The boys didn’t want to play in the sand that day. Aidan had a better idea. There was an old fishing shack that he wanted to explore. At six, Remy was easily persuaded to follow along. She left her plastic pail and shovel in the sand, and the three of them jogged down the shore side- by-side like fish dangling on a line.
A rickety ladder was propped against the wall of the fishing shack when they arrived. Jason asked Aidan where it came from. Aidan shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know, but I’ve always wanted to fly,” he said. Flashing a mischievous grin, he led the way, and the two boys scurried up the ladder like squirrels climbing a tree. Remy waited on the ground with her blue eyes locked on them.
“Look at me! I’m a bird!”Aidan yelled as he took a running leap off the roof of the shack. When he alighted on his hands and knees in the deep sand, he smiled triumphantly. Remy giggled and clapped.
“My turn!” Jason hollered. He whizzed through the air, flapping his arms, and landed on his feet. “That was fun. Let’s do it again.” He made a mad dash to beat Aidan to the ladder.
Two more times each boy jumped off the roof to the earth below. The fourth time he jumped, Aidan truly felt as if he was a soaring bird. His eyes were closed, and the wind caught his body, gently carrying him down to the ground, as he twisted and turned like a dried leaf. He’d never had so much fun before. He dared Jay to close his eyes next time. “It’s more fun that way!” he laughed.
Aidan and Remy stood together like tin soldiers and watched Jason squeeze his eyes shut and jump. Only this time he didn’t float like a leaf the way Aidan had. Jason tumbled head over heels like an air acrobat and landed on the crown of his head. Splat. It was the sound a pumpkin makes when it falls off a farm wagon.
Aidan bolted up in bed with sweat drenching his body. He wiped at his face with a fistful of the cotton sheet and furiously shook his head. The same nightmare had occupied his dreams for the past two nights. With his chest heaving, he climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom to splash water over his face. After toweling dry, he stared into the mirror over the sink. The reflection looking back was serious and grim-faced. Thick dark stubble peppered his chin and cheeks. Dark hair hung flat on his shoulders. Smudges under his eyes made him look more raccoon than man. Everything about him felt dark that morning.
Ever since Samantha Landers arrived in Pavee Cove, his world had been turned upside down. He wasn’t sleeping well. Dreams haunted him. His art suffered, because he felt less dedicated to putting in long hours of work and wanting to spend time with her. He couldn’t get Sam out of his mind, which wasn’t like him. It had been years since a woman had occupied his thoughts the way she did.
Coming to Pavee Cove was a move he’d made to exorcise certain demons from his life. Some of those demons were things from the past that had troubled him for as long as he could remember: memories of love and loss, feelings of guilt that he hadn’t been able to shake, questions that remained unanswered, and young passion that waited to be fulfilled.
The past had intermingled with the present for so many years that it had become difficult to recognize what was real and what had been imagined. One thing, however, was certain. An invisible thread drew him to Samantha. Though it was entirely possible she was as crazy as a loon, she’d stirred something deep within him. No sense of connection had ever felt so strong. Behind her sparkling blue eyes smoldered a woman who had awakened a fire inside him so intense that he was unable to extinguish it.
Aidan gazed back at the man in the mirror and imagined her standing next to him, smiling while weaving her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and groaned softly, practically feeling her soft touch on his scalp, her fingers snaking over his collarbone, down his breastbone and into the soft curls on his chest.
His eyes reopened when the sensual picture transformed into an unsmiling Samantha—the woman he’d sat with on the pier who was hurt and confused. Although the incidents she’d mentioned were beyond odd, her panic had been real. It was obvious something very peculiar was going on. Could she have a brain tumor or some other medical malady that caused her to hallucinate? Was she mentally unstable?
For some unexplainable reason, he sensed her troubles were far less cut and dry. Whatever it was that haunted Samantha, she suffered greatly, and he knew he was the only one who could help her.
* * * *
Sunlight poured like liquid gold through the lighthouse bedroom window. Having tossed and turned most of the night, Samantha had been fully awake for the past hour waiting for a decent hour in which to call Chad’s cell phone. She rolled over and glanced at her watch lying on the bedside table. The anticipation of knowing whether the spyglass spell had worked killed her.
Scooting up in bed, she grabbed her phone from the table. When they worked together, Chad had always been an early riser. She had to call before she burst. Every muscle in her body tensed as his name appeared on her contact list and her finger pressed down. Three rings and it went to a voice message.
“The number you have reached has been disconnected. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please try again.”
Sam’s heart sunk. The magic had not worked. She bowed her head to her chest, where it hung for a few moments.
“I tried,” she whispered aloud. “Oh, Chad. Last night I made up my mind that if you didn’t answer your phone this morning, I’d take it as a sign that this is the way it was meant to be. Although I don’t understand any of this—my coming to this place and finding that spyglass—I’ve decided to believe it’s all a part of some mysterious plan. Since you didn’t answer your phone, I have to accept that your accident did happen, you’re still in a coma, and no power in the heavens or on earth can change that. I’m sorry for what happened that day. It’s taken me a long time to accept it, but I know the accident wasn’t my fault. I also know you wouldn’t want me to hold onto any guilt. So I’m going to let you go now. Someday we’ll meet again. I have to believe that. Until then, rest in peace.”
As she closed her eyes to seal her prayer, she felt an invigorating lightness infuse her body. Warmth similar to a cozy quilt around her shoulders enveloped her, and she felt the touch of forgiveness and hope.
Reopening her eyes, she smiled and climbed out of bed ready to face the new day. As she showered and dressed, another man was on her mind. He was the only man she wanted to focus on from this moment on.
“I shouldn’t have stormed off that way yesterday,” she said aloud while blow-drying her long hair. “I’ll apologize to Aidan and hope he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me for acting like such a basket case. Jason, too.”
She left the lighthouse with the car keys jingling in her hand and a bounce in her step. She was headed to town to lay in a supply of groceries from Murphy’s Market. Even though she’d made peace with herself, she was not ready to leave.
Before coming to Pavee Cove, she’d given the crew in Portland her blessing to find other work. She hadn’t expected them to wait around until she got her act together. Most of the men, however, had surprised her by giving their vow to return to her when she was ready to get the business going again. There were still bills to be paid, but Samantha could spare a couple more weeks off. She hadn’t taken a real vacation in years. Anyway, there were too many questions still unanswered regarding the spyglass. Even if she was starting to accept the alternate reality theory, there were things that needed to be sorted out, which she fully intended to do.
Seagulls squawked and swooped over her head as she jogged down the walk to the car. Today, no one, not even nosy Claire, would get a rise out of her.
A bell jangled when Samantha threw open the door to the market. Stepping inside was like stepping back in time. Like the other shops in town she’d entered, the interior floors, shelves and ceiling fans appeared to be original. Women carried wire baskets hanging over their arms and greeted her with smiles as she strolled up and down the aisles filling her own basket.
When she was ready to check out, she stood
in line behind another woman and tried to catch Jason’s eye. He bagged groceries while Claire rang up her customer on a modern cash register, which looked out of place in the old fashioned store. When he looked up, Sam gave him a wave. The drawing together of his brows and immediate pout were obvious signs that he was still mad at her for yesterday. And why wouldn’t he be? She’d had no right to jump on him that way, especially since he was mentally challenged and seemed to be overly sensitive.
“Don’t touch the candy sticks unless you’re going to buy them.” Claire kindly admonished a child who stood on tiptoes and dangled her hand in a large glass jar on the checkout counter.
Samantha hadn’t noticed the little blonde girl until now, as her attention had been riveted on Jason. A spine-tingling tremor moved across her shoulders as she stared at the girl’s back. Her hair was fashioned in a ponytail and she wore a checkered dress, white anklet socks and slip-on tennis shoes. When she removed her hand from the candy jar, she crossed her arms over her small chest in a defiant stance.
“Good bye, Mrs. Billings. Come back soon,” Claire politely said to the customer leaving. “Oh, hello, dear. How are you today?” She coolly greeted Samantha as Sam moved forward and placed her basket on the counter.
“Fine, thanks,” she replied absently. More than ever, she wanted to glance sideways at the little girl, who continued to stand frozen at the counter in front of the candy jar. But the sudden gripping in Sam’s chest kept her from turning her head. For some reason, she felt petrified at what she’d see.
“Jay, say hello to Samantha,” Claire prodded, while removing items from her basket and ringing them up.
“Hello,” he said, with no enthusiasm.
“Hi, Jason.” She met his gaze and smiled. “How is Bowzer doing today?”
“He’s fine.” He didn’t look at her as he began sorting her items into two sacks.
Thank goodness he still has the dog, Sam thought. It was becoming embarrassing trying to explain her erratic behavior all the time. Claire’s face suddenly grew stern and she leaned over the counter toward the little girl. From out of the corner of her eye, Sam could see the child’s hand fishing around in the jar again.
Claire’s voice bit. “I told you to keep your hand out of the candy jar unless you have money to pay. Put that peppermint stick back.”
With her heart beating crazily, Samantha could not stand the suspense any longer. She turned her head at the same time as the little girl. The child stared at her with blue eyes as large as saucers. Grasped in her tiny hand was the peppermint stick.
“It’s you,” Sam gasped.
Without a word, the child twirled and made a beeline for the front of the store.
“Wait!” Sam cried.
“Come back here, you little thief!” Claire hollered.
“Should I go after her, Mom?” Jason asked.
“I’ll pay for the candy,” Sam promised, as she watched the child dash down the aisle. “I’ll be right back.” She followed the girl’s streak out the front door and glanced up and down both ways on the sidewalk. The child was nowhere to be seen. Just like that day on the beach, the little blonde had vanished into thin air.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Hello Samantha.”
She spun around. “Aidan! What are you doing here?” As soon as the words tumbled from her mouth, she felt foolish. He was at Murphy’s Market for the same reason as her, obviously.
“Come to pick up a few things,” he grinned, as if reading her mind. He tracked her gaze over his shoulder. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Did you see her this time?”
“Who?”
“The little girl.” She kept her voice low on purpose, and in control, so as not to draw attention to anyone passing on the sidewalk.
“What little…?” Stopping in mid-question, he angled his head. “You saw her again? The child from the beach?”
She sighed in relief that he’d remembered that day. Thoroughly convinced that reality shifted every time she looked through the spyglass, she had no idea from one moment to the next what the people around her would recall. “Yes. I’m sure she was the same child. She looked straight at me, and it felt like we knew each other. There was something oddly familiar about her. I’ll never forget that face.”
“Did…anyone else see her?” Aidan asked haltingly.
It wasn’t a surprise that he might think she was hallucinating again. But she didn’t take offense, because she finally knew she wasn’t crazy. “Claire saw her. I guess Jason did, too, because he was also at the counter. The girl stole a peppermint stick out of the candy jar and ran out of the market.”
Aidan’s face lit up. “Let’s go inside and see if either of them recognized her. This is a small community, as you’ve learned. Claire probably knows her name.”
“Good idea.” Aidan held the door open for her to pass through first. Surely Claire knew the identity of the child.
“Did you catch her?” Claire asked when they reached the counter. “Hello Aidan.”
“Hi Aidan,” Jason mimicked, slapping him with a high five.
“Claire, Jay.” He faked a wince, as if Jason had smacked his hand too hard.
Samantha noticed her groceries were bagged and the receipt was taped onto one of the sacks. When Claire held out her palm, Sam retrieved a debit card from her wallet to pay. “No,” she replied to answer Claire’s question. “She was a fast little thing.”
Claire swiped Samantha’s card and shook her head. “That’s the second time I’ve caught that rascal in here without a parent. I suspect she’s stolen candy before.”
“Do you know the girl?” Aidan asked.
“Nope. I thought I knew all the kids around here, but maybe her family is new to the area.”
“I thought you had some kind of radar that went off every time someone new came to town,” Sam teased, while actually believing it.
“Guess my radar’s got a glitch in it,” Claire joked back.
“She didn’t look to be but five or six,” Samantha said. “You wouldn’t think her parents would let her run around town on her own at that age.”
“This is a safe place. Maybe they live close by.”
When another shopper stepped up to the counter, Aidan snatched Sam’s bags into his arms and they moved out of the way.
“Could you let me know if you see the girl again?” Samantha asked Claire. “Perhaps you’ll hear something about where she lives or what her name is.”
“Sure, dear. But why are you so curious?”
Aidan cleared his throat and answered. “We saw her alone at the beach the other day. We both just want to be sure she’s okay. Seems her supervision is a bit lacking.”
“I see. All right. I’ll let you know.”
“Bye Aidan,” Jason said when the couple turned to leave.
“I’ll be back after I deliver Sam’s groceries to her car,” he replied.
“I’ll meet you outside,” Samantha told Aidan before taking Jason aside. Her voice dropped so that Claire and her customer could not hear. “I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you yesterday, Jason. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I’ve been on edge lately, but that’s no excuse. I promise it won’t happen again.”
His mouth curved into a lopsided smile. “Okay. Apology accepted.”
“Thank you. Friends?” she asked, offering her hand.
“Friends.” They shook hands. Before she turned to leave, she asked him to give Bowzer a pat for her.
Aidan stood on the sidewalk waiting when she exited the store. “Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Right over here.” They walked the short distance and he deposited her bags in the back seat.
“Aidan,” she began when he straightened, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, and every time we’ve seen each other, actually. You must think I’m a real piece of work.” She offered a shy smile and felt her cheeks heat with shame. The temperature in her cheeks flamed to other parts
of her body when he flashed a high voltage smile that could have melted ice.
“Apology accepted. And yes, I do think you’re a real piece of work.” When her mouth gaped, shocked at his blunt honesty, he chuckled and clarified. “A beautiful work of art, that is.”
“Oh.” Her gaze swung to the ground and she prickled with excitement.
“I’d like to paint you.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You would? I thought you mainly painted seascapes.”
“I do, but…you inspire me.” His gaze was intense and concentrated on her face.
“Thank you for the compliment. I’d be honored to have you paint me. You do mean on canvas, don’t you?” she added quickly.
He laughed. “Yes. I’m not a body artist.”
An image of him painting her naked body sprang to mind, causing her body to catch fire beneath her clothes. “When?” she asked, pushing that picture from her mind.
“When are you free?”
“Just about any time. I’m on vacation. Remember? I have no schedule.”
“I don’t want to take you away from sunbathing, or walking, or whatever you have planned for this morning. We could get started this afternoon around one o’clock if that suits you.”
“That would be fine. Should I wear anything in particular?”
“I’d say a bikini, but you might think I’m coming onto you. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”
“You don’t?” Her gaze honed in more deeply. “Are you coming onto me?”
“Yes,” he admitted, without skipping a beat. “Do you mind?”
Their gazes fused for what seemed an eternity before she spoke, breaking the silence. “Before I answer, I have to ask you a question. Do you believe me now? About the little girl?”
The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel Page 11