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

Author:Grant, Vanessa [Grant, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, anthology, Contemporary Women, Contemporary Romance, Fiction
Publisher: Muse Creations Inc
Published: 2013-02-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

The warmth came slowly, like pain returning with wakefulness. With the warmth came the dreams. George shifted, rolling, trying to escape the voices that echoed both inside and outside the dream.

Scott’s voice, firm and sure and loving.

No, that was wrong. Not Scott. She’d been sailing, hadn’t she? Alone?

Collections of odd words isolated from reality.

“…issued a notice to mariners, but with the storm and the dark… gale warning, building to a storm. No letup…”

“…no identification on her. No idea… must have been others on board… still unconscious… hypothermia and lord knows what else! …don’t think any actual broken bones, unless the ribs…”

“…vital signs… breathing better…”

Men’s voices. Who were they talking about? Her?

No, she was dreaming. She had been sailing, but she was at anchor now, dreaming the voices.

She felt the water surging under Lady Harriet, sweeping her away from the pain.

Today… Funny, mixing up the days. Today was… Prince Rupert this morning. A fisherman warning her, “Storm coming. Southeaster.”

She’d laughed, shaking her short blond curls. “There’s no storm forecast.”

“Gales in Chatham Sound before night,” he’d insisted.

She hadn’t told him that she didn’t really care if there was a gale.

A ferry had passed her in the harbor entrance. Someone on the bridge had looked down at her small sailboat, hailing her with a friendly greeting.

“You’re looking pretty down there, Lady Harriet!”

The ferry had turned south. George had sailed her little ship off to the north once she was clear of the dangers.

It had been one of the better days, with the sun high in a cloudy sky and the water blue and exciting. Scott’s memory was a gentle sadness, not paining her.

Sailing alone was hard work; it had kept her from thinking.

When the wind had freshened and the clouds drew together, she’d scrambled out on deck to take down the Genoa, putting up a smaller sail in its place, hanging on desperately as the deck heaved violently underfoot.

She’d crawled back to the cockpit, scared, but feeling a wild surge of triumph that she’d managed a difficult job alone.

When the wind picked up even more she was singing, riding wild, north to Alaska…

“Wake up! Hey, sweetheart, you must wake… have to know about…”

The pain surged back, covering her until she could hardly hear the voice trying to pull her back. Not Scott’s voice.

Silence.

She rested, letting her body sag against the mattress. In her mind, she heard music. She let the hurt seep away, drifting until the bright light penetrated her eyelids.

She moved her head, trying to escape the brilliance. Waves of pain from her chest shocked her into immobility.

Something on her head. She lifted a weak hand, felt some barrier of metal.

Hands on her hair.

She opened her eyes, saw headphones in small hands. A light voice whispered, “You’re ‘wake now?”

A small girl, long blond hair floating around her shoulders, pale blue eyes staring.

A dream?

Where was this?

…sailing, riding the waves as the wind freshened to a storm, then…

“Did you like the music?”

“Music?” She focused on the girl. How old? Nine? Ten?

“It’s my Walkman.” She held a disk player cradled carefully in her hands.

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