CHAPTER 2

On the third day of the unceasing storm a Greyhound bus out of Portland dropped one passenger off at the small bus station in the village of Schooner Bay. The tall, bearded man wearing a long-length wool naval jacket and cap with official maritime insignia tumbled down the steps, bracing himself against the wind by pulling up the collar of his coat. He strode to the tiny hut trying to find reprieve from the wind which sent stinging snowflakes against his face. The lone attendant inside wasn't much help to him. The storm had knocked out power and phone lines to many of the communities up and down the coast, luckily electricity had been restored to their town but the phone situation was pretty iffy. The man behind the counter gave the traveler a second look—something was vaguely familiar about the gentleman standing before him, almost like a movie hero returning home from war. He thought about asking the stranger his name but then dismissed the thought—no call to be nosey. The man thanked him for what little information he could provide, tipped his hat to the attendant and went back out into the weather. The attendant went back to reading the girly magazine he had shoved under the counter when the naval man came in. Nothing that unusual about the stranger, shrugged the clerk. Probably had women crawling all over him, though. Handsome devil with that beard and blue eyes.

Captain Daniel Gregg looked about him. He was standing near the village square. He had no way to call Gull Cottage and at the moment had no transportation other than his own two feet. He gave a passing thought to tracking down Claymore Gregg for assistance, but Daniel decided he'd sooner be flogged 20 lashes on his bare back then to be owing a favor to that squid-eyed traitor. He had to deal with him soon enough. Trekking several miles mostly uphill in a snowstorm was not appealing in the least. Still, his homing instinct was strong. The main roads had been treacherous enough for modern vehicles, he wished he had an old-fashioned sleigh and two stout horses at the ready. Just then he heard an engine roar and turned just in time to see what he soon learned was a modern sleigh-called a snowmobile. An empty trailer sled was attached behind it. It came to stop beside the town's own version of an A & P grocery store. A young man got off the machine and headed into the store. Daniel followed his instincts and went into the shop. He caught up to the young man. The seaman learned the word had gotten around the village the store could make deliveries via the snowmobile and sled for the folks unlucky enough not to have a four-wheeled drive vehicle at their disposal. The township's lone snowplow barely managed to keep the main roads open. The Captain made inquiries as to the Carolyn Muir-Martha Grant family. Had they been able to get into town recently? The owner-manager couldn't recall seeing either of the ladies in the store recently. He was nice enough to look up the number and give it a try but there was no luck to be had. The line was dead to Gull Cottage. Daniel was assured stock boy David Magruder could take Daniel and a load of groceries up the hill to Gull Cottage. Not to worry. Captain Gregg filled two shopping carts with all the food and supplies he could think of; meats, canned goods, bread, eggs, orange juice, coffee, cold cereal, dog food and hefty sacks of flour, sugar, potatoes, yellow onions, apples and oranges—and more. It appeared he had bought out the store by the time he and Dave had loaded everything into the sled and headed out of town.

The red Rupp snow machine with its 32-horsepower engine zipped along efficiently enough on the few plowed streets in town and started up Bay Hill Road. The road had yet to be plowed and the going was getting tougher as the machine struggled to tow its heavy load uphill, fighting to break through snowdrifts. Twice, both men had to get off the machine to tug and pull the skids free of a drift before forward progress could be made. Worse still, the snow showers and wind had increased and visibility was poor at best. Finally, at the turn off to Gregg Road, Dave shifted around and gave Daniel the bad news. This was as far as his machine could manage. The road was covered with drifts, the visibility was bad and going over the cliff was a possibility on the turning, twisting road in near white-out conditions. Daniel understood and was grateful to have gotten this close to home and family, but he wasn't about to surrender to Mother Nature. With Dave's help and a few tow straps from the gear box under the seat, the men rigged a make-shift shoulder harness for the Captain. The trailer was detached from the snowmobile and hooked unto Daniel's harness. He thanked the young man and gave him a generous tip, which to his credit the young man refused. Dave wished him luck and apologized again, genuinely sorry for leaving Daniel stranded so close—yet so far from home. Captain Gregg began the arduous trek of being a man-mule hauling close to 200 lbs. to Gull Cottage. All the mariner could do was grit his teeth, put his head down and begin his chore—buoyed with the knowledge home, hearth and hugs awaited him if he could manage not to die of a heart attack in the process. The irony of his situation ran through his mind as his muscles screamed in protest. A miracle had restored him to his living body but he realized he was hell bent on killing himself before he could reach those he had risked it all for. He soon lost track of time as he kept his head down against the blinding snow and wind and just kept pulling.

Jonathan and Candy Muir were huddled on the window seat in the front room. Their mother was in her room, they knew she would make an appearance at supper and make some effort at conversation and normality. But she wasn't fooling her kids or her parents. A writer she may be but she wasn't a very good actress as far as her children were concerned. Their grandparents were in the family room, Grandpa Brad sacked out on the couch for a nap and Grandma Emily watching a soap opera. Martha was in her room as well, most likely writing a letter to her sister in Florida. The Muir children were bored. The weather had been too nasty to do more than take Scruffy to the backyard to do his "business" when he scratched at the door—afraid he would be lost in the raging blizzard. Nothing "good" was on T.V—even when a decent signal could be picked up on the old t.v.'s "rabbit ears" antennae and they were tired of reading the same old books, listening to the same old records or playing the same old board games. Now they moped together as they gazed out the window.

It was Jonathan who spotted the dark figure first in a very brief break in the snow. He couldn't be too sure of what he saw, between the snow, stone wall out front and the winding road far below. Still…there was something. "Hey, look." He placed his finger on the window pane, "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"Look, there."

"Where, there?"

5

"Where I'm pointing!"

"I don't see anything but snow, Jonathan."

"Then you're not looking at the right spot. There's something dark coming up the road."

"Probably a car, maybe the mailman?"

Another gust of wind came and wiped the snow away again briefly and this time he clearly could make out a man, far down the hill. "Hey Candy, I think it's a man!"

"Well if it is, he must be crazy going for a walk in this weather." She and her brother thought quietly a moment, continuing to stare out towards the road and the ocean below. "Oh wow!" Candy exclaimed. "You're right! I see him, looks like he's pulling something behind him, maybe? Who do you suppose it could be?"

It didn't take them more than a few seconds. "Captain Gregg!," they yelped happily together and began pounding on the window glass. "It's Captain Gregg! Captain Gregg!" They kept yelling his name over and over as if he could hear them from where he trudged down below. They jumped up from the window seat, unsure exactly what to do next. "MOMMY!" Candy screamed in her excitement, ran half way up the stairs and then back down again.

Grandma and Grandpa Williams were rousted from the family room. Grandpa Brad came in fiddling with his glasses as they hustled into the front parlor. "What's the matter? What's going on?" He demanded to know.

Their two grandchildren raced around and around in glee. Scruffy was barking and yapping at their heels. Martha stuck her head out of her room and called, "What is all the fuss about? Stop that yelling this instant, your mother is trying to work upstairs!" Finally, the kids could stand it no more. They flung open the front door and raced outside into the storm, seemingly oblivious to the weather so complete was their ecstatic merriment. Their grandfather made a stab at snagging the kids but they were too fast. Martha came hustling in with a perturbed expression. "Why in Heaven's name is the front door wide open? What's going on? What's all the shouting about? Where are the kids?"

Brad shut the door to the snow which was sweeping in off the front steps. "Those darn kids just ran outside yelling something about a "captain"! They just took off—neither one of them with coats on!" He was confused and scared for his grandchildren, not comprehending why they would do such a stupid thing.

The Muir children thundered through the snowdrifts, racing as fast as they could down their lane to reach their hero, the man they had missed so much. The fact they were risking frostbite or getting lost in a snowstorm didn't matter to them one bit. Captain Gregg was home! Daniel had his head down, his heart pounding, the muscles in his back and shoulders in spasms but he heard their faint calls.

6

He peered through the snow, pulling the brim of his cap low to shield his eyes against the snowflakes bouncing off his eyelashes. Then his eyes grew wide when he saw the two blonde-haired youngsters staggering through snow up to their knees, coming towards him as fast as they could. He shook out of his harness and collapsed to his own knees; his arms open wide. The three bodies slammed together in a joyous embrace, laughing though they were all out of breath. Daniel hugged them both tightly to him, accepting their kisses and their happy laughter. But soon he saw their rosy cheeks and realized what Candy and Jonathan had done, racing from the safety of Gull Cottage into a snowstorm dressed only in sweatshirts and jeans. They were chilled to the bone but they hadn't fully realized the danger they put themselves in. Hurriedly he released them to strip off his heavy wool coat. "Here, quickly now. Each of you put an arm in," the jacket enveloped their slim bodies, as the kids put one arm in a sleeve and the other around each other, huddling into the heavy jacket's warmth. Daniel tugged the collar up and over their heads as much as the fabric would allow, already heavy from wet snow clinging to it stubbornly. He knelt again in the snow. "Right, now you two, put your arms around my neck and hang on tightly. I need to get you inside quick as I can." Adrenaline allowed him to stand with the kids' combined weight on his back as he abandoned the supply sled to haul a new kind of cargo up the hill to Gull Cottage.

He almost made it the Muir driveway when he became aware different hands were reaching for his precious burden. Brad Williams and Martha Grant had pulled on boots and their own coats and hurriedly rushed outside after Jonathan and Candy, each carrying a child's parka. Daniel once again collapsed to the ground, cushioned by a two-foot snowdrift. "Dear Martha," he panted when he heard her voice and saw her worried face.

"Captain!" was her astonished reply. "Whatever are you doing out here?! Get inside!" she commanded. She was too stunned to say much more. Grandpa Brad and Martha each scooped up a child into their arms and headed back to the house. Daniel staggered after them with an exhausted smile creasing his snow-covered bearded face.

Upstairs in the main cabin Carolyn was awakened from a troubled sleep. She had huddled under the covers of her bed, cocooning herself, her body demanding sleep of any length. She was restless, dreaming scattered images and sounds. She heard her daughter scream out for her but it was faint, a dream? Carolyn faded back to consciousness. Her heart was pounding for some reason when she became fully awake. Then she heard the noise and the yells coming from downstairs. She struggled against the blankets now keeping her prisoner in her haste to get downstairs—something was very wrong. She flung open her bedroom door and raced as fast as she dared down the stairs in her stocking feet, grabbing the banister as she went. Then she stopped. Frozen. Disbelieving. Her heart banging in her chest. Her brain was trying to process the sight her eyes were showing her. "Daniel!" she gasped.