Island Hearts (Jenny's Turn and Stray Lady) by Vanessa Grant Page B

you’ve left your job, gone off onto the ocean on a small boat – where’s safety there?”
    “There are different kinds of safety,” she said ambiguously. Safety was in getting away from Jake, keeping herself independent, not needing anyone else.
    Softly, he asked, “What is it you’re running from this time?”
    “I’m not running!”
    “Aren’t you?” He stopped, holding a hand out and catching her fingers in his. “I don’t know why, but I do think you’re running. If it’s dissatisfaction with your job, with me—” He gripped her hand tightly in a brief spasm. “—if that’s it, you could have asserted yourself, told me – wouldn’t that have been easier than running?”
    “It’s easy enough for you to say that, but you’re a dynamo, Jake. You do things the way you want. Fighting you takes more energy than I’ve got.”
    He shook his head, keeping hold of her hand when she tugged to get it free. “I don’t believe that. You always avoid arguments.” He laughed, said, “At least, you did until a few days ago. Why is that, Jenny? Because you can’t argue without getting involved?”
    He was too close, too curious. She jerked free, gripped the rail and kept her eyes down as she went up the steep ramp to the parking lot. “Where are you taking me?”
    And why was she going with him?
    “Tow Hill – nice scenery, a beach, campsite in the wilderness – a picnic lunch too. Glenda packed a basket for us. It’s in the truck – David loaned me his truck.”
    They stood at the top of the ramp. She looked at him, tall and lean and aggressive. He was always restless, always moving, and she said, “You mean you’re just going to laze about on a beach?”
    He grinned down at her. “That’s right.”
    “A whole morning with no rushing around, no camera, no traumatic events – that can’t be the Jake I know.”
    “But you don’t know it all, do you?”
    No, she didn’t. Seated behind the wheel of an old, workmanlike truck, Jake didn’t look like a man who owned a fast sports car.
    Just seeing him again sent her pulse racing. Letting him show her his beloved islands wasn’t going to make Jenny’s bid for freedom any easier. If she didn’t watch herself, he could talk her right back into his studio, right back where she’d been two weeks ago.
    Remember Monica, she taunted herself as she pretended to watch the trees and the ocean.
    When the silence became uncomfortable, she asked, “Are you going to take me driving on the beach? You never did tell me if you were one of those teenagers who got cars stuck out on the sand when the tide came in. I saw the beach as we came in – it looks like it goes on forever.”
    “It does. As for my past, around here you could hear a few tales of my wilder days. Mostly I was kept busy in my summers. I only came to the Charlottes for the summers, you know. To visit my mother’s people.”
    “I’ve been reading about the Haida.”
    “Of course you have,” he said with a smile.
    “You’re laughing at me!”
    He threw her a warm glance. “Only a little. You always do your research. You probably know more facts about the Haida people than I do.”
    “Is it true that all Haida are either ravens or eagles?” He nodded and she asked, “Which was your mother?”
    “A raven.”
    “That makes you a raven, too, doesn’t it? Yes, of course. That’s why your sweater has the raven design on it. And that silver chain you wear – that’s a raven design, too?”
    “Yes,” he agreed, but she thought he looked more like an eagle, or even a hawk.
    “And your aunt – the girl at the hotel called her a Haida princess. Your mother must have been a princess, too. That makes you royalty, doesn’t it?”
    Jake laughed, his head tossing the unruly locks of black hair back. “Violet’s not a princess – that’s white man’s myth. She and my mother were daughters to a chief, but Haida don’t have princesses. Here, we’ll park under these trees and walk.