Silken Tide Page 6

  Mark.

  Mark shot upright in bed. As if an intruder just broke into his home, fear gripped his chest. He tried to sit as still as possible and steady his breathing. After a few moments of nothing but quiet, he shook his head. It must have been a dream. Just as he was about to settle back into his blankets, he heard the voice once more. This time the voice was no longer a whisper, but reminiscent of soft bells ringing in song.

  Mark, come.

  Mark threw the covers off his legs and stumbled across his bedroom. He pulled up the window further and looked over at the ground below. There was no one. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. There was nothing. Nothing except him and the shifting tide.

  Chapter 9

  Mark awoke to the heavy sound of boots on the hardwood floor, as his father made his way down the hallway and past his bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and clumsily felt for his watch on the nightstand beside his bed. It was five o’clock in the morning. Just then, his father’s warning echoed in his head. We meet at the docks no later than 5:15. The boat won’t wait.

  Shit.

  Mark threw the covers from his unclad body and he nearly fell onto the floor as the sheets tangled around his legs. He searched his bedroom, lit only by the dim glow of dawn, for his sneakers. He sprinted down the hallway, still buttoning his jeans and praying that he didn’t miss his ride to the docks. Mark was relieved as he stepped out onto the front porch and found his father’s truck still parked in the drive. As he made his way down the front steps and pulled his T-shirt over his head, his father revved the engine as if to give one last boarding call. When he slid into the passenger side of the truck, his father handed him a Thermos filled with coffee.

  “Thanks.” Mark held the container between his knees while trying to tie the laces of his sneakers.

  Mark studied his father as he drove down the winding roads toward the docks. Silence settled heavy in the truck between them, but his father’s expression told the story that he refused to let his lips to reveal. His father’s face was drawn and dark circles had formed around his eyes. He glanced at Mark momentarily before returning his troubled eyes back to the roadway. The look on his father’s face was all too familiar. Not long ago, Mark had seen that look on his own face when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. It was the look of tiredness. It was the look of worry. Yes, Mark knew that look very well. Even still, he couldn’t figure out what was bothering his father. He wanted to ask him what was wrong, but Mark didn’t know if words of concern would be enough to piece together their broken relationship. He wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, but Mark didn’t know if his arm could reach across the chasm carved by years of absence between them. In that moment, Mark’s courage vanished like the night sky fading away to make room for another day of fishing. He took a sip from his Thermos and prayed for the second time that morning. He prayed that he would get another chance.

  Once they arrived at the docks, Mark got out of the truck and circled around to the bed to retrieve his gear. When he looked up, he found his father standing at the opposite side of the bed staring at him. Mark held eye contact with his father for a moment before his father motioned with his head toward the pier.

  “Jeremy is going to bait today. You’ll be pulling the traps with me.” His father’s voice cut into the hazy morning air, as they walked side by side toward the dock.

  “I’d like that.” Mark smiled.

  As he followed his father onto the pier, pride crept up from the pit of Mark’s stomach and swelled into his chest. He had been given the promotion of a lifetime. Mark brought his aching shoulders back and straightened his posture. When he walked the dock with his father, Mark realized that he still didn’t fit in with the rest of the fishermen. They averted their eyes as they passed and gave him more space than required. It didn’t matter. In that moment, his father’s approval was all Mark needed to make his way down the dock. As he approached the boat, Mark looked up to find Jeremy glaring down at him from the deck. The air was different between them that morning. Yesterday, Jeremy had used his sharp words like razors to slice at Mark’s prideful exterior. Today, Jeremy’s contemptuous stare dug past the surface and deep into Mark’s core faster than any quick-witted insult ever could.

  “Morning, Jim,” Jeremy said.

  “How’s it going, Jeremy? All set to go?” Mark’s father climbed aboard the boat.

  “Just about. I would have been ready to push off as soon as you got here, if I hadn’t spent most of my morning chasing off seals.”

  “Seals?” Mark’s father stood still and crossed his arms.

  “Yeah, seals. Should have seen them, Jim. They were all over the damn dock! I swear it looked like they were trying to climb on the boat.”

  Mark’s father’s arms dropped down and his hands balled into fists at his sides. His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the choppy water and he shook his head. If Mark didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he was observing his father having a disagreement with the sea. His father grunted and without further word, he made his way to the wheelhouse. This time, Mark remembered that his legs were less than seaworthy; he made sure he widened his stance before his father started the engine.

  As they pulled from the dock, Mark found that he didn’t need to look far for proof of what Jeremy had witnessed that hazy morning. Seals clung to the pier and gathered at the water’s edge. They settled on the boulders along the shore as if to keep watch. As the boat cut through the bay into deeper waters, Mark watched in amazement as the seals leapt from their perches and followed. His eyes became fixated on the agile creatures, as they glided next to the boat. Without warning, the sound of the water rushing around the ship seemed to fade. Like the mist in the air created by the undulating sea, thousands of small murmurs seemed to lift from the ocean and settle into Mark’s ears. He tried to listen, but they were all vying with one another to be heard. Just then, the boat stopped and Mark’s father hurried from the wheelhouse and broke his trance.

  “All right! That’s enough! You’ve had your look. Now, go on!” Mark’s father leaned over and slapped the side of the boat. Seals scattered away in every direction.

  Suddenly, Mark realized that the boat had come to rest next to his father’s buoys. He remembered leaving the docks. He remembered the seals and the whispers. But Mark couldn’t account for anything in between. He glanced at Jeremy, who seemed to be unaware of anything unusual. He searched his father’s face for answers, but it appeared that he was deliberately avoiding eye contact with Mark. His heart raced as he came to the realization that he had lost moments of his life without explanation. His father pushed past him to the other side of the ship.

  “Jeremy, you’ll be baiting today.” Mark’s father’s voice strained to be heard over the drone of the idling engine.

  Jeremy paused for a moment, looking back and forth between Mark and his father. “You sure he’s ready for pulling traps, Jim?”

  “He’s going to have to learn sooner or later.”

  Jeremy shook his head.

  “Is there a problem?” his father asked.

  “No, sir. No problem at all.” Jeremy shot Mark a look of disdain before he turned to take his post.

  Mark joined his father at the side of the boat. He watched as the first buoy was plucked from the water and the rope was attached to the winch. A minute later, the first trap broke the surface of the ocean. Once it was within arm’s length, Mark helped heave the heavy wire cage on deck. His father unlatched the door of the trap.

  “Watch.” His father lifted his fingers to his eyes and then pointed at the cage.

  He began removing the lobsters from the trap, banding their claws, and tossing them into a nearby crate. Mark looked on in amazement. It wasn’t just that his father worked with an agility and quiet concentration that most men would admire. It was that his father was one with his surroundings. He belonged. A sense of yearning flooded Mark’s chest; he hadn’t felt like he fit in anywhere for some time.

&n
bsp; Mark peeked into the trap and found a lone lobster crawling at the bottom of the cage. He wanted to show his father that he was worthy and a quick learner. He wanted to push it in Jeremy’s face that he could do more than just push papers across a desk in an office. He wanted the fishermen in Silk Cove to know that he, too, was able to do a real man’s job. Rather than wait for his father’s cue, Mark reached into the trap to retrieve the last lobster. Suddenly, his father grabbed his forearm. Mark’s skin blanched under his tight grip.

  “No. Not that one.” His father’s voice was sharp.

  He gently removed the lobster from Mark’s hand and turned it over slowly. Mark narrowed his eyes to take a closer look. Thousands of black orbs that resembled miniature pearls covered the inside of the beings tail. It only took Mark a moment to realize that the tiny beads were eggs.

  “We always give the females back. Never take from the ocean what doesn’t belong to you. Ever.” His father’s voice was barely audible over the waves, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

  As if he were handling something fragile, his father carefully released the crustacean and it disappeared into the dark waters. All at once, an eerie silence fell around the boat and Mark felt as if he were being watched. He looked out over the rippling sea to find a seal bobbing in and out of the waves. As Mark made eye contact with the sleek creature, he couldn’t help but think that his father was talking about more than just fishing.

  Chapter 10

  Saturday rolled in like the ocean tide and brought the Summer Festival to the shore of Silk Cove. The celebration went back as long as Mark could remember and provided a weekend of reprieve for the fishermen. For once, he was grateful for Silk Cove’s silly traditions. Especially if those silly traditions meant a couple of days to trade his amateur sea legs for balance on a more steady ground.

  Mark stood in front of the mirror and examined his reflection. He raked his fingers through his dark hair and ran his hand over his clean-shaven face. As he rolled up the sleeves of his blue button-down shirt and adjusted the collar, Mark practiced a charming smile he had used when attending corporate parties. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he made his way down the dim hallway and through the front door. The walk from his father’s house to the festival was a little long, but it allowed time to think about the beautiful woman who was saving him a dance under the pavilion that evening.

  Mark had not seen Jessica in a couple of days. Yes, he could have paid an early morning visit to Bonnie’s before he tackled another day of fishing. Sure, he had the opportunity every day to stop into the diner after working on the boat. If he had given Jessica the attention that he was sure she desired, he could have had her in a New York minute. But he wanted to get inside her head. He wanted to make her wait. Mark knew that anticipation was the best foreplay a man could offer a woman. Besides, he got bored quickly with things that came too easy. Mark tried to treat Jessica just like the rest of the women in his life; easy come, easy go. But as he walked the densely hedged road, he remembered her dancing green eyes when she stared at him from across the booth at Bonnie’s. Suddenly, his heart raced and he couldn’t feel if his feet were touching ground. Mark shook his head as if to send the image of Jessica to the corner of his mind. He’d never trusted a woman before. He wasn’t about to start just because he met a gorgeous redhead on the coast of Maine.

  Mark descended the sloped roadway toward town. As he neared the celebration, he could hear music and laughter rise above the trees that flanked either side of the path. Finally, he turned the corner and the pavilion came into view. The domed wooden structure emanated a warm glow against the night sky, and he could hear the ocean rolling just beyond. Mark walked the small field that separated the road from the pavilion, dodging a group of giggling children chasing fireflies. At last, he climbed the four stairs into the pavilion. Paper lanterns that hung from the rafters twirled in the slight breeze and hundreds of white lights lined the walls. Tables with punch bowls and plates of hors d’oeuvres lined the perimeter of the pavilion. In the middle of the room, couples moved in unison on a dance floor.

  Mark stood off to the side and scanned the crowd. He looked from face to face. He didn’t see Jessica. Suddenly, he could feel his heart sinking inside his chest. What if he was wrong? What if making her wait backfired? Mark desperately searched the room one last time. Then as if fate were keeping a watchful eye, the crowd in front of him seemed to magically part.

  There she was.

  In a white sundress that barely brushed her knees, Jessica stood at the opposite end of the pavilion near the railing that overlooked the ocean. Mark held his breath. At that moment, his eyes began a journey that he wasn’t sure he would ever want to return from. Her full lips reminded him of a pink rose against her radiant porcelain white skin. Her hair was pinned behind her head, a few fiery strands spiraling at the side of her delicate face. Mark’s eyes then traveled the length of her neck, over her exposed shoulders and slid down the curve of her slim waist. The edge of her dress fluttered in the light breeze revealing her slender, yet toned legs. She was flawless. As if she could sense Mark’s eyes wandering all over her body, Jessica glanced in his direction.

  Their eyes met. She smiled. He exhaled.

  When Mark made his way across the wood floor to Jessica, he did his best to recover his poise. He kept a casual pace as he made his way toward her, but his stare was steady and unwavering. He watched as Jessica lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips against her neck. As he neared her still, he realized that her glowing white skin was now flushed. Yes, he still had it. Once he stood in front of her, he put his hands in his pockets and flashed her a clever smile.

  “Good evening, Jessica.”

  “Hi there. You know, I was about to give up on you.”

  “Give up on me?”

  “Well, I haven’t heard from you all week and…”

  “And?” Mark raised his eyebrows.

  “And, I thought maybe you had forgotten.”

  “Forget you, Jessica? Not likely.”

  The corners of Jessica’s lips turned upward into a timid smile and once again, pink surfaced on her cheeks. Desire began to stir in Mark’s core, reminding him that he had not been with a woman in weeks. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, fighting back the urge to drag her to a dark corner somewhere. But even as he stood before her yearning to feel her body pressed against his, there was something else. Something else that trumped sexual tension any day. Something else that Mark could not make sense of. There was an immense energy between them. In fact, it was so powerful that Mark wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if it blew the roof off the pavilion. He took a deep breath for the hundredth time that evening and tried to regain focus.

  “Do you still have that dance saved for me?” Mark asked.

  “Well, you are late.” Jessica grinned and crossed her arms.

  “You didn’t give it away, did you?” He narrowed his eyes and smirked.

  “Not yet.”

  “In that case, would you do me the honor?”

  Mark held out his hands and without hesitation, Jessica slid her hands into his. He was immediately aware of how dainty her hands were, yet it seemed that beneath their soft exterior there was an underlying strength that would allow her to hold on even during the fiercest of storms. Making certain that he never lost eye contact with her, Mark stepped backward and led Jessica to the middle of the pavilion. Finally, they stood still and he lifted her hands to his shoulders. He heard her breath catch as he ran his hands down her sides to her waist, pulling her closer. Mark began to move from side to side, slightly slower than the beat of the music playing above. After a few moments, he brought his mouth just inches from her ear.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

  Jessica gripped his shoulder tighter. It was then that Mark realized that her whole body seemed to be trembling.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No.” Jessica’s teeth chattered.


  “Am I scaring you?”

  Jessica shook her head.

  “Then why are you shaking?”

  “Because that’s what happens to me whenever you’re around.” Jessica’s voice came as a mere whisper.

  Mark became still. He released his hold around Jessica’s waist and her arms fell slowly to her sides. He took a step back and looked down at her. Jessica’s head hung low, her glance diverted to the floor, as if she were embarrassed that she had let the words escape her mouth. Mark reached out his hand and lifted her chin; he felt like he was staring into a pair of emeralds, as the lights that adorned the room reflected in her eyes. The music seemed to fade away and all Mark could hear was his own heartbeat, his own breathing. The yearning that Mark had fought so hard to keep pinned in his core now rushed through his veins to the rest of his being. As if his hands had a mind of their own, Mark reached behind Jessica’s head. Slowly, he slid the paintbrush from the back of her hair, sending a river of red tresses cascading over her shoulders and down the middle of her back. A gust of wind blew through the pavilion and Jessica’s hair blew sideways onto her face. All at once, a moment of recognition knocked the breath out of Mark.

  It was her. There was no mistaking it.

  Jessica was the woman from his dream while on the train to Silk Cove. Her dress. Her hair. Even her hands. It was all the same. The blood drained from Mark’s face and his head swam. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Just then, a sharp tap on his shoulder broke his thoughts. Mark turned to find Jeremy standing before him. The stench of stale beer and animosity filled the air between them.

  “Can I cut in?” Jeremy crossed his arms.

  “I think we’re good.” Mark turned his attention to Jessica.