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***
Even with the warm dog clutched to her and her windbreaker zipped to her neck, Sarah shivered in the stiff breeze. The wind drove the rain sideways and the force of it stung her skin. The storm howled around her, and the lightning and thunder crashed overhead.
The dog cried and she tried to soothe him, but she was as terrified as he was. “It’s okay, boy,” she murmured over and over.
All they could do was wait out the storm. If there was a silver lining, it was that the men were unlikely to be out here searching for her. And if the rain had descended soon enough, they might not have noticed the kayak missing.
The kayak!
She hadn’t thought about whether its hiding place was safe from the huge waves rolling high up on the sand and rocks. Peering through the curtain of rain, she tried to trace the outlines of the boat, but it was impossible to see. She didn’t dare try to feel her way to the boat in case the incoming waves overtook her and carried her out into the lake. No one could last long in those cold waves.
If only she’d sought better shelter for her and the dog. She scooted farther away from the waves, but her back was up against an outcropping of rocks. What if she stacked the rocks and tried to build at least a partial shelter? The thought of letting go ofthe warm dog didn’t appeal to her, but lifting stones would soon warm up her muscles. And if she was able to make a windbreak, it would be worth freezing for a bit.
She pushed the dog off her lap and got onto her hands and knees. Tugging at the rocks, she managed to get one loose, but several more tumbled down the slope toward her. One slammed into her leg, and she cried out.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
As she moved back toward the dog, her hand touched something slick. She picked it up and gasped. A blue tarp. It might not be a rock shelter, but it would keep the rain and wind off them. Allocating some space for her and Scout to slip into, she weighted down the corners with rocks.
Sarah crawled in first, then lifted the tarp above her head with one hand and coaxed the dog to join her. “Come on, boy. Come here.”
His ears flattened, and he crawled on his belly to join her. She put her arms around his wet fur and pulled him close, then let the tarp settle around them. The instant warmth was heaven. Resting her chin on the dog, she closed her eyes. With little sleep last night, she was exhausted from fighting the kayak for so long to get here. Every minute had been a struggle.
When she woke again, she felt deliciously toasty and content. The torrential rains had slowed to a drizzle. She sat up and licked dry lips, and she was ravenous. The thought of bringing food and water hadn’t crossed her mind. A person could go without food for days, but water was another story. Was there a source of water on the island? Did she dare drink the lake water if things became desperate?
She was already feeling rising despair about her situation.After pushing back the tarp, she looked out on her surroundings. Rivulets of water ran from nearly every surface, and puddles formed in mud indentations. If only she had some kind of clean container to catch rainwater. She doubted there would be any fresh spring or good source of drinking water. Superior was supposed to be the cleanest, most pristine water around. Would it be safe to drink?
She might have to find out.
Her body was stiff from sleeping on the rocky ground, and she groaned as she stood and stretched. The highest point on the island was behind her, so she trekked up the rocky slope until she stood where she could see everything. As she suspected, there was no stream. No food. Nothing but trees, rocks, and mud. Wait, where was the kayak?
Panic struck when she studied the area until she glimpsed the bow of the boat peeking out from a bush. At least it was still where she’d hidden it.
Her gaze went back to the water. The rolling breakers and troughs out on the surface terrified her. She was too poor at navigating the kayak to believe she could brave Lake Superior during a gale and survive the journey. The whole space disoriented her too. Which way had she come from and which direction was the mainland? She could no longer tell. There was nothing on the horizon anywhere to orient her.
She tore her gaze from the water to try to decide what to do until she had to make the hard decisions on which way to row. The felled trees might make a better shelter than she had already, and she could cover them with the tarp. The branches would soften the ground. It was a start.
Energized by the thought of at least doing something, shewent toward the grove of trees. Her muscles warmed to the task, and she managed to drag small felled trees into place. She gathered branches and laid them out over the hard ground, then retrieved the tarp. Once it was secured, she crawled inside and sat in her new temporary abode.
It was pretty good, and she wasn’t sure how she’d managed to do it by herself. For the first time she thought she might be strong enough to survive this. Maybe.
Twenty-Six
The house was in worse shape than Jon expected. The 1884 structure was sound with a dry basement and a good roof, but the inside was another story. He tried to hide his dismay at the cabinets that were new when Jimmy Carter was president and the way someone had dared to paint the quarter-sawn oak woodwork. The two bathrooms had spongy underlayment from leaky toilets, and every piece of hardwood flooring would have to be refinished.
The place reeked of old, wet wood, yet in spite of the storm raging outside, it felt safe and dry inside.
He finally dared a glance at Annie as they started down the ornate staircase back to the first floor. “Rough, isn’t it?”
Her blue eyes shone when she smiled back at him. “I love it, Jon. I’ve always loved it. The potential for a wonderful family home is here. Five bedrooms for more littles, a huge bedroom for us, and we could take that smallest room next to the bathroom and beside the biggest bedroom and turn it into a master bath so we have an en suite. Nice closets, which is unusual in a house of this era. I’m pretty handy from running the marina all these years, and I can strip the woodwork and paint. We’d need to have it rewired, of course. Maybe new plumbing too. And while we could probably refinish the floors ourselves, I think I’d rather have an expert do them so they are perfect.”
His mouth dropped as she rambled on about what she wanted to do with the home. “How’d you see past the dirt and the poor decisions someone made?”
They reached the entry, and she poked him with her elbow. “Hey, I saw through your warts, you know.”
He chuckled and draped his arm around her shoulders. “And I’m thankful you did.”
Her expression clouded. “Do you know how much they want for it? How can we afford any house right now when you’re about to open your own practice?”
