“We work with beginners all the time,” Piper said, always trying to be the peacemaker.
“Not out here.” The weather in the Aleutians was unpredictable—fog, wind, quickly shifting currents.
Landon came up behind Piper, snaking his arm around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. “What’s up?”
“Darcy’s never been kayaking,” Gage said.
“I told you,” Piper said, her tone placating, “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Then you’ll be neglecting the rest of your charges, who will be moving at a much faster clip, since they’re more seasoned,” Kayden said, joining the pack. She tilted her head toward the surf. “Everyone’s getting restless.”
Gage followed her gaze to the clients waiting impatiently aboard their crafts. “Be right there.” He waved.
The idea of a longer wait, no matter how brief, settled irritation across most of their brows—especially Heath’s. The guy was going to be trouble—Gage just knew it. And now he had Darcy to worry about too. He turned to Kayden. “Thank you for understanding the predicament this poses.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Landon offered. “I wasn’t even supposed to be on the excursion, so it won’t take anything away from the paying customers if I help Darcy.”
Gage mulled that over, irritated Darcy had put him in this position in the first place, that she was forcing him to make this call—all to protect a cover he wasn’t even convinced was necessary. Being up-front was always the best course of action.
“Gage?” Piper prodded.
He gritted his teeth. “Fine, but you two”—he pointed between Landon and Darcy—“had better keep within a reasonable distance. I don’t want you guys so far back that we’re forced to come after you.”
“Don’t worry.” Darcy linked her arms across her chest, the life jacket hiking up with the motion until it was cresting her stubborn chin. “I won’t hold you up.”
Funny how someone so frustrating could be so adorable. He sighed. “Come here.” He grasped the loose strap of her safety vest, tugging her once again to him. “Let me finish fixing this.”
Everyone else stepped back, refocusing on the excursion ahead. Darcy’s breathing was hurried. Good. He’d flustered her as much as she’d vexed him. Surprisingly, the thought warmed him. He liked that he could get her heart racing, even if it was from frustration rather than his charm. He slid the list clip in place but didn’t slacken his hold. “I’m not trying to be a jerk.”
“Uh-huh.” Her jaw tightened.
“Really, I’m not. You just need to understand that these folks and their safety are my responsibility.”
Her shoulders slackened slightly. “You know I’d never want to cause any trouble for you or your family.”
His eyes locked on hers at the deep sincerity of her words, and his frustration ebbed. “It’s not only their safety I’m concerned about.” That’s what had him so irritated. It was because he knew his attention would be divided today—that Darcy’s safety would consume his thoughts, regardless of who hung back with her.
“Meaning?”
Pleasure tugged at the corner of his mouth. Of course she’d make him say it. He slipped a loose strand of hair behind her ear, momentarily reveling in the silkiness. He held her gaze and, lowering his voice a notch, whispered, “I’m concerned about yours.”
Her blue eyes widened. “You are?”
He nodded, amused and touched at her surprise. More than you know. More than even I understand.
“That’s . . . kind of you,” she spluttered out. “But I’ll be fine.” She stepped from his hold, determination emblazoned on her stiff posture.
He refrained from reminding her what fine stood for. Freaked out. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional. He genuinely hoped she was none of the above, but the weary expression sneaking past her resolute guard left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut. Not what he needed today. Today he needed to be on his game, not worrying about Darcy St. James.
Darcy stepped into the kayak, utterly terrified. Her heart still pitter-pattered from her heated encounter with Gage, from the secure feel of his strong hands on her shoulders, and the intensity echoing in his soulful eyes. Unfortunately, the encounter had done little to calm the nervous energy already pulsating through her.
She was determined to find Abby, but she could not screw up this excursion for Gage and his family. If her actions brought anything negative upon their company, she’d never forgive herself.
The kayak wiggled beneath her, and she quickly dropped to her bottom.
She could do this—could face her fear. She was in a floating vessel with a life preserver. She wouldn’t drown.
Landon waited until everyone else had cleared out before instructing Darcy to push off. Push off into water. Her hands clammy, she gripped the metal cylinder of the paddle with her left hand and clutched the plastic hand plate with her right. Ignoring the world spinning at dizzying speed around her, she bore down, digging the paddle into the wet sand below, pushing off from shore.
Noise warbled in her ears as the current quickly grabbed her in its greedy clutches, tearing her away from shore and yanking her out to sea.
She blinked, trying to focus on the shore of the island in front of her. Panic clawed at her chest—tightening, suffocating until she couldn’t breathe.
Flashes of tumultuous waves and the unyielding grasp of the ocean’s pull flooded her mind—being dredged and tumbled along the sandy bottom in a whirl. The relentless tug of the sea ripping her away from safety and those she loved.
“Hey.” Landon’s hand clamped hard on her shoulder. “You okay?”
She stared at his worried expression, blinking back to reality, to the moment. She wasn’t on the ocean floor having the breath pummeled from her lungs, wasn’t having her best friend ripped from her life, from this world. That was the past. This was now. She had a chance to save another friend, and she wouldn’t let go. Not this time.
“Darcy.”
She looked up at Landon, at his kayak butted next to hers. “Sorry. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
She sheltered her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Really, I’m okay.” A cool breeze wafted over her perspiration-drenched skin. “I’ll be okay.”
Landon assessed her. “Are you scared . . . of water?”
She wasn’t scared of water; she was terrified of drowning in it. “I can do this.” She had to.
“You sure?”
She tightened her hold on the paddle to the point her fingers burned. “Positive. Now we better get going before we fall too far behind. I don’t want another lecture from Gage.”
Landon exhaled. “All right. If you’re sure you’re okay.”
“Positive.” It was a bold-faced lie, but what choice did she have?
“Slow, easy strokes—like this.” He demonstrated.
That looked easy enough. Don’t think about where you are. Just focus on the motion. She prayed for God’s protection, for His strength. There was no way she could do this without Him.
Following Landon’s lead, she mimicked his movements—her paddle cutting through the blue-green water in sure, even strokes.
“You got it.” Landon smiled. “Now, let’s catch up. I’ll lead the way. Let me know if you need anything.”
She nodded, terrified to look anywhere but straight ahead. She had no idea how far away the rest of the team was. She simply kept her gaze fixed on Landon’s back and the horizon in front of her.
Don’t look down. Just keep paddling.
The waves crashed against her kayak as they headed toward Kesuk’s northern shore. She prayed the waves would settle, but the myriad of whitecaps dotting the expanse ahead dispelled her hope. The rocking didn’t bother her, but the water sloshing up over the kayak was a constant reminder of where she was, and of what was surrounding her.
She fought another wave of dizziness, taking deep breaths through her nose and wiggling her toes as her dad
had instructed in times past, though he’d never managed to actually get her back in the water. It was strange how such simple motions could distract her brain from the reality surrounding her, even if only momentarily—but even a moment’s reprieve from the panic threatening to overtake her was better than nothing.
Please, Father, carry me through this.
A verse she’d memorized from Psalm 93 filtered through her mind.
“‘Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea—the Lord on high is mighty.’”
You are greater than the danger surrounding me.
She paddled on.
12
Darcy had never been so thankful to be on solid land. Her legs were wobbly, unsure beneath her as she took her first steps onto the hard-packed sand of Kesuk’s southern shore. The pent-up anxiety she’d wrestled all day as they paddled along the island’s northern and western shores now left her body in a burning adrenaline rush. She fought the urge to lay prostrate on the shore and kiss the ground. She’d made it. God had carried her through.
“What a rush!” Clint smiled beside her.
“That’s one word for it,” she mumbled.
“You did good,” Landon said, setting his pack in the pile forming beside the unlit fire pit.
“We’ve still got a lot of work to do,” George said, greeting Ted. “I’ve started setting up camp in a half circle with our backs to the hills.”
Ted nodded and moved to assist.
“I’ve got Phillip’s supplies set by the cooking pit,” George said. “Hopefully he’ll start soon. Looks like the passengers are hungry.”
“Starving,” Heath chimed in.
“Passengers aren’t the only ones.” Gage rubbed his stomach. His damp shirt clung to his midsection, hugging his well-defined abdomen. Heat rushed Darcy’s cheeks.
“I’ll get the cooking fire started for him,” Jake offered.
“Piper and I will get the staff tents up.” Kayden pulled the tent roll from the base of her pack.
“Unless you need me, Gage, I’ll help the girls,” Landon said, inclining his head in the sisters’ direction.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” Gage shifted his attention to Darcy. “You good?”
“Fine.” She was just thankful to be on land.
His gaze bore into her—so much emotion dwelling there.
“I . . . better get started interviewing the participants about their first day out.”
“Right.”
Gage approached Darcy at the picnic table while everyone else was otherwise occupied, settling into the tents George and Ted had so masterfully erected. Though tents hardly seemed the appropriate word. What they had set up looked more like the luxury safari tents of the early 1900s, bordering far too close to what many referred to nowadays as glamping for Gage’s tastes. The only difference between true glamping, as Piper explained it, and what stood erected around him was the lack of actual furniture. Each passenger had an inflated air mattress on a raised frame, upon which high-loft goose-down sleeping bags were spread. A small battery-lit lantern hung from the overarching beam, bathing the faux-linen tents in soft light. He had to admit the overall effect was quite nice—like fireflies dancing in the coming dusk of twilight. The sun wouldn’t be fully setting for a bit, but the pink already streaking across the Alaskan sky indicated it was going to be a gorgeous one.
He sank down beside Darcy on the picnic bench. Somehow Chef Phillip had enlisted her to help with dinner, putting her to work on the potato skins—which she’d clearly never made before, though watching her attempts to cook them over the fire had proved highly entertaining. “How’d your interviews go?”
“Fine until I got to Phillip.” She poked at the limp skins arranged on the platter before her.
He fought back a chuckle. “How’d he wrangle you into helping?”
“I’m not really sure. One minute I was talking to him about Abby, asking if he’d ever worked with her, how he felt about her leaving and his taking over her job, and the next thing I knew, he’d put me to boiling potatoes over the campfire.”
The distinct smell of smoke clung to her fleece jacket—he leaned in—and to her silky blond hair.
“Hope I’m not interrupting.”
They turned to find Clint standing behind them.
“Not at all.” She sat back from Gage. “Please, join us.”
“Just wanted to sample one of those amazing-looking potato skins. May I?”
“Of course.” She smiled.
Clint reached in between them and grabbed one.
She stiffened as he popped it in his mouth.
He swallowed. “Delicious.”
“Really?” Relief filled her face. “Thanks.”
“No. Thank you.” His appreciative gaze lingered on Darcy far too long for Gage’s liking. “Hope all your interviews went well.”
“Yep. Everyone’s really enjoyed the excursion so far.”
“That’s great.” He shifted his weight, resting his boot on the bench between them and leaning in slightly toward Darcy. “And did you enjoy it?”
She nodded.
“I’m glad to hear it. There’s nothing like the wind in your hair, the sea air on your face.” He smiled. “Such a beautiful face.”
“Thanks.”
Gage leaned around Clint, fixing his displeased gaze on Darcy.
Clint straightened. “Guess I should let the restless natives know dinner’s about ready.”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long now,” she said. “I think Phillip is just about done with the steak.”
“Great.” Clint popped another potato skin in his mouth, then turned and headed back toward the campers.
Gage cocked his head. “What was that?”
“What was what?” She fidgeted with the arrangement of the potato skins.
He jutted his chin toward Clint’s retreating back. “The two of you all flirty.”
“We weren’t flirting.”
He arched a brow.
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was simply trying to establish a connection with him.”
“I’d say connection established.” He linked his arms across his chest. Why was he getting so worked up?
“It’s vital I make connections with as many crew members as possible. I don’t know which of them may be of use to me in finding Abby.”
“So you’re using them?” Why was he getting combative? And why did he feel so territorial all of a sudden? Maybe it was simply that Clint rubbed him wrong, or maybe it was the way she’d just led Clint on that bugged him so.
“I’m just getting to know the people Abby worked with leading up to her disappearance.”
“In case they can be of use to you?” Isn’t that what she’d just said—they’d be of use to her? Was he simply of use to her too?
“I’m not using them.” She fanned the stack of napkins out beside the tower of plastic plates. “I’m just getting to know the people that knew Abby.”
“So, let me get this straight. You form a false attachment with Clint, for example”—though it could just as easily be him—“in case he can be of use to you in finding Abby?”
“Yes . . . but it’s not how you’re making it sound.”
“How am I making it sound?” He was only repeating what she’d said, though he recognized he was making the situation far too personal.
“Wrong and manipulative.”
“Just call it like I see it.” He shrugged. “But that’s me. I prefer to be up-front.”
“I’m doing what I need to do to find my friend.”
“By using other people.” Just as his ex, Meredith, had. He was falling for another woman who led people on and lied. What was wrong with him?
While Meredith’s and Darcy’s professions weren’t the same—lawyer and reporter—the means they used were far too similar for his tastes. It showed the heart of their character. While in Yancey this winter,
Darcy had tried so hard to convince him she was different, that she wasn’t the type of reporter who lied and manipulated to get ahead, and about the time she’d left for California, he’d actually started to believe she was different.
Now . . . he feared the truth was showing through. Darcy might be kinder than Meredith, she might even have great intentions for her actions, but the end result was the same—she did what she needed to do to get what she wanted.
It wasn’t like he didn’t understand. He’d been there—wanting to do everything possible to protect a loved one, to prove his brother’s innocence, but he’d never lost sight of who he was and of what mattered.
“You think I should simply walk away?” she asked at his silence—her tone less assured than it had been moments before.
“No, but I still believe there’s a straightforward way to go about it.”
“You don’t understand. People lie. They cover their tracks.”
“So, what . . . you have to lie to catch them?” That was convenient.
“That’s not what I said!”
Kayden cleared her throat.
They both turned.
Kayden tilted her head in the direction of the group. “You’re starting to draw an audience.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “Could you hear what we were discussing?”
“No, but your voices were rising. A few more seconds and . . .”
“We don’t have to worry about that.” She pinned a glare on Gage. “This conversation is over.”
It wasn’t the only thing that was over. He had to keep his distance. Darcy had worked her way into his heart, and he had to do whatever it took to work her out again. Even if it meant being combative, blowing things out of proportion, making it personal. Because the truth was, if he didn’t stop his deepening feelings for Darcy, it would become intensely personal, and he couldn’t go back there.
13
Darcy sat on the open spot on the log beside Piper, her dinner plate in hand, her ire fully riled. She watched Gage across the flames laughing with one of the passengers—the single, female passenger. Frustration boiled inside. Not at his conversation with the beautiful lady, though she wasn’t thrilled with the way Whitney smiled at Gage. She was frustrated by a pricked conscience.