Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

So that explained it—the empty bedroom, the photo on John’s bureau, the unfinished totem pole, and the melancholy nature of the man who’d taken her in. Little by little, Emma was beginning to understand.

“What do you say we get started with your problem?” Vera opened the laptop she’d set on the table and brought up a file. On the screen, Emma saw a list of government agencies, banks, airlines, insurance companies, and credit card companies, all with their contact information.

“Take this.” She passed Emma a yellow pad and a pen. “Write down everything you remember having in your purse—the credit card companies, any part of the numbers you might know, and as much about your driver’s license and passport as you can remember. When you’re ready we’ll start making calls.”

* * *

John picked Emma up at the bottom of the stairs, where he’d let her off two hours earlier. He could tell she was tired, but relief was written all over her face.

“How did it go?” he asked as she buckled herself into the passenger seat.

“Oh, the judge was fantastic! We managed to call the passport office and all four of my credit card companies. They’ll be sending me new cards. It’ll take a couple of weeks. Since I don’t know where I’ll be, Vera—the judge—said they could mail them to her address.” She gave him a hesitant glance. “I guess that argues for my staying here in Ketchikan, at least until the cards arrive.”

“I see.” John had made it clear that he wanted Emma to leave. He had to admit the idea of her staying didn’t sound all that unpleasant, but above all, he needed to keep her safe. “I can always pick up the cards from the judge and fly them to you in Sitka on the next mail run,” he said.

“Thanks, but I’ve made up my mind. I already know I can’t stay in the cabin with you. Vera offered me her spare room until the cards arrive, but I turned her down. I can’t impose on her—or you—any longer. I need my own safe place to stay, and I need a job.”

Good luck with that. But before John could voice the thought, a possibility struck him. “You might try the Gateway Hotel,” he said. “It’s right there on Front Street, across from the docks. Ninety-year-old hotel, rock solid, no elevators, and you need a key to get in at night, so you’d be safe from Boone. There’s a good restaurant right downstairs. They even give you free breakfast. Now that the season’s over, you should be able to negotiate a good discount. They might even give you a job.”

“That’s what Vera suggested, too—and I’m going to need a job, even if it’s just scrubbing and cleaning. I put myself through college waitressing. Maybe they need somebody to fill in. Can we check it out while we’re in town?”

“Sure.” Maybe he’d said too much. It would be cruel to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed if things didn’t work out.

“She also suggested that I check in with the school district about substitute teaching. But for that, I’d need transportation.”

“And you’d be unprotected coming and going. As long as Boone’s on the loose, that might not be such a good idea.”

“Oh, you’re probably right.” She was silent a moment. Then she pulled a folded paper out of the shopping bag that served as her purse. “I almost forgot. We need to go to the driver’s license office. Vera gave me this note, asking them to give me a temporary license. I’ll need some kind of photo ID to apply for a job—and to get on the plane when I leave.”

“No problem. That judge is a useful person to know. In this town, all she has to do is say the word.”

An edge had crept into John’s voice. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the bitterness over Vera Falconi’s decision to bar him from David had never gone away.

“Vera told me about the divorce and your son,” Emma said. “If it’s any comfort, she said that if she’d been on the bench the second time you went to court, she would have ruled in your favor.”

“For whatever that’s worth.”

“If I understand right, David will be eighteen on his next birthday. Won’t he be able to spend time with you then?”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t matter. Marlena’s done a number on him over the years. My son doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Oh, John . . .” With a murmur of dismay, she laid a hand on his shoulder. John fought the urge to shake off the contact. Emma meant well, but he didn’t need her pity. Damn it, he didn’t need anything from her.

Still, her touch triggered a memory—holding her in his arms last night, while she clung to him, seeking his strength and comfort. Even after she slept, he had cradled her for a time, feeling her soft, womanly warmth and breathing in the subtle fragrance of her hair. She’d needed him, and it had felt good to be needed by a woman.

But that was all, John told himself. He was a man, and that brief intimacy had put a few ideas into his head. But it meant nothing. If he had any sense, he would forget the whole episode.

It was a relief to pull up to the county building and let Emma out of the Jeep. “I’ll wait out here,” he said. “You won’t have any trouble finding the right room.”

“I’ll try not to be too long,” she said. “Wish me luck with the long lines.”

“This is Ketchikan. You won’t have to worry about long lines.”

As she hurried into the building, he found a shaded spot near the entrance, parked, and levered back the seat. He’d been awake all night and hadn’t slept much the night before. What he needed right now was a nap.

He was just getting comfortable when the front door of the county building opened and three people came out together. John felt the familiar pain, like acid burning his gut, as Marlena, her husband, Carl, and David came down the walk, laughing and talking. Clearly, they hadn’t seen him where he was parked under an overhanging tree.

Sinking lower in the seat, John willed himself not to look at them. But he couldn’t help noticing the piece of paper David was waving as if it were a trophy. It was his new driver’s license, John realized, a rite of passage for any young man. And his family was sharing in the celebration.