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“What are you doing?”

Estelle hid something behind her back, guilt washing over her face.

Three days had passed since the storm and we’d finally dried our clothing, relined our beds with fresh leaves, and grown accustomed to having a reservoir of water where we could drink when we wanted without waiting for the trees to provide.

Our supply wouldn’t last forever, but for now...we were reckless with our thirst and drank often.

“Nothing.”

I hauled myself to my feet. I’d spent the morning plaiting flax into rope. I had a plan to put a roof over our head and four walls around our bodies, but in order to do that, I needed something to build with. I didn’t have screws or nails (the ones from the chopper wouldn’t work), so rope would have to do.

Once I knew how to create using island fare, a raft was on my agenda.

“It is something. Show me.” I hopped toward her.

“Don’t. Forget it. It was a stupid idea.”

“No, show me.” I moved as quick as I could, hoping she wouldn’t dart away. Holding my hand out, I glared until she pulled whatever she was hiding and placed it into my palm.

My heart wrenched to a stop. “Your phone.”

She nodded.

“Did you manage to call someone? Is that what you’re doing?”

Her eyes widened, filling with apology. “No. I’ve tried every night and nothing.”

“Then why torture yourself?” I ached to comfort her. I would never say it aloud, but here, on this island, even with the trials of surviving and the fear of what would happen, I was happier than I’d been in a long time. The thought of Estelle pining for a life where I wouldn’t be welcome hurt me a lot more than I could admit.

Since our kiss in the rain, we’d kept our distance. Partly for the children’s sake, but mostly because, if I kissed her again, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

And Estelle wasn’t ready for more.

She wanted me; I knew that. But she was hesitant about how far to go. I hadn’t figured out why yet, but I respected her desire for slowness.

“That isn’t what I was doing.” She flinched as if telling me her secret physically pained her.

“I don’t understand.”

She dropped her head. “Go to the gallery. You’ll see.”

Propping myself up with my crutch, I navigated the menu and pulled up the pictures. My mouth fell open as the first image exploded in vibrant pigment. “Why did you do this?”

I’d expected images of her past life, perhaps photos of a past boyfriend (who I would like to murder) or friends who thought she was dead. Not this. Not...me.

“Why?” Her eyebrows rose. “Why not? Isn’t that what humans do? We store memories to look back on later. Happy, sad, it doesn’t matter. We gather them for future use.”

“That’s what you’re doing?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if we’ll ever get off this island, and I don’t know how much longer my phone will last, but I wanted to honour whatever we lived through with the same cataloguing as I would any other adventure.”

“By taking pictures of us?” My hands shook as I scrolled. She’d taken photos stealthily: me plaiting rope. Conner and Pippa crouched on their haunches, digging for clams. A selfie of her with the helicopter crash in the background.

I paused on the one of me sleeping in the dark. My beard had grown in, and I looked in pain even as I slept. “When did you take this?”

“The night before the rain came.”

I switched to the selfie of her standing alone on the beach—the moon etching her in silver and the shapes of us sleeping in the background. It was a haunting image. It sent shivers down my back.

“Wow.”

She tried to take it back. “Anyway, it was a bad idea. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Upset me? Why would I be upset?”

“Because I took pictures of you without your consent.”

I chuckled. “Estelle, knowing I mean enough to you that you want to photograph me for future memories is the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She blushed. “So...you’re not mad?”

“Why the hell would I be mad?”

Her lips twitched. “I just said why.”

My insides warmed as fresh desire thickened my blood. My gaze locked on her mouth. “Christ, I want to kiss you again.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You can’t. The children are right there. I don’t want to have to explain—”

“They’re not newborns, Stel. They get what kissing is.”

“Yes, well. I just...I want them to be happy. It’s too soon after their parents’ death. Change isn’t good for them.” She trailed off, tucking sun-bleached blonde behind her ear. “Just...give it time. Okay?”

My heart hurt but I grinned. She didn’t notice I’d used her nickname. And I didn’t let her see how honoured I was to use it. I was allowed. Even though I’d done nothing to deserve it. “That I can give you. What other commodity do we have but time?”

She laughed, but it was forced. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Looking away, I flicked the phone from gallery to camera and tapped the video recorder. “Now, how about instead of taking sneaky pictures, we do this the right way?” Holding the lens up, I captured her beauty. Freckles had appeared on her nose and the salt and wind had banished any hint that she’d been a city girl, replacing her polished smoothness with survivalist edges.