiful as he remembered. He thought he had built it up in his mind how stunning she was.
He hadn’t.
There was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that drew him in, and he didn’t like it.
“This is my home. I’m about as local as you can get to Fogo. Generations of my family have lived and worked here.”
And he was all that was left here, only he didn’t tell her that. There was no need to.
He had to stay.
He couldn’t abandon his home. This is where he belonged. Even if it meant being alone for the rest of his life.
“You’re a paramedic, so you had a sabbatical? Is that why you were away for a month?” she asked curiously.
“I’m a first responder as well, and I volunteer with sea search and rescue, so I go on training missions with the coast guard. They bring in cadets from all over Canada, maybe even some who didn’t grow up by the sea, and put them through training. I assist with that from time to time. I have a lot of experience in dealing with sea ice and rescues in northern waters.”
Josephine’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
Henrik shrugged. “It’s my passion. Saving those who are lost at sea.”
“They can’t be gone, Gran,” he’d whispered. “Da knew the sea.”
“I know, my b’y. I know.” Her hand had been on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Come on, let’s go home.”
“No. I want to stay here. I promised to wait for them.”
“Then, I’ll stay with you. Right here.”
He knew firsthand the pain of losing family to the sea. The gut-wrenching pain, which felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest still beating, some days felt raw. Never knowing what had happened, never recovering their bodies.
They were just lost.
He’d been twelve and gone to live with his gran and grandad at the lighthouse, but he still hated the sea sometimes for swallowing up his whole world and shaping his life in such a painful way. It’s why he did what he did.
His own form of revenge against the sea, saving as many of those as he could, who might otherwise be lost.
“Well, that explains why you’ve been away, then,” she said softly, and when he glanced over at her, she was wringing her hands and worrying her bottom lip.
“Look, I’m not looking for a relationship...especially with someone I’m working with,” he said abruptly. “So if that’s what you’re worrying about...”
She looked confused. “That’s not even close to what I was thinking when I asked where you’ve been or why you’ve been away.”
“Usually, that’s why women ask. I’m not looking for anything long-term. Which I mentioned the night we met.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And I believe I said the same thing to you. I’m only here for a year, Henrik. And I’ve already had my great love. I’m not interested in anything else.”
The reference to her loss piqued his interest.
He’d had that great love too. Or so he’d thought. He’d certainly had enough heartache. He knew he had seen something in her eyes the night they’d met.
She’d experienced pain and loss like him.
“Yes. I feel the same,” he said, softly.
“Right.” There was sympathy in her gaze.
He wondered what had really brought her here and why she’d left Toronto to help out a friend.
“Then...”
“I was getting to know you and...” She trailed off nervously. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, Henrik, and honestly if you were a stranger passing through, it would be a moot point anyway. But since you’re from here and we’ll be seeing each other around... I mean Nubbin’s Harbor isn’t exactly a metropolis, is it?”
“You’re rambling.”
“I know.” Josephine folded her hands in her lap. It reminded him of every doctor that was about to deliver bad news to a patient. “I’m pregnant, Henrik. And the baby is yours.”
His heart stopped beating, and he had to pull over to the side of the road, because if he didn’t he was going to crash the truck. His hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles locking as he tried to process exactly what she was saying to him.
Pregnant?
He’d dreamed of having a family once. When he’d thought he and Melissa were going to get married. For that brief moment, he thought he’d get back that happy family he’d lost.
Then Melissa had left.
It reminded him that loving only brought pain. So he’d given up on the dream of ever becoming a father.
He still couldn’t believe what Josephine was telling him.
“We used protection,” he mumbled. He had one-night stands, but he wasn’t a fool.
“And that’s not always reliable. You know that.”
His tongue felt thick against the roof of his mouth, and it was hard to swallow. It was almost impossible to hear what she was actually saying.
Josephine was pregnant? With his child?
He didn’t know what he was going to do.
He didn’t know how to react. All he could do was stare out, utterly shocked, through the windshield over Nubbin’s Harbor as his gran’s words about his sleeping around replayed in his mind.
Yeah, he’d made a right arse of this whole situation.
When she was nervous she rambled. It was a quirk she hated about herself. The last person she had expected to see today was Henrik, but here he was.
And the whole time she’d worked triage on the beach, she was thinking about how she was going to tell him she was pregnant.
So when he’d offered her a ride home, it just came out. Jo was regretting telling him while they were driving, but he was insinuating that she was looking for a relationship with him, and that was the last thing she wanted. When she’d got together with him a month ago, she was just taking a leap into getting her life back.
The last thing she wanted was a relationship with anyone.
Honestly, she hadn’t really come to terms with it completely herself since the stick turned positive, right before the boat accident. And the last thing she’d ever have expected was to run into the one man she had had a fling with.
The father of her surprise.
She’d really thought she’d never see Henrik again. Even though she was terrified at the prospect of being a single mother, she wanted this baby more than anything. It was a dream come true. It was her body and her choice, but she wasn’t going to deny Henrik his child. Like it or not, if he chose to be involved with the baby, he was in her life for good.
“Look, trust me, I’m just as taken aback as you, and I really don’t expect anything from you. I can take care of this child by myself. A baby was not in my plans for my year here, but I can manage.”
Henrik didn’t say anything but nodded a couple of times, before he straightened in his seat. “I want to be a part of my child’s life.”
“Good!”
Henrik nodded again but still seemed to be in some sort of daze.
“Do you need me to drive?” Jo asked.
Henrik chuckled hoarsely. “Nah, I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Aye. As fine as I’ll ever be.” He turned the ignition, and they got back on the road, back down to Nubbin’s Harbor. “We need to talk more about this and not on the side of the road.”
“Agreed.”
It wasn’t an ideal location, telling him in his truck, but she really had just wanted to get it out there and let him know what had happened. He had the right to know, and she really couldn’t hold it back for long.
“Would you like to have dinner at my place?” he asked. “I have a nice roast in my slow cooker. I usually eat alone, but I think we have a lot to discuss.”
“That sounds good.”
And she was quite hungry.
Henrik nodded and didn’t say much more as they drove through town and down a winding gravel road that made its way out onto a thin spit of rock and land at the edge of the ocean. There was a small, run-down lighthouse that was no longer in operation.
The little cottage attached to it was yellow. It reminded her of a bright sunny day. She’d often wondered who lived in this place.
“You live in the lighthouse?”
“I do. My great-grandad was a lighthouse keeper. When it was decommissioned, my gran bought it. It was her father’s place, where she grew up. When Gran died two years ago, it became mine.”
“I thought the town would want it as a historical site,” Jo said. “The lighthouses in Ontario are like that.”
Henrik chuckled. “Not here.”
Henrik parked his truck. He got out and opened the passenger-side door for her, taking her hand in his strong one to help her down, treating her like she was some fragile vessel that was about to break.
Although, she really wasn’t going to complain. David had treated her a bit like that, in their tender moments together. It was nice that it gave her that memory, but it also reminded her that she was finally getting her family despite it not being David. She had a fleeting thought that maybe she and Henrik could eventually have something more.
You don’t know him. He’s a stranger.
And that thought sobered her. Henrik wasn’t David.
Her husband had been someone incredibly special.
Henrik was just a polite, kind man she’d slept with once. She barely knew him. Just because he had certain similarities to David didn’t mean anything in the long run.
Henrik’s family home was like all the other clapboard houses that dotted Fogo Island. Its bright yellow paint was different from the reds and blues that she had seen since she’d arrived in Newfoundland, but it was bright and cheerful in the setting late-spring sun.
“Gran liked yellow,” Henrik offered. “Everyone always comments on it. It’s like a large lemon.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jo said. “It seems to suit it.”
He smiled, those blue eyes twinkling at her just like they had a month ago. “Well, I often get asked why I live in a yellow house. Why I live in a cottage that should be for a little old lady.”
“Who says that?” she asked.
“Some of the well-meaning saucy women in town. ‘Oh, lover, you should really think about sprucing up your home. ’tis not fit for a man like you.’”
Jo’s eyes widened. “The ladies in town call you lover?”
Henrik laughed. “No, it doesn’t mean the same thing when it’s said in a syrupy, condescending tone. It’s meant as a form of endearment. Like dearie. Not everyone says it, but a few women around Nubbin’s Harbor do. Most people refer to others as ducky.”
“Oh, I was going to ask if you were some kind of Fogo Island playboy,” she teased.
“Only with the come from aways. Never the bayfolk.” He smiled, that same devious smile that had won her over a month ago. Although, Jo was still adamant that it wasn’t his charm but rather the screech that had done it. She chuckled to herself at that thought.
No, she couldn’t blame the drink. She had definitely been drawn to him before her screech-in.
He opened the door to his house.
The scent of the roast beef that he had in his slow cooker made her stomach growl the moment she stepped into the mudroom. She was nervous stepping into Henrik’s world. It was incredibly intimate.
Even more so than a hotel room.
Henrik took her coat, his fingers brushing her shoulders which sent a thrill down her spine.
“Smells wonderful in here,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t shake.
“Ta,” he said. “I do enjoy cooking.”
She was impressed that he could cook. David hadn’t been much for cooking, and she was a bit of a disaster in the kitchen herself.
“How is it?” she had asked.
David had smiled, but she’d been able to tell he was overchewing, and the smile hadn’t reached his eyes.
“It’s good.”
“You’re lying. It’s spaghetti. It’s not hard.”
“Oh...you’re wrong. It’s definitely hard.”
“What?” she’d asked, horrified.
“Crunchy is more like it.”
Josephine smiled as the memory faded away.
Henrik slipped off his coat and hung it up with hers, as she kicked off her shoes.
“Make yourself at home. I’m going to start a fire to get some heat going, and dinner should be ready soon.” Henrik disappeared around the corner, and she heard the back door shut.
Jo made her way into the tiny parlor that had vintage furniture and crocheted afghans. She could see why the women of Nubbin’s Harbor were concerned about him living in his grandparents’ home. It certainly didn’t scream bachelor or young man.
Still, it was homey.
And she felt comfortable here. It put her at ease when, inside, she was just a jangle of nerves.
She looked at various family pictures. Black-and-white grainy photographs of the lighthouse when it was functional, and men with catches of fish. It was like a family history, a tapestry, on the faded floral wallpaper that lined the home.
She had family pictures somewhere. In a box, in her storage unit.
Her place in Toronto had been functional and minimalistic.
There was something cozy and eclectic about Henrik’s place.
The door in the back opened, and he peered around the corner. “The fire is lit. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
Jo made her way to the kitchen, which surprised her: it was so modern and updated compared to the rest of the house. This felt more like a successful bachelor’s place. All modern and clean.
“I’m renovating,” Henrik said, pulling out two plates from the cupboard. “The house is a work in progress, and Gran’s kitchen still had a coal stove, so it had to be done first. Just in case you’re wondering about the decor elsewhere.”
Jo laughed. “I’m sure your work keeps you busy.”
“It does.” He set down the plates at the table. “Have a seat. Everything is in one pot, as it were. The beef, the potatoes and carrots.”
“It smells wonderful. Thank you for inviting me over and sharing your dinner with me.”
“It’s no problem.” Henrik served up the meal. The roast was so tender he didn’t even have to cut it. It seemed to fall apart on the serving platter. Once he had everything out of his slow cooker, he set the platter on the table. “I would offer you wine, but I don’t think that’s wise. I have bottled water.”
She nodded. “Water is great.”
Henrik got her a bottle from the fridge and one for himself. He served her food first and then took some for himself. Jo couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down at a meal like this. Probably when her own grandparents had been alive.
“You’re smiling so dreamily,” Henrik said. “Am I that good of a cook?”
“Sorry! Yes, it’s delicious, but I was just thinking of my own grandmother and her house. Your living room reminded me a bit of a time capsule.”
Henrik smiled. “It is, but I’m having a hard time parting with it. It reminds me so much of my gran. Still, it’ll eventually be renovated.”
“I can understand that. You had her in your life for a long time.”
“When did your grandmother die?” he asked.
“When I was fourteen, and then the year after, we buried my grandfather. I swear he died of a broken heart. I know that’s a silly thing to say, but he just gave up.”
And then the memory hit her from nowhere.
“Jo, you can’t lie here all day. You have work to get back to,” her mother had said softly. “David would want you to continue on.”
“It’s easy enough to say but not to do,” she’d murmured.
After his death, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to get up out of bed. It had felt like she had a gaping wound in her chest and her life was over. What was there to live for?
“Don’t be like my father. Please,” her mother had said, her voice catching. “Live. David would want you to live.”
Only, she hadn’t felt like living at that moment.
She’d wanted to be with David and not live alone with their shattered dreams.
“I could believe dying of a broken heart,” Henrik said thoughtfully, continuing on with the conversation and jarring her from her thoughts.
There was that connection between them again. The shared pain as if he knew grief in the same way she did.
“Could you?” she asked, as she swallowed the tears that were threatening to spill.
“Yes. Almost thought my gran would die when my grandad did. She held on, but she was never the same.”
She understood that all too well.
It made her uncomfortable to think about the struggle it had been to hold on after David died.
“Well, we’re not here to talk about that,” she said, trying to steer the conversation away from broken hearts and shattered dreams.
There was a life growing inside her that they had to discuss.
“Right. The baby,” Henrik said stiffly.
“Yes. As I said, I can take full responsibility. I kind of sprung this on you, and we didn’t make any promises to each other that night. So you can be as involved as you want. It’s up to you. I’m not expecting anything.”
Henrik frowned. “Aye, but I do take full responsibility. It is my child too.”
“Yes.” She was glad that he wanted to be in their child’s life. She wasn’t sure how it was all going to work out when she left Newfoundland and returned to Ontario, but they’d be able to organize some kind of custody arrangement. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
Henrik nodded. “So do you think we ought to get married?”