In His Eyes. Gail Martin Gaymer

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In His Eyes - Gail Martin Gaymer


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the fireplace while glowing embers sprinkled from the grate onto the hearth.

      “You can plan all you want, Connor,” his aunt said, “but if the good Lord wants you living on the island, that’s where you’ll be.”

      Connor scooted past her and whispered in Ellene’s ear as he headed for the stove. “If the good Lord or Aunt Phyllis wants it. That’s why I was keeping mum…until I was positive.”

      “Sorry, Ellene said. But she couldn’t help but grin, hearing the woman putting Connor in his place. “I suppose I’d better—”

      “Something smells good.” Phyllis turned toward the stove and leaned around Connor’s back to look into the pan. “Goulash. I haven’t had that in a long time.”

      “You’re welcome to join us.”

      “I wouldn’t be in the way?” She looked at Ellene as if asking her.

      “You’re not in the way,” Connor said. “You’re always welcome to eat with us when we’re here.”

      “I wasn’t worried about you,” Phyllis said. “I was asking Ellene.”

      Ellene pressed her hand against her chest. “Me?”

      Phyllis nodded. “You’re the guest here.”

      “But I’m leaving. I was just getting my things together.”

      Phyllis tilted her head to the side, a wry look on her face. “Leaving?”

      “I’m heading home,” Ellene said again.

      Phyllis broke into a chuckle. “You’re not going anywhere.”

      “I’m not?”

      “That’s what I came over to tell you. The ice is jammed tighter than a jar of pickles. You’re not getting off this island tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow from what I hear.”

      Chapter Four

      Connor watched Ellene’s expression droop. “It happens in winter, Ellene.”

      “It happens? You mean you live here with all these unexpected events—no ferry service, no electricity, no… I can’t imagine wanting—”

      “It’s an adventure,” Connor said, trying to stop her before Caitlin joined in the cry of not wanting to live on the island, either.

      “You call this an adventure?” Ellene asked.

      Connor drew Caitlin closer to his side. “We like adventures, don’t we? We’ve had times we just climbed into the car and drove off. No destination. Just looking for adventure. Then we’d end up—”

      “At the cider mill,” Caitlin said, “and one time the fair. I like surprises.”

      Ellene’s eyelids lowered as if she realized what she’d almost done. “Surprises are fun,” she said, as if finally understanding Connor’s concern. “But I really need to get home. That’s not the surprise I was hoping for. Isn’t there something they do to keep the ice from freezing at the ferry landing?”

      Connor realized she was trying to sound upbeat, but he saw the look in her eyes. “Of course, they try, but nature is nature.”

      “They must do something?”

      Aunt Phyllis chuckled. “The coast guard brings in the Bramble to see what she can do.”

      “Coast guard?” Ellene gave a fleeting look toward Connor, then turned her attention to Aunt Phyllis. “What’s the Bramble?”

      “The coast guard cutter,” Connor said.

      She looked befuddled. “Are you kidding?”

      “No. The Bramble breaks up the ice, but once the thaw begins they have a big job keeping the ice from packing against the shoreline. The ice jam not only halts the ferry service, but it stops the freighters’ access through the channel into the lake.”

      “They can’t expect people to be stranded here forever.”

      Aunt Phyllis moved closer and patted Ellene’s shoulder. “Not forever, dear. Only heaven is forever. It lasts a few hours or a few days.” She gave Ellene’s shoulder another pat. “Sometimes two or three weeks at the most.”

      Ellene’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

      “No, she’s not,” Connor said. “If it lasts too long, the coast guard flies in emergency helicopters to give those in need access to the mainland for food or illness. We couldn’t live on the island without the coast guard.”

      Ellene lifted her computer case from the table. “I need to get home, so I’ll have to take my chances, I guess. I’ll drive down there and wait.”

      Aunt Phyllis shook her head. “It could be a long wait. Why not wait here? Connor can call the ferry and check.”

      “Thanks, but I’d rather see for myself.”

      Pulling her cheek away from a chair back where she’d been listening, Caitlin rose and moved closer. “We could play games.”

      Ellene faced her with a sympathetic grin. “I’d love to play games, but not tonight.”

      Caitlin’s expectant look fell. She plopped into a chair and lowered her head as if she’d been personally rejected.

      Connor opened his mouth to say more, but he gave up. Ellene had always been one of the most obstinate women he’d ever met. Today was proof. “If it’s hopeless, come back, will you?”

      She slipped her arms into her jacket, flipped her dark hair over the collar and buttoned it. “I have confidence in the coast guard.”

      His shoulders sagged with her ridiculous comment. Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn. “Fine. Let me know when you have some plans ready, okay?”

      “Sure,” she said, grasping her laptop handle. “So nice to see you, Aunt Phyllis,” she said, giving the woman a hug. “And Caitlin, I really enjoyed meeting you.”

      Caitlin lifted her gaze and shrugged her shoulder.

      “I’ll be in touch,” she said, turning the doorknob and stepping outside.

      The cold wind whipped through the open door, then vanished as she closed it.

      Connor stared at the door a moment, waiting for it to reopen and Ellene to come back, but she didn’t. When he turned around, his aunt Phyllis was shaking her head.

      “Bullheaded, isn’t she?

      Connor couldn’t help but smile. “She has her moments, but she’s a wonderful woman on good days.”

      “Why wouldn’t she stay, Daddy?” Caitlin whined from her slouched pose on the chair, her arms folded across her chest.

      “She has her reasons, Caitlin.” He started to say he didn’t know, but he did. Ellene couldn’t let go of the past. He hadn’t, either, not for many years.

      “What reasons?”

      “Caitlin, we don’t always get our way. Sometimes people have their own plans.” He glanced at his aunt and arched a brow. “And Ellene definitely has her own.”

      “For better or worse,” Aunt Phyllis said.

      For better or worse? Connor studied his aunt’s expression, observing a sly grin that he recognized from her days of trying to play matchmaker for him.

      “Don’t push it, Aunt Phyllis,” he said, grinning back. “I can always uninvite you to dinner.”

      Her grin faded. Then she recouped and laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

      Connor arched a brow and didn’t answer.

      Her jaw set in determination, Ellene pulled away from Connor’s house and headed


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