Jordan parked the car at the back of the two-story blue house and carried his luggage up the stairs to the converted apartment on the top floor. He walked to the front of the large, open room and looked out the wide, front window. The view of the beach and outstretched ocean was amazing. The swells were rising, and the waves were building as a slow drizzle of rain began to come down.
Returning to the car, he brought in the groceries and noticed the wind had picked up. The predicted storm was on its way, and he had made it just in time.
For the next two hours the storm’s momentum grew as Jordan sat at the kitchen table and kept his eyes fixed on his laptop. Since no heats were scheduled for that afternoon, he thought it would be a good idea to do as much on the wedding photos as he could before he needed to edit and send off the surfing shots he would be taking over the next few days. The wedding shot he had taken of Kinsey and Paul at sunset with the whale breaching wasn’t as great as he had hoped.
One of the best shots, in his opinion, was when Kinsey was rinsing the sand from her feet and the young boy was watching with fascination. The angle was just right to catch the fading light on her dress and the look on the boy’s face.
Some of the others weren’t as great as he had hoped his new camera would deliver. He began to have some qualms about his zoom lens and wasn’t sure it was going to work the way he had hoped to capture the long-distance shots he needed of the surfers.
Any feelings of being a professional faded. He knew the sort of telescopic lens he should have bought, but he hadn’t spent the huge amount of money on the right lens when he had the chance. Now he was regretting that decision.
As he clicked through the wedding photos, a picture of Sierra appeared on his screen. He paused and studied her face. Everything about her appealed to him—her natural beauty; her clear, blue-gray eyes; her soft expression. And that hair! She was beautiful. He wondered when she had been to Brazil, as Paul had mentioned in his greeting to her in the café. What was she doing there? Where did she live now?
Once again, Jordan regretted a decision he had made. Last night he could have taken a risk to connect with her somehow; yet he had decided not to. He let the thin sliver of opportunity slip, and now it was too late.
Opening another file on his desktop, Jordan pulled up the photo he had taken of her on the beach in the shimmering aqua dress. He looked at the shot for a moment, still not sure how he had captured the angles the way he did. In terms of composition, it was a significant shot. That’s why he would keep it as his screen saver. The photo was worth studying, no matter who the subject was. With a few clicks, Jordan set the mermaid photo as his screen saver.
In an attempt to keep his mind occupied with something other than his regrets, Jordan went to the small refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. He returned to the table with the juice and clicked open the music file on his computer. Music always helped him to stay on task when he had a large project. He selected a playlist he hadn’t listened to for a while, and as soon as the first song started playing, Jordan went back to work, editing Kinsey and Paul’s wedding photos.
The wind had kicked up, and now the palm tree beside the house was scratching its jagged fronds against the side window. Jordan thought he heard someone calling out. He went to the window at the back of the house and noticed that another car was parked next to his rental car. He knew the lower portion of the house had been rented out to someone else that week, but he hadn’t seen anyone come or go from there. He watched the rain pelting the side of the neighbor’s house. The palm trees that formed a dividing line between that house’s driveway and his bent in an unnatural way under the wind’s commanding force. He had never seen a storm like this in Santa Barbara.
From the other side of the upstairs apartment he could hear the stairs rattling.
Man, it’s really starting to shake out there. I hope this old place holds together.
Jordan heard a pounding sound at his side door. At first he thought the wind was doing the knocking, but then he heard a muffled voice calling out what sounded like, “It’s me.” He went to the door and pulled it open.
There, on his doorstep, stood a surprise that took his breath away.
Chapter Fifteen
The warm tropical rain hit the windshield of Sierra’s rental car at an angle. The weary windshield wipers seemed unable to work fast enough to clear the pane so she could see the road. She realized she should have taken the advice that had been given to her forty minutes earlier when she was handed her car rental agreement and a driving map of Oahu.
“Do you know where you’re going?” the rental agent asked her.
“Sunset Beach.” Sierra opened the driving map. “Can you show me the best way to get there?”
The woman marked a red line on the map. “If you want some advice, I’d say you would be better off going to the Moana Shopping Center first and treating yourself to a matinee at the movies.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s going to start raining any minute. You might as well wait it out.”
Sierra thought the woman was kidding. This was Hawaii. The weather had been gorgeous on Maui when she left that morning. A little “liquid sunshine,” as the shuttle driver had called the rain that morning, wasn’t going to slow her down.
Now that she was driving through the storm’s onslaught, Sierra was having second thoughts. She remembered how her interisland flight that morning on the small plane had been bumpy, and the pilot had announced something about the winds. Again, she had only the gentle trade winds in mind when she headed for the North Shore.
The movie back in Honolulu was sounding like a very good idea about now. But it was too late. She was committed. And by her calculations, she was more than halfway there.
She thought about the wedding the day before and how Paul had pulled off wearing a kilt as if he were born to wear one. Actually, with his heritage, he was. The ceremony was beautiful, and Kinsey was a gorgeous bride. She clearly loved Paul, and he gave every evidence that he was crazy about her.
At the point in the ceremony when they held hands and repeated their vows, Sierra watched Paul’s expression. He wore a look of commitment mixed with heady infatuation. It was a look Sierra had hoped he would one day give to her. But that would never be.
She was okay with that. Better than okay. Sierra felt as if she had closed the door to the room in her thoughts where she had tucked many quiet ponderings about what might happen with that relationship. Now she knew. He was in love and married to Kinsey Mackenzie.
Sierra also discovered she could never expect her sister to be anyone other than who she was, and that meant Sierra and Tawni would never be the sort of sisters who sat on the bed and shared their secrets. Somehow Sierra had hoped that might have changed since their growing-up years. But Tawni was as private as ever. Still, it had been good to see her, and very good to have some time with baby Ben.
Sierra remembered how Ben had cried that morning when she gave him her good-bye hug before heading for the door with her luggage. He toddled across the room to her and raised his arms, begging to be picked up. She bent down to give him one more cuddle and a kiss. Then she slid out the door and hurried to make it to the airport shuttle. All the way to the elevator she could hear his wails.
She grinned when she remembered how Ben had wailed when the bagpipes sounded off at the end of the wedding ceremony. He had been settled comfortably in her lap, almost asleep in the warm lull of the repeating of vows and exchanging of rings. Then the bagpipe recessional began, and Ben sat up straight, looked Sierra in the face, and wailed louder than the piper, if that were possible. She slid out the side and took Ben to the pond on the other side of the lobby where he could watch the large, orange koi fish swishing in between the floating lily pads.
When Sierra returned to the reception, Ben was eager to go to his dad. That left Sierra free to mingle. The only person she was interested in chatting with was the photographer, but he was as focused o
n his work then as he had been the previous night when she saw him at the pool talking on the phone.
Sierra didn’t want to get hung up on thinking about Jordan. She didn’t want to get hung up on anything while she was in Hawaii. Her place was back in Brazil.
Or at least that’s what she told herself. If God had different plans for her, He would make that clear, wouldn’t He?
Sierra’s thoughts were distracted by the sight of so many open fields on either side of the road as she drove through the rain. Based on pictures she had seen of Waikiki and Honolulu, she had pictured Oahu as a fully populated island. But the area she was driving through made it clear that hundreds of acres were still being used for agriculture. On the right she passed a sign for a coffee plantation and kept on going, heading for a town called Haleaiwa.
The rain continued to come in at an angle, and out the front windshield she could see the palm trees bowing to the powerful wind that was demanding allegiance. She kept going on the twolane highway and focused her attention on following the directions Mariana had given her to reach their rental house. As Sierra poked her way along, she found the street sign with the word KAIWAHINE and turned left onto the short street that led to the beachfront house matching the address on Mariana’s papers.
Relieved to be done with the drive, Sierra parked beside another small car and felt a sense of accomplishment to have arrived. She waited in the car a few moments before jumping out. The rain was coming down hard. She didn’t have an umbrella, and her hooded sweatshirt was packed in her suitcase in the car’s trunk.
When it seemed the rain was letting up just a little, Sierra used her driving map as a covering for her head and dashed to the house’s side door. She knocked quickly and called out, “Mariana, are you there? It’s me.”
No one came to the door. Sierra tried to peer inside through the slatted shades, but she couldn’t see anything. She knocked again and called out more loudly over the sound of the wind.
Knocking a third time and calling out without a response, Sierra shook her bare arms and sent a slide of raindrops scattering off her soaked skin. In desperation, she tried the doorknob. It was locked. She ran around to the oceanfront side of the house in hopes of finding another door. She had no success but became even more drenched.
She noticed that the house had an outdoor staircase on the far side that led to the top floor. With nothing to lose at that point, she dashed up the rickety stairs to the second floor as the wind twisted her hair every which way and filled her loose-fitting top, causing it to billow out in the front while at the same time sticking to her back. The rain doused her with another attack as the stairs beneath her feet gave an agonizing moan. She felt them sway and grabbed the splintered handrail for support.
At that moment, Sierra knew that a tropical storm wasn’t something to be taken lightly. She wished she had stayed back in Honolulu by the airport until this severe winter system had moved through.
Her drenched hair was plastered against the right side of her face. Her shorts and top were dripping wet. The soaked driving map she had used as her only covering was ripped from her hands and carried off by the frenzied wind.
The door opened, and Sierra let out a gasp. She was caught offguard and so buffeted by the ferocious wind that she stumbled back against the unsteady railing.
The handsome face that greeted her reflected equal astonishment as her name rolled off his lips. “Sierra?”
She staggered, but the quick, open arms of the upstairs occupant reached out to take her as if she already belonged to him.
Chapter Sixteen
The name that had been on Jordan’s mind for the past hour sprang from his lips as he opened the door. “Sierra?”
She was soaking wet and looked just as startled as he was. Sierra toppled backward against the railing, and Jordan lunged forward to grab her. His arms were around her in an instant. He could feel how rain-soaked she was.
“Are you okay?” His mouth was against the side of her drenched hair.
She pulled back and stared at him as if she couldn’t speak.
“Come in.” Jordan kicked the door back open with his foot while still keeping a protective arm around her shoulder. “Come on. It’s treacherous out here.” He closed the door, locked it, and looked at her again to make sure he hadn’t dreamed this up.
Gathering his wits as quickly as he could, he pulled his arm back. “Let me find you a towel. Wait there. Don’t go anywhere.” He laughed a nervous laugh on his way to the hall closet and added, “Not that you would want to go back out there. They’re saying this is going to be quite a storm.”
“So I heard.” Sierra’s voice seemed to tremble.
Jordan pulled a clean towel from the closet and hurried back to hand it to her. She put the towel to her face, and he realized he had given her a hand towel. “Wait, I’ll get you a bath towel.”
He returned with a larger towel and felt his heart still racing. “What else can I get for you? Do you want some dry clothes? A shirt or something?”
Sierra looked down and seemed too befuddled to know how to reply. She patted down her bare legs and looked up at him. “How did you know my name?”
“Your name?”
“You said my name when you opened the door.” “Paul told me who you were.”
Her expression softened. She pulled her wild tangle of hair over her shoulder and patted it dry with the towel.
“I’m Jordan, by the way. Jordan Bryce.” He extended his hand instinctively, as if just remembering all the manners his mama had taught him.
“Sierra Jensen. Nice to meet you.” She slipped her small hand into his and smiled cordially.
The feel of her hand in his gave him a shiver up the back of his neck. She pulled her hand back too soon in Jordan’s estimation and looked down at the tile floor where they were standing.
“Do you need another towel? I’ll find you another one.” He hurried back to the hall closet and pulled out a bright orange and yellow beach towel, feeling like an idiot for not grabbing this one first. She had progressed from a hand towel to a bath towel and now a beach towel when this was what she needed all along.
“So what are you doing here?” Jordan blurted out.
Sierra stood on the bath towel and wrapped the beach towel around her shoulders. With a tilt of her head she said, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m staying here. I’m on assignment. For a surfing magazine. And you?”
Sierra brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m staying downstairs with a friend of mine. I mean, I think this is the place she rented. The address matches the information she gave me. I just got here, but she’s not downstairs. At least she didn’t open the door when I knocked.”
“I haven’t heard anyone down there since I arrived a few hours ago. I didn’t see any cars either. Do you want to wait here until she comes back?”
Sierra looked out the wide front window at the furious storm now raging at full force.
“I think maybe I better. I checked the door downstairs, and it was locked. I guess I could get some dry clothes from the car and wait up here until she comes back.”
“Let me retrieve your suitcase for you. Is the car locked?” Jordan still couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You’ll be drenched. It’s okay. I can get it.”
“No, you’re almost dried off now. Let me bring it to you. I have to make sure the windows are rolled up on my car anyhow.” He was pretty sure his windows were closed, but it was the best excuse that came to him at the moment.
She hesitated before agreeing and handing over the car keys from the pocket in her shorts. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Jordan reached for his keys on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”
He headed toward the door, and just before he opened it, he turned to look over his shoulder to make sure she was really there. She was.
Jordan paused long enough to gi
ve her a grin.
She grinned back.
Bustling down the stairs, Jordan barely felt the onslaught of the driving rain. All he could think about was that she was there on Oahu, standing in his apartment.
Okay, God, I get it. I’m supposed to pay attention to this one. So, what happens next?
I can’t believe this is happening.
Sierra stood with a beach towel around her shoulders and her feet on a bath towel in the middle of Jordan’s apartment. She was still dripping and shivering slightly in the wake of the ceiling fan, waiting for him to return with her suitcase. Her heart pounded, and her hands were quivering.
This is crazy! It’s too much of a coincidence. Somebody had to have set this up.
Sierra thought about how Katie, one of her friends from Rancho Corona, would have called this a “God thing.”
Just then she noticed the song that was playing on the laptop across the room was a favorite of hers and one she hadn’t heard since leaving the US. Sierra glanced at the laptop and then looked again. She went closer for a better look.
The picture on Jordan’s laptop screensaver was of her.
Why does he have a picture of me on his laptop?
Although, she reasoned that it wasn’t exactly of her. It was of the beach, the outrigger canoe, and the water. It just happened that the back of her head was in the shot. The picture was beautiful, with the evening light coming through her long hair, giving it an airiness that created an unreal celestial glow.
She chose to believe that Jordan didn’t know she was the woman in the photo but that he had pulled it up as a favorite for the lighting and composition.