Tides of Hope Read online

  He stood, too, waiting until she disappeared through the door to retake his seat.

  When he did, however, his focus wasn’t on his barely touched sandwich…but on the faint traces of lipstick that clung to the napkin he’d dropped into his lap.

  Fingering the square of linen, he thought about Kate’s comment that Maddie knew she was loved. And how that made all the difference.

  That wasn’t true only for children, Craig reflected. Love had once made all the difference in his life, too, thanks to Nicole. And he yearned to find that kind of love again. To fill the empty space in his heart.

  But that wasn’t to be, thanks to the part of the story he hadn’t told Kate.

  The part that proved he never deserved to love—or be loved—again.

  His appetite disappearing, he wadded up the napkin, set it on the table and rose, leaving the rest of his lunch—and his futile dreams—behind.

  Kate took a discreet peek at her watch as Larry Atkins tried to move through the faculty meeting agenda at a brisk pace. But they’d gotten bogged down over a discussion about the deadline for final grades, and now she was late picking up Maddie. Not that Edith would mind. But Maddie would. Her daughter usually watched for her at the window.

  Of course, starting next week, she might be less anxious for her mother’s return—assuming she got along with Craig’s daughter. And there was no reason to think she wouldn’t. Not if the daughter was half as charming as the father.

  Hard to believe that ten days ago she’d thought of the lieutenant as stuffy and arrogant, Kate mused. After their lunch today, she viewed him as grieving and guilt-ridden.

  She also empathized with his loss and understood his guilt. By his own admission, he hadn’t handled his daughter well. Yet she admired him for his willingness to acknowledge his shortcomings—and for taking steps to make things right. That spoke well of his character, and—

  “Kate? Is that a possibility?”

  At Larry’s prompt, she pulled herself back to the meeting. All eyes were aimed at her, and warmth spilled onto her cheeks. “Sorry. I missed the question.”

  “I was telling everyone that our speaker for the career assembly tomorrow bailed, and I asked if anyone knew of a good replacement. Clarie mentioned she’d seen you at lunch today with the new Coast Guard commander, and she thought you might be willing to ask him to fill in.”

  Thanks a lot, Clarie, Kate telegraphed to her coworker.

  The other teacher smirked.

  “I don’t really know him very well, Larry. Our paths have crossed a few times, that’s all.”

  The principal sighed and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “We’re in a bind here, Kate. I can do a cold call, but it would be less awkward for both parties if you could put out a feeler. I can follow up with details if he’s willing to consider it.”

  “It’s such short notice,” Kate stalled, trying to think of a diplomatic way to refuse. Considering how his simple touch of her lips at lunch with her napkin had disrupted her pulse, it would be safer to limit contact with the lieutenant.

  “But it can’t hurt to ask. A lot of these guys have canned speeches available for requests like these. It’s just one phone call, Kate. I’ll bring goodies from Downyflake to the teachers’ lounge tomorrow if you’ll do this.”

  A chorus of voices erupted, encouraging her to grant the principal’s request, and she finally capitulated.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll call him. But I’m not making any promises.”

  “Good enough. Any other business?” When no one spoke, Larry ended the meeting. “I’ll wait to hear from you, Kate. You have my home number if you don’t reach him until later.”

  As the group dispersed, Clarie ambled over. “Sorry to put you on the spot. But I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Things looked pretty cozy between you and the lieutenant.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “So what’s the scoop on your rendezvous?”

  Stuffing her calendar and notebook into her satchel, Kate twisted the latch and stood. “There is no scoop. He wanted to talk to me about having Edith watch his daughter, like she watches Maddie.”

  The other woman’s face fell. “He’s married?”

  Kate was tempted to lie but resisted. Besides, she’d be found out eventually. “Was. His wife died.”

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “I didn’t get a lot of detail.” Kate headed toward the door.

  “So you’re not interested in him, right?” Clarie called after her.

  “Right.”

  That was the truth, Kate tried to tell herself as she pushed through the door. The pursuit of a new relationship wasn’t on her agenda.

  But as the door closed behind her and she went to make the call, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be romanced by the tall, broad-shouldered lieutenant with the amazing blue eyes.

  As she stood at the window of the teachers’ lounge the next day, watching the relentless rain slash through the dreary landscape, Kate sighed and telegraphed a silent question to the gray heavens: How come it’s never easy, Lord?

  No answer came.

  None was expected.

  God didn’t answer questions like that with writing on the sky or in thunderbolts. It all came down to a matter of trust, of believing that all things worked together for good. She knew that. Accepted it.

  But she wasn’t seeing a whole lot of good in the sudden demise of the timing belt on her twelve-year-old Civic—and the accompanying several-hundred-dollar expense.

  Why couldn’t it have waited another six weeks to die? she lamented, shoving her hands into the pockets of her gray slacks. Once the charter season kicked in, the cost wouldn’t be such an issue. But her bank balance was often anemic by April. This year more than usual, thanks to an extra trip to the pediatric pulmonologist and some high-priced tests and medications for Maddie. Her health insurance covered a good percentage of those expenses—but not enough. She’d be operating on fumes after this.

  Chester, bless his heart, had offered to do what he could when he’d dropped her off at school today. For once, though, she doubted his mechanical skills would be able to save her. He was a great tinkerer, but he wasn’t equipped to pull off such a major repair.

  She’d find a way to deal with the expense, though. She always did. Because moving away from the island, as her parents had been forced to do when the cost of living skyrocketed, wasn’t an option.

  “Hey, Kate, aren’t you going to the assembly? After all, you got our speaker.”

  At Clarie’s question, Kate turned her back on the dreary scene outside as two other teachers joined her in the lounge.

  “My sole contribution was a thirty-second call. Larry took it from there.”

  “Personally, I can’t imagine any available woman not going.” Steph, who taught history, responded to Clarie’s question as she rested her hand on the bulge in her tummy. “If I wasn’t already spoken for, and motherhood wasn’t imminent, I’d sit front and center. Did you get a load of that guy?”

  “Yeah.” Clarie responded to Steph’s question. “What a hunk!”

  “I didn’t know you ladies were talking about me.” Hank Kraus, who taught social studies, pushed through the door with a grin, smoothing down his thinning salt-and-pepper hair and patting his slight paunch.

  “Cute, Hank.” Clarie smirked at him. “We were talking about today’s speaker for the career opportunities assembly.”

  “Oh, yeah. I saw him in the lobby. Impressive uniform.”

  “You are staying, aren’t you?” Clarie aimed her query at Kate as she rummaged in her purse for her lipstick.

  “For a few minutes anyway. But I’ll probably sit in the back and sneak out early. I have to deal with some car problems.”

  “I, for one, being available, interested and attractive, intend to sit in the first row,” Clarie announced as she applied her lipstick.

  “Two out of three isn’t bad.” Hank ducked as Clarie aimed a playful swat
in his direction.

  Ten minutes later, after a quick stop in the ladies’ room to run a comb through her hair and touch up her own lipstick, Kate headed for the auditorium, choosing the seat closest to the door in the last row. As she settled in, the principal strode onto the stage.

  “Quiet, please. We’re ready to begin.” He waited until the teenage chatter died down before launching into his introduction. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we were supposed to wrap up our career series with a navy pilot. I know a lot of you were looking forward to hearing from him. However, another commitment has kept him from joining us.”

  A collective groan rolled through the room, and the principal held up his hands. “However, our new Coast Guard commander graciously agreed to step in and take his place. Some of you may have heard about his previous position at headquarters. But you may not be aware of the exciting life he led before he took a desk job in Washington. Today he’s going to share with us some of his experiences as a Coast Guard rescue swimmer. Please welcome Lieutenant Craig Cole.”

  As Craig rose from a seat in the first row, his dark blue dress uniform drawing attention to his broad, powerful shoulders, Kate wanted to sink through the floor. The man had been a rescue swimmer. A member of an elite group of well-trained men and women in superb condition who jumped out of helicopters into raging seas to save lives.

  And she’d hammered him about swimming off Great Point.

  Mortified, Kate considered sneaking out the back door. But before she could make her move, Craig stepped behind the microphone and turned, displaying an impressive array of ribbons above his left pocket.

  And once he began speaking, he held every person in the auditorium—Kate included—spellbound with his stories of dramatic rescues in both the icy Arctic waters off Alaska, where he’d begun his career, and in the tropical seas off Hawaii, which held their own terrors for the unsuspecting.

  During the forty-minute presentation, Kate learned that there were only three hundred rescue swimmers among the thirty-eight thousand men and women on active duty in the Coast Guard; that the attrition rate in the rigorous swimmer training school was higher than fifty percent; and that the term bingo might be a good thing in reference to a square piece of cardboard containing numbers and letters, but it was a very bad thing for a search and rescue team in a Jayhawk.

  She learned something else, as well.

  Craig Cole was a true hero.

  Although he downplayed his role in the rescue operations he described, always giving credit to the entire Jayhawk team, Kate knew that when the flight mechanic gave the signal, he was the one who’d jumped into the churning sea. This was a man who’d put his life on the line to save others. Countless times. Craig might have come to Nantucket from a desk job in Washington, but he’d earned his stripes the hard way.

  Impressed didn’t come close to describing Kate’s reaction.

  Yet…there was a disconnect, she suddenly realized.

  In many of the rescue scenarios he’d described, Craig had talked about the need for flexibility, quick thinking and improvisation. About the importance of modifying procedures to suit unique situations not covered by the cut-and-dried rulebook. But since his arrival in Nantucket, he’d been hard-nosed about enforcing minor safety regulations. Everything had to be done precisely by the book, no matter the circumstances. She hadn’t been his only victim, as she’d later discovered.

  It didn’t make sense.

  However, now wasn’t the time to try and figure it out, she decided, as he wrapped up his talk. Not if she wanted to make a quick exit.

  As the applause died down and a cluster of students surged forward to talk to the commander, Kate used the opportunity to slip out the door.

  Moving down the hall a short distance, she pulled out her cell phone and called Edith. Chester had told her to let him know whenever she was ready to leave, and although the heavy rain might slow him a little, he could make the trip in less than ten minutes. He’d arrive long before Craig finished answering questions from the interested students.

  A busy signal beeped over the line. Waiting sixty seconds, she tried again. Still busy. It had to be Edith, Kate concluded. Chester didn’t like telephones, preferring face-to-face conversations. As a result, his calls rarely lasted more than a minute.

  Frowning, Kate tapped her foot. If Edith’s conversation dragged on too long, she could always duck into the ladies’ room.

  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into the lieutenant there.

  From his position in the front of the auditorium, surrounded by a large group of students clamoring for his attention, Craig caught a quick glimpse of fiery red hair in the back of the room. Kate. Craning his neck, he looked again. But she’d vanished.

  “Do you need to talk to Ms. MacDonald?”

  The astute question from a gangly teen juggling a knapsack who’d zoned in on Craig’s line of sight refocused his attention.

  “No. She seemed to be in a hurry.”

  “Yeah. She’s got a lot on her plate. But she’s never too busy to talk to the students or walk us through a tough assignment. She’s awesome.”

  Considering she was raising her daughter alone, ran a charter fishing operation—also alone—and taught school, the student had picked a good adjective to describe her, Craig concurred.

  “Are there any women rescue swimmers, Lieutenant?”

  The query from an athletic-looking girl forced him to switch gears. “Yes. A few.”

  For the next fifteen minutes he fielded questions, until the principal stepped forward and reminded the students their rides were waiting and that Craig had to get back to work.

  “I’ll tell you what. If any of you have other questions, give me a call at my office. I’ll be happy to answer them.” He withdrew some business cards from his pocket and passed them around.

  As the students broke up, he shook hands with the principal, accepted the man’s thanks for being a last-minute substitute and headed toward the door where Kate had disappeared. But he wasn’t surprised when a quick scan of the hall revealed no one with red hair.

  Stifling a surge of disappointment, he strode toward the entrance.

  “Lieutenant!”

  At the summons, he turned. A thirty-something blonde smiled and approached.

  “I’m Clarie Peterson.” She extended her hand. “I teach math here, and I wanted to say I thought your talk was very informative and inspiring.”

  “Thank you.” He retrieved his hand with a gentle tug.

  “Of course, I’m sure you barely scratched the surface in the short amount of time you had. I, for one, would be fascinated to hear more of your stories. I wondered if I might buy you a cup of coffee sometime?”

  Keeping his PR smile in place, Craig searched for a diplomatic way to refuse the invitation. “I’m glad you enjoyed the presentation, Ms. Peterson. And that’s a very kind offer. The thing is, I’m still learning the ropes at the station, and—”

  The ladies’ room door opened, and Craig suddenly found himself looking into a pair of startled green eyes below a flaming halo of hair. Sending a fervent thank-you heavenward, his smile changed from PR to the real thing.

  “Kate. I was hoping to catch you. Do you have a minute?” He telegraphed a silent SOS, praying she’d catch the signal.

  Her gaze flickered to Clarie, and she smiled back at him. “Sure.”

  Message received. Thank you, Lord!

  The blonde’s eyes narrowed as she sized them up.

  “Clarie!” Hank waved from down the hall. “We need to run or we’ll be late for the get-together at Brotherhood.”

  “I’ll be there in a sec,” Clarie called over her shoulder. Tipping her head, she gave Craig a forced smile. “The offer of coffee stands. You can always reach me through the school. See you later, Kate.”

  Not until she disappeared around the corner did Craig speak. “Thank you.”

  Kate gave him an empathetic smile. “Clarie can come on a little strong
. She got divorced about three years ago and lately she’s been on the prowl. But the pickings are somewhat limited. So when someone like you shows up…” She shook her head, and her smile grew rueful. “A rescue swimmer, no less. I’m embarrassed about my faux pas at Great Point.”

  “Don’t be. You were right.” He shoved one hand in the pocket of his slacks. “I took a foolish chance. And your dressing-down was a wake-up call. You’ll be happy to know I’ve been more prudent in my swimming locations since then.”

  “Thanks for being gracious about it. Anyway, Clarie’s a lovely person. You’d enjoy her company.”

  “I’m not in the market.” Without giving Kate a chance to linger on that comment, he changed subjects. “The guy who called your friend mentioned a gathering. I hope I’m not keeping you from a social engagement.”

  “No. Making small talk isn’t my thing. Besides, my time is too—” The ring of her cell phone cut her off, and she retrieved it from her purse. “Would you excuse me for a second?”

  “No problem.”

  As Craig listened to the one-sided conversation, it became clear Kate was relying on Chester to pick her up. Leaning over, he spoke close to her ear. “Do you need a ride?”

  She shot him a quick glance. Hesitated. “Can you hold a minute, Edith?” Pressing the mute button, she shook her head. “Thanks. I’ve got it covered.”

  “But I’m here. Chester’s not. Why not save him a trip on this rainy day? Besides—” he gave her what he hoped was a persuasive smile “—you rescued me a few minutes ago. One good turn deserves another.”

  Craig wasn’t sure why he was pushing—other than the fact he liked being around Kate MacDonald. In her presence, he felt more alive than he had in three long years. She was engaging, energizing and appealing—not to mention lovely.

  In other words, he was attracted to her.

  And that was dangerous. He ought to be backing off, not forging ahead. That would be the smart thing to do.

  The flicker of indecision in her eyes told him she was uncertain, too. If he gave her an excuse to decline, he suspected she’d take it.