It was either that or take one of the Thousand Island cruises, but he was afraid of being stuck on a boat for three hours with nothing to do but look at scenery. He returned to the Caddie and sat patiently waiting for the boat to finish docking. Heaven only knew what he’d do when he disembarked, but he figured the round trip would take up most of the morning. Then, he was assuming there would be another day and a half before he’d be heading back to Michigan with Allie.
She’d said she’d come only if she could have a day or so to get some things in order. Apparently there were still a few exams to finish marking, and she had to arrange for extra help at the store—something about Susan’s back. He’d noticed that the woman had been walking a bit gingerly when he’d followed them the other day.
God, was it only two days ago? He felt as though he’d been in Kingston for ages. Must be the boredom, he decided. Or restlessness to get on with the job. More likely a combination. Maybe even a bit of anxiety about what lay ahead. He wondered what Allie would make of her newfound family.
Perhaps he ought to prepare her a bit more for what was coming. Certainly he’d told her as much as he needed to, and it had all been true, more or less. If things went well, she might never fill in the gaps, though he somehow doubted that. She was too sharp. And when those gaping holes were exposed, would she turn on him? Probably. And he wouldn’t blame her.
Joel sighed, then shifted into Drive as the truck ahead of him rolled off the ferry. Allie wouldn’t be the first woman to view him as a betrayer. Yet, for some damn reason, he hoped she might be an exception.
He drove a few yards to an intersection and stopped. A sign read Marysville, and Joel made a quick right just to get the Cadillac out of the way of the vehicles behind. He pulled up in front of a general store called Fargo’s and climbed out of the car. Marysville seemed little more than a handful of buildings. A paved road stretched east and west as far as he could see. There was a line of cars across the street waiting to board the return ferry, and Joel considered joining it. It was at least another forty-five minutes before the ferry back to Kingston left, and he doubted the two or three stores he saw here would fill the time. Of course there was a diner across the road that might offer a good cup of coffee, and he could always tour the island itself. That might use up twenty minutes.
Joel swung through the sagging screen door into Fargo’s in search of a newspaper. He wandered about, admiring the weathered hardwood floors and the sturdy wooden cabinets and shelving units. There was an old-fashioned butcher’s counter complete with weigh scales, a roll of paper and twine. An aproned man stood behind the counter waiting on a woman, while her children prowled about sucking lollipops.
The whole scene was so gosh-darn wholesome that Joel felt as if he’d walked onto the set of some 1970s family-values sitcom. He handed the teenage girl at the cash register fifty cents for the newspaper and headed for the door. He had his hand on the handle just as a gang of people appeared on the other side of the screen, about to enter. Joel stepped back inside to let the group pass.
Several young women and men, all attired in sleek cycling outfits, clomped in with Allie Newman bringing up the rear. She did a double take when she saw Joel. He found her smile ambivalent, not quite as if he was the last person on earth she wanted to see at that moment, but almost.
“What are you doing here?” she asked without preamble.
“Checking out the local sites,” he said, aware of several helmeted heads turning his way.
“That shouldn’t take more than five minutes,” she quipped. She unstrapped her headgear and shook loose her hair. It bounced softly against her neck and settled in a feathery web around her face, sticking to parts of her cheek where perspiration lingered.
Joel was tempted to brush those wisps away but knew the gesture would seem too familiar. Still, he couldn’t keep his eyes from skimming across the skin-tight spandex suit she was wearing. No doubt because of the excellence of her physical condition, he decided.
“Nothing better to do?” she asked, grinning.
He felt his face heat up. Was she talking about sightseeing on Wolfe Island or his perusal of her cycling suit? “And you?” he couldn’t help asking. “Putting things in order?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I’m supposed to participate in a triathlon at the end of June, and I missed my training session yesterday.” She shot him a look as if he were to blame.
Was there no end of wonders about this woman? He muttered something vaguely congratulatory and started to squeeze past her for the door.
“Are you really driving around the island?” she asked, stopping him before he had his hand on the door.
“Uh, guess so, since I’ve almost an hour before the next ferry. Why? Tired?”
A patient smile crossed her face. “Not yet, but one of my friends has a serious leg cramp and she’s waiting about two miles down the road. We were going to see if anyone here could go for her.”
“Two miles,” he repeated. “She could probably manage on her own when the cramp subsides.”
“She’s just getting over a hamstring injury and has to be careful, but don’t worry about it.” Allie turned away, seemingly intent on joining the group clustered around the ice-cream freezer.
“Sorry,” Joel said quickly, touching her shoulder. “That was petty. Of course I’ll go for her. Maybe you could direct me?”
She nodded and pushed through the screen door. Joel followed meekly, wishing he could replay the past few minutes. He was reminding himself that Allie Newman had an uncanny talent for bringing out weird responses in him when he noticed she was already seated in the Cadillac.
“Good guess,” he said, sliding behind the wheel.
“The only one with an American plate. Make a left here and go east as far as you can. The road will curve inland toward the south side of the island. She’ll be waiting on that stretch.”
In less than a minute Marysville was merely a snapshot in his rearview mirror. “Not a lot to do hereabouts,” he commented.
“Not if you’re a tourist,” she said. “Though if you live here, I imagine working a farm keeps you busy.”
He decided to keep quiet the rest of the way, which took scarcely five minutes along a paved road that stretched across flat acres of farmland.
“There she is!” Allie pointed.
A young woman was sitting under a tree beside the shoulder just ahead. Joel slowed and pulled well over, in spite of the lack of traffic. He helped Allie load the bike into the trunk and then tie the lid down with a bungee cord he just happened to find in the trunk. Allie sat in the back seat with the other woman and began to massage her calf muscles.
Before he climbed into the car himself, Joel noticed how expertly Allie’s long slim fingers moved up and down the injured leg. Finally he forced his gaze away and got in behind the wheel, wishing he could trade places with the injured woman.
See? he chastised himself. There you go again. It was almost as if he was bewitched. Get a grip, fella. There were long days ahead—turbulent ones—and his part in them was just beginning.
They pulled up in front of Fargo’s and Allie helped her friend out of the car while Joel retrieved the bike from the trunk. The friend thanked them and hobbled away to join the rest of the group, standing around the outdoor pop cooler. Allie hovered near the car.
“Guess I’d better get in line,” Joel said, jerking his head at the cars waiting for the return trip.
He hoped she’d suggest they wait together, but she only nodded and said, “See you on the boat,” as he climbed back into the Caddie.
As he reversed the car, he saw her wheel her