She had never imagined being this settled, this comfortable—or this happy.
Through the trees, she glimpsed the cabin, and her steps quickened.
Coming out of the forest into the cabin's clearing was a whole different experience these days. Mira paused at the edge of the trees just to look at it, her whole body filled with a warm sense of wellbeing at the feeling of being home.
The cabin now had solar panels on the roof, and a generator in a tidy little shed Dane had built. There were chickens in a neat little coop, clucking contentedly to themselves. There was a real shower in a brand new addition out back of the cabin, and the staked-out lines for a future addition that would include a real bedroom.
They were doing all of this with the insurance money fromMerrylegs. All those years of keeping her premiums up to date had really paid off, because they had a nice chunk of money that Mira immediately contributed to improving the cabin and making the island more habitable. She also bought a small motorboat, cheap and old, but in solid shape. She and Dane were both good enough at maintaining engines that they had spent some time doing a tear-down and rebuild, and now it was almost as good as new. In keeping with the horse and book theme, they had named the new boatSeabiscuit, after the racehorse and associated book.
With the newfound freedom ofSeabiscuit, Mira could visit the coast and go to town whenever she wanted.
Right now, she didn't want it much. She could easily imagine herself getting tired of seeing the same stretch of trees and the walls of the cabin day in and day out, and then it would be nice to be able to leave sometimes for a nice trip to coffee shops, restaurants, and bookstores. But there was just so much to do.
She strolled into the yard. Dane looked up from working on the roof of the chicken coop and gave her a beautiful, bright grin. He was naked to the waist—and no, she still hadn't developed an immunity to it, and probably never would.
"Hi, gorgeous," he said.
"Hi yourself, gorgeous," she replied.
Dane laid down his hammer and took her in his arms for a quick kiss. She took advantage of the opportunity to run her hands over the chiseled planes of his back.
"Careful," she said breathlessly when they broke apart. "I'm all dirty."
"I could wash you," Dane offered playfully. "Working in the garden?"
Mira nodded. "I was just working on the new extension. I think it's going to be ready for planting in the spring. Fresh salad all summer long."
"And fresh eggs," Dane added, glancing into the coop, where the chickens were pecking about. "Maybe baby chicks in the spring. I think that'd be fun, don't you?"
Something caught in her throat at his obvious happiness. She was happy too, and settled, in a way she had never been before. She felt as if she had spent her whole life moving around—first in the Army, then on theMerrylegs—looking for somewhere to belong. She would never have guessed that the place she was looking for was a cabin with an island hermit ... but at this moment, she couldn't imagine ever wanting anything else.
Hand in hand, they went into the cabin. With Dane's architectural improvements and Mira's decorating touches, it was a place transformed—light and airy, now with two extra windows, a real table, shelves full of books, and a rug on the floor that was among the items Dane had been gradually rescuing from the sunkenMerrylegs. There were even pictures on the walls. Eren had contributed some delicate, beautiful watercolors of the Westerly Cove lighthouse and the sea that had been done by his sister-in-law Bernie, and Mira had found some framed photos of Newfoundland's pretty, colorful coastline in shops in St. John's.
The cabin was still somewhat cramped for space, with its one room serving as bedroom, living room, and kitchen combined. But the new addition would help with that, even if it was likely to be next summer or fall before it was finished.
"I guess we need to start thinking about dinner," Mira said. She bent over to open the mini-fridge under the table, powered by the solar panels and generator. A full-sized refrigerator and proper kitchen was another daydream for the addition, but at least she was used to cooking in a cramped space after her experiences with theMerrylegs's tiny galley.
"My turn," Dane announced, whisking a package of steaks out of her hands. "I plan to grill while the grilling weather is still good."
"At least it's something other than fish," Mira teased. Having lived near the coast or on the water for the recent part of her life, she was already used to having a majority of her diet come from the sea. And Dane, she had found, was a genuinely good cook who knew dozens of different ways of preparing fish. But it was still nice to have something different.
They went out into the warm, pleasant evening. Dane stirred up a fire under their little grill, while Mira chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, fresh from their garden, for a Greek salad.
"You know what I was thinking," Dane said, glancing up from the bed of coals under the grill. "I think the island needs a new name. When I came here, the locals called it Dead Man's Island. It felt appropriate for me then." He flashed her a quick smile to warm and soften the words. "But it doesn't fit at all now. What do you think we should call it?"
Mira didn't even have to think about it. "Orca Island," she said promptly. "It even looks like one from a distance, don't you think? Like the back of a whale humped out of the water."
"Orca Island it is. I can't think of anything better."
He scooped her up in his arms, and Mira gave a little shriek, waving half a cucumber in one hand and barely managing to keep her kitchen knife pointed in a safe direction.
"Dane! Not in front of the cucumbers!"
She offered a ransom of kisses and was eventually freed. Dane went to get them a couple of cold beers from the spring, which they still used for cooling drinks despite having the refrigerator; there was something Mira had come to cherish about a cold beer with fresh springwater beaded on its sides.
They ate at the outside table while a mild, still-warm dusk settled over them. Dane went and fetched a lantern and set it on the picnic table.
"You know what I love about life on an island?" Mira said suddenly. "No bugs. You know, anywhere else this lantern would have a dozen moths around it, not to mention the mosquitoes."
"It's not for everybody," Dane said. He looked around at the trees, the yard, the snug cabin. "And for a long time for me, this was just a refuge. Somewhere to hide."
"And what is it now?" Mira asked softly. She reached across the table to take his hand.
Dane laced his fingers through hers. "Home."
"Me too," she whispered. "Me too."
