Siren's Call Read Free Page B

correct the notion, he signaled his understanding. “Is she hard to work for?”
    The skipper sucked his lower lip against his bottom teeth, then spat again. “That’s saying a mouthful.” He flashed a grin, showing more of his gums than teeth. “I reckon you’re about the fifth or maybe sixth man I’ve taken across in the last few months.”
    Kenneth grimaced at the idea of nursing on a wad of tobacco. Disgusting habit, worse than his own addiction to nicotine. At least he tried to be polite about his smokes. “That’s a lot of men,” he yelled back. The mental picture of a sour old fishwife was beginning to take shape. The woman sounded like a shrew from hell, impossible to please.
    The old sea dog guided the skiff up beside a small dock reigning over a rocky shoal; more than a little creaky and none too well cared for. Battered by the elements, it clearly wouldn’t survive many more storms. “Tessa’s a real ballbuster,” he spat, throttling the Evinrude into blissful silence. “No man can satisfy her, no matter how hard he works.” He briefly scrubbed a hand across his silvery whiskers. “Nobody lasts more than a week—maybe two—before they head back to the mainland. No man has managed to stand up to her yet.”
    “You’re still around.”
    “Gwen—that’s her sister—pays me to bring over the supplies and do a little tinkering with the lighthouse radio system. Past that . . .” He shook his head. “I’m too damn old to put up with any woman’s lashing tongue.”
    Kenneth nodded his understanding. That made sense. “So Tessa never leaves the island?”
    The skipper stood up and expertly looped a rope around one pillar to keep the skiff from drifting. Unloading a few items onto the dock, the old man climbed out of the boat. “The Lonikes have always kept to themselves, minded their own business. Tessa’s sisters are nice enough, I suppose, seeing as they work in town. I like ’em both. As for Tessa, she’s best left to herself.”
    Kenneth began to rethink the day’s journey. Perhaps hitching a ride to the island wasn’t such a wise notion after all. “Maybe I’d better stay here,” he ventured.
    The old salt snorted. “Tucking your tail between your legs?”
    Those were fighting words. And one thing Kenneth had already decided in this life was that he wasn’t backing away from anything ever again. He’d folded like a wet paper sack once. A second time wouldn’t be acceptable. Besides, it wasn’t like he actually wanted the damn job. He’d simply find the woman, and thank her.
    Simple enough.
    Fighting to keep his balance, which wasn’t half as assured as the skipper’s, Kenneth scrambled onto the dock. Though the ride hadn’t taken more than ten minutes, he felt better having his feet closer to solid land.
    He eyed the sign prominently nailed to a post. NO TRESPASSING. The locals clearly respected the privacy of people living off the mainland and their desire for peace and solitude. As an uninvited guest, he had to wonder how soon it would be before the island’s reclusive owner sent him packing. Too late to second-guess my decision now .
    “What’s she like?” he asked, wanting to keep the conversation going just a moment longer.
    The skipper shrugged. “She’s as stubborn and ornery as a jackass. She won’t listen to anyone and does what she damn well wants when she wants to. As for answering to a man . . . not anytime soon. You can take her, or leave her.” A chuckle slipped between his chaw-stained lips. “Most of ’em leave.”
    “Got a feeling I’ll be leaving soon,” Kenneth muttered under his breath. Pushing his sunglasses up onto his head, he surveyed the island stretched out in front of him. A strange sense of familiarity crept in, seeping up from the darker corners of his mind.
    The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose. His lungs seemed to freeze, holding on to the oxygen. Bit by bit, a sense of recognition began to return. Even though the sky held