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Chapter Three
Port of Call: Grand Cayman
Brent blinked at
the suddenness of the turnaround in the counseling session as the elderly woman
lit into him.
“You’re not
married? How can you possibly know what we’re going through if you’re not even
married?”
Her husband
patted her hand. “Now, Ida, let the poor boy be.”
She swept her
icy glare toward her husband. “There is nothing he can say to me. I wish I’d
never agreed to this silly cruise.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I
want to go home.”
Brent opened his
mouth then shut it again. What could he say? He’d wanted off this ship too, at
first. He gave the besieged husband what he hoped was an encouraging smile as
the man rose to leave.
“Thank you for
your time, Mr. Teague, and sorry about all this,” the man said. “Come on, Ida,
the ship’s about ready to dock. You wanted to go shopping on Grand Cayman.”
Brent stood then
paused.
Ida had not
budged.
Her gaze
challenging, she rose and strode toward the door. As she passed Brent, she
poked his arm with a well-manicured nail. “You can learn a lot watching us old
folks, son. There’s a right way to settle an argument. Give the little woman
what she wants. My husband’s taking me shopping. He knows how to calm a storm.”
Giving the older
couple a few minutes to get to the elevator, Brent went to his room and changed
into running shorts, shoes, and a muscle tee. He grabbed a bottle of water and
his sunglasses and headed out. He needed a good sweat to get rid of all the
built-up tension. If he decided to remain a pastor, he was thinking maybe a children’s
pastor. No more marriage counseling. At least not until he was married and had
a little more experience. He’d heard more than he’d ever cared to know in that
last session.
In the
disembarkation area, he paused long enough to cast a cautious glance one way
then the other. He’d purposely waited until most everyone had boarded a tender,
leaving fewer members of the animal kingdom to fend off. He stifled a grin.
Cougars and vultures.
During the short
tender ride to the dock, a tall blonde woman asked if he’d like to share a cab
with her. “Well, not just me. My best friend is already over there, shopping.
We’re headed to Seven Mile Beach.”
Brent took in
her wan appearance and red-rimmed eyes. Drama. No, thank you. “I’m going for a
run, but thanks anyway.”
Her gaze swept
over him. She shrugged. “Maybe another time?”
With what he
hoped was a noncommittal smile, Brent moved to the rail, his attention on the
town before him. Rainbow colored buildings lined the shore—vibrant and
lively—inviting. He looked forward to an invigorating run.
He’d planned to
make a quick getaway as soon as the ferry docked, until his gaze rested on the
face of an angel. Rich, dark hair cascaded from a knot on top of her head, as
if she’d tried to contain it but lost the battle. The result stole his breath.
He swallowed and pressed forward, after realizing he’d blocked the other
passengers from disembarking. On the dock, he stepped aside. He didn’t wish to
alarm the woman by staring, but he wondered, was she waiting to depart? Heading
back to the ship? Perhaps he should go back too. He could always work out
later, in the gym.
The spindly,
blonde woman touched his arm as she passed. “That’s my friend you’re staring
at—the one I’m meeting—we’re taking a taxi to the beach.” She leaned in close. “Sure
you won’t change your mind?”
He opened his
mouth to speak. He was actually tempted. The beautiful brown-skinned angel
approached. She wore a golden yellow sun dress that set off matching highlights
in her hair. A bright red hibiscus bloom was tucked into the left strap of her
dress. But her eyes, like jade, held … surprise? She dropped her gaze and his
heart fell, too, into his shoes, and he was reminded of why he was on the
island. Smile, dummy, act like you got
some sense. Oh man, now his sister was talking in his head.
He sucked in a
breath. “No, I … I really do need to get in a good run. Thanks, though.”
Forcing his attention to the blonde, he pushed his hand forward. “Brent Teague.
I’m the ship’s chaplain.” His gaze drifted back to their former mooring.
The angel’s eyes
met his for a moment then darted to a point on the horizon.
Blondie gripped
his hand. One brow arched as she sent a glance toward her friend. “Chaplain?
Well, I’m LouAnne Lowry, and this is my best friend, Eliana Grayson.”
When LouAnne
finally released his hand, Brent managed a nod in Eliana’s direction. Even her
name sounded angelic. She watched him now, a little like a cat eying a juicy
mouse. He cleared his throat. “Maybe I’ll see you a little later—at the beach.”
Eliana ducked
behind LouAnne, hiding her expression. LouAnne’s smile set her face aglow. “I
hope so. I’ve heard it’s one of the loveliest spots on the island—not to be
missed.”
As Brent broke
into a jog, he glanced over his shoulder. The two had been swallowed up by a
sea of fresh tourists, disembarking from another cruise ship’s ferry. He blew
out a breath and increased his pace, bent on running fast and hard and somehow
ending up at that strip of beach before the day was too far gone.
****
One thing was
certain, Grand Cayman did not disappoint. He’d finally made his way to the
white sands of Seven Mile Beach, which, according to the pamphlet stuffed in
the pocket of his running shorts, was really only about five and a half miles
long. He slowed to a loping stride made awkward by sand and adjusted his dark
glasses, watching for the ladies as he ran. The beach was not overly crowded.
After strolling
for a quarter of an hour, his gaze settled on a bright yellow sundress. Only
the third one he’d seen so far. There she was, next to a big, black beach bag,
seated on a blue beach towel, gazing out to sea. He approached slowly, not wanting
to alarm her, all the while sweeping the beach for Blondie. Eliana turned her
head as he drew near, those jade orbs hidden behind sunglasses, making it
difficult to tell if he was welcome. A smile flashed, momentary, but inviting.
She patted a lime-green towel next to her. “You can join me, if you like.
LouAnne stepped away.”
He eased his
large frame onto the small towel and crossed his arms over his knees. “Where’d
she take off?” He really only cared about the angelic creature beside him, but
thought it best to show an interest in the one who’d invited him.
Eliana’s gaze
had returned to the water, and the antics of a couple of windsurfers. “She got
a phone call—her ex-fiancé.”
“Is that a good
thing, his calling?”
Eliana turned
her head in his direction. With the sun almost directly in her face, he could
easily see her eyes through the dark lenses. She gazed at him for several
seconds. “He left her three weeks before the wedding, nearly four weeks ago.”
Brent
straightened. So recent, yet they were on a singles’ cruise—on a love boat? He
bit back a quick response. None of his business.
Her lips curved
into a shy smile. “They were supposed to be on this cruise together … as
newlyweds.”
A spark went off
inside his chest, a tiny ray of hope. Maybe she wasn’t on the hunt. He sifted
sand through his fingers, exulting in its smooth warmth. “So she brought you
instead?”
“She was
devastated. I’m her best friend.” Eliana reached up to tuck a strand of hair
into its bindings. It held for about two seconds then plopped back down. “So,
what does a chaplain do on board ship?”
He felt a little
like one of those windsurfers tossed on a wave at the sudden change of subject.
“Not a whole lot, so far.” The noise around them surged as someone scored in a
game of volleyball. He tossed Eliana a grin. “This is my first time out.”
“How do you like
it?”
“Actually, it’s
not that bad.” Except for dodging desperate females. Not gonna mention that.
“You expected it
to be bad?” Her gaze shifted as she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. She
tilted her head forward, looking past him.
Brent frowned.
What was she looking at? Some Adonis on the other side from them? Should he
answer her question or wait until her attention returned? Her fingertips
brushed his arm, sending electrical transmissions to his brain. She glanced at
him then tipped her head forward, as if she wanted him to look also. He slid
his eyes sideways. Gah! There, on the bag beside them, not ten inches away from
Brent’s right arm, sat the biggest lizard he’d ever seen, and it was looking
back at him. Brent swallowed. Don’t show fear. Must protect the lady.
“Isn’t she
gorgeous?” the lady said, startling Brent out of his stupor.
“She?”
“A blue iguana.
See the blue tinge? They’re not so blue this time of year, only when they’re
laying their eggs.”
“Eggs?” He gazed
about him then back at the small dinosaur in front of him. Its tongue darted
out. Were they territorial? “Are we sitting on buried lizard eggs?”
A most beautiful
sound danced a melody on his eardrums. Chortling laughter. Was she laughing at
him? He peeled his eyes from the riveting primal gaze of the lizard to the
gorgeous jade one at his side. Yep. She was laughing at him. But the sound was
so endearing, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and—best not follow that
train of thought. He smoothed his hand over his head.
She pushed up
from her towel and grabbed her backpack. “Would you like to take a walk, Mr.
Teague?”
He moved more
slowly, ever mindful of the saber-toothed creature to his right. “Call me
Brent, and yes, I would.”
Several minutes
later, she was still giggling. It wasn’t that funny.
The sound of
steel drums echoed across the water from a party boat filled with tourists. With
Eliana by his side, he strode past the volleyball players who were still hard
at it. He cleared his throat. “You think your friend is okay? It’s been a
while.”
Eliana glanced
up at him. “LouAnne? Oh, they’ll talk forever. She’ll probably be back at our
spot when we return.”
“They’re
talking, though.”
Eliana shrugged.
“Yes, they’re talking.”
For the next few
minutes, he and Eliana chatted about everything. Their favorite food, their
hometowns, their shared faith. He watched her as she talked, making the usual
mental comparison. Though every bit as beautiful as Mara, she was different, in
several ways. She’d seemed shy at first, but had opened up, especially when
sharing her faith.
“I was a messed
up teenager, and ended up in trouble. I thought it was probably hereditary. I’d
been teased all my life about my … well, the circumstances of my birth.”
Brent watched
her face for a clue. What did she mean by that?
Her eyes met
his. “My father, a football player, had an affair. And then … me.”
In two beats of
his heart, Brent made the connection. “Grayson … Beau?” Well-known Christian quarterback for the Dolphins, had an affair
with his Latina housekeeper, Beau—fell-from-grace—Grayson? “That was you?”
“Umm … yes.”
He stole a
glance at her beautiful profile—Beau Grayson’s daughter. “That must have been
hard.”
She nodded then
gazed out to sea. “My mother died when I was twelve, so Beau and his second
wife adopted me.”
Second wife,
which probably meant the first one kicked him out for the indiscretion. Brent
could understand that. But, if he remembered right, Beau hung in there, got his
life straightened out. Could’ve been worse.
Sighting a
beach-side cafe, he asked Eliana if she was hungry.
Her bright smile
sunk a hook deep into his heart. She stepped toward the cafe. “I could eat. I
think I’ll check in with LouAnne, though.” She dug in her bag for her phone and
sent a text.
The place was
brimming with tourists. Brent led her to the nearest empty table and pulled out
a chair. After placing an order, he turned to Eliana. “You said you got into
trouble as a teen. Is that what led you to the Lord?”
Eliana’s phone
pinged. She checked the message. “LouAnne will meet us later, at the dock. She
had to go someplace in town and charge her phone.” Her lips curved into a shy
smile as she tucked her phone back into her backpack. “I really don’t know why
I’ve told you so much. I don’t usually. You’re easy to talk to.”
And
you’re easy to look at. Brent folded his arms on the table
and leaned forward. “So I’ve been told. Comes in handy when you’re in the ministry.”
A Beach Boys tune started up in the background. Or was it Jan and Dean? He
could never keep those straight.
“The answer to
your question is, yes. A youth pastor led me to the Lord. I had a lot to
overcome, so the road wasn’t an easy one, but I’m glad I stuck with it. How
about you, Brent? What’s your story?”
Their waiter
arrived with heaping plates of aromatic seafood. Brent’s story was put on hold
as he bowed his head and thanked God for the food and the time he’d enjoyed
with this lovely young woman.
She watched as
he lifted his head. He guessed she waited for his response to her question. He
gave her the condensed version, leaving out one major part—that which involved
a certain brunette. No need to totally humiliate himself.
After the meal,
they strode back the way they’d come, past the volleyball net, now abandoned. They
danced along the surf, shoes in hand. The music of her laughter echoed off the
water and lodged in his heart.
Back where they
started, Brent glanced around for any sign of their prehistoric friend. He
helped Eliana pack the towels in her beach bag, hoping the creature hadn’t
somehow found its way inside. Then he slung the bag over his shoulder.
Side-by-side, he and Eliana set off across the sand to the street, where they
hailed a taxi.
They found
LouAnne seated on a bench, reading a magazine. “’Bout time you two showed up.”
“Ready to head
back?” Eliana asked, stopping directly in front of her.
LouAnne tucked
the magazine in her bag and stood, her gaze bouncing between her friend’s face
and Brent’s. He could not quite identify the look in her eyes. Was it guilt? He
stepped past her, leading the way to the landing.
As they waited
for the next boat to ferry them across, LouAnne related bits and pieces of her
conversation with Lamar, her ex-fiancé, who may have earned back his status as
husband-to-be. Brent mentally agreed with Eliana when she asked LouAnne whether
Lamar could be trusted.
LouAnne shifted
her gaze toward the approaching boat. “That remains to be seen. He’s got some
groveling to do.”
The trip back to
the ship seemed a lot shorter than Brent remembered. Maybe because LouAnne
chattered non-stop. Brent would have preferred more time alone with Eliana.
Back on board,
they said their good-byes, at least for the time being.
“Thanks for
keeping me company today,” Eliana said, barely making eye contact. Apparently,
her shyness had returned.
Realizing he
still held her beach bag, Brent pushed it forward. “My pleasure, El.”
LouAnne gave his
arm a playful swat. “Oh, she doesn’t like to be called El.”
Brent watched
the color rise in Eliana’s cheeks, which only heightened her beauty. Her eyes
sparked as she reached for her bag. “He can call me El if he wants.”
LouAnne arched
her brows at him and turned down the corners of her lips. As they walked away,
she sent him a quick thumb’s up behind Eliana’s back.
****
His heart soared
as he took the steps two-at-a-time and strode to his door. After a shower, he
donned his uniform and prepared for dinner.
Danny whistled
at him when he approached the dining room. “You look like a man on a mission.
Meet somebody, did ya?”
Brent had no
intention of allowing Danny a glimpse of Eliana. Brent would never hear the end
of it. “Just had a good run today. Got some exercise. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh, right.
I thought I saw you hanging around with a blonde. Didn’t think you cared for
blondes. I thought you were a brunette kind of guy.”
Brent sent him a
scowl and a wave and set off across the room, trying to look nonchalant, barely
escaping the clutches of a redheaded female passenger he’d no wish to see
again. When she caught sight of Danny and bee-lined for him, Brent chuckled. He
focused on the room again, and found Eliana, looking all svelte in a gold
strapless dress that hugged all the right places. He quickly averted his eyes
and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for his ability to locate her. But a
quickie prayer could not assuage the niggling something scratching at his
conscience.
Yes, he was
doing it again. Falling headlong into a honey-laden trap. Throughout dinner,
that “still, small voice” whispered to his heart, Proceed with caution. At the same time, his sister’s strident, “You
wasted six years,” echoed in his head.
He’d been so
sure of Mara. Never even second-guessed her feelings for him. How could he trust
his feelings now, or even God’s voice, with so much at stake? On top of
everything else, his life had been turned upside-down, like a house in the
process of spring cleaning. He’d no right to invite someone into it. So why did
his lips betray him by mouthing the words, “Can I call you sometime?” He knew
he’d blundered, right away, even before an odd light flashed in Eliana’s eyes.
Her gaze fell to her fingers as she fiddled with her napkin.
After what
seemed an eternity to Brent, she drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Her
eyes found his. “That trouble I got into as a teenager—he’s five now—and I’m
very careful who I allow into our small circle.”
Somewhere
nearby, a waiter dropped a platter, sending a loud, clattering echo through the
room. Brent felt like his heart had hit the floor, right alongside that dish.
But his estimation of Eliana skyrocketed. She had a child, and she was
concerned about who came into contact with the boy. Brent relaxed, allowing his
lips to curve upward. This was one fine woman.
****
Brent didn’t see
Eliana or LouAnne the next day. He stayed busy performing the daily functions
required by his position, and visiting among the passengers. He had to admit,
hers was definitely one of the sweetest rejections he’d ever received. Though
his heart ached a little, he had no regrets.
He stood at the
rail, watching the sunset in a glorious profusion of color, when he heard a voice.
“Brent!”
Brent stopped
and angled his head toward the approaching woman. LouAnne’s face seemed to
glow, but he supposed it must be a reflection of the sun’s splendor.
“I wanted to
tell you good-bye. I’m jumping ship. Going back to the States to get married to
the man who tried to get away.”
“Well, I suppose
congratulations are in order. So, is Eliana sailing on?”
“No, silly.”
LouAnne handed him a pink sticky note. “We couldn’t get a flight together, and
she thought it best—as maid of honor—to fly out ahead of me to make sure
everything goes well. She wanted you to have this. That was her excuse, but I
think she was anxious to get back for other reasons.”
Brent nodded.
Eliana had left without a proper good-bye. Well, she didn’t owe him one. “I’ll
be praying for a nice wedding and a blessed marriage,” he said as LouAnne
threaded her way through the crowd.
As the last few
rays of the sun broke across the evening sky, Brent looked at the sticky note
LouAnne had given him. Warmth filled his heart at what he saw: Eliana’s e-mail
address.
Come back tomorrow for Chapter Four!
Shore Excursions:
Wednesday:
Write Integrity: Chapter
Three
Marji Laine’s blog:
Julie Arduini:
Fay Lamb’s On the
Ledge:
Tuesday:
Write Integrity:
Betty Thomason Owens:
Marji Laine’s blog:
Elizabeth Noyes:
Fay Lamb’s On the Ledge:
Monday:
Write Integrity:
Marji Laine blog:
Fay Lamb:
Marji Laine:
Interviewed on Lena Nelson Dooley’s Blog
Marji Laine:
Interview on Carole Towriss blog: 8 Reasons Romance is a Joke
Julie Arduini:
