The storm continued to rage even after they’d finished dinner and cleaned up the dishes. Bo hated to think of what the wind and rain were doing to the place where he lived. He’d been through hard times before. This was nothing in comparison. He didn’t even own the cabin, so the financial fallout wouldn’t affect him. But he’d been comfortable there and would be expected to do most of the repair work. And the damage came right when he thought he’d finally gotten his life on a solid footing.
Nothing was ever easy...
They attempted to watch a movie—Where the Crawdads Sing, since he’d recommended the book—but the internet was out, and it wouldn’t stream correctly on either of their phones. So, seeing the white and black marble chess set on the coffee table, he suggested a game. Anything would be better than continuing to answer Ismay’s questions. He’d been careful so far, told her only general information that wouldn’t lead anywhere. He wasn’t using his real name, anyway. But he couldn’t tell her more specifics about the village where he grew up, how far it was from New Orleans, or too many details about his mother’s murder. He didn’t want what he’d been through holding him back any longer, didn’t want the people on Mariners to be afraid of him or assume he was dangerous. He also didn’t want to lose his job, and if the truth came out, he probably would, since he’d lied to obtain it.
“I haven’t played chess in forever,” Ismay said as he carried the board to the kitchen table.
“I play all the time on my phone,” he told her. And that was about all he’d done in prison, besides reading and working out. Betting on games with the other inmates, and occasionally a correctional officer, was the only way he could get funds for the cantina. Many of the prisoners had family putting money on their books. He had no one. His uncle had come to visit him twice, but with Chester’s health failing and the fact that he didn’t own a car, the prison was too hard for him to reach. And he had no money to send.
Ismay gave him a cautious look. “That’s worrisome...”
He grinned. “Only if you’re afraid of losing.”
“The idea of beating me? That’s what finally brings a smile to your lips?”
“Someone has to win. Might as well be me,” he said jokingly. She’d probably never experienced much loss, certainly not the way he had. She could lose a game of chess. A game of chess was nothing. It wasn’t as if they were putting any money on it.
“No way,” she said. “I’ll just do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
She put up a good fight, but he beat her handily—and quicker the second time.
“Why don’t we play something else?” she asked when he won three games in a row. “This is far too easy for you.”
“Like what?”
“Cards?”
“Do we have any?”
“I saw a deck in the drawer earlier when I was searching for a flashlight.”
“So...what are you suggesting? Some two-person version of poker?”
“Why not cribbage? I used to play with my brother all the time. It can be a two-player game.”
“I’ve seen cribbage mentioned in a book or two; never played it.”
“Good. Maybe I’ll beat you for a change,” she said, but they were just setting up when she got a call from Remy.
“Give me one sec,” she told Bo and stepped away from the table but not from the kitchen. “Hey, babe. Thanks for calling... Yeah, I’ve got power. The generator’s still working. Bo says the propane tank holds three hundred gallons and can last for a couple of days, at least. But you’ll never believe this—a tree fell on Bo’s cabin and caved in the roof... Yeah, he’s okay. He’s here at the cottage with me... I have no idea, but it’s still going strong right now. We’re just hoping it’ll blow over by morning... What’d you say?... We’re in the middle of a terrible storm, Remy. We’re just trying to get through it... Of course not! I can’t believe you’d even say that!”
Bo began to feel uncomfortable again. Ismay had insisted that having him come to the cottage was the only logical choice they had, but he could tell Remy wasn’t happy about it.
“Where else would you like him to go?... Forget it,” she said. “You must be too tired to think straight, or you wouldn’t be saying any of this... Who cares what the neighbors will think? This could be life and death!”
“I can leave,” Bo murmured after standing up and touching her arm to gain her attention, but she waved emphatically for him to sit back down.
“Go ahead and go to sleep,” she said into the phone. “I can’t deal with this right now... No, we’ll talk about it in the morning... Well, maybe this is one time you won’t get your way,” she said and disconnected.
“I should go back to the cabin,” Bo said and got up again.
“No.” She followed him to the door, putting her hand on the panel when he tried to open it. “If you leave, I’ll just have to come out in the storm again to check on you. Why keep me up all night, worrying? Remy is safe in California, where it’s probably hard to imagine what we’re going through over here, especially because he believes I must be exaggerating. He says it’s not the season for nor’easters or hurricanes.”
She’d told Remy about the tree that’d fallen on the cabin. But Bo didn’t point that out. Maybe he wouldn’t leave. Why give the spoiled Remy what he wanted when they had such a good excuse not to, one they could easily explain to Annabelle so there would be no risk of him losing his job? Why not let Remy worry all night that his fiancée was stranded in the cottage with another man?
It would probably be the greatest adversity Remy Windsor had ever faced... “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Let’s go ahead and play cribbage. I’ll teach you how.”
Her phone went off again. She looked at it but silenced the ringer.
Bo nodded his head toward it. “That him?”
“He’s not used to anyone hanging up on him, especially me,” she said ruefully. “But I don’t want to get into it with him. You and I are in an unusual situation. If he’s not going to be understanding and supportive, it’s better I talk to him when this is all over. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever cheated on him. I don’t deserve his distrust.”
Maybe she hadn’t cheated, would never cheat, but Ismay was a beautiful, smart, engaging person with a kind and generous heart. As far as he could tell, she had it all. Who wouldn’t want a woman like that? If she were his fiancée, he’d probably be jealous, too—just because he’d be so afraid of losing her. A man with his background couldn’t even hope to attract someone like her.
But Bo was pretty sure Remy’s jealousy stemmed more from control than fear. He wanted to tell her what to do, even though he was three thousand miles away. “Okay,” he said. “I guess I’ll learn cribbage.”
She beat him in the first two games; he beat her in the third. By then, it was getting late, and the storm finally seemed to be waning. But Bo didn’t leave. She wouldn’t hear of him going back to a house with a tree fallen through it. Instead, they got pillows and blankets from the bedrooms and curled up on separate couches with the lantern he’d brought glowing softly on the coffee table between them.
“It was nice of you to come check on me,” he said, breaking the silence before she could drift off to sleep.
“Be careful,” she warned with a yawn.
He adjusted his pillow so that he could better see the outline of her shape. “Or...?”
“You might end up with a friend, and I get the impression you’re not too keen on letting people get that close to you.”
“Is that how I come off?” he asked.
“You didn’t know?”
Of course, he knew. But he also regretted it. It wasn’t what he’d choose if he had a choice. Some things just couldn’t be helped. “It’s not a complete surprise.”
She drew her blanket up higher. “Will you make an allowance for me?”
“Sure,” he replied with a chuckle. Why not? She lived clear across the country. He just had to get through the next couple of months without revealing too much about himself. Then he’d probably only see her when she returned now and then with Remy, as Remy’s wife—and Bo had no doubt that would be an entirely different experience.
Ismay woke to the smell of coffee and...sausage? She inhaled again. Yes, sausage. “You’re up already?” she called out to Bo with a stretch.
“Already?” Bo echoed from the kitchen. “It’s nearly eight o’clock.”
She chuckled. He’d said that as if it were almost noon. “Clearly, I’m being lazy,” she said. “But I’ve spent the last several years studying until all hours of the night only to get up a few hours later to take a test or attend a class. I plan to sleep in all I can while I’m here.”
“Might as well enjoy it,” he said, his voice still drifting from near the stove. “You’ll have to get back on a stricter schedule when you start your practice in July, won’t you?”
“Not necessarily. I’ll be in business for myself, so I’m hoping to set my own hours.” She pushed the few strands of hair that’d fallen from her ponytail out of her face. “The money and other effort I’ve put toward getting through college should bring me something.”
“Must be nice to be able to call the shots.”
She leaned up on one elbow to look over the back of the couch so she could see him. “The lack of a degree doesn’t seem to be hurting you.”
“Who knows where I’d be if I had an education?” he said. “What you’ve done means a lot. You should be proud of yourself.”
He seemed sincere, as though he truly admired what she’d accomplished. She wasn’t used to that. Although Remy was quick to give lip service if the subject ever came up, she could tell he wasn’t impressed by law school or even that she’d passed the bar on her first attempt. He thought what he was doing was so much harder—and more admirable. Invariably, he ended up pointing that out. “It’s not too late. Will you ever get your GED and maybe a bachelor’s?” she asked.
“I doubt it.”
Dishes rattled as he cooked. “Why not?”
“That ship has sailed. At this point, I wouldn’t have the patience. Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. You?”
“Like a rock.”
She’d actually awakened twice and listened to the wind rattling the windows, trying to determine if the storm was truly abating. In the dim light of the lantern, she’d also watched his face, serene in sleep, and wondered why she’d taken such an immediate liking to him. As guarded and defensive as he was, she should probably be more leery of him. But he came across as steady, solid, and reliable—all traits that made her trust him, probably because he reminded her of her father, who was also a strong, hardworking man of few words.
Not like Remy, who loved being the center of attention. He talked a lot, especially when there was someone to impress, and laughed loudly without much care.
It wasn’t surprising that Bo would eschew the limelight and always be on the lookout for the next jagged edge he might encounter, Ismay decided. Experience had taught each man different things. Remy, who’d been sheltered and given everything he could possibly dream of, believed the old cliché—the world was his oyster. Bo, whose mother had been murdered when he was ten, leaving him without a protector and a provider, had known only rough seas.
She fell somewhere in between. Part of her identified with Remy. She’d had enough security, love, and opportunity to embrace his optimistic “go get ’em” attitude. It wasn’t as if she had much to complain about. But she’d also had to work hard, first helping with her younger siblings and then getting a job at a fast-food joint when she was sixteen. She’d worked ever since, had just quit her job as a barista at a local coffee shop when she passed the bar. Her parents couldn’t help too much, not with seven other children.
“What’re you making?” she asked.
“Breakfast burritos,” he replied. “You cooked dinner, so I figured it was my turn. Hope you’re hungry.”
“I usually just grab a coffee and call it good until lunch, but whatever you’re cooking smells delicious, so I think I’ll make an exception.”
“I’m happy to hear that since I used your groceries.”
She heard the smile in his voice and had to smile, too. Last night, he wouldn’t have taken the liberty of so much as opening the cupboards. Maybe he really had accepted her as a friend.
After kicking off her blanket, she instinctively reached for her phone. Remy would be angry with her for hanging up on him last night. No doubt they’d argue today. She hadn’t even answered the texts he’d sent afterward, essentially ordering her to call him back.
But it was three hours earlier in California, only 5:00 a.m. He wouldn’t be up yet, so she had some time before she had to deal with that.
“Any word from your fiancé?”
She twisted around to see Bo leaning past the corner, looking at her. “Not yet.”
“I hope he won’t be too mad.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong—he did.” She believed Remy should be the one to apologize, but she could easily guess he wouldn’t. Why’d you hang up on me? What guy would want his fiancée spending the night with another dude?
Never mind that she’d just met Bo, she was only trying to help him, or that Remy should care about his well-being, too. After all, Bo worked for his parents. That should mean something even if he couldn’t muster any concern for basic humanitarian reasons.
She got up and went to the bathroom before pulling her hair into a better ponytail and brushing her teeth. Fortunately, she could no longer hear the wind or rain, and what she could see through the small bathroom window showed only a slight drizzle falling on a soggy landscape with driftwood and broken tree branches strewn all over. “I think we’re through the worst of it,” she told Bo as she entered the kitchen.
He was holding a spatula when he turned away from the stove. “I should go out and check on a few neighbors. See if everyone’s okay.”
“Do you know many people on the island?”
“Not a lot. Just those who live closest. Only one—a widow named Honey Wellington—lives here year-round. She’s who I’m most concerned about.”
“How old is she?”
“Seventy, at least.”
“Hopefully she didn’t lose power. It got pretty cold last night.”
“I’ll look in on her first.” He handed her a plate with a fat burrito on it and nodded toward the coffee maker. “Help yourself.”
“Aw, caffeine. I’m eternally grateful,” she joked and left her plate on the table while she poured a cup and topped off the one he had sitting on the counter near the stove.
“Are you afraid to see what’s left of your house?” she asked as she slid into a seat.
“I’m not looking forward to it. But it is what it is. I’ll get it cleaned up and put back together.”
“That big a job won’t happen all in one day. You should stay here again tonight.”
He slanted her a glance. “I doubt Remy would approve.”
“I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, we don’t even need to tell him.”
“What if he finds out?”
“Having you here doesn’t hurt a single thing. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I wouldn’t want to cause a problem for you,” he said. “I can get the tree out of the way so I can patch the roof, at least.”
“Well, if it takes longer than you think, you know you have a place.”
When he caught and held her gaze, she could tell he was surprised she’d stand by the offer. “Thank you.”
Her phone went off before she could respond.
Everyone she knew lived in the west. Who would be calling her at six in the morning California time?
When she retrieved it from the coffee table, a picture of her handsome brother filled the screen, and she had to amend the time in her mind. It was seven in Utah, which wasn’t all that early, especially for him. Since he farmed with their father, he got up at the crack of dawn.
Assuming he was calling to check on her since she’d told him about the storm last night, she said to Bo, “Sorry to interrupt breakfast, but it’s my brother. Do you mind if I take it?”
As soon as he indicated he didn’t, she hit the Talk button. “Hey, Jack.”
When there was a long pause before she got a response, she knew something was wrong.
“What is it?” she asked, immediately tensing up. “Are Mom and Dad okay?” Her father had had a heart attack a year ago. She was terrified he’d had another one.
“Everyone...” He cleared his throat. “Everyone’s okay.” He’d had to choke out those words, which made her suspect him of crying. If he was, it’d be the first time she’d ever known her brother to break down—since he was eight years old, anyway.
“Then...what is it?” she asked.
“Ashleigh never came home last night.”
His wife. They’d been high school sweethearts since the ninth grade, gone to Utah State University in Logan, which was only thirty minutes from where they lived, and married when they turned twenty-one. But they had no children. Ashleigh had miscarried three times that Ismay knew about in the past five years. “She hasn’t been in an accident...”
“No.”
“Then...what is it?”
Bo was watching her. He could tell something wasn’t right.
“She left me, Is.”
Ismay sat up straighter. “Left you?! You two have been together since you were kids. Were you having problems?” She’d just talked to him last night, for crying out loud. He’d been waiting for Ashleigh to return from running some errands.
“Not that I knew of. I mean...she’s been remote lately. Quiet. But she’s always been reserved. I just thought...she was upset about our inability to have kids. She’s been wanting to try for another baby, but I was hesitant. Each miscarriage takes so much out of her. I was telling her we should adopt instead.”
Ismay didn’t say it, but she was secretly glad they didn’t have any children if they were about to go through a divorce. “Don’t tell me there’s someone else...”
He had to clear his throat again to be able to speak. “Apparently...there is.”
They lived in such a small town. Was it someone she knew—someone he knew? That would make the split even harder on him to have to see her with another man at church or around town.
“Who?” she asked, hoping he’d tell her it was someone she’d met online. Then maybe she’d move away from Tremonton, and he wouldn’t have to live with the constant reminder.
“Jessica Davidson.”
Ismay nearly dropped her phone. Had she heard him correctly? There was no way she could have... “Did you mean John Davidson? Jessica went to school with me. She was on my basketball team.”
“I mean Jessica.”
“But...Jessica’s married, too. And she has three kids.”
“Yeah, her last name is Schultz now, and her husband was just here. He’s as devastated as I am.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. I really am. I feel so bad for you.”
“I’ve never even considered the possibility she might leave me—for anyone.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I—I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.”
Ismay’s stomach knotted as she leaned her elbows on the table. “You’ll get through it,” she heard herself say. “I know it’s hard to hear that now, but it’s true.”
“Do you think... Do you think she ever really loved me?” he asked in bewilderment.
“Of course, she did!”
“She’s never even slept with anyone else,” he said. “How does she know she’s gay?”
“The same way you know you’re not. You’ve never slept with anyone else, either, have you?”
“No. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
Ismay had never felt more helpless. She could hear his pain—feel it—coming through the phone. “Have you told Mom and Dad?”
“Yeah. Everyone knows.”
Her parents and siblings had to be upset, too. What she was about to suggest probably wouldn’t make them any happier, but she felt compelled to speak up for her brother’s sake. “Jack?”
“What?” He sounded somewhat distracted, as if lost in his own thoughts.
“You once told me you don’t want to be a farmer like Dad.”
“I never have,” he admitted.
“Maybe this is your chance to do something about it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Until you meet someone else, you won’t have to worry about stability, being able to afford a house, or kids. You can break away, start over, do something else.”
“I can’t even think about that right now.”
“Why not?” she asked. “It’d be an escape—from everything. You have some savings, don’t you?”
“What we were planning on using for a house. But if we divorce, I’ll have to give half of that to Ashleigh.”
“You’ll still have something. Use it to come out here and rent a house. Spend the summer with me.”
“On Mariners?”
“Why not? It might be a good change for you, help you figure out what you really want in life.”
“What about Dad? He needs me, or I wouldn’t have started farming to begin with.”
“The other kids are older now. Mom and Dad will be okay. Hank likes to farm. He’s been helping lately, too, right?”
“He has. It’s been more fun having him around.”
“Just...think about the possibility,” she said. “I don’t want you to make a decision right now. But if you need to get away...”
“Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be able to escape the wreckage she’s leaving behind.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ismay said again and felt tears well up in her eyes. “I’d do anything I could to save you from this.”
“I know. That’s why I called you.” He chuckled without mirth. “Big sister to the rescue.” She heard something in the background, then he said, “I have to go. Dad’s waiting for me to bring the tractor down to the south forty.”
“Come to Mariners,” she said. “It’s time for a fresh start.”
She thought he’d turn her down; she was certain he wouldn’t be able to pull away while he was going through something as difficult as a divorce. But he shocked her by saying, “Maybe I will.”
“What is it?” Bo asked after she disconnected.
She set her phone on the table and watched it like it was a cobra that’d just taken a bite out of her. “My brother’s wife left him last night.”
“That’s too bad. Do you think he’ll come to Mariners?”
“Not really. But I wish he would. It’d be good for him.”
“If he does, I can probably get him a house-sitting gig. All he’d have to do is look after the place—wouldn’t have to pay rent.”
She felt a fresh burst of hope. “You think that’s a real possibility?”
“I do. You know that widow I mentioned? Her kids have been after her to come to Pennsylvania, where they live. Two of her grandchildren are on a travel softball team, so they can’t visit the island like they usually do. She turned them down because she won’t leave her house. But if I assure her it’d be in good hands, I bet she’d take the opportunity. As lonely as she is, it’d be good for her, too.”
“That would be fabulous!”
He nodded and after being so careful not to get anywhere close to her, he surprised her by lightly touching her shoulder in an obvious act of compassion. “I’ll talk to her.”