Chapter 4 #3
Luke nodded as his phone hummed with an incoming text. “That was fast.” He scanned the message. “Cal says he’s down at the dock right now, and if we can meet him there in about fifteen minutes, we can use the boat for the rest of the day.”
“Sweet.” She jammed her phone back into her pocket, then glanced at the mess he’d left in the garage beside the snowmobile. “Are you available now? I don’t want to interrupt.”
“I’m more than happy to set this project aside. Hank thinks we need to order new parts anyway.”
Except a boat ride meant more time, more space for conversation, and for memories to creep in. Whether he wanted them to or not.
He gestured for her to enter the resort first. “How are things at Lainey’s place?”
“The bed is sooo comfortable. I haven’t slept that well in weeks. And I had dinner at Dockside Pizza with Abbie last night. It was almost like…”
“Old times?”
Emma nodded, then stepped inside.
He thought about pizzas shared in the back booth.
Pitchers of soda they’d called “swamp water,” where Emma persuaded the server to mix all of the fountain drinks together in one sugary, carbonated concoction.
Her uncanny ability to hold the record for highest score on the vintage Ms. Pac-Man arcade game.
Thankfully, Mom stood at the desk in the resort, and her infectious smile put a stop to his stroll down memory lane.
“Guess what? I just booked a family of six. They want to stay for three nights next week and celebrate a milestone birthday.”
“Wow, that’s great,” Luke said. “Maybe we’ll have snowmobiles available by then.”
“Hello, Emma,” Mom said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. McGuire.” Emma stood in front of the desk, glancing around. “The place looks great. Did you renovate?”
Luke winced. Oof. She hadn’t been here to see the damage from the fire.
“Not because we wanted to.” Mom’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We had to rebuild the lobby, the great room, and add some ADA-compliant facilities after the fire.”
Two splotches of pink stained Emma’s cheeks. “Oh. Right. Luke mentioned that. I-I’m sorry to hear that happened.”
Oy. Not a trip down memory lane he wanted to take. Luke cleared his throat. “Mom, can you set Emma up with a pair of rubber boots, a water-resistant coat, and some gloves, please? We’re going to borrow Cal’s boat and zip out to her property.”
Mom’s eyebrows sailed upward. “That sounds like an adventure. Those sea lions are creating quite a stir, aren’t they? What do you think you’re going to do, Emma?”
“I have no idea.” Emma sighed. “There doesn’t seem to be an easy solution.”
Luke left them to find more appropriate gear for Emma and went down the hall and into the storage room. He grabbed water, snacks, and a first aid kit. Cal would have life jackets on board, so no need to pack those. He shoved everything into an orange dry bag and returned to the front desk.
Emma stood near the door, waiting. She’d donned a navy-blue parka with a hood and traded in her fancy sneakers for a pair of his mother’s knee-high black rubber boots.
“We’ll be back soon.” Luke waved to Mom. “Thanks for your help.”
Mom smiled at him over the frames of the reading glasses perched on her nose. “Be safe, Luke.”
“Always.” He grinned, then tugged the door shut behind him.
Emma followed him out to his truck. He stowed the dry bag in the back, then climbed behind the wheel.
She got in the passenger side and buckled her seat belt.
The aroma of something floral wafted toward him.
Lotion? Shampoo? It was different from anything he’d smelled before.
How had he not noticed yesterday? Maybe he’d been too shocked.
He’d waited nearly twenty years to get Emma riding shotgun beside him again.
What would her fiancé say if he knew she’d ridden with him twice in twenty-four hours?
They rode down to the dock in silence. As he slowed for the blinking caution light at the main intersection, Luke stole another glance at Emma.
She stared out the window. What did Redemption look like through her eyes?
Cars came and went from the small downtown.
A few people lingered outside the Copper Kettle coffee shop, hands wrapped around steaming cups, their breath curling in the cold air.
A sandwich board near the entrance read: Hot Coffee & Warm Company Inside.
The buildings along Main Street stood tall with their flat roofs and wide windows, some still showing signs of the recent disaster—cracked trim, plywood over broken glass, and the occasional boarded-up storefront.
Luke parked in one of the many empty spots near the harbor. He turned off the ignition, then glanced Emma’s way. “Ready?”
She hesitated, one hand on the door handle. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
They both climbed out of the truck. He pulled the bag from the cab, then followed Emma along the sidewalk overlooking the harbor.
At high tide, the ramp was nearly level with the floating dock.
The scent of brine and fish clung to the air, and the cries of gulls echoed across the water, competing with the occasional creak of a mooring line.
As they walked down the grated gangway, the dock shifted beneath them. Emma clutched the handrail and slowed down.
Cal waved from a nearby slip, where his twenty-five-foot cabin cruiser bobbed in the gray-green water. He had his baseball cap on backward, a hoodie slouched over his shoulders, worn jeans, and scuffed hiking boots.
“Hey, Cal.” Luke bumped his friend’s fist. “Thanks for helping us out.”
“You need me to ride along or you got this?” Cal asked.
“I got it,” Luke said. “Tate taught me well.”
“I’m sure he did.” Cal stuck out his hand, his nails black with grit. Emma didn’t hesitate. She shook it.
“Hi. I’m Emma. It’s nice to meet you, Cal.”
“You as well. That’s a cool piece of property you’ve got out there.”
Emma winced. “That’s what Hank just said. It used to be cool.”
“Come on.” Without thinking, Luke reached out, took her hand, and helped her step onto the boat’s deck. “This is Eliza Jane. Welcome aboard.”
Once they were settled and Luke had figured out the controls on the center console, Cal undid the lines and gave the boat a gentle shove off the dock.
“Text me when you’re on your way back. I’ll meet you here.”
“Got it. Thanks again.”
“No problem,” Cal said. “I owed you.”
The engines rumbled to life, the vibration humming beneath their feet as Luke eased out of the slip.
Emma stood near the stern on the port side, hands stuffed in her pockets, her hair whipping across her face in the salty breeze.
He steered them past the last row of slips and out of the harbor, the town shrinking behind them.
She braced against the shifting deck as they moved into open water.
The last time they took this route together, they were fifteen and seventeen, sneaking off in an old skiff for a covert adventure.
The same salty wind had tangled in her hair then, but back in those days she laughed as she tried to steer, her hands layered over his on the throttle.
Now she was quiet and guarded. He already knew she was different.
He’d seen it the second she stepped back into town.
Her Boston polish was a sharp contrast to Redemption’s rough edges.
But out here with nothing but the bay and old memories between them, the change seemed starker.
“You’re quiet today,” he said, keeping his tone easy.
She glanced over at him. “I’m just taking it all in.”
And maybe deciding whether she regretted coming back. He looked away, then adjusted their speed, steering them along the rugged coastline. Salt spray kicked up over the bow, and he shivered as the icy wind cut through his jacket collar.
“Remember that cove up ahead? We camped there once and built the worst bonfire known to man.”
A flicker of something crossed her face. Maybe a memory. “You did most of the work.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, and you mocked the whole process. Said I didn’t stack the driftwood right.”
She almost smiled. Almost.
They cruised past the cove, but he wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of a second look. Instead, he slowed down as they prepared to round the bend. Because once he passed the rocky outcropping on the right, her house and the sea lions would be in full view.
“Are you ready to see the house?”
She didn’t answer, just stared out across the water. Probably lost in another memory.
“Emma?” He tried again. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”
She straightened. “I have to.”
His chest pinched. Oh, how he wanted to protect her from the onslaught of hurt and grief she was about to encounter. Part of him wanted to whip Cal’s boat around and head for home. But he couldn’t shield her. It wasn’t his role. Not anymore. As much as he wanted it to be.