Windswept Shores Page 2

  “Tub?” She raised her eyebrows.

  He thought quickly. What do yanks call ‘em? “Er, bath . . . tubs?” Feel itchy, must have sand down my pants, but I don’t want to scratch in front of Megz. Not with her being a real lady and all.

  “Oh, do you want to wash up?”

  “Right.” He glanced at the bucket again. Kinda small, but I reckon I can manage.

  “I’ve got a place to bathe. What brand of soap do you use?” She climbed back into the tent.

  “Whatever you got. I’m not picky.”

  “Here.” Her tanned arm reached out of the tent, he quickly took the wrapped bar from her. “Do you want to shave, too? How about some deodorant? Solid or gel?”

  “What all do you have in there?” He peeked through the tent flap to see Meg rummage through several baskets.

  “Just the small stuff,” she admitted.

  “What’s with all ‘em baskets?”

  “I’m a basket weaver.” Giving him a quick glance over her shoulder, she shrugged in the dim light. “I took night classes. Got good at it. Enough so I’m going to open a shop to sell my hand made things and teach classes in basketry. But if I don’t get back soon, I’m going to lose my deposit on the shop which just became available. It’s in the best area of Anaheim. I’m so looking forward to setting everything up. I even bought a sign.” She smiled proudly.

  “Good on ya.”

  “Thanks.” She climbed back out of the tent handing him deodorant, and a disposable razor. “Here. I’ll get you a basket.”

  He stepped aside as he tried to keep from dropping his armful.

  She slipped her sandals on, went through several baskets then brought over a large one.

  He looked at the basket she handed him. “What’s this fer?”

  “Your things,” she answered. “What size do you wear?”

  “An extra large in your yank shops, tall with a 34 waist.” He dropped everything in the basket and took it from her.

  She pulled up what he thought was a tarp, but he realized it was something else all together. The bright yellow, rubber material, large air tubes, and oar ring told him the dinghy would hold several people.

  His heart beat a little faster. Could this be a way off the island? “Is that what I reckon it is?” If we could air it up, we could leave.

  “Yes, but don’t get too excited. It’s got a hole.”

  “Is that what got ya here?” he asked, examining the raft.

  “Yes. The stewardess inflated it, but I’m the only one who made it out.” Her breath hitched as a half sob escaped her throat. “I used it for a bed when it didn’t rain and a roof when it did. One morning when I woke up it was flat.”

  “No patch kit, eh?”

  “None that I could find,” she admitted, peeking through several suitcases. “This is the one with all the large sized clothes in it.” She pulled out several shirts. “Polo or Hawaiian?”

  “Hawaiian,” he said looking them over. “It’d be cooler.”

  “Long pants or shorts?”

  “It depends on the shorts.”

  “These have pockets all over them, also an adjustable waist.”

  “That’ll do.” He took them from her placing them in the basket.

  “Briefs or boxers,” she asked.

  “Oh, jocks.” His face heated, as he cleared his throat.

  “Don’t be like that, it’s just underwear.” She snorted. “Here, I’ll let you decide.” Megan tossed both pairs into his basket. “Okay, do you want a t-shirt?”

  “Orright.” He looked up from the now full basket.

  “Here’s one that’ll match your shirt, it’ll look nice with your gray eyes.” She tossed him a blue-gray one. “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “Thirteen and a half.” He grinned. She noticed my eyes?

  “Are sandals all right?”

  He took them from her. “My usual shoes are thongs or bare feet.”

  Picking up a basket, she tucked it under her arm. “I’ll show you the way to the bath.”

  They walked behind the tent. Megan led the way along a narrow path that wound up a hill. It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of tumbling water. Seth followed Megan around a corner until he gazed at a waterfall cascading into a deep blue pond.

  “Ya found a billabong. That looks good enough for a tub,” Seth said with approval.

  “It’s good, clean water. I get my drinking-water from the waterfall before I boil it.” Megan walked over to higher ground to the left of the pool. She busied herself retrieving clothes from bamboo poles wedged in-between the trees limbs.

  Seth watched her for a moment, bemused. Well, if she wasn’t going to leave?

  Windswept Shores

  Chapter 2: Green Flash

  Water splashed Megan on the back. She turned, her attention catching on the sparkle of water dripping down Seth’s well defined chest. Her gaze traveled down his six pack, stopping at the flash of white flesh at his hips.

  Seth rubbed his eyes then smoothed back his soaked hair. He grinned, his cheeks dimpling.

  Her face flushed hot. She averted her gaze. Damn, he caught me staring. He seems smug about it, too. She stole another peek at his muscular build. With only six feet separating them, she was close enough to spot something bobbing just below the pond’s surface. Oh, lord, he’s naked. Heat ran through her body. Megan made a quick grab for the clothes before running back to camp.

  Folding her clothes, she put them away in a suitcase. When she was done, she sat in a camp-chair to enjoy the beautiful sunset coloring the sky purple and mauve. Seth’s sandaled-feet crunched the sandy loam. She looked over her shoulder to watch him enter the campsite. He seems steadier now.

  He sat down, bending slightly to drop the basket at his feet.

  “You look better.” She surveyed him.

  Now clean, natural blond streaks highlighted his thick brown hair. When he smiled, his white teeth seem to glow in the dim light. Seth's gray eyes twinkled with mischief as he winked at her.

  Megan’s cheeks heated. God, he’s probably thinking about me staring at him earlier.

  “I feel clean,” he admitted. “Got all the grit out of all me tender bits.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled. “What did you do with your dirty clothes?”

  “Washed ‘em, then hung ‘em up.” He nodded toward the setting sun. “Are you watching for the rescue ships?”

  “Um no, I’m waiting for the green flash.”

  “Green what?” He looked puzzled. “What’s that?”

  “The green flash.” I don’t guess that sounded very intelligent. She plucked at a loose thread on her shorts, but her gaze went back to the horizon. “I know it sounds odd, but when I first got here I watched the sunset, when the sun touched the water there was a green flash. I’ve watched every evening since, waiting for it to happen again.”

  “Do you reckon it’ll happen tonight?”

  She glanced sidelong at him. “I hope so.”

  They watched quietly for a while. When the sun touched the water, the sky darkened, but there was no green flash.

  Megan sighed. “I guess it wasn’t going to happen tonight. Maybe the sky needs to be clear? It’s cloudy again.”

  She stood, following her nightly routine; grabbed a bucket to toss sand on her small fire. Walking near the cliff, Megan stared down at the bigger bonfire. “I guess that’ll be okay for a while.”

  “Are you gonna hit the hay?”

  She glanced at Seth. He still sat on the chair, his eyebrows drawn together.

  “Yeah, I guess you’ve noticed that it rains almost every night? And if you stay up you’re just going to get wet.” She slapped her arm. “The mosquitoes come out, too. I guess we should talk about sleeping arrangements?”

  “Might be a good idea.”

  She frowned at her small tent. I don’t really know him well enough to let him sleep in there with me, but what else am I going to do with him? “There’s enough room in
my tent for two.”

  “Megz, if you’re that uncomfortable I can sleep out here by the fire with the mossies,” he offered. Right on cue, it started to rain. “I don’t suppose you have another tent?”

  “That’s the only one that won’t shred in a stiff breeze. I had to make an A-frame around it to make sure it held together. We’ll just have to make do. Give me a moment.” Kicking off her sandals, she slipped inside the tent.

  “Need any help?” he asked when she started shuffling things around.

  “No, I’ve got it.” Finding her flashlight, she flipped the switch.

  “I’m probably too big to help out in there anyway.”

  “Yeah, it’s a pretty small tent. I’m moving stuff over to my side because I don’t need much leg room, short as I am. I have another sleeping bag you can use.”

  “It’s too hot for swags.”

  “Swags?” She looked out at him.

  He peeked through the tent flap, his attention focused on the sleeping bags.

  “Oh, they’re light weight, but you can sleep on top.” Megan moved her own bed over to one side. She took out an unrolled sleeping bag and smoothed it out. Next, she grabbed a small pillow for one end.

  “Okay done, you can come in now. Just remove your shoes first.”

  “Where do you want ‘em?”

  “Beside mine just under the raft, you can put your basket in with them.” She pointed to the side.

  He slipped off his shoes, setting them where she had asked before entering her tent. “Bit of a squeeze.” He carefully maneuvered in the confined space.

  “I like to think it’s cozy.” She sat cross-legged on her bedroll, giving a sigh. This feels a little awkward sharing my living space with someone I just met, even if he is an attractive guy who nearly drowned. Then she dodged his broad shoulders when he shifted position.

  “It’s a right cubby house,” Seth commented, knocking on the floor with his fist. “What cha’ got for a floor?”

  “I found a large crate on the beach and took it apart. It keeps the tent off the ground and moisture from seeping through the bottom.”

  “Clever.” He lay down on his bed and stared at the slope of the roof, just inches in front of his nose. “Maybe this is a bad time to mention that I’m claustrophobic?”

  Her head jerked up. “Oh no, really?”

  “No, mate, I were just mucking around with 'cha’.” He smirked, and rolled over to his side, punching his pillow to fluff it up.

  Megan shot him a dirty look, reached over to yank down the zippered closure to the tent. When she turned off the flashlight, the night became pitch black. “I hope you don’t need a nightlight to sleep.”

  “Not since I were an ankle biter.”

  “Good, because if you did, I’m afraid you’d just be out of luck,” Megan said.

  The pelting rain filled the silence between them. The tent sides heaved in the stiff breeze. Megan stretched-out on her own small pallet.

  He asked, “Ready to catch some Z's?”

  Megan turned her small pillow over several times, trying to find the perfect position for sleeping. There never was one. She finally settled. “Yes, unless you want to talk or tell stories?”

  “Shall I tell you a yarn?”

  “What kind of story would you like to tell?” she asked, turning to face him.

  “It’s something we did at home. I’ll tell a story that may be true or it might not be. That's for you to work out.”

  “Kind of like truth or dare?” She tucked her arm under her head. The pillow still didn’t feel comfortable. “Can you tell me about Australia?”

  Thunder boomed outside.

  Megan jumped. That sounded really close, I hate lightning storms. Maybe Seth's story will take my mind off of it.

  “When I were a nipper, I had me a kangaroo for a pet.”

  “Did you really?” Megan asked her voice going soft, imagining a baby kangaroo hopping after him.

  “Naw, yer just like all the yanks.” A soft rustling noise came from his direction, as he moved around on his bed.

  “How’s that?” she asked, flinching when she heard banging outside. Was that a limb hitting something in the wind?

  “Yer ready to believe anything I tell ya.”

  “That’s not nice,” Megan huffed. What is it with this guy? He could at least be grateful I’m sharing my tent. She had a childish impulse to throw a pillow at him. She curled tighter into a ball as the rain came down harder.

  In the flash from a lightning strike, Megan realized Seth was staring at her. She forced herself to relax a bit. I don’t want to explain I don’t like loud noises.

  “I were just being cheeky with ya.” He fell quite a moment. “I’ll tell ya something about me home, then shall I?”

  “The truth this time and not a yarn,” she snapped, feeling frustrated. Was she ever going to understand what the hell he was talking about?

  “Abso-bloody-lutely.”

  “Alright.” Hearing the thunder crashing overhead, Megan gritted her teeth.

  “Me home is beautiful, but it can also be deadly if yer not careful. When it rains like it is ‘ere, it rains so much we call it the wet. When it stops, it gets varra dry, and then it’s a drought.”

  “Do you call the dry spell the dry?”

  Seth’s light chuckle filled the small tent. “Now who’s being cheeky?”

  Megan snorted, putting her back to him. “You want to sleep now?”

  “Yeah, I’m knackered.”

  She asked over her shoulder, “You’re going to have to explain that one?”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Okay, that I understand.”

  “G’night.”

  Seth’s breathing deepened almost at once. Megan realized how comforting it was having someone in her space again. Soon she drifted off, too. They would have slept the entire night, but then the screaming began.

  Windswept Shores

  Chapter 3: Screaming

  Seth lurched awake at the sounds of screaming. He smacked his head on something, his dark vision suddenly filling with stars. “Ow! bloody hell.” He rubbed his forehead. What did I hit? He ran his h and over the tent’s side until he encountered something round and hard on the outside. One of them support beams. Who’s screaming?

  “Get-out, get-out now,” Megan shrieked again.

  Oh yeah, the bird. “ Howzat? You want me to leave?”

  “No, no, get out of the plane it’s going to sink. Please, Jonathon, you got to get out.” She sobbed. “No, it’s going under.”

  Seth groped around in the dark to touch her shoulder. Getting a firmer grip, he gave her a shake. “Megz? Megz. It’s only a dream. Come on, girl! Wake up.”

  “Huh? What? Who are you?” she sounded startled.

  “It’s me, Seth. You were having the mother of all nightmares.”

  “Oh, sorry, I remember now.” She sniffed.

  “ Orright now?”

  “Uh, I guess,” she murmured, her voice shaky.

  “Who’s Jonathon?”

  “My hus-husband.”

  “Your husband was on the plane when it sunk?”

  “Uh-huh.” She sniffed again. “We were h-heading to N-Nassau for a second h-honeymoon.”

  “How often do you have that nightmare?”

  “Every night. I guess I should have warned you.”

  “Blimey, no wonder you’ve got kangaroos loose in the top paddock.”

  “I’m not even going to ask about that one.”

  His hand lingered on her shoulder. Her trembling vibrated up his arm. Blimey, she’s all shaken up. “S’kay, she’ll be right.” He grabbed her sleeping bag, pulled it over, slipping an arm around her waist.

  Her body went rigid. “What are you doing?”

  “Relax, mate, I’m not trying to get a leg over. You need a bit of comfort so ya can go back to sleep. My mum would cuddle me when I’d have a howler of a nightmare. It’s nice to know you’re not alone.”


  “So, I’m supposed to think of you like my mom or dad?”

  “Or like yer husband if that’ll help?” He grinned in the dark, wondering what kind of reaction he was going to get.

  “I think not.”

  “I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring. Is it because yer husband drowned?” His heart beat a little faster when he asked the question. He really wanted to know if he had a chance with her.

  “No, he’s not drowned,” she snapped. “I lost my ring in the ocean, but I’m not sure when. I just looked down one day, it was gone.”

  She’s in denial about her husband’s death. I reckon it’s too soon. A little disappointed, he decided to change subjects. “So, you got any ankle biters at home?”

  “Two boys.”

  “How old?” he asked. They must be missing their mum, poor little nippers.

  “Joshua is twenty. He’s in college. Eli is eighteen and just graduated from high school.”

  “Blimey, how long have you been married to yer bloke?”

  “Twenty-three years this January,” she said.

  “How old are you?” He positioned his head where he could breathe in the scent of her hair.

  Megan moved a bit forward. “Do you know that is considered very rude to inquire after a woman’s age?”

  “Not where I’m from, so spill.” He scooted up some, placing his knees behind hers.

  She pulled away. “Humph, well, okay I’m forty-two.”

  “You’re still spunky.” He wondered how far she’d move until she ran out of room in her tiny tent.

  “Uh, spunky, thanks.” Megan rolled onto her back. Seth was forced to move back, but kept his hand on her tummy. Blimey, she out maneuvered me.

  “You got hitched when you were a young ‘un?” He quickly did the math. She’s a bit older than me. More of a challenge.

  “Yeah, I got married at nineteen, but I knew what I wanted, or thought I did. Have you ever been married?”

  “Got hitched once.”

  “What happened?” she asked. Her bed rustled as she shifted position.

  “We got into a blue, she told me to shove off, so I left. So that were the end of that.” His hand drifted to her ribcage.