They putted away from the pier and down a waterway between moored boats and ships, most belonging to the Royal Navy. As soon as they were clear of other vessels, Malcolm upped their speed and the rough vibration of the deck boards settled into a pleasant, tingling throb.
“Och, my stomach’s all aflutter,” Maggie said. “I haven’t been home in almost four years.” She looked up at the sky. “’Tis already starting to clear. Before long you can sit in your chair. We’ll be passing through the sound and you’ll get a guid view of Mull.”
“Mull?”
“’Tis one of the Inner Hebrides Isles. Later, we’ll catch a glimpse of Tiree, which has a large RAF airbase now, and see the shore of Coll off the starboard. After that ’tis open sea all the way to Innisbraw.”
“I didn’t know about the airbase on Tiree, but I have heard of the one at Benbecula. The Brits vector a lot of our planes there. Will we pass that?”
“Och, no, that’s many islands north of Innisbraw which is at the verra southern-most tip of the Outer Hebrides.”
He covered a yawn. “I have a feeling I’m going to desert you again.”
“Don’t fash—upset yourself. You look like you didn’t sleep well last night. Close your eyes and drift off.”
***
He awakened.
Maggie sat beside him, shielding his face from the sun with a towel.
“Good morning,” he said. “Again.”
“Guid-mornin again to you.”
“Is it time to sit up yet? My back’s as numb as my bottom.”
“Och, of course it is.”
Getting Rob from the stretcher lying on the deck up into the wheelchair proved difficult. Sim was not strong enough and Rob wouldn’t allow Maggie to do any of the lifting, so the lad was finally ordered in to handle the helm, while Malcolm lifted Rob outright and placed him in the chair.
Rob was so embarrassed he could scarcely face the skipper. “Sorry about that,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m way too heavy.”
“Don’t think a thing of it,” Malcolm said. “I’ve lifted heavier before.”
“When?”
“When I’ve had a load of fish I didn’t want to lose, dangling over the sea in a snarled net.”
“Well, thanks.”
“My pleasure. Now, I’d better get back to the helm, for the lad’s green. Don’t want him running us onto the rocks.”
Rob gritted his teeth. He hadn’t had to rely on so many people since he was an infant.
A large British warship blasted its horn at the Sea Rouk as it passed to their starboard, decks filled with busy seamen.
Here I am, flat on my back, while my men suck oxygen high over France. This is so blasted frustrating.
Maggie held his shoulder as the trawler rocked violently in the large ship’s wake. “That’s a common sight in the sound now, so don’t let it fash you.” She waited until the rocking steadied before placing a blanket over his shoulders and pushing the wheelchair toward the port side. “The view’s the best from here.” She locked the brakes and pointed. “That’s Mull.”
He glanced up. “Nice,” he grunted.
She pulled the crate closer. “Don’t take all this to heart. You’re so impatient. Soon, you’ll be doing for yourself again and all this will only be a memory.”
“An unpleasant memory.”
She took his hand. “Do you realize how far you’ve come in one month? Just three weeks ago you couldn’t even move your toes.”
“A lot of good a few inches—centimetres—does,” he muttered. The internal battle he fought tore him apart. He never shared his innermost fears, and yet the urge to do so was overwhelming. He swallowed convulsively. He was about to go against his own tenet for survival. “I’m ... I’m not so sure things will turn out the way we want.”
“Remember, it takes time for nerves to heal.”
He could not stop himself now. “If they heal.”
She grasped his hand. “Och, you cannot allow yourself to think that way, for if you do, you’ll only be sabotaging your future. First, you have to pray, and then you have to believe and work, and work some more to make it happen. If you give up now, you’ll only fulfill your worst fears.”
“It’s not the work.”
“Is it the pain? I know how much those exercises hurt.”
“Not the pain. I’ve always believed anything worth having comes at a price.”
“Then what is it, if it’s no’ the work or the pain?”
He was silent for a long time, mind racing. This was the moment to either shut up or bare his soul. But if he couldn’t trust Maggie to handle it, whom could he trust? He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel like a conceited jerk thinking I deserve to walk again. What makes me so special?”
“What have you ever done to condemn yourself to never walking again?”
“I’m no angel.”
“None of us are.”
“You’re a saint compared to me.”
“You don’t know what’s deep in my soul any more than I know what’s in yours.” She looked down at him with her eyes navy blue. “You once told me you don’t like making idle conversation, that it makes you uncomfortable. I’m thinking you find it much harder to share your innermost thoughts.”
Could she see through him?
She turned and walked away a few paces, then whirled about, wrapping her arms around her body as though the brisk wind had given her a sudden chill. “I never knew you were so afraid of the operation turning out badly because you never told me. I’ve been with you all day, every day for weeks since your operation and you never once said, ‘I’m afraid,’ or ‘Hold me and tell me why you believe everything will work out well.’ Who or what has hurt you so badly you cannot allow anyone a glimpse of the real you?”
He dropped his head and closed his eyes, unable to reply.
Her hands covered his. “Please don’t go away from me again, for I can’t stand it when you do that. It’s as if you don’t care enough, or trust me enough, to tell me what you’re really thinking.”
“It’s not you, it’s me. I have a problem with relating to others. I’ve told you that.”
“You have that.”
“There’s no one I trust more.”
“Then, unless you want to miss all of Mull, you’d better start paying attention.” She pointed again. “We just passed the small buoy lighthouse marking the entrance to the harbor at Tobermory, the westernmost village on the island. There’s also a large naval base there.”
He took a deep breath and studied the island. “Lots of mountains and trees on Mull. Is Innisbraw like that?”
“Och, no,” she said. “Mull’s a verra large island with room for bens and great rushing burns and some fine fresh water lochs and many sea lochs. Innisbraw’s so wee you cannot compare them.”
“What’s a ben?”
“’Tis a mountain.”
“And a burn?”
“A stream, or even a wee river.”
“So there are no mountains on Innisbraw?”
“There are a few braes and hillocks. One, Ben Innis, is verra tall—twelve hundred sixty metres—and there are several fells. High rocky cliffs.”
“Any lochs?”
“We have one fine fresh water loch, Loch Domhnall—Donald. ’Tis where we get our drinking water. Innisbraw’s three large fells take up much of the shore, so though there are inlets, there are only twa small sea lochs.”
“No forests?”
“Och, no, but there are a few trees.” She hesitated. “Innisbraw’s no’ like Mull at all.”
He had to know. “Then what makes it so special?”
She was silent for a long time. When she spoke, he caught a sparkle of tears in her eyes before she turned to face the west. “’Tis home. ’Tis the long, bent, marram grasses waving in the wind, the splattering burns with their low-hanging greenwood, the heather sending its scent through the air and wildflowers everywhere you look. ’Tis the crofts with
their thatched cottages and peat piles, and the sky as big as the world, and living in a place where you’re surrounded by the sea sooking on the shore day and night.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “’Tis the finest folk in the world calling a ‘guid-mornin’ to you on their way and knowing that you belong there and that everyone else on that wee piece of land feels the same way. And perhaps most of all, ’tis our minister, Hugh MacEwan, teaching in the kirk what it means to love God first so you can love one another. That’s only a bit of what Innisbraw is to me.” She pierced him with her eyes.
His heart beat wildly.
“I’m sure you feel the same way about your own home in America.”
His throat constricted. “Don’t have a home.”
“You don’t have a home? What does that mean?”
“Grew up in New Hampshire.” He could read the question in her eyes. “On the eastern coast of the States,” he added, his voice sounding strangled, even to his own ears.
“And?”
“That’s all. Went off to West Point when I was seventeen. Haven’t been back.”
“Rob!”
She looked so shocked, he felt ashamed. Another secret from his past he hadn’t shared. He’d dug a hole this time and was already in it up to his neck. He drew a ragged breath. “Never had time. From the Point I went directly to Cadet Flight Training at Randolph Field in Texas.”
“But they surely gave you leave at some time. What about your parents? Did they have to come find you for a visit?”
A chill crept over his body. “Don’t ask about that.”
“They must be verra painful memories.”
Why couldn’t she just let it go? This was something he had never shared with anyone. No one knew he was completely alone in the world, not even Den. For all of his adult life he pushed the painful memories to the back of his mind where they could not hurt so badly. His mouth tasted bitter. “I’m sorry, but this is something I’m not ready to talk about. It has nothing to do with you.”
She was quiet for a time. “That’s all right. Perhaps I’m expecting more of you than I have a right to.” Though she smiled and raised her chin, she was upset. “I can understand you no’ wanting my pity,” she said very softly. “After all, you’re a proud man.” She leaned over and cupped his chin in her hand, forcing him to look up at her. “But what about friendship? Will you finally accept that?”
After all he had put her through, how could she possibly make such an offer? He rubbed the side of his nose. “A man would be a fool to turn down an offer like that.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Will you really be my friend, Maggie McGrath?”
Her smile was radiant. “Aye, Rob Savage. I’ll be your friend.”
He returned her smile. His entire body grew light, like he could float right out of the chair. Forget Doctor McGrath and the promises he’d made. He had never felt so good in his entire life. Her mouth looked so sweet. He wanted to kiss her so badly, wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her body pressed against his, wanted to taste her, to inhale her very essence.
A sudden image of the doctor passed before his eyes and he couldn’t have been more shocked if someone had thrown him into the sea. Don’t hurt my daughter. She’s led a sheltered life.
It was too much. His weakened body could no longer handle so many emotional extremes. First, he’d hurt Maggie and then he’d almost betrayed a trust. He groaned and shook his head. “Guess the sun’s too much,” he gasped. “I’m getting dizzy.”
She leaped to her feet. “Malcolm, come out here. I need your help.”
***
Rob fell into a troubled sleep peopled with amorphous beings who danced away on beams of pulsating light, chanting, “We belong, we belong.” He reached out time and time again, but they were always just beyond his grasp. Finally, they flickered and died. He grieved to see them go.
The next image stunned him with its clarity. The Selkie and her crofter ran through the shallow surf, bare feet churning the dying waves into foam. The Selkie’s long, black hair caught the sun, glistening like rain-slicked tarmac as she smiled up at her companion. He laughed and pulled her up the sand, leading her toward a dark opening in a small rise of stone. Rob raced after them, but every time he drew close, they receded farther away. As hard as he ran, they were always just out of reach.
***
Maggie watched him sleep, her mind teeming with conflicting thoughts. She had never met a man like Rob Savage. He was so complex she seldom knew what to expect. She poured a cup of tea from the thermos, sipping it slowly. Nothing in her twenty-two years had prepared her for a close friendship with a man older than herself. Rob was no callow lad like those young aviators who had taken her to the cinema in London and gripped her hand with sweaty fingers. And what if it turned into more than friendship?
He moaned and moved his head from side to side.
What filled his dreams—his last dreadful bombing mission, or some painful memory from his past?
She placed her hand over his, hoping to bring him comfort.
***
He awakened, bathed in sweat. Maggie’s face swam into view. When he reached out to touch her, she clasped his hand.
“I’m here, Rob.” She blotted his forehead. “You’ve slept for hours. How do you feel?”
He shook his head. “Weird dreams,” he whispered.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No more than usual.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Don’t think so.”
“How about a cup of tea? I’m sorry, but there was no way to make coffee at the cottage.”
“Sounds good.” He shook his head to clear the cobwebs.
“I thought you hated tea.”
Her surprise tickled him and he couldn’t help but smile. His Selkie. Once he was settled on Innisbraw, he’d ask for the rest of the story. His skin tingled in anticipation,
She reached for a thermos. “I also have sandwiches I made this mornin, and scones I brought in this basket from the infirmary.”
At that moment, Rob Savage did what he always did when faced with an uncomfortable situation. He pushed all of the previous unpleasantness into the back of his mind, placing it into a compartment labeled “Do Not Touch,” and then relaxed. Things appeared to be back on an even keel between them and friendship was safe. He suddenly realized he was famished. “Bring it on. I could eat a horse.”
She rummaged in the basket. “No horses. Only cheese and pickle sandwiches and sweet scones.”
After he had eaten three of the sandwiches and finished off the scones, he looked up at the sky. “What time is it, anyway? Hope you packed my watch. I feel naked without it.”
She checked her watch. “Almost 1600.”
“I slept that long?”
“Aye. The sun must have been too much.”
“We must be almost there.”
“We are.”
“Then, what are you doing here? Go on up to the bow. I want you to call out, ‘land-ho,’ or whatever it is they say, the minute you see land.”
Her laugh was so girlish, he was sure he felt his heart turn over. “All right. Land-ho. Is that it?”
“Aye, lass, that’s it.” He winked at her. “As you always say, ‘on you go then.’”
When she disappeared from view, he sighed and stared up at the sky. What was so special about Maggie that she took his breath away? Oh, she was definitely beautiful. The first truly beautiful woman he had ever seen who neither needed, nor wore, face-paint. Her cheeks and lips were naturally rosy, her brows expressive and her smile would fill an angel with envy. Yet, it went far beyond her physical beauty. Her voice with its soft burr was so comforting he could listen to her talk for hours. There was something so genuine about her, so unpretentious. She was kind, she was trusting, she had a bit of a temper when pushed too hard, and she was real. She had no need to put on airs.
He was the exact opposite. He carried enough emotional bag
gage to fill a proverbial freight car. He seldom faced unpleasantness. Instead, he played games with himself; hide this, reveal that—no, not that, it might show how vulnerable you are. Who was he truly? A hard worker, he tried to be as honest as possible and he felt a deep commitment to anybody under his command, but everything else lay shrouded in the ambiguity he had made of his life.
The hour of reckoning was near; he would soon get his first glimpse of Innisbraw. If he hated it on first sight, that would put a stop to his foolish fantasies. His hands clenched at an unbidden thought.
Maggie had only three months on Innisbraw. Even if he did eventually walk, once she reported back to duty, they would probably never see one another again. Could he ever find another woman like her, or was she unique? Would he become one of those lonely, acerbic old generals who were married to the Air Forces and went home every evening to an empty apartment—an empty life? He envied the love in Maggie’s eyes when she spoke of her “wee” island. How would it feel to be so committed to a piece of real estate and those who peopled it? His apprehension made each breath a struggle.
CHAPTER 11
“Land ho! Innisbraw!”
Maggie’s excited shout sent Rob’s stomach plummeting. Eagerness at seeing the island disappeared beneath the thought of another humiliating transfer to the wheelchair. That piece of shrapnel had robbed him of more than the ability to walk. Feels like I’m on a roller coaster with an incompetent idiot at the controls.
Maggie skirted the wheelhouse. “Och, Rob, I have to get Malcolm so he can put you in your wheelchair. This is something you cannot miss—your first glimpse of Innisbraw.”
“Makes no sense. Sim docking this boat would be as foolish as my radioman trying to land my B-17.”
The sparkle left her eyes. She knelt beside him, taking his hand. “Then I’ll have to tell you what you’re missing so you can picture it in your mind.”
“Paint me a picture with your words, Maggie.”
“There’s Ben Innis thrusting its broad shoulders above everything, already covered with light green shoots of heather, and the waves breaking on Innis Fell, blowing spindrift in billowing clouds high up onto the rocks.” She squeezed his hand. “And though the tide’s almost in, what you can see of the shore is glistening with a million points of light from the sun.”
“Did you see your house?”
“Only a glimpse of one end of its thatched roof, for ’tis on the top of Innis Fell, just above the harbour.” Her face glowed. “I could see the infirmary much better. It hides most of our wee cottage.”