Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) (11 page)

A sudden memory shot though my mind—a sixteen-year-old David approaching me that day in the cafeteria after Margo had made some cutting remark about me sitting alone. He appeared at my table like some kind of savior. “Anyone sitting here?” he asked, voice casual, like it was no big deal at all. I shook my head quickly and he shot me a quick, easy grin before sitting down.

Knight in Shining Armor, indeed.

“What’s going on?” he asked now, voice soft.

“I’m afraid of the water,” I whispered. His eyes widened a little, and I suddenly realized what I had said. I had never said those words out loud, not to anyone. Not even my parents. Not even Posey, though I had a feeling she had a pretty good idea how I felt.

“You’re afraid of the water?” His words weren’t mocking or judgmental. He just seemed surprised. When I didn’t respond, he looked out at the bay, rubbing the back of his neck. When his eyes met mine again, he was blinking rapidly. For a minute, I thought he might laugh at me, but he merely cleared his throat. “Um, Iris. You’re kind of surrounded by water here. Maybe moving to an island wasn’t the best idea.”

I was laughing before I could even feel annoyed by his teasing. It did sound kind of ridiculous when he put it like that. I was staying in a place that could only be accessed by boat, for crying out loud. Not the best idea was putting it mildly.

For a long moment, David just watched me laugh. His eyes were still doing that flashing thing. Then his lips twitched before twisting upward entirely. A low chuckle emerged from his throat, then another.

David was laughing. I had started to think he had lost the ability in the years I’d been away from the island. I’d gotten a glimpse of it the other day when he was talking about the Libbies, but this was heartier. He looked different when he was laughing—the tight lines of his face melted away, his jaw no longer tense. His eyes looked even lighter, too, that pale blue instead of grey.

“You look good when you’re happy,” I blurted without thinking.

The laughing immediately stopped, and I stifled a groan. Great. We were going to go right back to the grumpy status quo. To my immense relief, David merely shrugged. “Guess I should try it more often then, huh?” he asked. Before I could even nod, he turned away and looked back down the shoreline toward the ferry.

“You’ve been to the island dozens of times,” he said. “You
lived
here. Is the water thing new?”

“No. It’s always freaked me out.” I shrugged. He just watched me in silence, waiting for me to elaborate. “It’s not so bad just to look at it,” I explained. “It’s really only when I’m over it. On the dock or on a boat or something.” I shuddered involuntarily, and his eyebrows came down.

“The ferry?”

I shrugged. “If I can sit in the middle, it’s not too bad.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I wanted to keep some of my dignity. “Seeing the waves is what usually makes me panic.”

“Hmm.” He was rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. “Can you swim?”

I laughed. Like I could have managed to get in the water without freaking long enough to learn. “Nope.”

He was still rubbing his chin like he was trying to decide on something. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking. What he was thinking about me—did he think I was stupid? Childish? Was he maybe remembering that last fight before I left, when I had refused to join him and his friends on their boat trip and they called me a snob…

Before I could say a word, he turned back to me. “Iris, do you trust me?”

“I… um…” I was staring up into his eyes, intense and focused on mine. He was holding my gaze firmly, and it almost felt like… like his eyes were trying to say something to me. To calm me. It was weird, the way I could read them. And even weirder still that it worked.

“Yes,” I said quickly. “I do.”

His lips twitched once more, nearly a smile, but then he was taking my hand and leading me down the road to the marina, and I could no longer see his face. The feeling of calm remained, however. The fear had faded to a dull roar in my ears as I followed David. He was solid in front of me, his shoulders broad enough to block most of my view of the water. As long as I concentrated on him, one step in front of me, leading me along, I didn’t feel scared at all.

“
A
nd this is the anchor
,” David said, slapping the metal edge. “This goes down one hundred feet, so it’s great for fishing all around the island.”

I shivered at the thought of one hundred feet of water under this boat. David’s eyes were sharp on my face, and he smiled gently. “Don’t worry. We aren’t putting down anchor anywhere near that deep.”

I nodded, trying to dispel the queasy feeling in my stomach. The little speedboat was bobbing up and down, and though we were still tied to the dock, I desperately missed the comfort of solid ground beneath my feet.

“Okay, what else,” David said, looking around the boat. He had already shown me the hull, the lifejacket storage, the engine, the backup oars, and the steering column. “The first step to feeling comfortable is knowing what you’re dealing with,” he had told me as he helped me off the dock into the boat, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes that felt like an eternity. “You need to understand the machine that you’re putting your trust in.”

I wasn’t sure if I understood the machine much, even after his explanations, but I was breathing a lot more normally than I had been when we made our way down the dock.

“Ah,” he said now, his face lighting up. “The sonar. Look at this.”

I followed him back to the little display screen next to the steering wheel. “This shows me all the rocks and reefs that might be in my way. I can search manually to plot my course, but it also has a built-in warning system in case I get too close. It’s a good piece of technology.” He looked out over the water. “But when it comes to this island, I don’t really need it. I know these waters like the back of my hand.”

“But you turn it on, anyway, right?” I asked, hearing the squeaky note of fear in my voice.

David smiled. “Always. I’m a very cautious boater, Iris.”

I nodded, trying to breathe through my nose the way he had instructed when my breath was coming in short gasps. “Oh, one more thing.” He pointed to an antenna mounted to the metalwork above our heads. “GPS system.”

“So you don’t get lost and end up in Wisconsin?”

He grinned. “Yup. And so the coast guard can find me if I run into a problem.” He patted a metal box under the captain’s seat. “And a sat phone.”

I couldn’t help but feel impressed. Neither my grandpa’s nor Uncle Franks’ boat had half as many safety features. “You take this seriously.”

He nodded, all laughter gone from his face. “Very seriously. You’re right to respect the water, Iris. Respect for nature keeps us on our toes so we don’t make stupid mistakes.”

I swallowed. “Do you make stupid mistakes?”

He grinned. “Rarely. And never on the lake.”

I nodded, curling my fingers into the fabric of the back of the passenger chair. “So,” he said, crossing his arms. “Now you’ve seen my boat and you should have some idea of what kind of captain I would be. If you want, we can take the ferry. But I think you’ll feel better on
Love Spell
here.”

“
Love Spell
?” I asked, eyebrows shooting up.

He grinned sheepishly. “I was twenty-four and feeling romantic.”

I laughed. “It’s nice.”

“
She’s
nice,” he corrected. He patted the steering wheel. “Boats are always a she, and this one is my baby. She’ll get you safely to shore, Iris.”

I took a deep breath, looking around the harbor. I didn’t feel quite as scared as I had earlier. In fact, I was kind of enjoying myself. And he was right—he had shown me what kind of captain he would be. Serious, conscientious, and safety minded. Back on the road, I had told him that I trusted him. I still did. Even more so now.

“I think I’ll try
Love Spell
.”

He actually beamed at me. He almost looked proud. “Excellent choice. You won’t be sorry.”

I perched on the edge of the chair, hoping he was right, watching as he moved to untie the ropes. He only worked for a few seconds before he turned to me, familiar scowl back on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What?”

He pointed at me. “Nobody just sits on
Love Spell
when there’s work to be done. Get off your ass, lazybones.”

“Well, excuse me, Mr. Nautical Drill Sergeant. What do you want me to do?”

“Grab the lines off the port side. Make sure you pull them up into the boat, don’t let them fall.”

I looked helplessly from one side of the boat to the other. “Uh, port?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh God. You’re such a newb.”

“Hey!” I cried, but I was laughing. “You’re going to be an ass to the girl with the water phobia?”

He pulled in the line he was working on and crossed over to me in two long strides. He was standing close, maybe a bit too close, his tall body once again blocking my view of anything but him. He ducked his head a little, eyes meeting mine, and I felt my heart rate speed up. “You’re not the girl with the water phobia, Iris. You’re the girl who’s facing her fears.”

I felt something warm shift through my chest at those words.

“Now.” Then his hands were on my shoulders, and my heart seemed to stop entirely. God, his hands were big. And strong. He turned me slightly, and I was suddenly inundated with images of what he could do with those hands if he—

“This is port,” he was saying, and I shook my head to clear the completely embarrassing thoughts. I guess I hadn’t grown up very much since high school, if all it took for him to have this effect on me was a simple touch.

“There’s an easy way to remember,” he said, and I forced my eyes from their resting place on his lips up to his eyes so I could concentrate. “Port has four letters, just like the word left. So if you’re facing the bow—that’s the front—port will be on your left.”

“Then why don’t they just call it left?”

His lips twitched. “Because that wouldn’t be very nautical-ish, would it?”

“Nautical-ish? Is that even a word?”

“It is on my boat.”

His eyes flicked down to my mouth, and I realized I was leaning into him. He released my shoulders, taking a quick step back, and tripped over the rope he had just dropped, only managing to steady himself by grabbing the steering wheel.

I wanted to tease him about making mistakes on the water, but I was too embarrassed by my reaction to him. He could obviously tell what was going through my mind—he couldn’t have moved away more quickly if he had jumped.

“So,” he said, his voice sounding strangely gruff. “Lines on the port side, okay?”

“Okay.” I bent over the first rope, grateful for the excuse to hide my blushing face. This was just like me, to get so completely carried away based on practically nothing. A little touch, a bit of teasing, and I was swooning like a teenager.
Get it together, Iris.

With both of us working, we had the ropes taken care of in short order. I was glad he had given me a task so I didn’t have to think about what was coming. It wasn’t until he started the motor and was maneuvering away from the dock that I felt the nerves return. I held fast to the bench seat in the back, wishing these things came with seatbelts.

“Come sit up here,” he called over the sound of the engine, patting the chair across from him. Walking on the moving boat felt like the most unnatural thing in the world—surely clutching the seat I was in, frozen, until we reached land was the safest option. “Iris,” he called, turning to me. He held out a hand. “Come sit here. You’ll feel better if we’re talking.”

I nodded once and reached out for his hand. He grabbed it, holding tight, while I forced myself the three steps to the chair beside him. “Good job!”

I searched his face for signs that he was being sarcastic, but he seemed genuinely happy at my small steps. “It gets more comfortable moving around on board when you get your sea legs,” he promised, releasing my hand. I thought I caught sight of him rubbing his red knuckles under the steering wheel. I guess I had been squeezing pretty hard.

He steered us away from the dock and through the harbor. I felt overwhelmed by the number of boats tied up around us. It was kind of like sitting on the freeway in traffic. But David steered the boat calmly, apparently unbothered by the obstacles.

“Okay,” he told me, once we were clear of the marina. “I’m going to add some speed, but nothing major.”

“Add some speed?” I yelped, pointing behind me at the marina. “What the hell did you call that?”

He laughed. “I was practically idling.”

There was nothing but open water ahead of us. I gripped the cushion as hard as I could, barely hearing David’s voice. “Don’t worry, Iris. I just need to get away from the marina, then we’ll come right back toward shore, okay?”

I nodded, feeling sick. “Hey,” he said, peeling my hand from the edge of the cushion. “Remember everything you know about the boat, okay? You’re safe.”

I closed my eyes, trying to remember the things he had told me. Running the boat wasn’t much different from driving a car. An engine, an ignition, a steering wheel. There was sonar to keep us from hitting anything. A GPS to keep us from getting lost. An anchor if we needed to stop. Lifejackets in the storage cage, as well as the one I was wearing. And David sitting next to me, completely calm, completely in control. I relaxed my fingers in his hand and opened my eyes.

“There you go,” he said approvingly.

I looked around. We were motoring through the water about fifty yards away from the marina. Now that my panic had receded, I could admit that we were going rather slowly. David was cutting a clear line through the water. Up at the bow, I could hear the water hitting the hull, and here along the side of the boat, it was pushing away from us. As I turned to see the wake we created, the bay seemed calm, the large waves from the day of my arrival absent.

“You’re doing great,” he said, turning the wheel slightly. We were away from the traffic of the marina now, and David seemed to be heading along the shoreline—away from the ferry route. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Isn’t the mainland that way?”

David nodded. “I thought you needed to get comfortable before heading out. Besides, I want to show you something first.”

“David.” I tugged on his hand a little. “I might be facing my fears and everything, but I think in this situation, speed is our friend.”

“Speed?” he asked, face brightening. “You want me to open her up?”

“No!” I yelped, and he laughed.

“Kidding, Iris.”

I pulled my hand from his so I could flick the skin of his wrist. “I just meant that we should get this little trip over with before I start freaking out. I didn’t sign up for sightseeing.”

“What happened to trusting me?” he asked, voice soft. I studied his face for a moment, waiting for him to smile, to tease. He was serious.

“Fine.” I sat back in the seat. “What do you want to show me?”

“Just sit back and relax,” he said, turning the wheel again. I watched the shoreline, which appeared to be getting much closer as he moved parallel to the land. We had moved away from town, and this part of the island was mostly forested. I could make out the individual branches of trees now—we were definitely getting closer.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable nearer to land,” he said, as if reading my mind.

I nodded, watching the trees whiz by.

“That’s good,” he murmured, and I could feel his eyes on my face. “Just watch the shore. Get used to the feel of being on the water without thinking about how big it is.”

I swallowed. I knew that if I turned around, the bay would be stretching out behind us, spilling into endless Lake Michigan beyond. There wasn’t land in that direction for miles and miles, another state entirely.

“Watch the shore, Iris,” he said firmly. I closed my eyes for a moment and then did as he asked.

The island was rocky over here. I didn’t think that I had ever been to this part of Lilac Bay before. Certainly not by boat. The shore was nearly solid green, the steady line of pines and spruces occasionally broken by flashes of silver white birches. Tree-covered hills stretched up behind the coastline, rolling green as far back as I could see.

“It’s really pretty,” I murmured, kind of surprised. My entire life I had heard family members gushing about the beauty of the island, but I had never seen it. To me, the island was something to be endured. From the family vacations to the months living here after the divorce, I had never looked at the land without some kind of resentment coloring my view.

“It is,” David agreed. “We’re coming up to my favorite part.”

He cut back on the power until he was again practically idling, and angled even closer toward the shore. The land rose above us in a rocky cliff, harsh and black against the blue sky. “Wow. I didn’t even know this was here.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

“What does that mean?”

David shrugged, tossing a smile over his shoulder. “I just never saw you as the cliff climbing type.”

Well, he did have a point.

“Here we go,” he said, a grin lighting up his face. A rocky outcrop jutted away from the shore, scraggly pine trees clinging to its edges. As David pulled the boat around the rocks a small inlet came into view, surrounded completely by rocky cliffs and shoals, just barely enough room to maneuver the boat into place. Trees found purchase in little nooks and crannies, but the majority of the landscape was hard and rugged.

“What is this?”

“Doesn’t really have a name,” David said, slowing the boat even more. “My cousin and I always called it Blackbeard’s Cove when we were little. We used to come exploring here.” He shot me a quick grin before turning back to the wheel. “I’m putting the anchor down.”

I was surprised to find that I was glad. There was so much to look at, I couldn’t imagine motoring right past. The boat rumbled slightly as the anchor descended. To my surprise, the motion didn’t really bother me.

“Come here,” David said, standing and leaning over the side of the boat. I felt a rush of fear at his position—it seemed like he could fall so easily. But then he was glancing over his shoulder at me, that same calm expression in his eyes. “Come look.”

I joined him at the side of the boat, barely peeking over the edge, and gasped. “It’s so clear!”