Love's Price by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2013-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harriet walked the beach, near enough to the surf to get her toes wet with each lapping wave. Seaweed stretched down the sand, and when a shiny object caught her eye, she sifted through the green strands, delighted to retrieve a button from a gentleman’s coat.

She had found many functional items: a dish, another fork, a comb. One morning, a chair had washed up, and whenever she sat in it, she liked to imagine how it had come to be in the water.

Had someone on a ship thrown it overboard? Had someone taken it to an oceanside picnic, but lost it to the incoming tide?

She had difficulty recollecting that there was another world out there. They’d been stranded for ages, each day blending into the next in a slow, pleasant rhythm. It had begun to seem as if she’d always been on the island with Tristan, as if she’d never lived anywhere else.

She didn’t know how long they’d been marooned. Quite a bit of time had passed before they’d started a calendar, and even then, they’d debated. Was it a good idea to keep track? If months became years, would a record be too depressing?

In the end, they’d agreed to mark the passage of time while trying not to focus on what might be occurring in the life they’d left behind.

It was bizarre to envision their acquaintances going about their daily routines as if Tristan and Harriet had never existed. More and more, it seemed as if they’d died without being aware that they had.

If so, death was a panacea, and Harriet hoped she could remain just where she was—with Tristan—through all of eternity.

The afternoon was very hot, and she decided to take a dip in the ocean.

With Tristan’s help, she’d grown to be an avid swimmer. She reached for the hem of her chemise and tugged it over her head so she was naked and completely unconcerned that she was.

Six months earlier, she wouldn’t have considered such scandalous behavior, but the beliefs and tenets by which she’d previously carried on no longer applied. As she’d learned, when normal conduct was impossible, anything was allowed.

Carefully, she folded the chemise and laid it on a rock. It was still her only article of clothing, and the fabric was bleached white and worn to the point of tearing.

The harsh tropical rays had bleached her hair white too, and her skin had darkened to a deep tan, the bronze shade covering her entire torso. Whenever she went to bathe in the stream, she’d notice her reflection, and she thought she resembled an ancient goddess.

She waded into the warm sea and dove under a wave, and she floated for awhile, then walked back to the sand. She tarried in the breeze, letting it dry her body.

Off in the distance, on the cliff that was the highest part of the island, Tristan was adding a log to their signal fire. They kept it burning constantly, but so far, the smoke had brought no rescue vessel winging in their direction.

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