None of those activities had ever really fazed him, but an hour later, out in the canoe with Michael, brushing up on his canoeing skills, Joshua felt the weight of responsibility. He had canoed before, but never in waters that could kill you with cold if you capsized and had to stay in them for any length of time.
Michael assured him the island was only a twenty-minute paddle across quiet waters.
“I’ll keep an eye on you,” he promised. “If something goes wrong, I’ll rescue you in the powerboat.”
Joshua was not sure he could imagine anything that would be more humiliating than that, especially with Dannie sharing the boat with him. He was also aware Dannie’s presence, besides making him aware of not wanting a rescue, made him feel responsible for another human being, something that was also new in his freewheeling bachelor existence.
In a way it was ironic, because he shouldered tremendous responsibility. The business decisions he made literally affected the lives and livelihoods of hundreds of people.
That kind of responsibility didn’t even seem real compared to having a life in his hands. Naturally he’d had his own life in his hands many times before, but if he got himself in trouble, he was the only one who suffered the consequences. Maybe the truth was he didn’t really even care.
Strangely, both feelings—of not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of her and of feeling responsible for her safety—made him feel not weakened, but strengthened. Like he was manning up, assuming the ancient role of the protector, the warrior. He would never have guessed that role could feel so satisfying.
Trust Dannie not to let him relish the role for too long! He got her settled in the front of the boat—the non-control position in a canoe—and gave her a paddle for decorative purposes. He issued dire warnings about the tipiness of the contraption they were setting out in, and then he settled into his own position of navigator, course setter, and head paddler.
He was so intent on his duties, he noticed only peripherally that her red sweatshirt matched the red of the canoe, and that her rear in those jeans was something worth manning up for!
But before they were even out of the protected bay that sheltered the lodge, she turned to him in annoyance. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, which she was bringing on herself by trying to pull the boat single-handedly through the water with her paddle!
“Look, I think this is a team activity. I’m not really the kind of girl who wants to sit in the front of the boat and look pretty, but I think we’re paddling out of sync.”
In other words she wasn’t the kind of girl he’d gotten accustomed to.
In other words, maybe he’d been going it alone a little too much. He wasn’t even sure he could play on a team anymore.
But to his surprise, as soon as he relaxed control, as soon as he began to work with her instead of trying to do it all himself, the canoe began to cut through the water with silent speed and grace, an arrow headed straight for that island.
“That’s better,” she said, looking over her shoulder and grinning at him.
He wasn’t quite sure when she had transformed, but somewhere in the last few days she had gone from plain to beautiful. The sun had kissed pale skin to golden, she had given up all effort to tame her luscious hair, and it curled wildly around her face, her expression seemed to become more relaxed each second that they left the children behind them.
“You are pretty,” he stammered, and was amazed how he sounded. He, who had escorted some of the world’s most beautiful and accomplished women, sounded like a schoolboy on his first date.
In answer, she scraped her paddle across the surface of the water, and deliberately splashed him with the icy cold lake water.
Now he could see the gypsy he had glimpsed in her before, dancing to life, especially when she laughed at his chagrin. Dannie said, with patent insincerity, “Oops.”
Now, in this moment, he could see the truth of who she was, shining around her. This is what he had glimpsed when he had touched her lip with this thumb, a very long time ago, it seemed. This is what he had known about her that she had not known about herself. That she was made to dance with life, to shine with laughter, to blossom.
And in that he recognized another truth.
It was not her who was becoming transformed. It was him.
“Don’t rock the boat,” he said grumpily. And somehow it sounded like a metaphor for his life. Joshua Cole, entrepreneur who performed feats of daring and innovation in business, and who embraced adventure in the scant amount of time he allowed for play, did not rock the boat in that one all-important area.
Relationships. He did not even risk real involvement. He saw women a few times, and at the first hint they wanted more he made an exit. At the first sign of true intimacy of the emotional variety he was out of there. He was willing to play the game with his wallet, but he did not take chances with his heart.
Because his heart had been battered and bruised. When his parents had died, people had told him time would heal all wounds. When he had agreed with Sarah that the best thing for that baby would be to allow him to go to a loving family who were emotionally and financially mature, who were prepared for a child in every way, he had thought time would eventually lessen the ache he felt over that decision.
Maybe he had even believed that time had eased the pain. But he had only been kidding himself.
Outrunning something was not the same as healing. Not even close.
“Land ho,” Dannie called, as they drew close to the island.
He looked at her face, shining with enthusiasm for the day, and he felt his guard slip away. He made a decision, just for today, he would engage as completely as he was able.
For her. So she could enjoy one day of being irresponsible, of having fun without the kids.
They landed the canoe, gracelessly, coming as close to tipping it as they had come yet, though thankfully the waters off the island were shallow enough that he didn’t have to worry about her dying of hypothermia in them if they did capsize. Still, even with her jeans rolled up, she was wet to her knees.
He lifted the picnic basket Sally had packed for them and followed Dannie up the shoreline and left the basket there.
“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, and started up the path that led to the cabin. She stumbled on a root, and he reached out his hand to steady her. Somehow he never took his hand away. Hers folded into his as if it was absolutely meant to be there.
There was a well-worn path to the cabin, which was as quaint up close as it had been from far away. Like Angel’s Rest, it had a name plaque hanging at the entrance to the covered, vine-twined porch.
“Love’s Rhapsody,” she read out loud. “Isn’t that lovely?”
“Corny,” he said, deciding then and there the sign was coming down the minute he owned the place
“Should we go in?” she asked. There was something about her wide-eyed wonder in the little cabin that was making him feel edgy.
“Well, yeah, it’s not a church. Besides, I might own it one day. I might as well see how much money I’d have to throw at it to keep it.”
She reacted as he had hoped, by glaring at him as if he had desecrated a sacred site. It was important that she know that distinction existed between them. He cynical and pragmatic, she soft and dreamy. It was important she know that that distinction existed between them, so the wall was up.
And a man needed a wall up in a place like this! He needed a wall up when he was beginning to feel all enthused about playing the protector and warrior. When he felt strangely uncertain if they should enter that sanctuary. What if whatever was in there—the spirit of romance—overcame them? What if he was helpless against it?