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Authors: Lisa T. Bergren

Torchlight (23 page)

BOOK: Torchlight
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A week later, in Tara’s Minneapolis hotel room, the phone rang.

“Ben! How’d you track me down?”

“I called that publishing house of yours in New York.”

“How are you and Mike?”

“Gettin’ on. How’s the tour?”

“It’s so much fun, Ben! I wish you could see it all with me. It’s like exploring Egg Island, except, of course, they’re cities. Not quite as picturesque, but full of history, and lots of things going on. Everything’s so fast: cars, people, talk. It makes Oak Harbor look like it’s in slow motion.”

“Does that mean you’re fallin’ for city life?”

“Oh no. But it sure is fun to visit. I’m having a ball. I cook on the morning shows and then have the afternoons free to explore.”

“Well, you’re being careful, aren’t you?”

“I’ve managed to stay alive so far, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, well. I worry about ya.”

“I know, Ben. You’ve always been good about protecting me. I wish you understood why.”

He paused awkwardly. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“Well, I’m just fine, Ben.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

H
omesick, Tara decided to return a day earlier than planned and went directly to Torchlight.

“Tara! What are you doing home?” Julia gave her a warm hug.

“I thought I’d sneak into town. I haven’t seen Ben yet—didn’t want to destroy the high of traveling as soon as I hit Oak Harbor. I wanted to get home and go sailing. I’m tired of cars and smog. I want the wind in my face! I cooked up a grand scheme on the plane home. Let’s you and me go out to one of the islands and camp out. The weather’s perfect. We could sail out this afternoon, spend the night, and come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do with the wedding coming up. The house is still a disaster.”

“Oh, come on, Julia. Be spontaneous! In the cities, I saw people making the most of every minute. Sometimes, at our slower pace, we take each minute for granted, doing the same thing day after day. Remember how it felt to kayak in Acadia? Let’s sail! Come on!”

“Well, okay.”

“Meet me in half an hour at my house. I’ve got all the supplies. You just need a sleeping bag, pillow, and clothes. Bring enough for two nights in case we decide to stay out.”

“Okay.”

Tara was gone before Julia could change her mind.

The two headed straight for the boat docks, prepared the
Sea Maiden
quickly, and eased her out of her slip. The gentle summer wind billowed out her sail.

“Where are we going, you wild and crazy woman?” Julia asked the ship’s captain.

“Bourgeois Island! My friends and I used to spend the night out there as kids. It’s only an hour away.”

Julia did her best to help, hoisting and letting down sails as Tara directed. The late afternoon sun was still warm, and Julia felt comfortable in her Windbreaker and shorts. The forecast called for continued warm summer weather with little precipitation; she had heard the report herself that morning.

“Did you tell Trevor where you were going?” Tara hollered over the wind.

“I told him you and I were going camping, but not where. We’re not into long conversations these days.”

“Men! Who needs ’em!” Tara smiled, but inside, she knew she and Julia were both thinking,
I do.
“Ben called me in Minneapolis. Said he wanted to make sure I was all right.”

“That was sweet.”

“It was fine. But why couldn’t he say, ‘Tara, I miss you. I need you. I hate it that you’re away.’ ” She spoke low and earnestly, role-playing Ben. “Why can’t he just shout it to the winds? ‘I love Tara Waverly!’ Do you know what that would do for our relationship?”

“I know.”

“Yes, of course you do, because you’re weeks away from marrying Miles and still wondering if you’re really in love with Trevor.”

Julia’s brow furrowed in irritation, then softened as she realized the truth of Tara’s statement. She stared into the sea.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I’m just all riled up.”

“It’s okay.”

“We’re gonna have a great time! I packed food for an army, and I know the perfect camping spot.”

They anchored the sailboat on the southwest side of the island and rowed the dinghy, loaded with their supplies, to shore. Bourgeois Island was a tiny land mass, covered mostly by rock and a few stands of trees. “Over here!” Tara called, moving toward a cave near the pebbly beach.

“Isn’t it perfect? Even if it rains, you’re covered. The beach is right there, and a hundred yards to the other side is a natural spring.” Tara set to work laying the fire while Julia went back to the dinghy for another load.

Julia felt as though she was on a Girl Scout camping trip and was glad she had agreed to the outing. The tension with Trevor had gotten worse, and she had suffered from four migraine headaches in the last month. She attributed them to the stress of planning a wedding, but when she honestly questioned herself, she knew the real problem: the unresolved question of the status of her relationships. With Miles. With Trevor.

Julia returned to the fire, arms laden with sleeping bags.

“Doesn’t a swim sound good?” Tara asked as the sun sank low and the sky faded to a deep purple against the mainland.

“A swim? Are you crazy? It’s dark!”

“You
have
to swim at night; the water glistens. Besides, it’s warm this time of year. Come on. We’ll swim and then eat.”

Resigning herself to follow her friend’s lead, Julia walked behind
her, pulling off her Windbreaker and shorts and easing into the surprisingly warm water.

The pebbles slipped under her feet, tickling her, until she was in deep enough to swim. She and Tara dove, somersaulted, and swam for half an hour as the splintered moon rose and flecks of light glistened in the water.

“What makes it sparkle, Tara?” Julia was treading water alongside her friend, twenty feet from shore.

“Phosphorus. When we were kids, we pretended we were swimming with mermaids who spread stardust around us. It was magical.”

“Still is. It feels great, but I’m freezing.”

“Let’s go in.”

They swam to shore, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire, and settled into their sleeping bags by nine o’clock. It felt delicious to be away, to have time to think and reflect and consider her path.

“Tara?” Julia asked sleepily as she watched the glow of the dying embers on the shallow cave’s ceiling.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Julia and Tara awoke to a bright summer morning and bathed in the natural spring, then spent the day doing nothing but read, nap, and lie out in the warm sun. They agreed to spend another night.

“Won’t Trevor worry?” Tara asked.

“Won’t Ben?”

“I say let them worry. I left a message at the boat docks with the
manager about where we were going. If they want to, they can track us down. Radio’s not working, but they can sail on out if it’s so important.”

“Your radio’s out?”

“Yeah. Meant to get it fixed after our trip to Egg Island, but I got busy with the cookbook and all. Don’t worry. We have a good weather report. And I know how to read the sea. We have supplies—we can stay here all week, if need be.”

“Tara, I can’t stay here all week!”

“I said we
could,”
she said with a scowl. “I didn’t say we’d have to.”

But the next morning the weather surprised even Tara. Instead of the sunny warmth that had been forecast when they left Oak Harbor, a fierce wind and a driving rain woke them.

“Uh-oh,” Tara said. “I was stupid. I should’ve gone to the
Sea Maiden
and checked the barometer.”

“It’s probably just a summer squall, right? We can just wait it out.”

“Yeah. Let’s see if it lets up. If it doesn’t, we should make a break for it this afternoon, or we will be stranded for a while.”

They spent the morning laughing and playing cards by the fire, each looking periodically to the cave’s opening to see if the storm was easing.

“Have you heard from them?” Trevor’s voice sounded tight as Ben answered the phone.

“Tracked them to the boat docks. Manager said they were heading to Bourgeois Island yesterday to camp. You know, Tara didn’t even call me to tell me she was back from her tour.”

“Maybe she needed some time to herself. Do you think they’ll head home for it today?”

“Nah. I think Tara’s too smart for that. But it’s s’posed to ease tomorrow morning for a bit, followed by a brand-new storm. She’ll tune in for the forecast.”

“I’d feel better if we radioed them with the news.”

“I don’t think they went out there to be bothered by us.”

“Yeah, well, that’s tough. I kept Julia from drowning once. I don’t want her to die sailing in this storm.”

Ben was silent. Only then did Trevor recognize his blunder. “Oh man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No. That’s okay. I’m worried too. I’ll try to reach them again. They’re probably in the cave.”

Ben hung up and tried the CB radio again. Still no answer. Tara had promised him she would get that radio fixed. There was no way she had gone out again without doing so, was there?

“I think we better wait until tomorrow,” Tara said as she entered the cave again. She wiped raindrops from her face and wrung out her short hair.

“Shoot. I really need to get back.”

Tara looked back outside and then to her friend. “I’m sorry. I wanted to take you away for a break, not mess with your schedule. It might ease up. Let’s wait for a bit.”

The weather did calm eventually. The winds seemed to die down some and the rain stopped, although heavy fog remained on the water. “Let’s go,” Tara said decisively. “We’re only an hour from shore—what could happen?”

Julia’s thoughts went to Sharon DeBois, but she quickly erased it from her mind, trusting Tara’s judgment.

“I don’t like it, Trevor. They’re still not home, and I can’t get through to the
Sea Maiden
’s radio. It seems like this soaker’s letting up, but a sou’easter’s right on its heels. I think they’ll make a break for it.”

“Don’t you think they’ll check on the weather?”

“Tara will—but she’s had trouble with her radio before. She’ll check her barometer, but she might risk it. She’s so gutsy she thinks she can conquer anything. They might get into trouble.”

“You want to go after them?”

“My trawler’s been through worse.”

“They’ll be furious at us for checking up on them.”

“Probably no more miffed than they are already.”

“True. When do we leave?”

“Now.”

The
Sea Maiden
was making good time, but Tara was concerned about the storm she saw gaining on them. They wouldn’t outrun it, no matter how fast they were moving.
Stupid! I was so stupid to leave the island!

At the time they left, the intense fog had hidden the second storm. Its front-runner winds had soon blown away the low clouds, and it was all too clear what they were in for. She glanced at Julia, standing in front of the helm, huddled against the wind and surf’s spray.
Stupid! I’ve not only risked my life, but Julia’s, too!

Julia watched the thick, black, angry clouds behind them as the storm began to break. She could tell from one look at Tara’s face that
they were in serious trouble. A mile away the skies opened up, and a blinding wall of rain sealed off their view of the island. Stronger gusts caught their sails and threatened to capsize them.

“Lean ho!”
Tara yelled, and Julia leaned over the edge to counterbalance the wind in the mainsail.

“We have to get them down!”
Tara yelled over the wind.

Julia went to the rigging and quickly pulled down the jib, but when she got to the mainsail, a knot caught in the lock that held the rope in place. She pulled and pushed and struggled with it but finally shook her head at Tara as the rain pounded down upon them.

Tara was moving toward her with a knife to cut it when another powerful gust of wind caught them. A huge swell lifted the boat at the same time.

The boat veered windward as if in slow motion. Neither woman could stop its momentum, and within seconds, both were in the water.

Tara came up sputtering underneath the turtled boat, caught in an air space.

Julia surfaced beyond the
Sea Maiden
, thankful for her life jacket. She swam as hard as she could toward the capsized boat, but the jacket’s bulk impeded her progress. The wind was just too strong, and the distance between her and the boat became greater and greater.

Mike insisted he be allowed to come along, and Ben knew he couldn’t leave him behind.
He loves Tara almost as much as I do.
The three men hopped aboard the old trawler. Ben was right; the old girl had seen worse storms than this. Her battered walls and peeling paint were testimony to her years of hard work and seaworthiness.

Trevor grabbed Ben’s binoculars and scanned the horizon, but the gray wall of rain sealed off any view he might have had. They were off within minutes.

BOOK: Torchlight
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