Page 31 of Blood in the Water
It was meant to be a romantic gesture. Like most of the habitable islands in the Elizabeth Island chain, Gerald had been privately owned for generations. That it had come up for sale when it had had been a small miracle, one Torin Burke hadn’t hesitated to take advantage of.
Unfortunately, Nolan’s mother didn’t consider the rusticnature of the island — there were no roads for cars and no shops, stores, or restaurants — to be romantic. She’d only visited a handful of times before giving up the charade that she was a good sport.
But Nolan had always loved it, and many of his favorite memories with his father had taken place on the island, the two of them swimming in the surf and toasting marshmallows on the beach and playing old LPs on his father’s vintage record player in the living room.
It hadn’t been a surprise when Nolan’s father left the island to him as part of his trust, a gift his mother didn’t begrudge him.
As much as he’d loved it as a kid, Nolan had only been back a handful of times since his father’s death. The place had felt sacred to him, the house large but cozy, with an odd assortment of furnishings that was not to his mother’s taste.
He’d never had the urge to share it with any of the women he’d dated during the years he and Bridget were apart, but somehow it felt like the perfect place for Bridget and her family while he worked with the Syndicate to neutralize Seamus O’Brien.
The sound of running water and clinking silver made its way to him from inside the house where Bridget and her mother were washing dishes. He’d only ever been here alone as an adult, his time occupied with walks on the beach, hours spent reading on the deck with only the sound of waves crashing just offshore, wind blowing through the sea grass, for company. It felt different with Bridget here, like she was breathing life back into the place, just like she’d breathed life back into him.
He could already see it working its magic on her. The trip from Boston to the island had been complicated and arduous, requiring hours of preparation, but her face had litup when she’d looked down at the island, a strip of sand and grass and trees. They’d only been on the island a few hours and the look of stark fear he’d seen in her eyes when he’d arrived at her parents’ house had already begun to dissipate.
He wished he could stay. Wished he could walk the beaches with her and help her mother in the kitchen and joke around with Owen. Wished he could reassure Bridget’s father that he would protect Bridget with his life.
But they had no more time to lose. Getting the Monaghan family to the island on such short notice — to say nothing of the obstacles presented by the tail Seamus had ordered outside Bridget’s house — had taken the entire day. Nolan had called in all kinds of favors, from his father’s old friend who now worked at the FAA and had obscured their flight plans from the general population to the Chief of Staff at Boston General who had arranged for the medevac. It had taken several calls to find a medical attendant for Nolan with an appropriate resume, one whose background could be checked quickly and who was willing to travel at the last minute for an indefinite period of time. Nolan had overpaid everyone, offering them bonuses when the base pay wasn’t enough.
By the time they had everything in place, most of the day was gone. Nolan had ushered Owen and the rest of the family out the back door to avoid Oz, still parked on the street. Will had spent part of the day ripping out one of the fence panels in the Monaghan’s backyard to provide access to the parking lot of the convenience store that backed up to the houses on Bridget’s side of the street, and they’d gotten Owen through it in his wheelchair to meet the medical van Nolan had arranged to get them to the helipad at Boston General.
There hadn’t been room for everyone in the helicopter, and Nolan had steered a his boat out of the harbor and toward the Elizabeth Islands while Owen traveled in the medevac with Eileen and Maurice.
Nolan wondered how long Oz had waited before he realized they were gone.
Nolan had arranged for Harold and Sarah, the Nantucket couple who had been on his father’s payroll for nearly three decades, to make a food delivery and to insure there was plenty of heating oil and wood at the island house. Nolan and the Monaghans had arrived to find the lights on, the house warm and inviting, the fridge stocked. Bridget and her family would have everything they needed to be comfortable while Nolan was gone.
Tomorrow he would teach Bridget to use the gun he’d brought for her. He would try to get Will to stay. Then he would go back to Boston and deal with Seamus.
The French doors off the living room opened and Bridget stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a big sweater that had belonged to Nolan’s father. Nolan often wore it when he came to the island, and he hadn’t been able to stop smiling when he’d watched her pull it on and roll up the sleeves. His father would have loved her.
She rubbed her arms as she came to stand beside him. “It’s freezing out here.”
He pulled her against him. “You shouldn’t be out here, not without a coat.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said. “Plus Dad and Will are playing chess.”
Nolan laughed. Will was the most obnoxious chess player he’d ever met, refusing to bow to the rules of civility normally dictated by the game, even when he was winning.
“How’s Owen handling the transition?” The islandhouse wasn’t equipped for anyone with a disability. Nolan was already planning the retrofits, wondering how long it would take to have a contractor work double time installing the ramps and railing necessary to make it safe and accessible for Owen.
“He’s tired, but he actually seems excited by the change of scenery,” Bridget said.
“I’m going to call Harold in the morning, see if he can lay some plywood from the house to the beach so you can get Owen closer to the water.”
She tightened her arms around him. “You don’t have to do that, Nolan. This is too much as it is. The medevac, the nurse, the helicopter to get the rest of us here… it must have cost a fortune.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I want to make sure you’re all comfortable while you’re here.”
She looked up at him. “But it won’t be long, right?”
Her eyes were shadowed with other questions, and he reached up to stroke her hair. “Probably not.” He sighed. He didn’t want to lie to her. “I don’t know.”
“What will you do?”
“I’m meeting with Christophe tomorrow,” he said, “but we don’t have a lot of options.”
“What are they?” she asked.