Beneath Winter Sand

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Beneath Winter Sand Page 3

by Vickie McKeehan

“Will do.” She didn’t hang around to argue but grabbed her jacket off the peg and headed out the back door.

  Stepping out into the dark parking lot, she heard firecrackers going off in the distance. She stopped to watch a few red, white, and blue Roman candles spear the night sky and sail out over Smuggler’s Bay in a blast of light and cheer.

  She exhaled into the chilly night air. While others might be willing to stay up and party longer, Hannah was ready to crawl into bed. But she still had to walk several blocks to the little guest cottage she’d rented, a bite-sized bungalow next door to the Bennett Animal Clinic at the corner of Tradewinds and Crescent.

  On her way to reach Ocean Street, she lifted her head to the night sky and breathed in the salty sea air. After being cooped up inside all day with so much stale air and raucous noise, she briefly closed her eyes to suck in the peace and quiet—and bumped squarely into a male chest. It knocked her back a step.

  “Caleb Jennings, I thought you’d be home by now.”

  “It’s such a pretty night. How about a walk along the pier? We could watch Tandy Gilliam’s personal fireworks display, such as it is. He takes to the water every year about now in his twenty-two-footer and rings in the new year, lighting up the night sky in his own way.”

  “As great as that sounds, any other time…maybe. But I’m beat. I think my feet have swollen to twice their normal size after my shoes pinched my toes all evening. I’ll be lucky if I can get these heels to slip off.”

  Caleb grinned. “Then I should at least give you a ride home.”

  “Thanks. But there’s no need. I can use the walk.”

  “At least let me join you and protect you from our infamous ghost.” He lowered his voice, making it sound scary and menacing. “The entity that haunts the alleyways and lurks around dark corners here at night. We have to protect the womenfolk from his…”

  Hannah cracked up with laughter. “Word is that Scott Phillips is a lot of things. Malevolent isn’t one of them. Besides, he doesn’t scare me none.” Although he had scared her the first time she’d witnessed his disappearing act. But she wasn’t going to bring that up to Caleb. After all, she was a pro at putting up a brave front. “I’ve had to deal with all manner of ghosts long before I ever arrived in town.”

  Caleb stuck his hands in his pockets as they began to walk in step down the street. “Now see, that kind of statement just intrigues me more. Even if some of us deal with our own set of ghosts from the past it makes me wonder what yours are like.”

  “Ghosts in this little place? As in plural? Hmm. That’s surprising since I’ve only heard of the one. But I’ll take your word for it. You sound so ominous though. Might as well explain what you mean.”

  “Happy to. Over dinner.”

  She smiled again. “There’s always a catch, huh? I like your idyllic little town. It has charm and the natives seem friendly enough. You’ve lived here all your life, I bet.”

  “Yep. I was born in the hospital over in San Sebastian, the next town over. I’ve been here ever since, except for the time I went away to college.”

  “That sounds so wonderful to grow up along the coast.”

  Was it wonderful? Caleb asked himself. Parts of those early years certainly couldn’t be described as easy or perfect. Nothing about them were. Or so he’d been told by his older siblings. Maybe it was the nostalgia of a new year that brought an image of his dad into his head. He forced himself to conjure up Layne Richmond from pictures he’d seen. It frustrated him that he couldn’t bring anything real to mind. Putting old photographs to memory wasn’t the same thing. He’d last laid eyes on his father as a four-year-old. And most everyone agreed that such a young age rarely provided a true recollection of anything. It made him sad to think he couldn’t capture a single real thing about when his dad had been alive. Brief as the wistfulness lingered, it stuck long enough to make him sigh.

  “Where’d you go just now?” Hannah asked. “You spaced out for a minute.”

  “I guess I did. Sorry. My mind drifted back to a few of those ghosts. There’s no such thing as an idyllic place or life…not anywhere. You’d be setting yourself up for a major letdown to think that way about here. If you’re looking for perfect, that is.”

  She tilted her head to see his eyes. “Are you a little sad tonight, Caleb?”

  “Maybe I am. New year and all. I’m glad you like our little town. You’ve been here a whole three months, long enough to form some sort of opinion about the natives?”

  “My initial reaction was positive since I found work here right away. Plus, I managed to locate a reasonably priced, fully furnished rental. How rare is that? It’s tiny though, but it works for me. You don’t really have to walk me home, you know.”

  It didn’t escape Caleb how she’d neatly changed the subject, without saying too much. “Sure I do. It’s a rule around here. You aren’t allowed to let a pretty woman walk home at night by herself.”

  Hannah bumped his shoulder. “Such a gentleman. I’m not sure I’ve had the fortune to come across many.”

  “Maybe that’s what sets us apart from the big city.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say San Mateo counts as the big city. But I get your point.”

  “You grew up in San Mateo. That’s what? A hundred thousand people maybe. That’s a thriving metropolis compared to here.”

  She studied him like a scientist might study an alien life form, a certain degree of skepticism on her face. “So…you remembered where I’m from. Are you usually this curious about all newcomers?”

  “Not a big deal really. San Mateo isn’t exactly the moon. And there’s not much to talk about in a small town, except maybe the new person.”

  She stifled a laugh. “Somehow, it’s hard to picture you hanging over the fence, gossiping with the old ladies about me.”

  “You? No way. But I often help those same little old ladies pick out their spring tulips. In exchange for the best growing tips, they always let me in on the juiciest buzz coming out of the rumor mill. You’re a helluva lot more interesting than who’s been coloring their hair purple. Or who bought two cases of booze at Murphy’s Market. Right now, you’ll be glad to know you bumped off Nellie Simpkins from the top spot after she took up smokeless tobacco again. Shame on her.”

  “Yuck. Smokeless tobacco. Not exactly me.”

  “I thought not. No, for you the rumor mill’s been on overdrive about what brought you south. The smart money says you went through a disastrous breakup and you’re looking for a fresh start. I’m not buying that one.”

  “Why not? That sounds downright fascinating, almost Hollywood-like.”

  “Because you have a determined look on your face that says, ‘I’m on a mission.’ I’d recognize that resolute attitude anywhere.”

  “You’re mistaking that for tired feet.” An awkward silence descended while she chewed her lip and wondered how he so easily saw through her hard-fought demeanor.

  Sensing that he’d hit on a touchy subject, he backed off and went another way. “As a newcomer, I doubt you know the full backstory about Tandy Gilliam’s love of fireworks. Some years back, that boy was banned from doing his celebratory display on shore after he burned down Ruthie May Porter’s tool shed.”

  This time Hannah cracked up. Her laugh came from the gut and roared its way out like a freight train. “You made that up.”

  “No, ma’am. Tandy is Ruthie May’s next door neighbor, has been for years. Brent banned him from lighting so much as a firecracker on land. He figured out the only way Tandy could be trusted with fireworks is to have as much water around him as possible. So, the chief of police relegated Tandy to his boat. Now, every Fourth of July, every New Year’s Eve, every Christmas morning, Tandy stocks his little sloop with enough Roman candles to last about an hour and sets off his own fireworks celebration in the middle of Smuggler’s Bay. Brent figures that if Tandy catches anything on fire out there, it won’t last long.”

  “Ah. No need for the fire station
to go on alert and the town gets a cheap fireworks display out of the deal.”

  “That’s true. There’s the official one put on by the city every Fourth of July. But since Tandy figures you can’t have too many fireworks, he waits until after the town’s celebration is over and done with, and then lights up the night sky with his own creations immediately afterward. People stand along the pier and wait to see what he’s come up with that’s new, see if he can outdo what he did the year before.”

  “And to think you’re walking me home and missing Tandy’s spectacular display.”

  “We could watch the finale from your front porch. He usually doesn’t wrap it all up until around one-thirty.”

  “Sure. Why not? I guess I won’t be getting any sleep until he gets to the big finish anyway. You love living here, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do.”

  “And you like your job well enough?”

  “I love my job.”

  “I can tell whenever I see you at the nursery hovering over a sick geranium.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “My geraniums are never sick, a result of loving my work so much. Did you ever get that old car of yours running?”

  “Old car? I take exception to that. Surely you mean my classic sought-after 1970 Chevy Suburban with the distinctive grill and the double headlights. In case you haven’t noticed, that make and model is a rare find, just ask any vintage car dealer.”

  She let out a low sigh. “Okay maybe it is a tad old, but Wally’s still working on getting me a great deal on a new engine. First, he had a tough time locating one until he found a guy in the Bay Area who collects classic Chevys and the parts to keep them running. I guess making the drive down here was more than the poor old girl could handle. The engine had almost two hundred thousand miles on it. I feel bad about pushing her like that. The motor gave out practically at the city limits sign. I hadn’t been in town two minutes before it stalled out. I feel guilty that the poor thing gave me her last mile.”

  “How are you getting back and forth to work?”

  “Wally loaned me a Chevy he fixed up until he gets mine running. Another example of how friendly the folks are here.”

  “Ever thought about getting a new one? We have a used car lot now.”

  “Run by Brad Radcliff. Yeah, I know. He came by to see me, left his business card. But I’m not in the market for a new car. My Suburban will be just fine once Wally gets done with it. Those cars are hard to come by, even harder to replace. I can wait. I’ve learned over the years to be a very patient person.” She didn’t mention the vehicle’s sentimental value or how hard she’d fought to locate it.

  “Just as well. I like your Suburban. You get major points for being able to drive a stick. Not too many people want to make the effort anymore.”

  “I had to learn the ins and outs of using the clutch on a hill early on.” She chewed her lip, wondering how much she could trust him. She finally blew out a breath. “Look, can I tell you something sort of strange?”

  “Sure.”

  One of Tandy’s rockets lit up the sky behind them.

  “That day we had coffee together at the diner, I got this sense about you there was a sadness lurking around from your past. Your aura is very cloudy, very murky. I think you’re troubled about something.”

  He lifted a brow. “You believe in that sort of stuff? Murky auras?”

  “I very much do.” She stared into his eyes. “You don’t like to talk about the past.”

  “Neither do you.”

  She could still hear fireworks spearing into the night sky when they reached the end of the driveway that led up to the little bungalow. From the popping sound one right after the other, it appeared that Tandy’s finale was slightly ahead of schedule.

  She pivoted where she could see the red, white, and blue streaks and felt Caleb’s arm come around her shoulders. They stood there watching the last of Tandy’s fireworks burn out.

  The air calmed. A stillness blanketed the neighborhood.

  She turned back to gaze up at the mint green painted cottage with its white and brown trim. Behind that dark chocolate front door, she’d set up house. For how long, she couldn’t say. But she’d signed a yearlong lease and was here until she got the answers she wanted.

  She realized Caleb was talking to her, so she leaned on him to hear better.

  Caleb gave her a strange look. “I’m not the only one who zoned out.”

  “Sorry. Like you, my mind wandered. What were you saying?”

  “It’s super strange you got the sense that I’m sad, considering I got the same kind of vibe about you. There’s something in your past you’re reluctant to discuss.”

  She angled her head so she could read his face in the light from the street lamp. “Hmm. I could say how odd that is, but then who really wants to talk about their dark past? Not me. And it seems, not you. Not anyone who’s lived through a bad time. So, I think we’re pretty much even on that score.”

  Caleb lifted a shoulder and stared into her amber eyes again. “Makes sense. But what exactly brought you to Pelican Pointe, Hannah?”

  She patted him on the cheek and stood on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss, a barely-brush of lips. “I don’t really know for certain. Not yet anyway, that’s what I’m here to find out.”

  “Now who’s being evasive and mysterious?”

  She headed down the walkway but when she reached the little stoop, she turned back. “Not me. Happy New Year, Caleb. And thanks for taking the time to see me home.”

  “Hannah?”

  “What?”

  “Will you have dinner with me next week?”

  “I’d love to. What night?”

  “Tuesday. I promise I won’t get called in to work.”

  She gave him a wide smile. “Okay, it’s a date. But you have to bring your A-game and prepare to answer some questions.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “It’s a deal. See you Tuesday.”

  Inside her main room, the five hundred square foot space closed in around her. She kicked her shoes off at the door and plopped down on the little love seat near the window. She moved back the curtains to watch Caleb walk away.

  She couldn’t explain her attraction to him. Oh, sure, the man was good looking, all that brown hair and those gorgeous blue eyes would never rouse the upchuck reflex from any female under the age of ninety. No question the guy was eye candy. He also seemed nice enough on the surface. But it was the aura surrounding him that intrigued her. It held the most questions. Something sad there that needed his attention. She felt he might be a kindred soul. His aura might even hold the deep-seated answers she was looking for.

  Of course, he wasn’t the right age; of that she was certain. She’d already hinted around that with his florist sister just to be on the safe side. Drea had provided her with Caleb’s birthdate. Amazingly, she and the landscaper had been born a scant two months apart. So, Mr. Jennings was definitely too old to be her brother, Micah.

  But he might hold information without even knowing it, info that would lead her to Micah’s whereabouts.

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” said a voice from the corner of the room.

  Hannah studied her ghostly guidance counselor and let out a frustrated breath. The man she’d come to accept for popping up at weird times could no doubt test the patience of a nun. Like tonight. She knew he wasn’t real, yet, she’d relied on him for the past three months and refused to give up now. She was in too deep. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want me to know and cut this clue-driven mysterious crap? It’s been a long damn day and I’m tired of your BS.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is that any way to talk to me when I’m trying to help you?”

  “Some help you are. You got me to move here. Why get me here and then stall? Oh. Wait. It doesn’t work like that,” she mimicked in unison with the words he so often used as an excuse for not telling her anything.

  “Stop it,” Scott lame
nted. “You think this is easy? It takes time for all this to come together.”

  “So, you keep telling me. You’re beginning to sound like a broken record. Same excuses over and over again. It must be tough being the big know-it-all in town and have everyone at the mercy of your beck and call.”

  “Tougher than you think.”

  “Oh boo-hoo.”

  “Are you this bitchy because you’re tired, or what?”

  “I’m like this because I’m losing my patience with you. I want to find Micah and you aren’t helping. You said you’d help. That promise is what brought me here. So don’t act like you’re stumped at why I’m upset.”

  When he started to open his mouth, she leveled her finger at him and added, “And stop saying this takes time. I’ve been here three months already and…nothing. How much time does it take? Longer than three months? Three years? What? You need to be a lot more specific.”

  “And with that attitude you might be here a year before you figure it out,” Scott said flatly. He pointed a finger right back at her. “I can only set your feet on the right path. It’s up to you to find out the rest yourself. And just so you know, I’m not on a timetable to suit your emotions or your moods. You upset the apple cart and you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Think about whether you’re truly prepared to find Micah and then we’ll talk.”

  Before she could get out her response, right in front of her, the image of the man vanished.

  Left alone, she muttered, “I was afraid you were going to do that. Your shtick never changes. When the conversation gets tough, you always disappear.”

  Two

  After walking Hannah home, he headed back to where he’d left his truck parked at the bar. The early hours of a brand-new year seemed like the perfect time to reflect about what might have been.

  Funny how life was like a fierce game of poker. The dealer could make you weep with a losing hand one minute, and jump for joy at a full house the next. That’s the way Caleb thought about his life. There were two parts to it—two polar opposites. A bad start had morphed into a win-win after his mother pulled her little vanishing act. Left abandoned, he’d gone to live with Shelby and Landon. The couple, who’d started life out as his aunt and uncle had ended up Mommy and Daddy. He’d hit the lottery there. They’d raised him right since the night his mother disappeared into the waters of Smuggler’s Bay.

 

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