Eastover Treasures

by Dawn Brotherton

  Penny stacked her empty dishes on a tray. “That’s ridiculous. How are we supposed to know what’s happening with the storm?”

  Aury pulled out her phone, checking the bars. “I get service here, but it’s weak. Guess it depends on your provider.”

  “What a waste,” Nancy mumbled, shutting her phone off.

  Just then, an old-fashioned ringtone sounded.

  “Someone else has service.” Aury winced, realizing that was rubbing salt in the wound for Nancy.

  A few minutes later Carla stood. “That was Sam. The hurricane hit Florida as a Category Four. It’s bad.”

  “East or west side?” someone asked.

  “East. It pushed through Georgia and is headed up the coast. Lots of flooding.”

  “I thought it was supposed to turn out to sea,” Penny said.

  “That’s one option. No one is sure at this point,” Carla answered.

  Penny looked at Aury. “Do you think we should leave?”

  “Carla, did Sam say what is expected to happen to Virginia?” Aury asked.

  “It’ll probably turn into a tropical storm by the time it gets here. That means rain.”

  Linda stood and picked up her tray. “What’s a little rain? We’re inside most of the time anyway. What would we be doing if we went home? I have too many projects to finish here.”

  Others started to gather their things, feeling the pressure of the hurricane bearing down on them. Aury knew responsibilities at home would be calling to them.

  Aury turned to answer Penny’s question. “I’m sticking it out. I don’t have anyone waiting for me, but no one will mind if you feel you need to go.” She glanced around at the die-hard quilters of the group. She couldn’t leave them alone. Although they were on high ground far above the river, Aury knew storms were unpredictable.

  “I might take off a little early. I’m worried about what my dogs will do in the storm. They get all excited and might tear something up. My husband can’t calm them down when they get all riled up,” Penny said.

  The ladies cleared their trays and bundled up for the walk back to the motel.

  “I’m glad our rooms are close,” Carol commented.

  The ladies chattered on the walk, and Aury took it all in, content to be absorbing their quilting knowledge any way she could. She was awed by the collective wisdom in their small group.

  The women shed their sweaters and jackets and settled into their places. Some put on their headphones, while others continued to talk about various people they knew.

  “There is no way Fred is able to fix that roof,” Debbie said. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to carpentry, but he doesn’t have it in him.”

  “Let him try,” Pat said. “What’ll it cost you? He’ll be outside enjoying himself, and you can hide in your sewing cave. If it doesn’t work, I have the number of a handyman.”

  “I’ll bet you do.” Debbie gave an exaggerated wink.

  Pat gave her a sour look and spoke to Aury. “Are you going to get anything done today?”

  “No, I think I’ll continue on my useless path of existence,” Aury replied, clicking on her sewing machine. Ignoring the snort of laughter from Pat, Aury started lining up the strips she had cut before lunch, organizing the colors into the range she would use to assemble her rose cathedral window. This was supposed to be a project for her and her grandmother together. She wasn’t sure she was up for the challenge alone.

  “Stretch!” Aury called, standing from her seat an hour later.

  Slowly the ladies put aside their work to humor their youngest member. Once everyone stood, Aury led the exercise. “Hands on your hips. Tilt your head and look at the ceiling. Push your hips forward.” The ladies complied. “Feel the stretch in your lower back.”

  After a few seconds, she continued. “Slowly, come forward. All the way. Bend at the waist. Drop your hands and let them hang toward the floor.”

  Aury heard some moans and creaks, but no one complained. She had started this stretching regimen after one of the other ladies had mentioned how she was getting stiff from sitting in place for so long. Aury tried to think up different ways to keep the ladies from returning home with memories of sore and tired muscles. A non-sewer doesn’t have an accurate perspective of what leaning over a machine all day does to a person.

  “Slowly, stand. One vertebra at a time. Not too fast, you’ll get a head rush.”

  “That’s what he said,” Debbie muttered under her breath, eliciting laughter from the few that stood nearby.

  “Okay, now you can get to work.” Aury continued to stand, twisting at the waist, then rolling her shoulders. She was ready to cut again. She picked up her fabric and moved to the taller cutting table.

  A few hours later, Aury had made good progress on her quilt. She had a stack of four-patches made from the strips she had sewn together, cut, and then resewn. Her ex-husband had never understood the point of cutting something up to sew it back together.

  When phrased that way, Aury could understand the confusion. He was never able to appreciate the beautiful patterns that emerged when things fell into place. Aury could lose herself in the colors of a well-made quilt.

  She decided she needed to get some exercise before dinner. She shut down her machine and waved at her tablemates, letting them know she was setting out on her daily walk. She started down the path away from the road. Every day, she had tried to pick another route to explore. This time she headed toward the water.

  The sky held a few dark clouds, but no rain had fallen yet. Aury didn’t understand the fuss about the storm.

  Shadows loomed on the path through the woods. After only a few steps under the canopy, the smell of decaying leaves and mushrooms overwhelmed Aury. Although it was late October in Virginia, all the leaves hadn’t given up their hold yet.

  Aury marched toward the glade a quarter mile ahead. The bright beacon of sunlight in the clearing blazed in contrast to the dappled light under the trees. The path through the woods was straight and well-maintained, and Aury found something unexplainably special about walking on a narrow strip of order between the natural spontaneity of the wilderness on either side of the path.

  Ahead, she spotted a roughly hewn wooden arrow staked into the ground declaring that the path to the left led to the beach. Just the thought of water made Aury smile to herself. She wasn’t much of a swimmer, but she enjoyed watching the current make its way past any obstacle in its path.

  As she approached the fork in the road intent on heading to the beach, the vast, green lawn off the right fork caught her eye. She hadn’t been this way before and was surprised, once again, at how far the property stretched, with no one around for miles.

  Only a few hundred feet down the path, she stopped, thrilled with the manor house that loomed in the distance. It was as if she had stepped back in time. The house was two stories, with white sideboards and four chimneys. The wooden shutters were closed, as if hiding its secrets from the world. Aury wasn’t sure if that was a precaution against the storm or if the house was in a permanent state of hibernation.

  From where she stood on the west side of the manor, Aury could see part of the circular driveway in the front, and the glassed-in porch on the back. The azalea bushes grew up close to the house, the pink flowers teasing the second-floor windows.

  As she crept closer, Aury got another feeling. The original sense of grandeur was replaced with one of sadness and neglect. Paint was peeling from the wood siding, and the windows that weren’t shuttered were so dirty they were hard to see into.

  On the backside of the house facing the James River, the shutters had an extra board nailed across them to ensure compliance. Aury assumed that was more to ward off any intruders rather than the hurricane gusts coming off the river.

  The grass had been mowed recently, so at a distance, the house still retained its dignity.

  As Aury approached the porch, lightning flashed, and the first drops of rain splashed her face. Reluctantly, she took one
last peek at the house and jogged down the path toward the motel, leaving the silent manor to face the elements alone.

  Chapter 5

  That night at dinner, Aury stalled until she was last in the food line. “I saw the manor house today,” she commented to the gentleman behind the food counter.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Alan’s face brightened. “Needs some TLC but is certainly holding her own.”

  “How old is it?

  “Built in the 1880s, is my understanding,” he replied, dishing up a large portion of fish and rice for Aury. “They used to rent it out, but the upkeep was too much.” He handed over her plate of food.

  “Any chance we could take a peek inside?”

  The older man shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, miss. It’s been declared off limits. The insurance on this retreat center doesn’t allow for visitors in there anymore.”

  “Who owns the retreat center?”

  “It’s been in the Henry Bell family for years. He left it to his son, Scott, but unfortunately didn’t leave the money necessary to keep it running.” Alan looked both ways before leaning conspiratorially toward Aury. “Don’t be spreading rumors, but I don’t know how much longer he can hang on.”

  “How sad. I assume this property would be quite profitable.” Aury’s curiosity grew, getting the best of her now.

  The man gazed into the distance. “I’m not rightly sure. I know Scott’s mom wanted it left as a retreat center for people to get away from the city. She was the one who hired me, some forty years ago.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Died of cancer when Scott was a teenager.” He waved his hand at her. “Go eat before that gets cold. You’ll need your strength to battle the storm that’s coming.”

  “How bad do you think it’s going to get?”

  “We haven’t been hit up this ways in a while, but you can expect a solid drenching. Any of your ladies heading back to town tonight? If so, best git before dark.”

  “One or two might head out. They need to deal with things at home.”

  “Well, let me know soon if you need any help. We’ll be off property until tomorrow night. Gotta rest on the Lord’s day,” Alan explained. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring crockpots of chili along with some cornbread over to the motel in a bit. All you’ll have to do is plug them in tomorrow to heat it up, and you’ll be set for a hot dinner.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks for looking out for us.” Aury broke away to join the others.

  As the ladies made their way back to the motel, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

  “This isn’t so bad,” Pat said. “Don’t know what everyone’s so worried about.”

  A flash of lightning followed closely by a rumble of thunder caught their attention. As if by instinct, they all picked up their pace, possibly the fastest many of them had moved in years.

  By the time they reached the motel, they were drenched through. The women scattered back to their rooms to change into dry clothes.

  Since she was wet anyway, Aury stripped down and climbed into a hot shower. As she stood under the water, she thought about what the man in the kitchen had told her.

  The reader in her wondered if Scott’s mother had died in the manor house. It might make for a cool ghost story. And why was the family hanging on to the property if they were losing money? It was big enough; they could sell off a few parcels and still have hundreds of acres left. It was waterfront property. The Bell family could be rich.

  The water turned cold quicker than it usually did. Aury supposed the other ladies had the same idea about a shower. She shut off the water and toweled off, her mind turning once again to her quilt project.

  True to his word, Alan showed up in the activities room with a few crockpots full of chili they promptly put in the refrigerator for the night. He also left a pan of freshly made cornbread.

  Aury smelled the melted butter drizzled over the yellow bread. “I don’t think it’ll make it until tomorrow.”

  “I didn’t figure so.” He went back to his car, returning with another pan still warm from the oven.

  “You gotta stretch it out, though. There’s fixins’ for salad in the fridge, and you should have plenty of lunch meat and cheese. That pretty much cleaned out my pantry. I’ll hit the store on my way in Monday morning.”

  “We appreciate it. You all have been wonderful to us.”

  “We enjoy having company out here. I know Scott loves to see this room busy like when his mom was alive.”

  “What does Scott do for a living?”

  “He’s an engineer in northern Virginia, but his dream is to be out here full time. I think he keeps the other job to make ends meet.”

  “Can’t he just sell off some of the property to make it more manageable? Maybe get a little boost to fix up the rest of the buildings?” Aury asked.

  Alan was shaking his head before Aury finished speaking. “Don’t understand it myself. He won’t consider breaking it up, and no way he’ll walk away from it. Land’s been in his family for years. His mother was researching the history before she got real sick. It’s a shame. I thought she was rallying there for a while.” An audible sigh escaped as his shoulders slumped and his eyes dropped.

  “Well, I’m glad we still have Eastover to come to. It works perfect for our quilting retreats.” Aury gestured at the room full of machines and focused ladies. “Some of these women wait for this all year.”

  Alan perked up. “Yes, ma’am. My own momma was a quilter. Nothing better than a blanket full of love to warm your bones. Speaking of which, I better get home before my wife makes me sleep outside for being late. You all have a wonderful night.”

  Chapter 6

  Aury quilted late into the night. She enjoyed the energy of a room full of quilters, but she also looked forward to the solitude of watching movies on her eReader while she sewed. At this hour, everyone had turned in for the night.

  Some of the women had packed up and headed home already. The vacant spaces looked strange in the midst of tables overflowing with material and various sewing paraphernalia. They were down from fifteen to ten women, and Aury wondered how many would leave in the morning.

  As Aury freed her project from the sewing machine and prepared to move to the ironing board, she thought she heard a noise at the front of the hall. She held her breath in concentration.

  There it was again! A scraping outside the front door. She stole toward the sound, keeping out of sight behind the kitchen wall. She couldn’t imagine any of the ladies would be up, and even if they were, they would come straight into the hall, not loiter outside.

  She peeked around the corner, but the lights inside were bright, making it impossible to see outside. As she struggled with what to do, she searched the closest table for a weapon. A giant pair of shears sat beside Linda’s machine. Aury reached for them.

  The crash against the door was followed by a stream of incoherent words. Aury’s head whipped around, catching sight of a man trying to right the toppled stack of chairs.

  Her fear vanished, but her heart continued to pound in her chest. Aury approached the door expecting to see Alan and was ready to quiz him about why his wife let him come to work in the wee hours. Instead, she saw a man in his mid-thirties with dark, close-cropped hair. His tie was askew, and the sleeves of his white button-down shirt were rolled to the elbows.

  She stopped short, but by then it was too late. He locked eyes with her, and for a moment, Aury was sure he looked frightened. Then he smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

  He pushed the chairs aside and opened the glass door. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t realize anyone was still awake. Of course, with all the racket I made, I probably woke everyone up.”

  Aury simply stared back, unsure what to say.

  “I’m Scott.” He extended his hand.

  She took in the tan, muscular forearm before the name registered. She returned his handshake. “Are you the owner here?”

  �
�I am.” His grin was friendly. “I’m sorry I haven’t come out to greet you all before now, but I was trying to set matters straight at home, so I could be here before the storm and batten things down.”

  He gestured toward the chairs. “I was going to put some things inside, so they wouldn’t blow around if the wind catches them. Guess I should have waited until morning. I was still keyed up from the drive and couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d work a bit. I never have enough time to do everything I want.”

  Aury smiled. “I know what you mean. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be sewing at,” she looked at her watch, “two o’clock in the morning.”

  “I don’t know how you can create such beautiful works of art from cloth. My mom was a quilter. She could spend hours behind her machine.” A fleeting sign of sadness washed across his face.

  “I totally lose myself in it. There are so many new patterns I want to try. Just looking at fabric makes me happy.”

  “Well, I should let you get back to it,” Scott said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “It was a nice break, aside for the part where you scared me half to death. Are you staying for the weekend?”

  “Yes, there are a lot of things to be done before the storm. You ladies may not want to be here. I can refund some of your money if you need to close up shop early.”

  Aury recognized the generous offer, especially in light of what Alan had told her about how hard it was to make ends meet. “I doubt that will be necessary. We’re tough for a group of quilters.”

  He smiled at that. “Have a good night then.” He tipped an imaginary hat.

  Aury returned to her ironing board, lost in thought about Scott and his dilemma with the camp. She wondered if there was any way she could help.

  Chapter 7

  By the time Aury dragged herself into the hall the next morning, a few more tables had been vacated.

  “So it’s down to us seven?” she asked the room.

  “It’s going to be six. Sorry, I need to help my daughter prepare for the hurricane. She’s seven months pregnant and trying to put boards up over her sliding glass window,” one of the ladies said.