Refuge Cove (New Americana 2)

Emma looked into his stormy eyes. This wasn’t about David, she realized. It was about trust—a trust she’d betrayed by holding back the truth. And everything about John—his gaze, his voice, his posture—told her she’d made a serious mistake. And no amount of apologizing would undo it.

“So why did you come?” she asked.

He took a deep breath, as if silently counting to ten. “I came to tell you that I won’t be around for the next couple of days. Tomorrow I’ll be driving to the trailer site to look around for any evidence that might build a case against Boone. Then the next day I’ll be flying the mail route.”

“Will you let me know when you’re back?”

“I guess so. But we could both use a break for a couple of days. I’ll let you know if I find anything at the trailer. Meanwhile, don’t take any stupid chances.”

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

He left without another word, striding toward the Jeep, climbing in, and driving away without a backward glance.

Heartsick, Emma stood looking after him. Was this their first lover’s quarrel, or was it the beginning of the end? She would never have set up a meeting between John and David. But it was almost as if she had. And John, proud man that he was, would not be quick to forgive her.

In his most private heart of hearts, John carried a wound that would never heal. That wound was the loss of his son.

Today had taught her a bitter lesson. John might care for her. He might even come to love her. But that wound in his heart went deeper than even she could ever reach.

* * *

By the time John finished changing the Beaver’s oil and refilling the fuel tank, the sun was going down. Restless now, and needing to move, he secured the plane, slipped on a fleece jacket against the chilling breeze, and set off up the deserted shore.

The incoming tide lapped at his boots as he strode along the rocky beach. A lone bald eagle soared against the glowing sky. Pausing, John watched its flight until it vanished beyond the trees. As a young boy, he’d wished for wings like a bird so he could fly away from the ugly realities of an incarcerated father and an alcoholic mother. Now he had those wings, and he felt more at home in the air than on the ground. In the air there was no anger, no ugliness, just him, the plane and the sky.

He’d been harder on Emma than she deserved. She should have warned him that she was working with David, but she’d been told not to. How could she have known that he would walk into the restaurant and find himself face to face with his son?

That look of alarm in David’s eyes when their gazes met would haunt him for a long time to come. Marlena had done a good job of convincing the boy that his natural father was a drunken, evil monster—and maybe, in part, that’s what he had been. But even in the worst times, he’d never laid a hand on his wife or his son. And even when he was drinking, he’d always worked hard to provide for them.

Ketchikan was a small town. He’d had other chances to confront David, but he’d gone out of his way to avoid the boy. It was that look—the surprise that bordered on terror in those dark eyes so like his own—that struck like a bullet to his heart. He didn’t want to see that look. He didn’t want to lie awake at night, remembering it.

Next spring, David would be eighteen years old and ready to graduate from high school. If Marlena had any say in it, he would go away to college, find a new life far from Ketchikan, and never again set eyes on the man who’d fathered him. The best John could hope for was to be at peace, knowing his son was happy.

And Emma . . . He’d never expected anyone like her to come into his world. Her warmth, her strength and her sweet vulnerability touched him in ways he’d never known before. But how could he expect her to stay and share his life, when he had so little to offer? And a deeper question—how could he keep his fear of losing her from driving her away, as it likely had today?

The last rays of sunset reflected streaks of mauve and violet in the water. The breeze had turned colder. Turning up his collar, John thrust his hands into his pockets and walked back along the beach to the harbor.

CHAPTER 10

Emma should have known what to expect. She and Pearl were getting ready to open for lunch the next day when a familiar black Escalade pulled up to the curb outside. Marlena, in her designer jeans and stiletto-heeled boots, strode into the hotel lobby and rapped on the glass door of the restaurant.

Pearl unlocked the door and held it open. Ignoring her sister-in-law, Marlena zeroed in on Emma like a heat-seeking missile.

“David told me John came in here last night, and that they spoke to each other. He was very emotional, very upset. John was your friend, he said, so that’s why I’m talking to you. Keep him away from my son, missy.”

“My name is Emma—right here.” Emma pointed to the name badge on her uniform. Marlena was a tall woman, especially in high heels. Groomed to the nines, she loomed over Emma in her ill-fitting uniform and blue and white sneakers. But Emma had made up her mind not to be intimidated.

“Well, Emma,” Marlena snapped. “I’m here to tell you, I have full legal custody of David, and I won’t put up with your meddling. If I hear anything about your inviting John here while David is working, the boy won’t be working here anymore. And you’ll be facing a lawsuit.” She swung to face her husband’s sister. “As for you, Pearl—”

“Pearl was on break,” Emma said. “And John came in to talk to me. He didn’t even know David was working here until they saw each other. Even then, they only spoke a few words.”

“And you expect me to believe that.”

The woman was actually calling her a liar. Emma’s temper flared. She held it in check for John’s sake and for David’s.

“John doesn’t want to make trouble for David or you, Marlena,” she said. “Neither do I. I won’t apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong. But I know John won’t let it happen again.”

“He’d better not, or he’ll find himself in court,” Marlena said. “He was a bad husband and a bad father. He cared more about the next bottle of booze than he did about his family. Two different judges ruled that he was an unfit parent.”