Uncharted Journey (The Uncharted Series Book 6)

by Keely Brooke Keith

  There was no way she would put herself in the center of that kind of attention, especially with people she barely knew. “No. I’m fine, really. I have my own way of dealing with things.”

  John nodded as if in agreement, but unease still marked his expression. “Very well.” He gave her shoulder a fatherly pat then walked into the kitchen.

  She followed the row of azaleas and hydrangeas around the back of the house. The shrubs’ leaves were firm and fungus free. Two willow trees stood in the middle of the back yard. They were the same trees she’d watched from her bedroom window for the past two weeks.

  She ambled between the willows and turned to face the house. The bedroom she was staying in was on the bottom floor on the north end. The high narrow window in the center of the bottom floor allowed light and air into the bathroom. So, the window on the south end of the house must be the guest room where Revel was staying.

  John had introduced Revel as his houseguest. Every morning after breakfast, Revel left with Connor to do chores. There might be work she could do here on the property to earn her keep too. The landscaping was well cared for, but maybe they had a vegetable garden that needed tending.

  A pleasant breeze blew in from the nearby ocean, mixing the scents of salt and sea with the pine and gray leaf trees. She inhaled deeply, welcoming the satiating aromas. It would be easy to enjoy her time here. If only she could allow herself to build a life in this new place, if not for herself, for Tim, for Coach, or for the lost little girl she once was who yearned for a safe and quiet life in the country.

  Yes, for them she would push beyond survival. She’d never had the chance before. Maybe that was why God had spared her. Maybe this was her chance to find out what she was created for.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Not long after dinner, the inn quieted down for the night. The guests went to their rooms or the bunkhouse earlier than they used to. Before Leonard’s stroke, Frederick had always kept them entertained after dinner, and the lively conversations would roll until the tired travelers were ready for bed. But tonight, Frederick had stayed quiet at dinner, staring solemnly at the two empty seats at his table, like he had at every meal for the past three weeks.

  Solo missed the games of cards that used to start after dessert and how Eva and Sybil would join in once their hosting chores were done. He missed how Zeke would get sleepy and sit in Claudia’s lap until his mama came out of the kitchen. Lately, Claudia ate her meals in the cottage at Leonard’s side, and Zeke sat by his grandfather in silence.

  The inn wasn’t the same with the family’s current woes. Solo understood their need for rest and quiet. Since taking on Leonard’s farm chores and some of the stable work, by evening he was too tired to write. But tonight, he wasn’t ready to go up to his room just yet.

  He wandered out the front door and sat in the swing on the east side of the long porch. From there, he had a solemn view of last light’s fading glow in the western sky. With his room situated on the back side of the house, he rarely got to see this aspect at night.

  The swing’s rusty chain buzzed rhythmically when he set the bench seat in motion. The curtains on the inside of the window adjacent the swing were parted, and a lamp in Eva’s office illuminated her disorganized desk. She must be planning to work in there after Zeke fell asleep upstairs. How she kept this place running while raising a son and doing half of Claudia’s chores was astonishing!

  He returned his gaze to the sky, but the last slip of soft light disappeared. Only darkness pitted with emerging starlight remained. He should go up to his room and write, but the cool air and gently squeaking swing lulled him to stay put.

  This was the twenty-third of his forty-night stay at the inn. Only seventeen left. He’d barely written one children’s story. Nothing was going like he’d planned, but he couldn’t feel sorry for himself. After all, Leonard and Claudia were having a much harder time than he was.

  The front door opened and Zeke’s growing puppy ran out ahead of Eva. She closed the door behind her and pulled a long pin out of her hair. Her tresses fell in a velvety cascade down her back. The swing’s creak got her attention. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.” She pointed at the puppy. “I had to bring Joshua out before bedtime.”

  Solo suddenly wanted her company more than he wanted to be alone. “Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the cool air.”

  She wrapped her arms under her woolen shawl. “It is a bit chilly out here.” She led the puppy to the grass beyond a line of evergreen shrubs then spoke to Solo over the porch railing. “Thanks for doing the milking this morning and for working in the stables again today.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “When I took dinner to the cottage tonight, Leonard said he’s grateful for all that you are doing.” Her gaze lowered to the ground. “At least, I think that was what he said.”

  Solo was less concerned with getting their appreciation as he was taking away some of her burden. “Don’t worry. Leonard’s speech will clear up in no time.”

  Eva blew out a long breath through pursed lips. “I hope so.”

  “A week ago, we didn’t expect him ever to talk again, so this is progress. Remember what the doctor said.”

  She lifted a hand. “I know. And I’m trying to stay positive, especially in front of Leonard and Claudia.”

  Joshua finished his business and scrambled up the porch, his claws clinking on the painted wooden steps. The puppy zipped past Eva and ran straight to Solo. He scooped the dog up. “You’ve grown like a weed since I brought you here.”

  Eva rounded the column and walked toward the swing but didn’t sit. “Zeke feeds him from the table.”

  The dog plopped down on the swing beside Solo. He petted the puppy while he started swinging again. “I used to sneak table scraps to my dog when I was a boy. My mother would swat my hand if she caught me.”

  That brought a grin to Eva’s full lips. After a moment her grin slowly dissolved. “I wouldn’t swat Zeke. It drives me mad when people hit children.” She turned her face toward the office window beside them. “I should finish my paperwork, but I don’t want to go back inside.”

  “Then don’t.” He lifted the puppy and scooted over to make room for her on the swing.

  She glanced at the seat then him and finally shrugged. “Why not?”

  A twinge of victory bolstered his confidence. The swing wriggled beneath him as she got settled. Then he set it in motion again, slowly rocking up and back. The wind stirred the scent of Eva’s soap and skin, mesmerizing him. As he breathed it in, his shoulders relaxed and his heart pumped renewed blood through his system.

  A desire to give her anything and everything she could ever want woke him from his evening doldrums. He watched her in his peripheral vision, not wanting to stare at her and scare her away.

  What did she want that he could give her? She needed help with the farm chores, but he was already doing all he could. She needed help watching Zeke while keeping an eye out for her aging father and managing the temporary workers, but he did that too. She hadn’t asked anything else of him… except on that first night he was in his room and she came to the door.

  What if he gave in to her demand from that night and told her why he’d come to the inn? Would it build her trust in him or reignite her suspicion? She shifted on the swing, and her arm brushed his. His stomach knotted like the first time he’d wanted to kiss a girl in the schoolyard.

  That was different… juvenile. Now he was a grown man and the feelings swirling inside him weren’t curiosity or simply physical attraction. This was so much more. Eva was a powerful woman he could love and respect.

  His granddad had always said every good relationship was built on honesty. If he wanted to get to know her, he had to let her know him. He took one more deep inhale of her scent and wiped his sweaty palm on his trousers. “I came to the inn to write… to write a book of children’s stories.”

  She turned her chin toward him but kept her gaze straight ahead. “
Children’s stories?”

  “My granddad was a storyteller and made up the best stories, fables mostly. I have a few of my own. I always wanted to write them down and have it turned into a children’s book.”

  She didn’t say anything, so he kept talking.

  “Your father knew my granddad from way back. One day a couple of years ago, he asked me if I remembered any of my granddad’s stories. I told him I did and I had come up with my own too. He encouraged me to get them on paper. I tried.” He stole a quick glance to see if her expression gave away her opinion. It didn’t, so he kept talking. “There isn’t any privacy in the bunkhouse at the ranch in Riverside, and I still had awhile to work before I got my own land. Your father invited me here for a few weeks, but I couldn’t take a room for nothing, so I stored up credit with him over the past two years.”

  Eva released a defeated breath and hung her head. “I’m so sorry for accusing you of—”

  He hadn’t meant to shame her. “Please don’t. That’s not why I’m telling you.”

  Her voice lacked its usual fullness. “Then why are you telling me this now?”

  Something told him to back down, that this wasn’t the time, that he wasn’t man enough for a strong woman like Eva. He was just a horse breeder from someone else’s ranch, not even second in command. His fingers stilled their petting as the puppy lying against him fell asleep.

  Eva needed a man who matched her force outwardly as much as inwardly, a man whose presence made other men cower. He wasn’t that man; he had his defects.

  He also had a faithful heart filled with the desire to love this woman and her son, to keep them safe, to make them his family. He stopped the swing with his feet. “I want you to know the truth.”

  She raised her head. “The truth?”

  He caught her eye, needing her to see his sincerity. “I want you to know you can trust me.”

  She lowered her chin. “Solo, if there is one person I’ve come to count on in the past few weeks, it’s you. With my inn, with my son. I wouldn’t let Zeke follow you around all day if I didn’t trust you.”

  That was all he needed for now but not all he wanted. He faced the dark horizon and put his arm over the back of the swing behind her then waited for her reaction. She didn’t lean in, nor did she pull away.

  Just as he turned his face to tell her he was glad he’d come to the inn even if things weren’t going how he’d planned, she looked up at him. They both froze, their lips inches apart. Her eyelashes fluttered as she gazed at his mouth. Everything inside him yearned to kiss her, and from her staggered breath, he guessed she would let him.

  If he did kiss her, she might think that was why he’d opened up to her, that he was only building her trust so he could take more from her. It wasn’t the reason at all, and he certainly wasn’t going to risk losing her trust now. He broke their gaze and turned his face away, focusing on no particular point in the dark as he set the swing in motion again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eva carried a stack of dirty plates to the kitchen after lunch and knocked the leftover fragments of Sybil’s delicious baked trout into the scrap pan for the chickens. Most of last night’s guests had left this morning, save for a family from Pleasant Valley and two traders who’d stayed to help with the farming. With no new arrivals scheduled for tonight, Eva expected the inn to be quiet.

  Fewer guests meant less work, which she was grateful for considering she and Sybil were currently splitting Claudia’s housekeeping and laundry chores on top of their own. Fewer guests also meant less potential help with the harvesting.

  So far though, Solo was handling the farm work more efficiently than five men could. It was nice to have a healthy, reliable man staying long term at Falls Creek. Someone vibrant and agile, unlike her father and Leonard.

  She paused by the sink as the feeling of sitting with Solo on the porch last night warmed her heart. It felt comfortable to relax beside him on the swing, knowing he cared about the inn, about her.

  There was more to him than she’d first thought. He was once just another guest to her, then an unwelcome long-term boarder. But once he saved Leonard’s life and the harvest, everything changed. She could depend on him.

  And unlike most of the people she’d depended on in her life, Solo hadn’t left… yet.

  Last night on the porch swing, she’d wondered about his family, his childhood, how he got the scar on his eyebrow, if he had a sweetheart somewhere. But she hadn’t asked. The quiet had been too nice to shatter with conversation, her tongue too tired to form unnecessary words. All that was needed was the peace between them and the lovely way it opened her heart. She was starting to care for him too. He would make a wonderful father for Zeke.

  She nearly dropped the dish at the thought. She couldn’t think that way. Shouldn’t. Maybe it was just the warmth off the stove that was flushing heat to her face. Yes, that was all. She’d been overworked and overwhelmed, so of course she had enjoyed the few relaxing moments on the porch swing with a caring man who was doing ninety percent of the farm and stable managing for no pay. That didn’t mean they would get married and be a family.

  These feelings swirling inside her weren’t romantic sentiment. Not at all. Couldn’t be. She’d promised her heart to Ezekiel forever, and loving anyone else would break that promise. Her heart wasn’t strong enough to love twice.

  Or was it?

  Zeke ran into the house through the side door, commanding Eva’s attention. He was carrying a basket of Claudia and Leonard’s dirty dishes. He hefted the basket onto the countertop by the sink. “Here you go, Mama.”

  “Thanks, love.”

  “Mama?”

  “Hm?”

  “Do I have to do school lessons this afternoon? I want to play outside with Benny.”

  Eva glanced out the window over the sink. The young boy whose family was staying at the inn was running across the yard by the greenhouse. He appeared to be a head taller than Zeke, but his parents said he was only eight. Zeke rarely had a chance to play with boys even close to his age. The two had chatted incessantly throughout lunch, warming her heart. She smiled at her son. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to skip your lessons for one day. You may go play with your new friend.”

  He beamed widely, revealing a sliver of white breaking through the space in his gums where he’d lost his front tooth. She bent down to have a closer look. “Your first adult tooth is finally coming in. It looks very handsome.”

  He was too excited about going to play to care about a tooth. “I know. Bye, Mama!” he said, as he ran out of the kitchen.

  Sybil chuckled as she scrubbed the stove. “Sweet boy.”

  As Zeke dashed for the side door, Frederick was walking down the hall. He stopped in the doorway and pointed at Zeke. “Where is he going in such a fired-up hurry?”

  Eva scraped the fish bones off another dish. “To play with his new friend.”

  Frederick nodded briskly. “Well, I’m heading out to the cottage to check on Revel.”

  “Leonard, you mean.”

  Frederick started to walk away then turned back and looked at her. He scratched his white beard. “Leonard?”

  “Yes, Leonard.”

  “Who is Leonard?”

  Eva’s stomach sank. She set the dish down and wiped her hands on her apron, trying to look unconcerned even though she wanted to tell her father to go sit in the comfy chair in the reception room and not get up. “You said you will check on Revel, but you meant Leonard. It’s your cousin Leonard who is in the cottage recovering from a stroke. He and Claudia have lived there for over forty years.”

  Frederick looked out the screen door, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then where is Revel?”

  She slowly stepped toward her father and put a hand on his arm. “Your son Revel is living in Good Springs while he works with Connor Bradshaw. Remember, John Colburn is boarding him?”

  He peeled her hand off his arm. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

&nbs
p; “Father, I—”

  “I’m seventy years old—”

  “Seventy-two.”

  “And I don’t need you treating me like a child.”

  It would only upset him if she defended herself, so she simply nodded.

  Her father squared his shoulders and walked outside. She stood at the kitchen window, watching to make sure he made it to the cottage.

  Sybil gave her a sad look and met her by the window. “He is getting worse, isn’t he?”

  A catch in Eva’s throat kept her silent. Her chin tightened. Sybil leaned her head against Eva’s shoulder and they stared out the window silently like they often did after Revel left and their mother left. And after Ezekiel died.

  Neither said a word nor did they need to. The sweet and sad intimacy of knowing and being known without words conveyed more than all the volumes in the world. She’d felt a glimpse of that intimacy with Solo last night too.

  Just the thought of his care for her shined a ray of light into her shadowy heart. It was a hope she could pass on to Sybil. She gave her sister a kiss on the top of her head. “We will be fine, Syb. We will watch out for Father and mind the inn the best we can till Revel comes home. Isaac Owens will move here soon, and we have Solo with us for a while longer.” Only sixteen days to be exact. But who was counting?

  She was. With dread. And not just because he was helping with the farm work.

  Sybil wiped her tears with a knuckle and returned to scrubbing the stove.

  Eva thought of Revel and how he should be here. How he’d abandoned his responsibilities and was off having his adventures while his family suffered. Surely, the honorable Reverend John Colburn didn’t know the whole story or he wouldn’t be harboring Revel and enabling this breach of tradition.

  It was time she wrote to Good Springs’ overseer and let him know he needed to send Revel home to the inn. She brushed her hands on her apron. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

  The lady of the family who was staying in Room 5 had claimed a headache after lunch. Her off-pitch singing was bleeding down the stairs. She must not feel too badly.