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But what about later tonight? How could she and Josh possibly get through the night in such close quarters?
This cabin was begi
Five
Josh set the lantern on the floor beside the generator and switched it on. A wide beam of light illuminated the rusted machine. Spying an old army blanket folded on the end of a workbench, he shook it open, intending to spread it out on the floor. But the moment he touched it, he felt an amazing warmth flowing through his veins.
He studied the threadbare fabric. There were no markings on it. Nothing to distinguish it from any other army blanket. Still, he decided that it was too fine to be used in such a cavalier ma
Using a wire brush, he began scrubbing years of rust and corrosion from the first metal part. When it was clean he set it on the cloth before reaching for another.
He’d always enjoyed the challenge of taking machinery apart and putting it back together. There was something so satisfying about finding that one tiny piece, that one overlooked part that would make the entire system hum. Even as a small boy he’d loved fitting pieces of a puzzle together. This chore was much the same, except that the pieces were bigger and more complex.
From his father he’d inherited a sense of curiosity; from his mother, patience. The two traits had held him in good stead through the years.
It was one thing to take things apart and see what made them tick. But as the minutes turned into hours, and the work showed no end in sight, though his persistence never wavered, his concentration shifted and he found his thoughts drifting to Grace Marin and that kiss.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so rocked by a simple kiss. Of course, there’d been nothing simple about it. The moment his mouth touched hers, he’d felt as if some unseen force had taken over his control.
He supposed, if he had to fall this hard, it may as well be with someone not only easy to look at, but easy to be with, as well.
She was a puzzle. A fascinating, complex woman. But there was a sadness he could see in her eyes in unguarded moments. Who was she? What had happened in her past to make her so sad? Looking back over their meal, he realized that, though she’d been a good listener, she’d revealed almost nothing about herself. He figured he would patiently work out the puzzle of Grace, just as he did everything else, given enough time.
Time. There’d been so little of it in recent years. Now he seemed to have more than he needed. Fu
Sitting back on his heels, he studied the generator. As far as he could determine, once it was properly cleaned and oiled, it ought to work. He unscrewed a protective plate and set it aside before tackling the rusted parts underneath. He was looking forward to communicating with the outside world by morning. Not that he expected to need this outdated piece of equipment for that. He had no doubt that the plane carrying the crew would arrive long before he could get this generator up and ru
What was keeping them? Had the same sudden atmospheric change that had caused his crash, forced them to land somewhere nearby? He refused to blame the crash on anything else. He knew it hadn’t been pilot error. Though he’d been distracted by his unexpected passenger, he hadn’t done anything to bring about the accident.
He thought about the debris that had once been his plane. If the crew following him had suffered a similar crash, would any of them have survived? He wouldn’t allow himself to think about that. It was simply unimaginable.
And what about his mysterious passenger? Why had there been no sign of her after the crash? He shuddered at the thought that she had perished, her body incinerated beyond recognition. What a cruel injustice, when she’d probably stowed away as a lark. Or maybe, having learned about the proposed television special, had hoped to find a measure of fame.
And then there was Marty’s unease about this place and its reputation. Were there really planes and boats that vanished forever, without a trace?
Unhappy with the direction of his thoughts, he returned his full attention to the generator.
Grace sat at the end of the dock, staring across the darkened water. In a tree by the water’s edge an owl hooted, and nearby, its mate answered. Waves lapped gently against the shore in a steady drumbeat. Wind stirred the leaves of the trees, causing them to rustle softly.
She loved the nighttime best. She’d always considered it her special time. As a child, she’d used that time to forget, at least for a little while, the need to please her stern, unyielding father. For that brief period before sleep overtook her, she could stop pushing herself to be perfect. For a little while she could simply allow her mind to drift. To wonder where her mother had gone and why. To allow herself to hope that her mother might give a thought to the daughter she’d abandoned, and wonder what Grace had made of her life. It had been pleasant to imagine what her modier looked like. Throughout the years, her curiosity about the woman who had given her life had never dimmed. If anything, her unanswered questions nagged the edges of her mind at the strangest times. They were especially strong when daylight faded, and darkness covered the land.
Was that why, even now that she was an adult, the night remained her special time? Night was the time to rid herself of any unpleasant thoughts. Anything that might rob her of precious sleep.
Sleep. Grace yawned and stretched and realized that her muscles were stiff and cramped. She’d been sitting on the cold dock for hours without seeing a trace of light anywhere on the water. If the so-called spirit was going to stir, it would have done so by now.
The thought of a warm cabin and a soft bed were far too tempting.
Getting to her feet Grace gathered up her camera equipment, stowing them in her backpack, and made her way along the dock. The grass brushing her ankles was cold and damp with dew as she took the distance to the cabin at a run.
Inside, the rush of air caused a glowing ember on the hearth to pop, sending up a spray of neon red sparks. Grace crossed the room and added a log and kindling. In no time a fire blazed, and she eagerly held out her hands to the warmth.
Too tired to do more than kick off her boots, she draped the afghan around her shoulders, stretched out on the sofa, and was soon asleep.
Josh paused in his work and stared at the generator parts that he’d managed to clean so far, neatly arranged on the drop cloth, and ready for assembly. He decided to finish the rest in the morning. For now, hot, sweaty and covered with grime, he decided to take a quick dip in the lake to wash away the residue of this project. He wondered if Grace would still be watching for her spirit light, camera in hand. Without his watch to tell him the time, he calculated that it was well past midnight.
After carefully closing the door of the shed, Josh dashed through the darkness, following the trail of moonlight that illuminated the dock. Seeing that it was deserted, he paused only long enough to strip off his clothes and boots and set them atop the folded army blanket before diving into the gold-tipped waves. After the initial shock of cold water against heated flesh, he dove deep before rising to the surface and, like a great shaggy dog, shook droplets from his hair.
He swam in lazy circles around and around, grateful for the chance to work out the kinks in his muscles caused by the long hours in the shed.
Far out on the lake he spotted a sudden flash of light. His first thought was that it was a ribbon of moonlight trailing across the water. But the shape of it was all wrong. This was a single light that shimmered like a spotlight and appeared to be dancing atop the waves.