Finally Ours (Harborview #2)

4. Carter

4

CARTER

An hour or two later, when the first cloud pops up into the sky, my gut twists in foreboding.

I have no idea where Angela is. She forged ahead on her own, following one branch of the trail. But she clearly took a wrong turn somewhere, because I went down the same trail, which winds along the coast, and she’s nowhere to be found.

I’ve found most of the stuff on the scavenger hunt, but that’s besides the point. This activity was supposed to be fun—and I warned Jamie that Angela would chafe at being paired up with me, but he didn’t listen. He’s determined to match-make but I can see right through him because it lacks the subtlety of some of my best match-making. I nagged him about how cute Cat was for years, poking and prodding him to tell me about her, giving him the chance to gush about how great she was, before he finally took the bait and asked her out.

I doubt Jamie envisioned me anxiously scanning the trail ahead for Angela. He probably thought we’d overcome our differences in a few hours and end up making out against a tree or some shit.

If only.

My phone rings in my pocket and I pick up immediately when I see Jamie’s name.

“Hey man, what’s up?” I say.

“We’re thinking of heading back early,” he says. “The captain called me and said the storm is coming in faster than he thought it would. If we leave at 4:00 p.m. like scheduled it might be too late. So you and Angela should head back. Where are you guys, anyway?”

“I’m on the coastal trail, probably about thirty minutes from town if I walk fast.”

“What do you mean you’re on the coastal trail? Where’s Angela?” Jamie demands.

“I don’t know where she is,” I admit. “She got, uh, upset with me and went off on her own.”

Jamie sighs, long and audibly, through the speaker.

“I’ll call her and we’ll meet you back in town,” I say, trying to get a handle on the situation. In the distance, more gray clouds are gathering on the horizon, and the wind is starting to blow harder, whistling past my ears.

“Okay,” he says. “Let me know what happens.”

I hang up and immediately call Angela. It rings a few times and then goes to her voicemail. I send her a text about the situation.

My thoughts start to race. Angela is alone out there in the woods, and a storm is brewing. She doesn’t know the island well, and she’s not answering her phone. She could get hurt.

I take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. And then another. I’ve been in rough situations during field work before, and I’m prepared for this. I never go on any hike without a compass, first aid kit, and plenty of food and water. And I know the forest and coast on this island well—certainly well enough to find her.

I head off left into the woods immediately, because I can’t see Angela anywhere ahead of me along the coast. I make my way back towards where we parted ways, and keep alert for any flash of her neon pink shirt and long blonde hair.

I mentally curse myself for losing track of her. I shouldn’t have let her go off alone, and I’ll never forgive myself if she gets caught in the storm before I find her. I try calling her again, but nothing. With no idea what direction she went in, I take the approach of running along one branch of the trail until I think I’ve gone far enough. Then I double back and head off in another direction.

The first drop of rain falls on my head, and I check my watch.

“Fuck,” I curse. It’s already past 2:00 p.m., and I’m sure Jamie and the others will want to head out soon enough. I tell myself I’ll give it another few minutes before I really start to worry.

Rain starts coming down faster now, and the air is cold. Thankfully I wore a few layers and brought a waterproof jacket, but I’m worried about Angela in her thin workout shirt. It’s something that would suit her at the gym, not during a spring rain storm.

I close my eyes and hold an image of her in my mind—curly blonde hair long and pulled up in a high ponytail, her face set in a frown as she looks at me, arms crossed over her chest. It’s a familiar image, and even though I wish I saw her smile more, it’s still one I enjoy.

Just then, I see a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye. It’s Angela, walking down the trail towards me, earbuds still in, her shirt pulled up halfway over her head to protect her from the rain.

“Angela!” I call out. “Thank God.”

“It really sucks about the rain,” she says, as soon as she gets close to me.

“It does,” I say, though I’m already picking up my phone and calling Jamie.

The connection is worse than before, and I can barely hear him.

“I found Angela,” I say.

“Great,” he says, and then something else which is lost over the howl of the wind and the static in the connection. “We have to head out,” he says. “How far from the town are you?”

I take a look around and assess where we are. Isle North is about eight miles long, and by my measure, we’re nearly at the northern tip. The town is closer to the south.

“We’re about an hour’s walk out,” I say, wincing.

Jamie is silent for a bit, and I can hear him conferring with the captain in the background.

“What’s happening?” Angela presses, tugging on my arm. I catch a note of panic in her voice, and I make a promise to myself, then and there, that I’m going to be strong for her no matter what happens next.

Because I don’t think we’re getting on that boat.

“Carter, I don’t think we can wait for you,” Jamie says over the phone. “Not unless we all want to get stuck on the island. Captain Jones said it could be until tomorrow, or the next day, before it’s safe to travel again if we don’t go now. And he doesn’t want to wait any longer. He lives on Mount Desert Island and wants to get home.”

“Okay,” I say. “That’s fine.” Because it is fine. I have rations and supplies and I know of somewhere we can wait the rest of the storm out.

“ What’s fine?” Angela asks.

I ignore her because I know she’s not going to be okay with this plan, but I’m not going to ask the others to wait for us and risk everyone getting trapped.

“Are you sure?” Jamie asks, and even through the bad connection, I can tell he’s worried.

“Yes,” I say. “I know of a cabin here where we can wait out the worst of the storm, and then we’ll head back to the town and stay over in one of the vacation rentals or something. We’ll make it back to Harborview tomorrow or the next day.”

“Alright,” Jamie says. “I’m sorry, man. Try not to hold it against us.”

“It’s okay,” I say, meaning it. I’m just happy I found Angela before the storm got worse.

I hang up and turn to find Angela looking both panicked and livid.

“What the fuck did you mean when you said we can wait out the rest of the storm ?” she demands.

“We’re nearly an hour’s walk from the dock and Captain Jones said that they needed to leave now. Jamie called me about forty-five minutes ago to let me know. If they wait any longer they won’t be able to go,” I say calmly.

“So they’re just leaving us here?”

“No,” I say. “They’re leaving so that we don’t all get stuck.”

“Why didn’t you tell me we needed to head back?” Her face is all screwed up in a frown, and even still, she looks so beautiful it takes my breath away momentarily. The rain has slicked her pale hair across her face, and her blue eyes are dancing with anger. I want to take a step closer, invade her personal space, count every single one of the freckles on her nose, and then move on to cataloging her eyelashes.

“Because you basically ran away from me,” I say, regaining my control. “I spent the last forty-five minutes frantically looking for you so that we could head back.”

“And no one thought to call me?”

I bark out a laugh. “I called you multiple times.”

I see her check her phone, but she doesn’t back down an inch.

“You’re okay with this? Being abandoned,” she all but hisses.

“Angela, they have no other choice,” I explain, sensing that there’s something else going on here. Something preventing her from seeing that it didn’t make sense for them to wait for us. “The storm isn’t bad now, but it’s going to get worse.” I gesture at the sky above us, which is completely covered in angry gray clouds now.

“I don’t care,” she says. “Besides, if you hadn’t pissed me off so much about the scavenger hunt, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“How could this possibly be my fault? I didn’t cause the storm,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

“I wouldn’t have gone off in the wrong direction if you weren’t provoking me,” she says, her voice rising. The rain is falling harder around us now, and I know we need to head for shelter, but I want to hear her out.

“How did I provoke you?” I ask, genuinely curious. I’ve been trying to be on my best behavior since this bachelor party started, tiptoeing around Angela, trying to be polite and kind to her.

“By being nice! By telling me I like the outdoors when you have absolutely no clue what I like or dislike.” She pauses, her chest heaving slightly in anger. “By pushing,” she continues. “You always have to push, Carter.”

Her words sting, because she’s right. I don’t know what she likes, not anymore at least. And I do always push, even when I know I shouldn’t. My best behavior clearly isn’t good enough for her.

“Well I didn’t ask to be paired up with someone who so clearly hates me,” I say. “But this is the situation that we’re in.”

My words hang there between us and I can tell Angela isn’t sure what to say. But I’m being honest, at least.

“Let’s just blame Cat and Jamie,” she says. “This whole idiotic thing was their idea.”

“I actually had a great time looking for puffin droppings,” I point out.

She just rolls her eyes. “What do we do now? I heard you mention a cabin?” The wind gusts harder as she says this, and I see her shiver.

“First, you’re going to take my coat. Don’t argue,” I say, seeing her start to shake her head. “Then, we’re going to head to a cabin I’ve been to a few times before during field work. It technically belongs to one of the local birders who uses it as an outpost when watching puffins, but he’s only here sporadically starting in May.”

I take off my insulated rain jacket and pass it to Angela. She accepts it without complaint, which tells me all I need to know about how cold she is. The sleeves hang past her hands, and I decide I like the sight of her in my clothes a little too much.

“What about you?” she asks.

“I’m not that cold, and I’m used to being outside in this type of thing. I’ll dry off when we get to the cabin.”

She just nods, teeth chattering a bit, and I briefly indulge in a fantasy where I wrap her in my arms and warm her up with my body heat.

“The cabin is just down this trail about ten minutes,” I say, pointing towards the coast. The cabin is really more of a shack, nestled near the coast, perfect for watching the puffins fly in and out of their nesting area. Only researchers are allowed to go to the burrows to tag and count them, but birding enthusiasts like Hal love to watch them with binoculars.

“Great,” she says.

I head off through the woods, bearing northeast of the trail. Angela follows close behind me, and the rain starts coming down even harder, pelting my face and soaking through my layers completely. We don’t speak until the cabin comes into view about twenty minutes later. It’s made of unfinished planks of wood, and the side facing the cliffs and sea features a large window for bird watching.

“The keys are just in here,” I say, as I input the code onto the key box near the door.

In a few moments we’re inside and Angela is surveying the space.

“It’s…sparse,” she says.

It has a futon in one corner, a few folding chairs, a tiny bathroom with just a toilet and a sink, and an electric kettle and microwave.

“Are you really complaining?” I say, because a little gratitude for basically saving her would be nice.

“Just remarking,” she says, completely unfazed. She sets her small bag down on the floor, and sits in one of the chairs. “Now what?”

“What do you mean? It’s a storm. We’ve got to wait it out,” I say. Outside, the rain clattering against the tin roof starts to get louder.

Angela gets up and peers out the window. “Hail,” she says softly. “Do you think they’re alright on the water?” She sounds nervous, and my heart softens towards her once again. She’s not used to this. I’ve spent days camped out near cliffs, counting, tagging, and watching colonies of seabirds. I’ve weathered plenty of rain storms in just a tent, and I’ve been on much smaller boats than the one we took over from Mount Desert Island.

“I’m sure they’re fine. The captain was likely being cautious. It’s not tropical storm season, and I bet they’re nearly back by now. The crossing doesn’t take too long.”

She nods. “My moms are going to be so worried about me.”

“The cell service isn’t great here, but I’m sure a text to them would go through.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

While she works on drafting the text—which I’m sure she’s wording as carefully as possible to avoid any parental freak outs—I start to unpack my bag. I’ve got a few packs of nuts, protein bars, and a few apples. Not the best spread, but it will last us until tomorrow.

The more pressing problem is my clothes. Because the hike was only supposed to take a few hours, I don’t have any extra dry clothes, and I’m nearly soaked to the bone.

My only option is to take them off.