Windswept Shores Page 8

  Megan’s eyes flew open. “Seth, get off me!”

  “Wazzat?”

  “I said get off,” she snapped through gritted teeth, then shoved him with her back. “I was having a dream! You took advantage of me!” She jumped out of bed, hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Must have been one hell of a dream,” he called after her.

  “It was,” Megan whispered, splashing water on her face. Her sex throbbed, while she shook with need. She took off her clothes and turned on the shower. Getting in, she massaged herself. But it was the thought of Seth touching her that finally brought the release her body craved. No, I can’t let myself get close to someone else. Jonathan, damn you, why did you untie the raft? We were supposed to be together forever, but you set me adrift. Did you even care where I ended up? Why did you act like our marriage was unimportant? Why did you turn your back on me and get a mistress?

  Hot tears joined the water running off her face, as she once again grieved for her marriage and her husband.

  ~* * *~

  Megan dressed in her last clean outfit and walked into the kitchen where Seth fried pork steaks for breakfast.

  “G’day, Megz, are you feeling better after yer shower?”

  “Yes,” she answered, glancing at his hands, remembering how wonderful they felt touching her. She ducked her head. Admit it, Meg, you got the itch, bad.

  “I have brekky done.” He filled a plate with meat and fried potatoes, then set it on the table.

  “Thank you.” Megan sat, gazing at the greasy, unappetizing food. She picked up her fork and picked at it, disinterested.

  Seth filled his plate, setting it across from her. “Not hungry?”

  “I ate too much last night.”

  “That was a fine feed,” he agreed as he sat, dumping ketchup on his food. “I hadn’t gotten to fill myself up that much in a long time.”

  “I feel bloated.” She pushed her plate away, then picked up her tea. “I still have the pig’s oily taste in my mouth.”

  “A bit gamey, eh?”

  “Yeah, and I brushed my teeth twice.” She took another sip.

  He pushed the antibiotics towards her. “You need to eat something to take with these.”

  She swallowed a pill, then pulled back her plate. “Maybe I can eat a couple of potatoes.”

  “I found some paw paws.” He got up, grabbed a big fruit, slicing it. “I use to eat these at home, and this I know how to pick ripe.”

  “Oh, Papaya,” she said, getting a look at it. “I love those.”

  He raked the black seeds from the orange fruit, setting half on a plate, then gave it to her with a spoon. “Here you go, luv.”

  The fruit set well in her stomach, and sweetened the taste in her mouth. She looked up into Seth’s steady unnerving stare. “What is it? Do I have food on my face?”

  “Megz, I, uh.” He stopped, looking down.

  “Yes?”

  “About this mornin’, I didn’t mean to agrov ya. I thought you wanted me to touch ya.”

  “Uh.” He means aggravate. “Yeah, um, don’t worry about it. I’m . . . I’m going to go back to my camp today.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Megz, ya can’t. You’ll be alone like a country dunny.”

  “A dunny?” She blinked. “Look, it’s okay. I’ve been alone before. Anyway I ran out of clothes to wear.”

  “You can wash ‘em here.”

  “I don’t have enough clothes with me. What if the rescue ships come and I’m not there?”

  Seth drew his eyebrows together. “You left a note.”

  “What if the note blew away? What then?”

  “Rubbish!” His hand dropped hard onto the table, making Megan jump. “They wouldn’t leave off without searching the cay first.”

  Megan gazed off a moment. “I don’t want to miss the chance of getting off this island. If they find you with those medicines, you might be arrested.” She glanced back at him. “I need to see my boys. Joshua, I’m not so worried about, he’s more mature. But my youngest, Eli, he’s still young, and I don’t know if he can handle being alone without me or his dad.”

  “I’m fixing the bloody boat. Don’t ya want to stay with me?” he growled.

  Megan stared at him a long moment, taken aback at his anger. But wasn’t fooled. Oh, he doesn’t want to be alone, does he? She said softly, “When you fix the boat, come around to my side of the island, then pick me up. We’ll leave together. All right?”

  He looked down at his cooling food. “What if I can’t fix it?”

  She said nothing for a moment. “Then hike over, we’ll wait for the rescue ships together, but we won’t tell them about the Dinki-Di or the smuggling.”

  “Deal.” He stuck out his hand, and she gave it a shake.

  ~* * *~

  Megan packed her dirty clothes in the backpack along with the penicillin.

  Seth walked up behind her. “Here, Megz.” He handed her a tea tin and sugar container. “I know how you like your morning cuppa. Here’s a flashlight with fresh batteries and a knife that I know will do you. Keep it sharp, also keep it on you in case of bush pigs.”

  She turned the hunting knife over in her hands. It was small enough for her grip.

  “Hold it like this.” He stood behind her, reaching around to curve her hand around the handle. “If you’re confronted by a boar, it’ll face you before it charges. Stab straight. Aim for the eyes.” He pulled back her arm and thrust it forward. “Cut at the throat.” He moved her arm in a slashing motion. “Aim right through the boar with force. Their hides are tough.”

  “Okay, I’ll remember. Thank you.” Megan put the knife back in its sheath, turned and hugged him.

  He rubbed her back before letting go. “Want to take some meat with you?”

  “No. It’ll spoil before I get back to camp.” She slipped the knife in her pack. “But I want to take the potato peels with me, so I can grow potatoes.”

  “Don’t you need seed potatoes to grow ‘em?”

  “There are eyes on the peels and potatoes grow from eyes.” She stopped, then chuckled. “Remember calling me a bored housewife? Well, I also took a gardening course. I learned all about raising vegetables.”

  “Orright, I’ll get them for you.” They walked into the kitchen where he dumped the peelings into a plastic bag for her, which she stuffed in her pack.

  “Do you want any food?”

  “No.” She shook her head, slipping on her backpack.

  “You sure?” he asked, surprised, then followed her out on deck.

  She nodded toward the island. “There’s food out there if you know how to gather it.” He’ll need his meat and canned food more than I will. He doesn’t know how to survive here like I do. Megan turned, put a foot in the first rung of the ladder, then started down. She stopped half way and looked up at Seth. A bit of his breath reached her. He’s had a beer already? God, I don’t need to be attracted to an alcoholic. I went through that once. Never again. What’s he going to do when his beer runs out? “Bye, Seth.”

  “Cheers,” he said, but his gray eyes looked blue.

  Before she got too far, she heard behind her, “Hoo-roo, Megz. I’ll see you soon.”

  She turned to wave at him, then headed to the rocks that had given her so much trouble a few days ago.

  Windswept Shores

  Chapter Thirteen: Unwelcome Visitor

  Megan took her time climbing over the ridge, but disturbed the nesting sea birds. Double wary after Seth raided their nests, they screamed and dove at her. Ducking, she hurried fast as her injured leg would allow. She felt relief when she set both feet on the sand on the other side. The hike dragged on uneventful, also much slower without Seth’s presence. She stopped once to gather some fruit for a midday meal, resting her throbbing leg.

  Reaching her campsite just before sundown, she took out the new flashlight Seth had given her and checked her tent. The note she found was still attached, and still legible in sp
ite of the water damage. Inside, she found spiders had taken up residence during her absence. Using a sandal, she smashed them.

  She unrolled her bed, going right to sleep, worn out from her hike.

  ~* * *~

  “Seth!” Megan yelled. “The boar is going to charge.” She jerked awake but realized that wasn’t her usual nightmare.

  She reached over before remembering he wasn’t there, and let her hand fall back. Damn, what does that dream mean?

  Megan tossed and turned, vainly trying to find a comfortable position. I’ve gotten spoiled by the mattress on the boat. Finally, the light rain lured her back to sleep.

  ~* * *~

  Getting up at first light, Megan found stuff knocked around that the nightly rain couldn’t account for. She spotted cloven hoof prints crisscrossing her carefully laid paths. “Pigs,” she said with disgust. Retrieving Seth’s parting gift, she found a belt in one of the suitcases so she could wear it. The blade slipped easily out of its sheath as she tested its sharp edge. If they are feeling at home where they can smell a human, then they might come and challenge me.

  Gathering up her things, she went to the waterfall to have her bath. Everything’s back to normal. She spread a t-shirt over a rock to better scrub at a stubborn stain with a nail brush. Afterwards, she hauled water to boil for drinking, then straightened up her campsite. Taking out the potato peels, she paused, remembering Seth putting them in there for her. Will I ever see him again? She left them next to her tent until she was ready to plant, then gathered fruit for breakfast.

  Megan took a bite of a very small banana, sighing as she looked out over the teal colored ocean. I miss Seth and his calling the first meal of the day brekky.

  Tia Chi was a real challenge after a week with no practice. She also kept getting distracted. Did someone yell oy? No, just a seagull. Turning slowly, she caught something in her peripheral vision. Her heart beat faster. Seth? No, it’s a pig. A pig? Damn.

  She grabbed a rock, throwing it like she did when she played baseball with her boys. The boar shied away, entering the bush. “That’s right just keep on going you big ugly drongo,” she yelled, punctuating her words with another stone. Bloody hell, I’m picking up Seth’s Aussie slang.

  ~* * *~

  Just as the sky started to lighten, Megan woke to a grunt and a rustling noise just outside her tent. “Who’s there?” She quickly unzipped her tent. A big, ugly boar stuck its head through the opening. Megan screamed.

  “Huh?” grunted the scarred boar. It tried to hook her with its tusk.

  “Get out! Get out!” Megan shrieked, scrambling back to reach under her pillow. She heard something ripping as she jerked her head back to the tent opening. The pig had gotten a tusk stuck in the tent’s door flap. It whipped its head back and forth, trying to get loose. “Damn wanker,” she yelled. “You’re tearing my tent.”

  Her hand closed around the knife handle, and in one movement she slashed the boar across its face. Rearing back on its hind legs, it ripped its tusk out of the door. The boar quickly got to its feet, charging Megan with a squeal of rage. She heard Seth’s voice calmly telling her to aim for the eye. Ready this time, she pulled back her knife then thrust it forward and stuck the pig in the eye. Blood and clear fluids flowed down her arm, soaking her sleeve.

  The boar jerked backward as it shook it head. Squealing and grunting, it ran away into the predawn light.

  Megan sat with her butt in the ruined doorway of her tent, her bare feet against the damp sandy loam. She shook with the aftereffects of an adrenaline rush. Oh, Seth, I wish you were here. I wouldn’t have to handle the boar all by myself. She pulled at her night shirt, realizing it stuck to her because of the pig’s blood. “Oh, yuck!” Her stomach gave a warning lurch. Bending forward, holding her tummy, she took several deep, cleansing breaths. Then she noticed the torn plastic bag and scattered potato skins, realizing what the pig had been after.

  Dammit.

  The morning was spent trying to repair the damage to her tent with a mending kit she found in the luggage. Seth’s knife came in handy for gathering reeds, so she could weave a more secure door. She attached one side of it to the logs, which she used to anchor her tent. Sunk into the ground, they kept the strong winds from tearing her tent apart. Apparently, the logs were also sturdy enough to keep a wild boar from tipping her home over, too.

  Megan swung her new door back and forth, smiling in satisfaction that it worked. Next she made a locking device. She finished it with sharp bamboo spikes aimed outward. There, now if that boar wants a return engagement, he’ll get a nasty surprise.

  By afternoon, she tackled making a potato patch next to her campsite. She built a raised bed from rocks. Gathering partly decomposed leaves from the interior of the island, she mixed it with sand for soil. Putting the potato skins in this soil, she heaped more on top. Cutting more reeds, she worked on a basket-like structure armed with sharp bamboo sticks. She hammered poles into the ground with a rock to anchor the boar proof cover.

  She stood back admiring her handiwork with a satisfied smile. Jonathan, you were so wrong. My basket weaving classes weren’t a waste of my time.

  The next few days were uneventful as she tried to return to her earlier habits. But she found herself lonelier then she’d been before. She kept watching the western end of the cay from where Seth would return—if he ever came back.

  Windswept Shores

  Chapter Fourteen: Where there’s smoke there’s fire

  Megan ran a thumb over her healed scar and counted the time. “Three weeks to the day I left the Dinki-Di. Was it a dream? No, it did happen. I really did meet a handsome Aussie. But will I ever see him again?”

  The day turned gloomy with a darkening sky. When she looked up, the sun had a ring around it; a bad sign that a storm was coming. Megan fanned the embers of her fire vigorously with a small palm leaf, but only generated smoke without any flames.

  Hearing a strange noise in the distance, she stood to look down the beach. A dark column rose in the air. What is that? Can’t be a campfire. It’s moving. Maybe another plane crashed and the burning wreckage is washing ashore? She dreaded another round of drowned bodies she would have to bury. Maybe I can use some of that fire to start mine?

  Her eyes got big when a boat rounded the far end of the island. Who is that? Fishermen? Wait, that boat looks familiar . . . could it be? Her eyes straining and heart beating faster. The forgotten palm leaf fluttered to the ground.

  Loping down the slope onto the beach, she waited for the boat to get closer. Someone waved to her, and in the distance she heard, “Cooee.”

  “Seth,” Megan called. “You did it! You fixed the boat!” She waved back, jumping up and down on the beach with laughter.

  The black smoke continued to billow from the back of the craft. Was the Dinki-Di on fire? No, the motor was bad. Seth said Bill had been trying to fix it. When he got closer, she saw Seth pulling hard at the steering wheel. The boat turned, heading out to sea.

  “What are you doing?” Megan yelled. “Are you leaving me now that you showed me you fixed it?” Tears welled in her eyes as she dropped to the sand. “You’re abandoning me just like Jonathan did. He untied the raft and sent me adrift. Is this your way of doing the same thing? Do you hate me, too?”

  Megan looked back to the ship. “Bye, Seth.” But the boat was pointed back at her. Oh, he wasn’t leaving at all. But what is he doing? He had his head out the side window as he watched something behind him. The waves were getting higher, the next one bigger yet while he idled the boat.

  She got an idea of what he attempted. No, that’s crazy. You can’t do that with a boat. Picking herself off the sand, she looked around. What is he aiming for? Then Megan saw the stream that usually piddled out into the sand. It drained from the waterfall pool, just above her campsite. The stream went past the cliff, then across the beach to empty into the ocean. With the recent storms, it chuckled happily, deep and full. It had even washed out the log she used for
a bridge.

  “Seth, don’t . . . it won’t . . . work,” Megan shouted as she waved her arms. “You’ll crash the boat.”

  Then she saw what Seth waited so patiently for, the mother of all waves. Its huge, dark shape blocked out the horizon. He turned forward and did something to the gears, then waved her out of the way.

  “It . . . won’t . . . work,” she shouted again.

  He waved again, but looked back. The wave kept rising; it lifted the boat.

  Was it a tsunami?

  Megan eyes got big as she swallowed hard. “Oh, hell, what do I know? Maybe you can surf a fishing boat.” I’ve got to get out of here. Those waves will break me apart like kindling. She took to her heels, down the beach then up a path to higher ground. Grabbing a branch, she climbed a stout tree and clung to it for dear life. I should be safe here and have a nice view of whatever Seth has in mind.

  From her vantage point, Megan watched the wave swell, towering behind the boat until it looked small against the dark water. When the wave surged forward, Seth jammed the gears. Smoke poured out of the boat, thicker than before, as the boat rode the wave’s crest toward the beach.

  She watched wide-eyed, fixed on the wave which made a thunderous crash. Water flowed up and down the beach, wetting Megan, still clinging to the tree. The boat catapulted onto the sand, sliding up the stream bed. Seth guided the old fishing boat with the force of the wave, coasted it next to her campsite just as if he was bringing it into its home slip at a marina.

  Running and laughing, Megan headed back down the beach, splashing through the retreating water. “You did it! You did it! You big crazy, Aussie.” She ran to her campsite as the boat tipped sideways. Leaning against the short cliff, the Dinki-Di seemed to sigh with relief.

  With one hand against the tree which bordered the cliff, Megan searched the boat, but didn’t see Seth. Then she heard an odd, loud shush noise, as a cloud of white billowed from the back end of the boat and turned the black smoke gray.