The Inn at Angel Island (25 page)

Daniel put some bills on the table and stood up. Liza did, too, and scooped up her pile of wet clothing. “What do I owe for the blouse?” she asked Daisy.

“Oh . . . you keep it as a gift. It looks perfect on you. I think it was just sitting here waiting for you. I wouldn’t feel right taking anything for reuniting it with its rightful owner.”

Daisy’s logic was a bit pretzel shaped, Liza thought, but the gesture was generous. Everyone around here seemed so generous in spirit, reaching out for connection. It was so different from the city.

“Thank you. That’s verynice of you,” Lizasaid, thinking she would find some way to make it up to Daisy before she left the island.

“It’s nothing at all. Don’t be silly.”

Daisy walked them to the front door of the cottage. The rain still fell steadily but not quite as hard. Daisy handed them an umbrella. “You can borrow this. Drop it off sometime when you pass by.”

“Thank you, Daisy.” Daniel opened the umbrella and held it out with one hand. Then he slung his other arm around Liza’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Ready to make a run for it?”

Liza nodded, his nearness leaving her a bit breathless before she’d even taken a step. They ran to the truck, and Daniel opened her door, sheltering her with the umbrella as she climbed in. Then he walked to his side and got in the driver’s seat. Daisy waved and went into her cottage, closing the door.

Daniel put the keys in the ignition but didn’t start the truck. “We never read Daisy’s poem,” he said.

“Right . . . well, here it is.” Liza took the sheet of notebook paper out of her shirt pocket and unfolded it. She read the words aloud:

“Interesting.” Daniel smiled briefly. “I’ll have to think about that.”

“Me, too,” Liza agreed.

But she could guess what he was thinking. The same thing she was. She was having a little spring madness today—running off in the rain and hiding out with him in the tearoom. It had been perfectly out of character for her . . . and perfectly wonderful.

She reached over and tucked the poem in his shirt pocket. “Here, you keep this now. Daisy said to pass it on.”

He touched her hand, holding it to his chest for a moment.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for the tea,” she said quietly. “That was an adventure.”

“I hope it wasn’t too exciting for you.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Nope, not at all. It was just right.”

“Good. I’m happy to hear that.” He started up the truck, swooped past the General Store, and turned toward the main road that led to the inn. Then he reached across the seat and took her hand. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“I would like that,” she said quietly. “Very much.”

She would love to spend time alone with Daniel again and get to know him better. But she wasn’t sure when or how that would happen.

In a few days she would return to the city, and he would stay here. Not just distant in miles but in an entire way of living and thinking.

Starting up a relationship with Daniel didn’t seem at all practical. But the touch of his hand on hers reminded Liza that it was too late to worry about that. A relationship had already begun.

Chapter Ten

D
ANIEL steered the truck up toward the inn and parked at the front door.

“Coming in?” Liza asked. Half of her wanted him to come inside, the other half didn’t. She wanted to be alone awhile and savor their time together in secret. She didn’t want to be with him right now around other people.

He thought about it a moment, then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m going to get home now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Right. See you tomorrow.” She sat very still, looking at him. He seemed about to lean over and kiss her when her brother burst out of the house and ran down the porch steps, coming to a stop at the passenger door of the truck.

“Liza, are you all right?” he called.

Daniel laughed. “I guess you’d better go. Your adoring fans await.”

“Yes, I guess so,” she said quietly. She glanced at him a moment, then opened the door and jumped out, practically landing in her brother’s arms.

“I’m okay, honestly.”

Peter stared at her, his brow furrowed with worry as they climbed the steps toward the house. “What is that you’re wearing? You look like . . . the Little Prince.”

Liza laughed. “I do look like the Little Prince. I couldn’t quite figure it out. But that’s exactly right.”

Peter seemed puzzled at her cheerful answer and good mood. But before he could question her further, Claire stepped out onto the porch, holding a towel as big as a blanket. Liza, who was still damp and chilled, gratefully pulled the towel around her.

“Liza, we were worried about you,” Peter said, as they paraded into the house. “Where have you been?”

“Oh . . . I didn’t go too far,” she insisted.

A lightning bolt lit up the sky, and their conversation was interrupted by the big boom that followed.

“Where’s Jeff ?” she asked, looking around.

“He and Daniel went out to look for you. Jeff came back after a while and waited around. But he finally left a few minutes ago,” Peter reported.

“Good.” Liza sighed, feeling relieved. “I’m going up to change my clothes.”

“You ought to take a hot shower,” Claire advised.

A hot shower was a great idea. A long hot shower.

“Where’s Daniel? Isn’t he coming in?” Peter opened the front door and looked out at the rain.

“He had to go home,” Liza said.

Peter closed the door. “Why didn’t he call and let us know you were all right?”

Liza paused at the bottom of the staircase. “We stopped at the tearoom in the town center. I guess we just forgot to call.”

Peter frowned. “Just forgot? That wasn’t very considerate. Daniel knew we were all worried about you,” he added, sounding like an anxious father.

Liza didn’t feel remotely like an errant teenager, but she didn’t want to turn this into a fight. “I’m sorry, Peter. It was my fault. I was afraid Jeff was still here. I didn’t want to see him.”

“I thought that might be the problem,” he said, his tone softening. “Daniel was a good sport to kill some time with you until the coast was clear.”

“Yes, a very good sport.” She started up the stairs, hoping her brother hadn’t noticed the smile that stretched across her face.

Liza took a hot shower and changed into clean, dry sweats and thick socks. Down in the kitchen she found Peter sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. It was late afternoon, almost time for dinner.

“Would you like some hot soup or some tea?” Claire asked.

Despite the shower and all the tea she’d had with Daniel, Liza still felt chilled.

“Some tea would be great. Thanks, Claire.”

“The water’s all ready.” Claire made the tea and set the mug down at her place, then lifted Liza’s wet hair and slipped a fluffy towel around her shoulders. “You don’t want to get your back all wet again,” she said quietly.

Liza tilted her head up and smiled at the housekeeper. She was so tired from her ordeal, she didn’t mind being waited on and fussed over.

The rain was falling steadily in gusty sheets that battered the house. Peter had been reading the paper and put it down after a particularly loud rumble of thunder. “I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean on a boat,” he said.

Liza smiled. “At least the house isn’t rocking from side to side.”

“Not yet,” he replied, raising his eyebrows as another loud crack of lightning illuminated the sky. “I hope you aren’t thinking of going home in this tonight,” he said to Claire. “The roads will definitely be flooded.”

“They were already pretty bad this afternoon,” Liza said. “You really have to stay over, Claire.”

“Yes, I’ll stay the night,” Claire agreed. “That’s what my room on the third floor is for.”

“Don’t bother cooking a big dinner, Claire,” Liza added. “We’ll just have sandwiches or leftovers.”

Will came into the kitchen then, earbuds draped around his neck. “This storm is fierce,” he said. “I tried to text Sawyer, but nothing’s going through.” Sawyer, Liza had learned, was one of Will’s friends in Tucson. “Think it will be over in an hour?” he asked his dad.

Peter shook his head. “No, this isn’t like a monsoon back home. The storms here can last for days.”

Will shot him an alarmed look. “Days?”

Peter looked about to reply when a huge crack of lightning streaked across the sky. The entire room grew very bright for a long moment, then they heard the thunder, which seemed to shake the entire building.

They all held their breath as the lights in the house flickered . . . then went out.

“That did it,” Peter grumbled, putting down his newspaper once and for all.

“The power’s gone out,” Claire said.

The room was completely black. Liza could barely see her hand.

“This is cool. Sort of like a fun house,” Will declared.

“It’s not going to be much fun if it stays this way,” his father pointed out. “There’s not a lot we can do in the dark.”

“There’s nothing to do around here anyway. What’s the difference?” Will asked.

Sarcastic but true, Liza thought.

“We may be without electricity, but we’re not without light,” Claire said. “I’ve gathered some flashlights and candles.” She made her way over to the kitchen counter behind Liza and picked up something. Liza heard metallic sounds. Then a powerful beam of light glowed. It was a large camping lantern. Claire set it in the middle of the table and then picked up a smaller flashlight, which she handed to Liza.

“Thanks, Claire,” Liza said. “Good thing you thought ahead and had those handy.”

“Okay, we have some flashlights. What now?” Peter asked.

Liza was about to answer, but before she could, a loud knock sounded on the door.

They all turned to look at one another.

“Who could that be?” Liza asked, wondering.

“I’d better get it.” Peter rose and picked up one of the other flashlights on the counter.

“Can I come?” Will asked, rising in his chair.

“You stay here,” his father commanded. “Let me see who it is first.”

“Who do you think it is, Dad . . . Dracula?” Will asked.

“Very funny,” Peter grumbled, as he checked the light and stalked off. Though from the expression on his face, Liza wondered if he did expect a scary visitor of some kind.

Then she heard Peter open the door and heard him talking to someone, a man’s voice.

Maybe it’s Daniel, she thought. Maybe the route back to his house was flooded, so he had to turn around and come back here.

She secretly readied herself for Daniel’s appearance. But her heart soon flipped from unexpected cheer to unexpected dread. She did recognize the visitor’s voice. It wasn’t Daniel. And she might have welcomed Count Dracula more.

“Jeff is here,” Peter called out from the foyer. “The bridge was flooded. He couldn’t cross.”

Liza walked into the hallway and stopped. Jeff stood at the front door, slipping out of his wet leather jacket. His hair and pants were wet, too. He glanced at her with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry. I rode around the island for a while after I left here, just to take a look.”

Looking for me,
Liza filled in silently. She was glad she had gone to the cemetery. Jeff would never have guessed she was there, even if he had driven right by. It almost felt as if her aunt had protected her from him out there.

“The rain started and I wasn’t thinking,” Jeff went on. “But by the time I got to the bridge, it was closed. I didn’t realize that’s how they run things here.”

That wasn’t how any group of people on the island ran things. It was the way nature ran things. But Liza didn’t try to explain that to him.

Claire stepped past Liza and handed Jeff a towel.

“Thank you,” Jeff said sincerely. He wiped his face, then rubbed his hair.

“Well, you might as well come in,” Liza said finally. “I guess you’ll have to stay awhile.”

If not the entire night.

“How long does it take for the water to recede?” he asked.

Liza shrugged. “It all depends on the weather conditions and the tide.”

“High tide is around nine tonight. I just read it in the paper,” Peter said. “With all this rain and wind, I doubt the bridge will open until one or even two in the morning.”

“We can call the gatehouse and find out,” Claire said. “I have the phone number in the kitchen.”

There was a chance that the water would clear up by midnight or so, Liza thought. But not much of a chance. It seemed like she was stuck with Jeff, whether she liked it or not.

 

 

A short time later, they all sat down to an early dinner by candlelight—sandwiches and more soup. Luckily, the gas range was not affected by the power outage, and the meal was perfect for the rainy night.

Jeff was on his best behavior, Liza noticed. He was pretty quiet and only spoke when spoken to. He was probably afraid that given the way things were going for him today, she might toss him out in the storm. She had given it a thought.

After dinner it was too early to go up to bed, though the storm still raged outside and there seemed no possibility of the power coming back.

Jeff called the gatehouse at the bridge from his cell phone, though they all knew it was a lost cause.

“Still closed. They doubt it will open until the morning.”

“You have to stay over, I guess,” Liza said. “It’s all right, we have plenty of room.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Jeff tried to catch her eye, but she looked away.

“I’ll make up a room for you,” Claire said.

“I’ll help,” Liza offered, looking for an excuse to go upstairs.