Page 40
Ethan
Ava had been down ever since the trip to the drop-off.
Me and the guys watched her move around the lake house like a ghost for the next few days, barely taking part with the renovation like she’d been so eager to do lately. She only really showed up when she was dropping off something to eat or drink. I figured that on top of the anxiety she clearly felt about that drone, it was also her going stir-crazy. She seemed happiest when we got out of the house, and maybe now, with that weird discovery, that was exactly what she needed again.
So, I conspired with Nate to let me change that, and the boss-man surprisingly agreed.
I stepped into the living room where she was lying on the couch, curled up like a little human croissant under a blanket. My heart thudded violently once, my need to see a smile on her face again immediately pushing me forward. I tossed the spare life jacket I'd brought in from the truck onto the couch, right next to her.
“Alright, up we go. You’ve been staring at that exact patch of drywall for the last two hours, Ava. We’re going on a field trip,” I announced.
She blinked at me for a few seconds, clearly surprised. “Uh… where to?”
“Sentinel Island,” I said, flashing a quick grin. “The old forester’s lookout post. There’s an old-growth cedar, and vintage hardware just sitting there rotting. We need to see if any of it can be salvaged for the lake house. Plus, you have a terminal case of cabin fever.”
“Why do I think this trip has way more to do with the latter than the former?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. But the warmth in her voice lit my heart on fire.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “It’s still considered a work trip.”
Her smile widened, and my world got brighter.
Deacon appeared around the corner, leaning against the wall. He had a typical mopey look on his face. “I don’t think she should leave the property after what we found,” he said, clearly thinking of the drone again.
Ava’s body crumpled a little at the reminder, and I gave him a look. “She’ll be fine. She’ll be with me on open water,” I said. I kept my voice firm and reassuring. “No one will be tracking us down there.”
“I don’t know…” Deacon mumbled, his gaze shooting to Ava on the couch.
She stirred in discomfort, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. I opened my mouth to say something when Nate stepped in, surprising all three of us. “I think you should go.”
Deacon’s eyes popped wide. Even Ava looked shocked. Nate just stood in the entranceway, studying her with a strange expression on his face. “Ethan’s right. She jumps at her shadow here. Take the skiff, stick to the shoreline, and keep your eyes open. But Ethan? Bring her back before the sky changes, alright?”
I nodded sagely, understanding the gravity of what he was charging me with—Ava’s safety. I felt the weight of that settle in my chest.
“I’ve got her, Boss,” I said assuringly. Then I turned to her and held out my hand. “You coming?”
She only paused for a second before a little smile curled in the corner of her mouth. She put her hand in mine. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
*
I knew what Nate meant when he mentioned bringing her back before the weather changed. Today was one of those moody days where things could change on a dime. The sky was a deceptive, pale blue through a thin rim of bruised, purple clouds hanging low on the northern horizon.
The air was crisp and still, and the lake was perfectly flat as the small skiff cut through the water. I glanced back at the distant clouds, tracking the speed of the upper-level winds pushing us forward.
“We’ve got a window,” I said over the rumble of the outboard motor, nodding toward the northern front. “That system is moving slow. It won’t break for at least another three or four hours, so we’ll have plenty of time to grab what we need from the island and be halfway back before the first drop hits.”
Ava laughed for the first time in days, and I swear the sound of it pushed those clouds even further back. “You know your stuff, huh?”
I shrugged proudly, feeling my face heat up. “I wouldn’t brag about it. And it’s not a fixed science. The Pacific Northwest is still terrible for predictions. But I’m sure it’ll be alright.”
She looked at me with an expression of trust, and I felt the weight in my chest sink even deeper. I cleared my throat and continued to steer the tiller handle while she sat up front, holding onto the gunwales and turning her face to the view of the lake and horizon line.
The trip there was rather relaxing, and soon the swell of the island rose sharply from the water. It was a dense, overgrown mound of ancient cedar and hemlock. Ava and I dragged the skiff up onto a narrow strip of black volcanic pebble sand and hiked up a trail towards the abandoned forester’s station. The air here smelled of rich earth and decaying wood. There was a beauty in that rich scent.
The lookout post was a small, weather-beaten structure raised on thick wooden stilts. Inside, the air was cool and trapped. I went to work, using a crowbar to inspect the thick, rustic shelving units. Ava helped me sift through a rusted metal locker, finding a pair of heavy, solid-brass hinges and an old iron lantern that she said would look perfect above her new kitchen island.
Despite the fun of the hunt, she kept glancing nervously through the cracked windowpanes.
“Hey,” I said, drawing her attention back to me. She dragged her eyes to mine, a guarded expression on her face. “I’m right here. You’re safe with me, okay?”
