“I’m retired,” he said flatly.
There was an awkward silence at the table. Then he surprised Joanna by spilling the tea. “I was a lieutenant colonel in the British navy during the war. Then I worked in commercial shipping.”
Joanna could have added that he had seen combat in World War II, had survived two shipwrecks in his later career—including one on these very shores—and had gone on to consult for a global shipbuilding enterprise, where he worked with engineers and designers to improve safety features in every aspect of marine travel.
Bill reached for a second roll and buttered it. “I had a feeling you knew something about the clouds,” he said. “You knew what was coming.”
Oliver was too humble to say yes, so Joanna answered for him. “He did. So I wasn’t shocked when you said we couldn’t leave tonight.”
Denise sat back in her chair. “Mrs. Dalrymple looked like she was going to pass out.”
Everyone at the table chuckled.
Joanna took the last bite of her spaghetti, then glanced across the table at Garrett. Their eyes met, and she held his gaze and smiled.
Oliver raised his glass. “Let’s make a toast. Thanks to our pilots for putting safety first, and to our hosts, for providing this delicious meal.”
“Cheers to that,” Denise said.
They all clinked glasses.
“Let’s also drink to clear skies in the morning,” Darren added. “And hope the universe is listening.”
Joanna and her grandfather shared a look of amusement.
Chapter 36
Joanna couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the mattress. The springs were digging into her hips. How old was this thing? For all she knew, it could have been the very bed her grandfather slept on in Abigail McKenna’s sickroom in 1946.
But Joanna wouldn’t dare complain. Here she was, spending an extra day on the island of her grandfather’s most profound spiritual experience, or at least she liked to think of it that way. He might have other ideas, having survived a war and two shipwrecks.
She finally gave up tossing and turning, rose from the uncomfortable bed, pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt, and ventured downstairs.
The house was dark, and she shivered a little before she switched on a lamp by the sofa near the brick fireplace. Golden light enveloped the room and reflected off raindrops on the windowpane.
She glanced around and wondered what to do with herself at two o’clock in the morning. If only she’d brought a book to read. Then her attention fell on a deck of cards on the fireplace mantel, so she decided that a game of solitaire would be the perfect diversion on a stormy night on a remote island. All she needed was a cup of tea to help her relax. Perhaps they had some in the kitchen.
She moved to the sink, switched on another light, and riffled through a few cupboards, careful not to slam doors and wake others inthe house. She found a box of Red Rose tea. It was not a brand familiar to her, but when in Rome ...
Joanna spotted an electric kettle, filled it with water, and plugged it in. She had just leaned back against the counter to wait when a gust of wind shook the house and the back door was ripped open. With a fright, Joanna pushed away from the counter and looked hard at the unexpected visitor.
It was Garrett, and she relaxed.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, lowering the hood of his yellow rain slicker. “I saw the light on.”
“It’s fine,” she replied. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake anyone, but I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I.” He closed the inner door behind him. “This is the worst storm we’ve had in a while, and I didn’t see it coming. We don’t usually have guests, so I’m a bit on edge.”
“We’re all fine,” she assured him. “I’d much rather be here than up there, in the sky, getting struck by lightning.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He unzipped his raincoat. “It’s never fun when the coast guard gets involved. Do you mind if I hang out here for a bit?”
“Fill your boots,” she replied. “I was just making some tea. Fancy a cuppa?”
“I shouldn’t. It would probably keep me up.”
“But you’re already up,” she replied with a grin.
