Love Long Gone

"The tide will be down tomorrow morning," he said. "We can see if there's a storm surge or if we can get you to land then. And yes, that means you're stuck here for the night. What's your name?"

"Iris. Iris Mackenzie."

"Well, Iris-Iris-Mackenzie, I'm J.L. Townes. I'll try to make you comfortable until then."

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened. "Ohmygod!" she whispered, "You're her!"  Then, instantly, "I mean, him."

"Yep," he replied thinly. "Boo Radley in person."

The girl didn't smile. Either she hadn't done much reading or didn't think much of his sense of humor.

"The stew should be warm by now," he said. "I'll look for those crutches later. For right now, you can eat where you are or I can help you into the kitchen."

"Um, I think I'd like a table, please." She rose, stood swaying on one foot, tried a little weight on the other. She winced but managed to take a few hesitant steps.

J.L. came to her side, put his arm around her waist, felt her arm around his own. It was a comfortable weight. As they limped their way into the kitchen, he was aware of their hips against each other. It had been a long time since he had last felt anything like that.

The kitchen was big and airy, but obviously no newer than the house. A central island dominated the room, crenellated with a row of copper pots hanging over it. There were two old-style commercial ovens. There might have been a third at one time, but the space was now filled with a modern stainless-steel upright freezer. A large pine table surrounded by matching chairs stood at one end of the room. Everything was spotless, but obviously little-used. There were some framed photographs, a faded world map and a couple of shadow boxes on the wall.

J.L. helped her sit down. The smell of stew had filled the room. He ladled some into two bowls, placed one on the table in front of her, placed the other across from her. He filled two glasses of cider before sitting down. A half loaf of corn bread already lay on the table between them.

"This is really good!" Iris said, spooning stew into her mouth. "What is it?"

"Venison," he replied. "Home grown potatoes, parsnip, carrots, kale. Some other stuff."

The girl stopped, looked at her spoon.

"'Venison'? Deer meat?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I've never had that before." She looked down at her spoon. She took another hesitant taste, resumed eating. "You're a good cook."

"Thank you." He put down his spoon, rested his head on his hands and looked at her. "Now would you like to tell me why you were so keen on getting yourself on the Net?"

She blushed. "You mean that's for real? They said it was all a joke."

"Nothing funny about it. I treasure my privacy. I don't want to press charges unless I have to and landmines are illegal hereabouts. So, yeah."

The blush deepened. "Ohmygod," she said again. "I'm so embarrassed. Nobody has seen you in like forever. It's like you're just a fable, some sort of a joke."

"I'm real enough. What were you looking for in the first place?"

"It was just a dare, some girls at the sorority dared me to... go sunbathing here. They said lots of people do it. But I tripped on the beach and hurt myself and then the storm started."

"You're a student at the college?"

She nodded. "Second year marketing."

"Where are your clothes?"

"I dropped them on the beach when I tripped."

"Mmmph. Washed 'way down the coast by now."

"No! My phone, my ID. Oh, hell! And my keys!"

"Well, I'll take a walk down there tomorrow morning and see if I can find anything. It's all underwater now."

"But what am I going to do if I can't find them?"

"You'll do what's needful, I guess. Worry about it in the morning."

J.L. looked at her. The storm was in full cry outside and the house creaked with the wind. He saw sudden unease in her eyes at the sound.

"The house was built over 125 years ago," he reassured her. "I think it's likely to be here tomorrow."

She tried to smile, running her fingers through her damp hair.

"I don't suppose you have a hair dryer?" she asked. "This is going to be one long tangle otherwise."

"Probably not." He ran his hand over his close-cropped scalp, grinned. "I have a comb though."

"May I? Please?"

J.L. thought for a second, went upstairs into one of the disused rooms. He returned carrying a matching set of silver-handled brush and horn comb. They were engraved with the name Evelyn  in ornate script. He put them on the table in front of her. "I'd forgotten about these," he said. "They were my mother's. I didn't want to throw them out."

He walked around behind her and looked down at her hair. "Yep, pretty much a mess. May I help?"

She paused for a second, then nodded, He began at the bottom, gently but firmly taking the snarls out.

"May I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Your mother...?"

"She and my father died in a car accident five years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She pointed at one of the photos on the wall, a newer one. "That looks like you -- without the beard I mean."

"Yes."

"Who's the woman with you? She looks much too young to be your mother."

"That's Sandy. My wife."

"Oh. Is she here with you?"

There was a very long pause.

"She's with me every day, Iris. But she died in the same crash."

"Oh," the girl said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt."

"It's all right."

"May I ask what happened?"

"I'd been... away. They were coming to pick me up at the airport," he said quietly. "A wheel came loose from a semi on the highway, crossed the median and hit them full on in the other lane. It was quick, at least."

She spun around, almost dragging the comb from his hand. Blue eyes were filling with tears in sympathy.

"That's horrible! I'm so sorry."

"It is what it is. I prefer to think about the good times we had before then."

"How long had you been married?"

"Almost four years. It was a good time, even if I was away a lot."

"Away? Where, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was in the Army. They were coming to pick me up after my last tour." He shrugged. He'd obviously thought about it many times.

"But what about you?" he asked. "Your sorority sisters -- am I going to have to deal with the Coast Guard prowling around looking for you when you don't come home tonight?"

She thought for a second. "I don't think so."

"Again, do you want to use my computer to let them know?"

"Not right now."

"No irate boyfriend?"

"Nobody steady."

+

"You have a choice," he stated. "The library is the warmest room in the house; you could sleep on the sofa in there. Or I could open up a bedroom upstairs for you. More private, a better bed, but maybe not as warm."

"Where's your bedroom?" Iris asked, impishly, then noticed the look on his face. Woah!  she thought.

"I'm sorry," she said hastily. "Just trying to make a joke. I'm really grateful, J.L. Thank you for your kindness."

The bleak look faded, turned into a thin smile. "Other side of the pantry," he said, pointing. "And the door'll be locked."

Now the look was on her face, at least until she saw the growing grin.

"I'll take the library, thank you." She hopped around the table, bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You've been really good to me, J.L. I do appreciate it."

He helped her back to the couch, fetched sheets, a pillow and blanket and a clean towel.

"You can leave the door open or shut," he said. "If you shut it, the dogs might scratch on the door to be let in. This is where they normally sleep."

Iris nodded solemnly. "Oh. Would it be better if I was in another room?"

"Naw. They're big sissies, actually. If you let them in, they'll just curl up in front of the fire."

As if on cue, Bonnie stuck her head into the room, pushed by J.L. and did precisely that.

"If there's nothing else you need, Iris, I'm going to turn in."

"I'll be fine, J.L. You can leave the door open. Both of them."

+

The storm had broken by the time J.L. woke up the next morning. He padded into the kitchen, stopped half-way and returned to his bedroom to put on some clothes. He put coffee on before tiptoeing to the library door. Without going in, he listened, heard deep breathing. The two dogs emerged quietly, wagging their tails. Kneeling, he patted both of them, scratched behind their ears.

Leaving Iris to sleep, he let the dogs out the kitchen door before making and pouring a mug of coffee and taking it outside. The woods were dripping but the day promised to be a fine one. After a bit, he took a mesh bag and started back along the beach path. The dogs followed, then bounded ahead of him.

The shotgun, although beaded with rainwater, was still in place. J.L. opened it, ejected the shells and checked the barrels for obstructions before reloading it.

He strolled along the beach in search of Iris' belongings, but found only a red pair of panties snagged on a low bush. He was about to give up when Bonnie gave a low 'Woof' and scratched at the sand. Barely visible was a thin leather strap which, when pulled on, proved to be fastened to small purse.

"Good girl!" he said, scratching her head again. More tail-wagging.

With purse and panties stuffed in the bag and his shotgun over one shoulder, he returned to the house. Iris was still asleep and didn't appear on the porch until he was just about finished oiling the shotgun. She looked uneasily at it.

Seeing her expression, he smiled a bit. "It's just a tool, Iris," he said. "When the dogs started barking last night, I thought it might be a porcupine. I could carry either you or it home from the beach last night, so it spent the storm outside and needed oiling."

She nodded, obviously still a bit nervous, then sat down.

"How's your ankle? Would you like a coffee?"

"I... um, my ankle's some better, thanks and, yes, I would die for a coffee."

He went inside, filled his own cup and brought her one. "I hope you like it black."

"Perfect, thanks."

"Um, Iris... OK, let's do this traditionally. I have good news, some not-so-good news and some really bad news."

"Oh!" the girl replied. "How about you do them in that order?"

"OK," he said. "Here's the good news." He swung around on his seat, found the mesh bag. Digging into it, he fished out the purse and handed it to her. "Is this yours?"

What an amazing smile!  he thought to himself.

"Oh, yes! Thank you, J.L.!" She paused, then, "What's the not-so-good news?"

"The tide is still way up -- it happens a lot with big storms. The only way for you to get to the mainland for the next while is going to be by swimming."

"Oh. Oh, poop!" She then thought for a moment. "What's the really bad news?"

"I found your clothes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the panties. Handing them to her, he gave a wry grin. "That's it."

"Oh, crap!"

"Not sure what else I have that might fit you. The island is mainly sand, so you can probably get by without shoes. We can go back and look again after breakfast."

The girl looked despondent, then shrugged. "Purse and keys. That's something at least. I guess I can live with that."

The two sat, sipping their coffee.

"J.L.?"

"Mmm?"

"It's so peaceful here, but don't you ever get lonely?"

"Not really. I keep busy. There's Bonnie and Clyde. And it seems like Sandy is always right beside me."

"I'm starting to think that she was pretty special."

"I was more blessed than I knew at the time, Iris. The thought of her has kept me going -- kept me alive -- at times."

"Was she a gardener, too? The one out back is pretty impressive."

"No, she was mainly into flowers. I started a working garden when I moved back here."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Mainly, but I got sent away to school once I got old enough. I missed the island then."

"What else do you do here, asides from gardening?"

"Cutting wood for the winter, doing some online courses, play with the dogs - there's never a shortage of things to do. I walk the paths a lot, visit with the birds and animals, check my cameras each morning, work in the garden. Busy enough. I spend a lot of time on the widow's walk, just watching the ocean. Sandy liked it up there."

Iris was quiet in thought, then suddenly colored. "J.L. Those cameras..."

"Mmm?"

"Do they show more than just the causeway to the island?"

"Oh, yeah. I've got 17 of them all over the island. I spend a fair bit of time watching the wildlife. It's fun to see them going about their lives. When we get a minute, remind me to show you the feed from one I put beside the osprey nest on the west side. I had to climb the tree at night to mount it so Mama Bird didn't attack me, but the take is amazing, like you're right in the nest with the chicks."

"I'd like to see that," she said. "You can watch the cameras in real time?"

"Yep, but it all gets taped, too. I don't spend all my time watching. They're motion activated."

"Oh." The girl seemed subdued, but the blush was slow in fading.

She paused, then, "Is there one...?" Her voice trailed off.

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing. Um, you made dinner last night. May I make breakfast?"

"Sure. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. All the tools are under the island."

As Iris limped back into the house, J.L. reassembled the shotgun and followed. Leaving it in its usual place, he listened to the unaccustomed domestic sounds in the kitchen, then moved quietly to his office.

Sitting down at his computer, he began the process of reviewing the previous day's take from the cameras. Most showed deer, racoons and squirrels, with last night's bobcat presenting very well on the east beach camera. It was toying with something it had found by the waterline, probably a dead fish, when its head suddenly went up, looking off to one side. A moment later, it bounded into the treeline.

Curious, he spun the video forward, then slowed as Iris Mackenzie emerged from the trees, wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a pale blouse with its shirttails tucked and knotted under her bosom to leave her stomach bare. Her red hair showed up well in the afternoon sunshine. Her small purse hung over one shoulder and a large beach towel over the other.

She paused as she emerged onto the open beach. Her head turned back and forth as if checking for the presence of others. Apparently satisfied, she resumed her advance, stopping again by a warm patch of sunlit sand.

Looking around again, Iris' image on the monitor shrugged, laid out the towel and started to disrobe, neatly folding each garment as it came off. Under the blouse and jeans, the girl wore the red panties and a matching bra. With another look around, she pulled those off, folded them and put them on the other clothes beside the towel.

At last, fully nude but for her sandals, she sat down, tossing them off her feet as she did. She lay on her stomach in the sun. J.L. examined her image as dispassionately as he could manage, but he was increasingly aware that the naked woman he was watching on his screen was cooking in the next room.

The high-definition image was amazingly clear. The girl's slender, athletic figure stopped just short of having visible abs, but every muscle was toned. Her breasts sat high on her chest, firm and, to him, entrancing. Her legs were long, with lean muscles clearly evident. J.L. fancied himself as a connoisseur of feminine posteriors; Iris's rated very well to his mind.

Had he been peering over a fence or through a window, J.L. would have been ashamed of his voyeurism. As it was, this was his land, clearly posted, well beyond signs warning that videos would be made; he felt but little unease.

On the screen, Iris rolled over and raised herself on her elbows before turning her head back and forth, as if looking again for intruders. She lay back down, tucked her clothes under her neck for a pillow. Her head turned back and forth, as if trying to get comfortable. When she settled in, she made one last head-turning check before one hand came up to gently stroke the underside of one breast.

J.L.'s breath caught. He reached to stop the video, then withdrew his hand.

Iris' fingers ran lightly over her body, as if in celebration of beauty and the sun's warmth, before she tucked her hands behind her head and relaxed.

It was a lovely sequence, touching and gentle. J.L. sat for some minutes, watching as the girl's breathing slowed. She appeared to nap, her breasts rising and falling gently.

Gradually, the leading edge of the rising tide appeared at the bottom of the screen. Shortly after, a low wave slopped across the bottom of her foot and the girl awoke with a jerk, scrambling to her feet to escape she clearly didn't know quite what.

At that moment, the screen went almost totally white as it registered the nearby lightning strike. Startled, the naked figure tripped, fell backwards and scrambled out of sight, leaving clothes and towel behind.

With nothing in its sensors, the feed stopped. J.L. shrugged, erased the sequence and turned the computer off. He knew what happened next.

He sat there, staring at the blank monitor, until Iris announced from the next room that breakfast was ready.

Iris had prepared berry muffins and scrambled eggs. It had been a long time, J.L. reflected, since anybody had prepared his breakfast for him. At his suggestion, they carried the meal on trays up to the widow's walk.

"This is amazing!" Iris exclaimed. I guess I've seen the roof from the town, but I never thought it would be so lovely over here."

J.L. smiled.

"It seems like we can see forever!"

"I figured it out once -- the horizon is just under 12 miles away at high tide, a bit lower when the tide's out."

"Wow." The girl pointed at something on the horizon. "What's that, the tall thing over there?"

"Um, the university spire?" he suggested.

"Oh. It looks really different from up here."

"Most things do, Iris."

.

After they had cleaned up the dishes, J.L. asked Iris if she would like to go beach-combing. "Up for that? It might be that we find some more of your clothes, Iris."

"Uh, but I... it's humid and it's getting warmer. I think I'll die in these sweats of yours."

"Ah. Let me see what I can find."

It turned out to be not that much, J.L. having discarded all feminine apparel in the house years before. Sheepishly he produced a pair of black shorts bearing the label ARMY in reflective letters and a selection of t-shirts.

"That's about it, I'm afraid. I have sweaters and jackets you could wear on top, but, again, they'd be warm. Your call. I might have a housecoat somewhere, but it'd be a warm one I wear in winter."

Iris poked through the clothing in some embarrassment, finally settling on a plain brown issue t-shirt. With a slight blush, she went into the library, emerging a minute later wearing shorts and t-shirt and carrying the sweat suit over one arm.

"I guess these will have to do, J.L. Thanks for trying."

J.L. tried to keep his eyes above her shoulders. The young woman had a very good figure and the bra-less t-shirt did very little to hide her female attributes. Her long nipples challenged the thin cotton. The image of her on the beach kept echoing in his mind.

"How's the ankle?" he asked. "If you'd prefer to rest it, I can go looking by myself."

"It's OK," she replied. "It was just twisted. I should be OK if I'm careful and things aren't too uneven. The bandage helps."

He pointed towards the edge of the forest, where several paths opened up. "If we're going to look for your clothes, I think we should go up to the peninsula and start on the west side. The currents flow clockwise around the island and, if your stuff is anywhere, it's most likely there."

The girl nodded and then waited for him to lead. Instead, he bowed slightly and motioned her forward.