EDGE (23 page)

“Mind if we find a place to sit down?” Cache rubbed his leg and hip and Mel noticed the man had forgotten his cane too.

She studied him, noticing the hardening of his jaw as he fought the pain he was in. She motioned to the drift log farther up the beach that had washed up to the high tide mark. She walked, reining in her erratic emotions, while Cache hobbled over to it. He gave a grateful sigh of relief once seated, stretching out his leg.

“Thanks,” he said.

Mel sat next to him and waited, and waited. Finally, she turned toward him. He was gazing out over the cove, his face serene. Not the face of a coward taunting her with things of the past. She glanced at what had his attention.

Smooth water with just the barest of waves crept at the black sand beach. Green fjords towered on the edges, visually caging them in. She could just barely see Kachemak Bay beyond. For the first time, she felt trapped.

“You wanted to talk to me,” she prompted, needing to be alone. To think, to plan.

“I have a proposition for you.” He paused as if searching for the right words.

As long as she’d known him—granted it hadn’t been long—the man had no trouble saying what was on his mind. “What proposition?”

“I don’t want to leave next week. Coming here has been…I don’t know how to explain it. To say it has changed my life sounds like a cliché, but it has. I feel better here, as though this place has some magical healing powers.”

She understood that. It was also one of the reasons she’d never left.

“I’d like to extend my stay. I can’t remember the last time that I’ve felt…like I needed to be someplace.”

“What about your job?” What about her? Did this have anything to do with feelings he might have for her?

“Job’s history.” He rubbed his leg. “I don’t belong in New York. Never did. I don’t know where I belong yet, but I’d like the time here to figure it out.”

Who could afford to leave a job without another one lined up? Wasn’t her business to ask. “How long are we talking?”

“A month. Maybe longer.”

Hell’s bells. How would she be able to stay out of his bed for an entire month?

Simple. She could refuse his request. He’d be gone in a week, and she would have the summer free of him and all the feelings—thrilling or otherwise—he’d brought out in her.

Summer dawned bleak and lonely at the thought. She liked having him around. She just had to make sure she didn’t get too comfortable with him on The Edge.

He took her hand in his and looked deep into her eyes.

“Mel, there’s something between us. Wouldn’t we both be remiss if we let the opportunity pass us by?”

She sucked in a breath. Did she try to swim in the deep end or continue to wade in waters where she could still touch the bottom?

“I don’t know, Cache. I need to think about this and talk it over with Linnet.”

He sat back and nodded. She could tell he was trying to hide his disappointment and she wanted to tell him no problem, he could stay for as long as he liked. Reason, thankfully, raised its head. She needed to do the very things she’d said before she agreed or disagreed.

“Just so you know, I’m prepared to pay above your going rate to stay longer. Even if you have to put me in the bunk house with Sergei.” He stood. “I’ll be waiting to hear what you and Linnet decide.” He struggled to his feet and left her alone with her thoughts.

She waited until he was almost to the lodge before she returned to the place where the name had been written in the sand, only to find the incoming tide had come in and washed any evidence of the
AnnaMarias
away.

Talking Cache’s proposition over with Linnet had been easy. Linnet looked at Mel with her hands on her hips and said, “What’s to think about?”

“Where are we going to put him?” Mel asked, taking a seat on the settee. “The lodge is booked for the summer.”

“Keep him where he is. We don’t normally rent out that room anyway. Remember, you don’t like anyone across the hall from you.” Linnet whipped the towel from her shoulder and hung it over the oven handle, having just finished the dishes.

She didn’t want Cache across the hall from her all summer either.

Unfortunately, Linnet knew how to read her. “Oh-ho. So that’s the problem, is it?” She waved her hand as though to disregard the question. “Well, girl, you’ve got taste, I’ll say that for you.” She studied Mel for a minute, narrowing her sharp eyes. “If you have a thing for the man, what’s the problem with him staying longer?”

“I don’t want to have a thing for the man. If he leaves when he’s scheduled, then this ‘thing’ will leave too.”

“No it won’t. It will stay and claw away at you. Better to let the fire burn itself out than never to feel the heat.” A calculating look entered her eyes. “You know this could be something we could offer. Instead of just a two week vacation, we could rent out for the summer. Maybe I should put that into the projection when we expand.”

Damn. Linnet was still thinking of adding on to the place. Mel had to figure a way for that not to happen. When she next saw Ramsey, she had some of her own words to say.

“That settles it. The man’s staying. We’ll have to adjust the food stores and up the supplies. Which reminds me. We’re missing food. Nicole baked bread yesterday and out of six loaves there are only three left. We used one, but that leaves two unaccounted for.”

“Guests help themselves to the pantry all the time. We have an open kitchen.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to eat two loaves of bread? The leftovers are disappearing too. There was enough crab the other night to do omelets the next morning but when I went to make them the crab was all gone. Including the dish it was in. I searched with Emily when I was showing her how to correctly make up the beds. No sign of the dish anywhere. I talked to Nicole and she’s been noticing things walking away on their own too. It’s like we have a thief in the night.”

“Or poachers.” She filled Linnet in on what she had found and that she’d turned the information over for Garrett to handle. “Maybe we should lock the doors at night.”

“Those old things wouldn’t keep anyone out. Why would poachers sneak in here for food? They’re most liking catching it themselves.”

Linnet was right. They probably had a guest with a huge appetite. Maybe Tom was a closet eater. It made better sense than the alternative.

A thief who peeps in windows, writes on mirrors, and scrawls in the sand?

Jedidiah Dawson had screamed at her as they dragged him away to prison that she would never be free of him.

She’d been in Alaska long enough to believe in the supernatural. The Northern Lights, alone, had nonbelievers believing.

Could Jedidiah’s ghost be haunting her?

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over man; rather, she is to remain quiet.

~1 TIMOTHY 2:12

Early the next morning they left the Edge to set a course for Homer, for a day of wandering and exploring the unique fishing village known, to much of Alaska, as the halibut capital of the world.

They reached the Homer Spit, a jetty of land that jutted more than four miles into Kachemak Bay, and disembarked at the marina. Everyone disbursed to go their separate ways with the day to explore the many shops, galleries, museums and the one-of-a-kind Alaskan bars.

Nicole, David, and the three teenagers planned to start at the museum. The Whitneys were playing tourist, starting with shopping the many unique stores flanking the Spit. Linnet had many friends she liked to visit with when in town, while Sergei, after storing away the supplies they needed, usually visited the Russian village not far from Homer.

That left Tom and Cache. Mel had no idea what they’d planned. Besides, she had her own list of chores to take care of. She needed to speak to Mike, the man she’d hired to update the changes needed for The Edge of Reason’s web page. A quick visit to the vet for Rinka, and then lunch at the Salty Dawg Saloon would round out her visit. Mel’s mouth watered just thinking of the halibut fish-and-chips she would order for lunch.

She let everyone know where she’d be lunching in case problems arose, but for the first time in days, she was on her own. They planned to meet at the boat later that afternoon for the return trip back to The Edge.

Cache and Tom hitched a ride with Linnet, who kept an SUV parked at the dock. She dropped them off in the heart of the business district—all two blocks of it. Cache had a spring in his hobbled step as they made their way to the bank. Just knowing that Mel had approved his extended stay had silenced some of the pain tormenting him.

He knew Mel had reservations about letting him stay on, and with good reason. She was going to hate him when she found out who he really was. He couldn’t put that off any longer. Especially, with her going out of her way to find room for him. Yes, he could’ve stayed in Homer—found a small cabin to heal out the summer, but it was The Edge that called to him. As much as Mel did.

Cache chuckled at the size of the hometown bank. Two tellers staffed the counter. He walked up to a middle-aged woman with dark skin, a round body and face to match. She was of Native Alaskan descent and he suddenly wanted to ask her all sorts of questions. She welcomed him with a smile and asked what she could do for him. It was only a greeting but Cache couldn’t help make the comparison between his bustling bank in New York and the laid-back bank in Alaska. Again, he wondered how he’d lived in the city so long.

“You really staying
here
?” Tom asked after Cache told the teller what he needed.

“Yep.”

“What about your job? After this trip, we’d planned to send you to Africa. There’s a hot spot developing in the Congo.”

“Hell. No way, Tom. In fact, you’re the first to know that when I get back to New York, I’m quitting.”

Tom’s head swung around like a startled owl. “You can’t quit.”

“Yes, I can.” He took the cash from the teller—more than enough to cover his extended stay—and then asked her for directions to a pay phone. He hadn’t unpacked his cell phone since he’d landed in Alaska. The teller indicated one at the Chamber of Commerce, which was just around the corner from the bank. Man, he was beginning to see the benefits of a small town.

A stuttering Tom followed him out of the bank. “B-but…the magazine needs you.”

“I don’t have it in me anymore, Tom.”

“What about the story on Mel?”

“Like I said, if she agrees, I’ll do it. It’ll be my last.” Her story had started his career twenty years ago. It seemed fitting her story would be the one to end it.

Tom stood in the middle of the wooden sidewalk, dumbstruck. “You really are quitting?”

“This job is sucking me dry. I need to do other things.”

“Wow, the famous C.S. Calder quitting. The starched shirts aren’t going to like this.” Tom put his hands in his pockets, and with shoulders hunched, fell in line with Cache as they walked down the sidewalk.

Cache didn’t care. For once in his life, he would be free to travel or stay home. Wherever home was. He was beginning to think that home was where Mel was.

They reached the Chamber of Commerce, and Cache found a pay phone where he called work and explained to the starched shirts what he had planned, while Tom stood as though he had no clue what he was going to do next.