„I’ll look for them when I fish for dinner,“ Raven promised blandly, but his eyes gleamed like polished jet. „Do you have a name, or are you like the shamans, giving your true name to no one?“
„Janna Moran,“ she said. She eased her right arm cautiously out from beneath the slippery blanket and held out her hand. „And you’re – Raven?“
„Yes,“ he said, taking her hand.
For a moment they smiled at each other, silently recognizing the incongruity of introducing themselves after they had awakened naked in one another’s arms. Janna’s fingers looked slender and very feminine against the weathered toughness of Raven’s hand. He remembered how those fingers had felt exploring him sleepily.
„Is that a first or a last name?“ Janna asked as Raven released her hand and turned away quickly.
„When I fill out forms for the government, it’s a last name, and Carlson is my first name. Otherwise, Raven is the name most people use.“
He hesitated, thinking of Angel. She and Grant had called him Carlson. But Grant was dead. Only Angel called him Carlson now – and Miles Hawkins, Hawk, the man Angel loved. Hawk called him Carlson, too.
Raven smiled slightly, remembering how he had felt when he had discovered the depth of Angel’s love for another man. He supposed he should have hated Hawk, but hatred was impossible. Hawk had given Angel the very heart of life. Raven loved him for that as he had never loved another man.
„But not everyone calls you Raven,“ Janna said softly, seeing the bittersweet smile on Raven’s lips. Janna wanted to ask who the woman was who could make Raven smile with such love and sadness, but Janna said nothing. It was enough to know that there was a woman, and love and sadness. „What shall I call you?“
„Raven. It’s how I think of myself, now.“
Janna smiled, feeling somehow as though she had received a gift.
„Raven,“ Janna said, liking the feel of the name on her tongue.
Raven smiled down at Janna, wondering what thoughts moved in the shadowed depths beneath the clear silver-green of her eyes. The smile she gave him in return was open, friendly, engaging, humorous. It was also subtly different from the ones he had seen before he tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Part of Janna’s personality was now concealed, the part that had shimmered just beneath the surface of her eyes when she looked at him and saw the man who had pulled her from the cold water.
Raven frowned slightly, feeling as he always did when he saw life flashing just below the green surface of the sea, life turning and diving for the cool, safe depths, life sliding away from his presence. Somehow, something beautiful and fragile had gone, and there was only the vague glimmer of reflected light to mark its passing.
„Is there anyone waiting for you?“ Raven asked.
„Waiting?“
Janna’s confusion told Raven more than he had asked. She lived alone, as he did, and she had lived that way for so long that the idea of people worrying about her absence simply didn’t occur to her.
„A husband, a lover, family, friends,“ he said softly, searching gray-green eyes. „Anyone who might be worried about you being out in a small boat in a storm.“
„Oh.“ Janna laughed lightly and shrugged. „No. I’m twenty-four and fancy-free. I haven’t had a husband for years, never had kids at all, my friends don’t expect me back in Seattle until September and my landlady doesn’t care where I am as long as the rent is on time. She drinks, you see. I’m paid through August, so she’s not going to worry if I never come back.“
Raven didn’t know which surprised him more, that Janna had been married or that she was utterly alone in the Queen Charlottes for the next few weeks.
„Are you on vacation?“ he asked.
Janna shrugged again. „Sort of. I’m doing some line drawings for a friend’s book on the Queen Charlottes. I’ve been trying for weeks to get to Totem Inlet, but something always happened.“
„Something?“
„Rain, usually. Mist, a lot. Wind, too.“
Raven smiled. „Welcome to the Queen Charlottes.“
„Yeah. Welcome all to hell.“ Janna laughed, taking the bite out of her words.
Slowly laughter faded. For a moment her eyes seemed almost silver once more, passion and emotion shimmering just below the surface.
„I’ve never seen a more savage place,“ she said, „or one that is more beautiful. The islands are… elemental. Creation is very close to the surface here, almost close enough to touch.“ She hesitated, then added softly, „It’s as though the Charlottes have a special understanding with time. Time comes to the islands and then divides around them and passes by on either side like the sea. Other places change, but not the Charlottes. They have always been like this, barely condensed out of the mists of creation. Here, time doesn’t exist. Only creation and mist.“
For the second time since Raven had seen Janna, his scalp tightened as a wave of awareness shivered through him. Other people had noted that the islands had a savage aura, but to those people savage had meant
„Yes,“ Raven said softly. „I love these islands, too. I come to them to renew my own silences.“
„And now you’re saddled with a chatty tourist,“ Janna said, grimacing. „Sorry about that.“
„No problem,“ he said. „You’re a woman who understands silence. You won’t disturb me.“
Janna couldn’t help wondering what it would take for a woman to disturb Raven. She had no doubt that it would take a woman rather than a man; her former husband had taught her to be very aware of the fact that there were men who dated and married women but who could only be sexually attracted to another man. Raven wasn’t like that. She was sure of it.
With a hidden sigh, Janna decided that Raven was probably like most men, drawn to blondes who had big mysterious eyes and more curves than a mountain road. The old cliche about gentlemen preferring blondes was quite true. So did jocks, thugs, poets and nerds. Forget women with brown hair, no matter how great their sense of humor.
Nobody ever cared if a blonde had a sense of humor, great or otherwise.
„You never answered my question about breakfast,“ Raven said. He looked over his shoulder and checked the progress of the water heating in a kettle on the small galley stove that was just across the aisle from his bunk. „Are you hungry?“
„Are you kidding? That isn’t thunder you’re hearing, it’s my stomach,“ she announced, waving her hand dramatically, only to have to make a wild grab for the drifting blanket.
Raven glanced away quickly, not wanting Janna to realize that she had inadvertently shown him a firmly curved breast topped by a nipple that was such a velvety pink that he had to clench his hands against reaching toward her.
The teakettle whistled, offering Raven a much-needed distraction. He lifted the kettle and poured water into two mugs, wondering how Janna would react if he told her how perfect she had felt stretched out along his body. Soft. Resilient. No hard edges or angles. But if he said anything like that to her, it would sound like the opening gambit in a bid for sex. He knew that she didn’t want that anymore. He had seen the desire fade from her after he had tucked in the blanket around her shoulders. The shimmering veils of passionate emotion had gone as though they had never existed, leaving only laughter in her clear gray-green eyes.
He wondered why that made him feel both sad and very angry, as though he
