Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“A sh, can you tell me why the thermostat in Aidan’s room was down so low?”
“Oh dear. Was it?” her sister asked, with overly innocent eyes.
“And he can’t find the controller either.”
“Really?”
She sighed. “You know we’re not supposed to freeze our guests into leaving.”
“I know our guests are not supposed to come here under false pretences,” Aisling snipped.
True. But still, “It’s a little petty, don’t you think?”
“Says the woman who refuses to talk to him.”
Okay. That was fair. “I know. I’ve behaved pretty childishly too.”
“But it is satisfying, isn’t it?”
Rory bit back a smile. Yes. Playing petty was plenty satisfying. Until it wasn’t. She felt bad, knowing her actions hardly reflected how she was supposed to behave. Not just as a hotel manager, but also as a Christian. Sorry, Lord .
“Could you please adjust it back to the normal temperature? And return the controller as well?”
“Fine. Act like the mature one, why don’t you?” Aisling rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs.
Rory returned to the computer and was soon lost in social media prep for several of the charities she volunteered for when her phone buzzed. Aisling. “Yeah?”
“Um, did you happen to see a kayaker in trouble?”
“Is someone on the kayaks? Nobody has booked them.”
“Well, booked or not, I’m looking out the window in the upstairs hall, and there’s someone who looks like they’re speeding towards Canada. And it sure looks like one of our kayaks.”
“What?”
She hurried to the lounge area, and snatched up a pair of binoculars they had on hand for the rare whale spotting. She refocused and glanced out across the bay. Where…?
There! The bright orange kayak certainly did look like one of theirs, and the dark-haired man…
Oh no! She threw the binoculars down, grabbed her phone and oversized jacket, and raced out the door, stabbing at the phone as she spoke. “Ash? It’s Aidan.”
“What?”
“The kayaker. I think it’s Aidan.”
“I’ll call Bob.” The resorts outdoorsman. The one who would normally deal with all outdoor emergencies. Except he was off fixing a path at the other side of the golf course, and she’d have to spend minutes they didn’t have trying to explain things.
“There’s no time.”
She shrugged into the jacket as she hurried to the boathouse, thankful she was wearing trainers and not heels, then paused as a couple drew close, holding a paddle.
“We found this on the shore.”
One guess who that belonged to. “Thanks. I’m going to find him now.”
Irritation battled fear. Seriously—what special kind of arrogance made an inexperienced tourist head off in a kayak without telling anyone?
She snatched the keys and undid the ropes that secured the speedboat kept for emergencies like this.
They had all learned how to drive it, even if it had been a while since she’d taken it out.
Where to start… She checked the fuel gauge, the anchor, then turned the ignition.
A few seconds to warm, then she slowly increased the throttle, the wind whipping her hair.
She shoved it out of her eyes. She hoped he could swim.
But he was Australian, and all Aussies could swim, couldn’t they?
“Lord, keep him safe. Help me get there in time.”
Once clear of the rocks she negotiated the channel and powered the boat through to where the kayak was flailing, the current chugging it along, water slapping the sides, drenching the occupant.
Aidan lifted his hand and waved, and for a second she was tempted to pretend she hadn’t seen him and leave him floundering.
“Come on, you’re bigger than that,” she muttered.
She slowed the boat, nearing the stricken kayak with the extremely embarrassed looking kayaker, who was now full body shivering as she cut the engine and grabbed a rope. Good. Maybe he’d learn to not arrogantly go full steam ahead. Guilt panged. God, I need more of Your grace.
Aidan met her gaze. “Th-thank you. Thank you so much.”
Okay, gratitude she could work with. She held up the rope. “Are you able to tie this to the metal ring on the bow?”
“The bow?”
She suppressed an eye-roll and pointed to the kayak’s front. “The front.”
“Uh, I’ll see.” He glanced at her. “I’m so sorry.”
Remorse she could work with too. “We’ll get you back soon, but first we need you to tie it up.”
“I lost the paddle.”
“I know.”
He peered at her. “How—?”
“Could you please just concentrate on tying it up? We can talk about what happened—and what should’ve happened—later.”
He looked chagrined at this, and despite his fumbles finally managed to tie it, while she double-checked she’d secured the knot on the boat.
“Uh, do you want me to stay in the k-kayak?”
She couldn’t restrain an eye-roll at that. “And what—have me drag you behind? What do you take me for?”
Judging from that expression he gave her, maybe she didn’t want to know.
Fine. She extended the metal ladder. “Can you make it up or do you need a hand?”
Was it bad that she was kind of enjoying this? Probably. But considering all he’d put her and her family through in recent days, she didn’t mind. Too much.
He grasped the metal ladder, and whether it was his shivers or something else he slipped. She flung her hand out, grasped his flailing one. Gritted her teeth as his weight slammed her against the handrail lining the edge. “Ow.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Stop being so sorry and just get in.”
“I’m t-t-trying.”
“I thought you were tougher than this.”
That seemed to fire him up, as he gripped the edge and hauled himself up. Tendons rippled in his forearms as he climbed over the edge and almost fell into the speedboat. She handed him the jacket she’d been wearing.
“But you’ll be c-c-cold.”
That was thoughtful. “I’m not the one who has been shivering.”
He shook his head. “I c-c-can’t.”
“I think you’ll find you can. Here.” She helped him in, and yes, it was a bit tight, but “It’s pre-warmed, see?”
He nodded, and she zipped it up. Standing close to him like this was dangerous. She was reminded again how easy it would be to let herself fall into his swoon-inducing scent instead of remembering why she didn’t want to be near him.
She gently pushed him to sit, then grabbed a blanket from the storage cupboard and gave that to him. “I’m afraid it’s musty as it’s been awhile since that got used, but it’ll keep you warm at least. But it’d be better if you stay low so the wind doesn’t get you.”
He nodded. “Th-thanks.”
“Oh, and here’s a bottle of water.” Another find from the emergency kit. She gently lobbed it at him. “It might taste a little stale but I’m guessing you won’t mind.”
“I d-don’t mind at all.”
She turned her back on him, then, after checking the kayak was still secured, slowly made her way back to the jetty.
A small crowd had gathered near the boathouse, and if she had been the gloating kind—okay, she totally was the gloating kind—then she’d take no small amount of satisfaction from his embarrassment.
“I feel like such an idiot,” he muttered.
Was it too soon to say—
“Well, perhaps if you’d told someone of your intentions, then you wouldn’t be in this mess, would you?”
Apparently not.
He groaned.
She shot him a glance. “You know we have a strong current that does that, which is why we don’t encourage the use of kayaks or wild swimming in the afternoon.”
“I know that now,” he muttered.
“Which is exactly why we ask people to let us know when they plan to take out the kayaks. It’s in the guidebook in your room.”
He winced. “Yeah, I think I r-remember something about that now.”
She sighed. “Well, I suppose nothing beats experience.”
“I won’t be doing that again.”
“I don’t blame you.” She peeked at him. “You know you would’ve been warmer if you’d been wearing the life preserver.”
He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got it all wrong.”
“Have you ever kayaked before?”
“Yes.” Defensiveness loaded the word. “But it’s different here.”
“Yes, this is real. Let me guess: you’ve gone to one of those places where they have controlled rapids and things?”
“H-how did you know?”
“Look, I can understand you might think you know some things, but don’t underestimate us. Those warnings,” she pointed to the side of the boathouse, “are there for a reason.”
“I know.”
She frowned. “Can you even swim?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
* * *
She still didn’t believe him? Okay, he could understand why she might have some trust issues, but this was taking his shame to a whole new level. A level somewhere in the basement, or below even that.
He huddled into his blanket, refusing to look at the people standing outside the boatshed. He’d caught a glimpse of red hair and figured one was probably Aisling.
He sighed, the action drawing in the scent of Rory’s fragrance that lined her jacket. He knew she didn’t like him, but the fact she’d pre-warmed the jacket made him feel like she might not outright hate him.
“Uh, I’m really sorry for putting you to all this t-trouble.”
She quit the engine and steered the boat into the boathouse, and he wondered what she was really thinking. He knew she thought him a pain. That was fair enough. But he really wanted her to know he was grateful.
“Um, Rory?”
She glanced around. Her face softened. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
He stood, tried to unzip her jacket but his fingers were still too clumsy, the cold making them ache. He stumbled, and the boat rocked. She put out a hand, flat on his chest, and he held it close to his heart.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Before the others get here, I just wanted to say that I’m glad it was you who came to my rescue.”
“Why?” Her voice was breathy.
“Because I didn’t think you liked me.”
She tugged her hand away. “I certainly didn’t want you to die.”
Oh. So maybe he’d been a bit presumptive in thinking she’d gotten over her dislike. “Um, anyway, I want you to know I’m in your debt.”
Her smile held a disconcerting quality. “I know that.”
Right.
The door opened, and Aisling and a grizzled older man burst in. “Are you both okay?” Aisling demanded.
“We’re fine.” Rory jerked a thumb at him. “This one is feeling a wee bit sorry for himself.”
“I’m not,” he protested. “I’m just a bit c-cold, that’s all.”
She studied him, then half-smiled. “Come on then. Let’s get you warmed up inside.”
Heat pooled in his belly at her smile, at the way her gaze finally met and melded with his at last.
He smiled, and saw how her expression softened a little more. And suddenly wished her sister and the old man who was fussing with the kayak were far away. Maybe there was a way to reconcile, to see if these fluttering sensations could develop into something more, something real.
The old man held out a hand, and Aidan gripped it, and was hefted up onto dry land. He waited for Rory to finish then she was helped up and out, bumping into him as she stood beside him.
“Oops, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
She shivered, and he extended his blanket to her. “Want to share? It’s pre-warmed.”
She chuckled, as he hoped she would, and lo and behold she did join him. Or at least tugged a corner of the blanket and wrapped it around her.
“I’m glad you don’t hate me,” he murmured, for her ears only.
“Of course I don’t hate you.”
“So you like me?”
“Now I didn’t say that.”
His lips flicked up, her answer stirring appreciation. There might be a lot still to work through, but the fact she didn’t hate him, he’d take as a win.
He exited the boathouse, conscious of people watching, holding up their cameras and filming, like they thought him a celebrity. Conscious, too, of the way Rory shifted away, as if afraid to be seen near him. His heart fell.
“Rory, you were amazing!” someone called. “You’re a heroine!”
Okay. Clearly the celebrity was her.
“We saw it all, got it filmed.”
Great.
“How do you feel?” someone asked him.
“C-cold.”
“Yes, we really need to get these two inside, thanks.” Aisling’s words seemed to be enough for people to scatter and let them pass through on to the hotel.
He couldn’t wait to get warm. Oh. His steps slowed.
“What is it?” Rory asked.
“I’m so c-cold but I really hope the room will be warm enough.”
She slid a look at her sister. “I’m sure it’s been amended.”
“Um, I’ll just go and check. Okay?” Aisling ran ahead without a backward look.
He glanced at Rory, saw her cheeks lift then her lips press together, like she was trying to hide a smile.
“What do you know?”
“I’m sure you’ll find it warmer than before.”
But when they got to his room, it was to find that the temperature was now near tropical compared to the Antarctic levels of coldness from earlier. Like someone had turned on the heat to full bore. Or was it full boil?
“Well, I hope you feel warm enough now.” She smirked.
“Thanks.”
“You may find a bath helps. And a cup of tea. You’ll need to warm up from the inside, and I find those things usually help me.”
His eyes widened, but he kept his mouth closed, refusing to think about—
“I’m going to go,” she muttered, her cheeks pink.
“Um, thank you again. I’m pretty sure that man out there was right.”
“About what?”
“About you being a heroine.” He leaned against the door frame.
She shrugged, her gaze shy. “We might have our differences of opinions at times—”
Don’t go back there , he silently pleaded.
“—but I couldn’t let you drown.”
“No?” His voice dropped. “Why is that?” She had to care. A little bit, at least.
“Because a drowned guest would be a really bad look for the hotel.”