Authors: Rachelle McCalla
“And that would work? Even though Mitch was killed while Scott and Marilyn were still alive?”
“They figured they had an airtight case, but Sal still wasn’t too happy about Trevor getting rid of Mitch so soon. I figure that’s why he—” Tim’s voice gave out and he looked down.
Abby still had hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Tim.”
“I am, too.” Tim nodded. “I’m sorry all this had to happen to you and Marilyn and Scott.”
At the mention of Scott’s name, Abby felt a bittersweet pain in her heart. She tried to remind herself that Scott had never been a part of her life, so she had no business missing him now. She had no right to feel heartbroken at the thought of him. But knowing that didn’t change the way she felt. “It’s okay. God was watching over us.”
“You’re right,” Tim agreed, hope bringing a warm glow to his face. “I think God put you on that boat with Marilyn and Scott so you could save their lives.”
Abby blushed. “I—I don’t know that I really
saved
them.”
“I believe you did,” Tracie noted. “And Scott saved your life, too, you know. He pulled you out of the water and insisted we fly you straight here. He’d probably be here right now if he didn’t feel his proper place is with his mother.”
Abby shook her head. “Scott and I aren’t really a couple,” she rushed to explain. “We hardly knew each
other before this weekend. We probably won’t see each other anymore after this.”
But Tracie just grinned that much more broadly. “That’s not what he told me.”
Abby was alone again the next morning as she packed her things in preparation for her dismissal from the hospital. She didn’t have much, just some flowers and candy her folks had brought, along with a change of clothes. Her parents and sister would be returning from their hotel within the hour to drive her home. With a sigh, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and looked at the screen.
She had plenty of signal and power remaining. It seemed strange that so much could happen within the time frame of a single cell phone charge. She absently scrolled down through her saved numbers, stopping when she came to Scott’s.
Should she call him? She wanted to. She missed him already, and wished they could talk, if only to sort out the events of the weekend and find some closure from it all.
Abby flipped her phone shut and placed it back in her purse. She’d call Scott, but not right now. Later, when she had more time to talk.
A rap at the door caught her attention, and she looked up, expecting to see one of the nurses, or possibly her folks. Instead, Scott’s strong frame filled the doorway, an uncertain smile on his lips.
“Scott.” Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears, and she wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms, but instead she held back. After all, she hadn’t heard from him in over a day. He apparently hadn’t been too eager to see her.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” He stepped into the room. “I had to talk to the authorities, and take care of our cars, and explain to my mother about Mitch.”
“Uh-huh.” Abby nodded dumbly. She’d almost forgotten about crashing her car, with everything else that had been happening.
Scott continued. “And you wouldn’t believe how many jewelry stores I had to visit to find what I was looking for.”
Abby watched him cross the room toward her. She couldn’t fathom what jewelry stores had to do with anything. After all the trouble the diamonds had caused, she didn’t care to ever see another one. “How many?” she asked, watching with curiosity as a smile toyed across his lips.
“Seven,” he announced, pulling a small box from his pocket. “Practically every jewelry store in the Duluth-Superior metro area, I believe.”
Though she still wasn’t sure what he was getting at, Abby couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from turning up in response to his smile. “What were you looking for?” she prompted him.
“A sapphire ring,” he explained. “But not just any sapphire. It had to have tiny flecks of gold dancing in the field of blue. And the blue had to be just the right color.” Scott opened the jewelry box and held it up to her. His smile broadened. “Good. I got it right.”
Abby’s mouth fell open. “Just the right color?” she repeated dumbly.
“To match your eyes,” Scott explained. “That
is
what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”
Nodding eagerly, Abby sniffed back the sudden tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “But I thought—” she started.
“Thought what?” he asked. “Thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life alone? Maybe I used to think that, but not anymore. When I saw you floating facedown in the water, I felt fear like I’ve never felt before. Do you recall what I said yesterday, about how I was reluctant to care too much for someone, because the people I cared about almost always died?”
“Yes.” Abby remembered him telling her about his father’s and grandparents’ deaths.
“I’ve pushed away everyone but God, trying to insulate myself from caring too much for other people, trying to keep that kind of hurt from ever reaching me again. I even pushed away my mother—I’m afraid that may have contributed to her turning to Mitch for emotional support.” He shook his head regretfully. “I tried to push you away, too, but that didn’t change anything, because I still felt as though I’d had my heart ripped from my chest when I saw you floating there.”
Abby squeezed her eyes shut, somehow knowing how he felt, feeling the same pain at the thought of never seeing him again.
“I need you in my life, Abby. Pushing you away only makes it hurt worse, not less.” Scott got down on one knee. “Abby, I know you said you hadn’t met the right man yet, but I believe I’ve met the woman for me. You’re the one. I let you slip through my fingers nine years ago. I won’t make the same mistake again. Please, Abby, would you reconsider?”
Abby’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Scott.” She cupped his face with one hand. “I didn’t mean you weren’t the man for me. I was trying to say I hadn’t met the right man at the right time, but then we got interrupted. I never meant to make you think I didn’t love you.”
A relieved smile broke over Scott’s face. “So you love me then? You’d consider marrying me?”
His words seemed almost too good for Abby to believe. “But how would that work? You live in the Twin Cities, and I live in Bayfield.”
“You know, after all she’s been through, I think I need to move closer to my mother.”
Abby looked at him quizzically.
“But not too close,” Scott noted. “I was thinking of maybe moving to Bayfield.”
“Ooh, that’s awfully remote,” Abby chided him. “And I don’t really feel safe there after everything that happened. I was thinking of moving farther south myself.”
“Really?” Scott smiled. “Perhaps we could settle on someplace close together.”
“Perhaps.” Abby looked back down at the ring in his hands. The color of the stone was remarkably similar to her eye color. Scott had clearly been paying very close attention.
“Well, then, I guess there’s only one question left.” Scott pulled the ring from the box. “Abby Caldwell, will you marry me?”
“I’d love to.”
Scott stood and slid the ring onto her finger. Then he wrapped his arms around her and finally gave her the kiss she’d been longing for.
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved survival stories. So when I moved to the remote village of Bayfield, Wisconsin, my imagination was quickly captured by the Apostle Islands, whose isolated wilderness seemed almost uninhabitable. After researching the islands, I started to write a story about a girl who was marooned on Devil’s Island and left to die. Long before I finished my story, life intervened, and my half-finished manuscript was pushed aside. But I never stopped wondering how the story would end.
It has been a blessing to finally find the happy ending I always wanted the story to have. Scott and Abby have found their happy ending, but Devil’s Island holds many secrets, and more stories to come. Visit my Web site at www.rachellemccalla.com for more information about upcoming books!
May all God’s blessings go with you!
Rachelle McCalla
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4873-5
SURVIVAL INSTINCT
Copyright © 2010 by Rachelle McCalla
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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