Ophelia

by Jessica Lynch

  Ophelia

  Jessica Lynch

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Lynch

  Coming Soon

  Coming Soon

  Stalk the Moon

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  Copyright © 2018 by Jessica Lynch

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Jessica Lynch

  For Teree and Kathryn.

  Because if one of you got a dedication before the other, I’d never hear the end of it.

  Love you!

  Foreword

  This novella, while released after the first Hamlet novel, Don’t Trust Me, is technically a prequel. However, due to the spoilers for Don’t Trust Me, I sincerely recommend reading that book before Ophelia.

  Ophelia is the story of the birth of the cozy bed and breakfast that features so prominently in the first Hamlet novel. However, at its heart, it’s Maria De Angelis’s story—especially in regards to her close relationship with her brother, Lucas, and the small village she calls home. But a majority of this novella also deals with a very significant event in Maria’s life: her assault at the hands of an outsider. The event is touched upon in the first novel but here, in Ophelia, readers will see the scene as it happened.

  One of the most important parts of Maria’s character is how she fought back. That doesn’t change. Most of the assault was an attempt and we all know that Mack Turner paid for his crimes. That said, the scene is more explicit in Maria’s story than it was told in Tessa’s book. I just wanted to put a warning here for those who might be uncomfortable with or triggered by such a scene.

  Thank you for taking a chance on Ophelia. As always, I am forever grateful for any feedback or reviews!

  xoxo, Jessica

  1

  Eight Years Ago

  Four suitcases. That was all she needed. Four suitcases to pack up everything she wanted to take with her when she left. At a few months past twenty, that meant she needed one suitcase for every five years she lived in the big family home.

  She could’ve taken more. With her parents gone, technically everything they left behind belonged to her and her older brother. Half to Maria, half to Lucas. But that was technically. By right of a will she’d been too young, too carefree to realize they would ever need.

  So, yes, she could pack up Mama’s silverware or drag Papa’s well-worn tools behind her as she made her escape, sneaking out like a thief in the night. She could, but she wouldn't. She liked the idea of her parents’ things staying at the house, almost like they would return one day for them.

  It wouldn't be right, bringing them with her when she left. They belonged to the house and, now, the house belonged to Lucas.

  Leaning over, her long dark hair a curtain, Maria patted the lid of the last suitcase, grabbed the zipper and tugged. The zipper resisted. She yanked. It caught on the hem of the last shirt she had folded and placed on top. A rush of heated Italian, a few very careful wiggles of the zipper, one more really forceful tug.

  There. All done.

  Maria straightened, backing away from her bed as she cast a careful eye around her room. As she moved, she noticed that the cross she habitually wore around her neck had fallen loose as she struggled with her suitcase. She rubbed the smooth silver, a silent prayer, a soothing gesture, then tucked it back under her blouse.

  The furniture would be staying, too. When she finally found a place of her own, she would take the time, the energy to furnish it by herself. Until then, Caroline had offered her a room in her mother’s inn until she could either buy one of the few vacant properties in Hamlet or have one built.

  Bonnie Mitchell’s inn was the only available boarding in their small town. Anyone who wanted to get away without actually leaving Hamlet had stayed over in her inn at least once. Maria still had her key card from the last time she had—a party with some of the other kids in her high school class—and she made sure to tuck that in her pocket as she packed. No point in Caro wasting another one on her.

  Maria’s quick scan revealed she’d packed everything she would be taking with her. There was nothing left for her to do after that. Lingering would be pointless. It wasn’t like she would never come back to her former home. It’s just that, when she did, it would belong to Lucas and Caitlin.

  Her radio was waiting for her on her old nightstand. Maria didn’t have a car because there was no need for one. She never left Hamlet by herself and, on the rare occasions she went out of town, Lucas brought her in his car. But since it would be a pain to lug four suitcases behind her all the way towards the gulleyside where the Hamlet Inn was, Caro promised that she’d have her boyfriend, Roy, pick Maria up when she was ready.

  Reaching for the radio, she—

  A door slammed.

  Maria muttered a curse under her breath. If that was Lucas—and who else would it be?—he was early. What sort of man came home from his honeymoon early?

  Then again, what sort of man chose to marry a woman that he wasn’t in love with?

  She could never understand what made him do it. Four years older than Maria, Lucas was only twenty-four. He was still doing his residency, traveling more than an hour each way to the closest county hospital. Sure, he'd been with Caitlin since they were teens but, as she often marveled to herself, she wasn't even sure her brother actually liked her.

  No matter her suspicions, they were married now and Lucas was the first born, the son. The heir. The house was his, for him and the family he would make with Caitlin. She understood it, even if she didn’t like it.

  Casting one final look around her room, Maria patted her cross through her thin blouse and sighed mournfully before turning to meet Lucas in the foyer. She wasn’t fast enough, though. He must have known where to find here because, two steps away from her door, he appeared in the hallway, right in front of her.

  She moved so that she was blocking the entrance to her room with her body. Lucas was tall and lean, but she’d caught up in height to him when she was in her teens. There was a barely an inch separating them when she wore shoes. In her bare feet, he just managed to top her. If she didn’t want him to see past her, he wouldn’t.

  And she didn’t want him to see the suitcases yet. She’d hoped to be gone before he got back. Knowing her brother as she did, Maria knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on either of them.

  Oh, well. Fingers crossed.

  “Lucas, sta—”

  “Ah.” He shook his head, a stern gleam turning his icy blue eyes dark. “Try again?”

  Maria nodded. English. “Right.”

  Papa often spoke in Italian when he was frustrated. Mama’s soft lilt was home for Maria. But Lucas… he worked hard on erasing his accent. It disappeared year after year while Maria clung tightly to hers. In the time since their parents’ deaths, she could count the number of times he lapsed into the language on one hand.

  She also lost track of how often he scolded her, reminding her to switch back to English.

  When Papa died suddenly and Mama faded away right after him, they took the last of their heritage with them. No more speaking Italian at home. No more Mass every Sunday like clockwork. Lucas let her get away with cooking the old recipes, the homemade sauce, the never-ending lasagnas and ragùs, but even then she knew it
was only because he had a hearty appetite.

  She’d heard horror stories of Caitlin somehow managing to burn pasta. Her poor brother. He was going to starve to death.

  “What I was going to say was what are you doing here, Luc? I wasn’t expecting you for another couple of hours.”

  He shrugged. “You know Caity. I wanted to take her to Hawaii, she refused to leave the state. I’m surprised I managed to drag her out of Hamlet. When she started to figure the station house was falling apart without her there, she... convinced me to come back home early.”

  Maria covered her ears with her hands. From that small meaningful pause, she had a pretty good idea just how Caitlin convinced Lucas. “La, la, la. Little sister here, who doesn’t need to know about any of that.”

  Shameless. Lucas was shameless. She could hear the rumble of his chuckle despite trying the block him out. It had been an accident, but Maria had never gotten over walking in on Lucas and Caitlin a few months before their wedding. She’d seen way more of her new sister-in-law than she ever wanted to do and thanked God every day that Caitlin had been on top.

  Which was another reason why she had to go. She liked to pretend Lucas was as innocent as she was.

  Maria caught Lucas peeking over her shoulder. Instead of leaning against the doorjamb, she straightened up. “Sheriff McKinley’s been running the department for forever. I think he could spare Caity for a week.”

  “There’s a new deputy. She doesn’t think he’ll last.”

  “Mason Walsh,” she said absently. He moved to his right. She countered by shuffling to her left. “I heard.”

  Lucas didn’t ask if she knew him. Stupid question. In their small village, everyone knew everyone.

  “You were in his classes?”

  “All through school. His mom even taught us a couple of years.”

  “Mrs. Walsh. I remember her.” Lucas’s chuckle was even more amused. “I don’t think she liked me very much.”

  “She probably didn’t like how often you pointed out that the teachers were wrong.”

  He pretended to consider Maria’s point. Nodding, he said, “Well, yes. There’s that.”

  She shook her head, her own laugh bubbling up and out of her. Maria was going to miss seeing him every day. Lucas might drive her nuts with his overprotective big brother act, always looking over her shoulder, looking out for her, but she was going to miss him.

  “Is Caitlin here? I haven’t seen her since the wedding. I can go say hi.” And move Lucas away from her hastily packed bedroom.

  “No. Just me. I thought I would take a couple of things back to Cait’s while she’s at the station, then come back after I get home from the hospital tomorrow to pack up some more. Give me a couple of days and then the house will be all yours.”

  Maria had grabbed Lucas by the arm while he was talking, already planning to lead him down the hall and towards the foyer. When she understood what he said, she nearly stubbed her toe on the carpet. Only her grip on his arm kept her from stumbling and falling over.

  “Wait— what? Cosa vuoi dire?”

  His eyes flashed in annoyance at her slip but he didn’t correct her this time. “Of course it’s yours. You didn’t think I was going to move Caitlin in here, did you?”

  That’s exactly what she thought. “Why wouldn’t I? You married her. It makes sense that she would move into your house.”

  “And then what? You thought we would just kick you out?”

  Maria let go of him in order to cross her arms over her chest. She didn’t appreciate his tone. “I have a place to stay.”

  “Yes,” Lucas told her. “Here. This is your home, Maria. So go unpack your suitcases—oh, yes, I saw them—and go put your things away. Then, since you’re so keen to pack, you can help me get my things together. If anyone is going to leave, it’ll be me. I’ve already made the arrangements.”

  His tone was absolute. Final. Obviously, Lucas had been giving this as much thought as Maria had been. And, like every other time in her life, he was going to win.

  For once, she thought she wouldn’t mind.

  Still, she felt like she had to try to fight back. As much as she wanted to stay—and, boy, did she want to—she also knew that Lucas would be expecting it. She hated to disappoint him.

  “What am I going to do with this big place all to myself?”

  “I don't know.” Lucas raised his eyebrows. He looked at her in that piercing way he had, the one that made Maria think her brother had the ability to see right through to the heart and soul of her. And then he asked her something he had never asked her before—

  “What do you want to do?”

  The house was as empty as it had ever been before. Over the years, she had spent countless nights inside alone. It was different now, though. She wasn’t waiting for someone to come back.

  It was so weird. No wonder she had trouble falling asleep.

  She’d expected to be settled in at the Hamlet Inn. Instead, she was lying in her childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling, letting Lucas’s question whisper through her mind.

  What do you want to do?

  It wasn’t just Lucas. No one had ever asked her that before.

  She didn’t have to work. Maria wasn’t naive. Regardless of her home being in such a small village, she knew that most everyone needed to make a living in some manner. Her brother, for example, had strived to be a physician for as long as she could remember. He claimed he had a desire to help others, heal them. Secretly, Maria thought her overprotective, control freak brother loved the idea that he had a hand in playing God by becoming a doctor.

  Lucas didn’t have to work. He wanted to.

  Maria… it never crossed her mind. After her parents both passed, she simply stepped into her Mama’s shoes. She tended to the house, did the laundry, cooked the suppers. The De Angelis family had more than enough money that she could exist happily in her quiet way in her quiet house without ever having to work.

  Now the house was too quiet.

  But, Maria thought in a burst of sudden inspiration, it didn’t have to be.

  “You want to what?”

  Ignoring the incredulous tone in her brother’s voice, Maria finished sliding a pair of poached eggs and a pile of crispy bacon onto a plate before plopping it right in front of Lucas. She figured she had a much better chance of convincing him of her idea when he had some good food inside of him.

  It was part luck and another part knowing him as well as she did that led Lucas back to their—she supposed it was now her—kitchen table. Always an early riser, Maria bet that Lucas would be up and on his way to the hospital at an hour when the rest of Hamlet would still be asleep.

  She was right. And so what if he was a married man now? Breakfast to Caitlin was a bowl of cereal. He couldn’t turn down an offer of bacon and eggs.

  Getting him to agree to her plan, however… that might prove to be a little trickier.

  “A bed and breakfast. You know? A place where guests can stay the night and I can offer them a nice meal before they go.”

  Lucas picked up his fork, dug into his plate. “Isn’t that what the Hamlet Inn is for?”

  She expected that argument. “That’s more like a hotel. I want my B&B to be cozier, more homey. I wouldn’t have too many rooms. Maybe five or six. That way I won’t feel like I’m wasting all this space.”

  He nodded at the chair across from him. The one Maria habitually took when they sat down to eat together. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

  Her stomach was tied up in knots. She was too nervous to eat. “Later. Promise. But, first, tell me what you think.”

  Lucas snorted. “You don’t want me to do that.”

  “Luc!”

  “What?” He picked up a piece of bacon, chewing on it thoughtfully. “You don’t honestly believe I’d actually approve of this scheme of yours, do you?”

  No. Not if she was being honest. The idea had seemed so perfect, in the quiet and solitude in the middle o
f the night, that she couldn’t help but hope.

  With a frown, she slumped into her chair.

  Lucas raised his eyebrows at her easy defeat. He took a sip of the orange juice he knew she had squeezed for him by hand and said, “It’s a good thing the house is yours then. It doesn’t matter a damn if I’m against it or not. Which I am, mind you. It’s still up to you.” He held up his plate. It was already empty. “If you’re not gonna have any, can I have some more?”

  She sat there, speechless. He knocked all the thoughts out of her head, stole the words right out of her mouth. There was no way Lucas just said—but he had, hadn’t he?

  “What did you say?”

  “I wanted more breakfast. It was delicious.”

  “No,” she said, waving her hand. Her food was always delicious. “Before that.”

  “That I’m against it?”

  “Lucas!”

  He chuckled. Sometimes Maria made it way too easy. “Oh, you mean when I said it’s your house and I’ll support you in whatever you want to do with it?”

  Maria let out an excited shriek before she climbed out of her chair and launched herself at her brother. Chanting “thank you” over and over again, she gave him a big hug before scampering back towards the stove.

  “Gimme a sec, okay? More bacon and eggs coming right up.”

  “For the record, I’m still against it,” Lucas told her, trying to sound stern. She knew he didn’t mean it. The dimple in his cheek as he grinned gave him away.

  In between cracking eggs, Maria blew him a kiss.

  “Love you, too, Luc.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  2