Cider Brook

by Unknown

  “That’s what you’ve been doing the past two years? Since Duncan fired you?”

  Samantha nodded, aware now of Justin in the doorway, listening. She tried to ignore her reaction to having him close by, but she could tell from Olivia’s expression that she noticed. “I’ve continued research into Benjamin Farraday,” Samantha said. “It’ll be time soon to move on to other things. I just don’t know what yet.”

  Buster yawned, then flopped his head on Olivia’s lap. “I lived and worked in Boston until this past March. I always wanted to come back home. I assumed it would be on my own terms, but it didn’t work out that way.”

  “You weren’t fired, were you?”

  “Outmaneuvered by a friend I’d helped get back on her feet. The writing was on the wall at work, and I guess I couldn’t stand the thought of her elbowing me aside. It wasn’t a pretty situation. I’m loyal. I don’t let go of friends easily, and it was difficult for me to feel the knife in my back even when it was in deep.” Olivia stretched out her legs, wiggling her toes close to the fire. Buster was dead asleep now. “But I took the kick in the pants and did something positive with it.”

  “The Farm at Carriage Hill,” Samantha said.

  “It led me to Dylan. I thought he was his father. I didn’t know a thing about either one of them. I just had a name and an address. I sent him quite the starchy note to come clean up his dump of a yard or let me do it.” Olivia laughed at the memory. “I never thought he would take to Knights Bridge. A dose of Southern California and McCaffrey are having an effect around here.”

  “This is such a great place to work, study, think, just be.” Samantha sank deeper into the couch cushions. “I’m always on the move.”

  Justin moved into the room. “I’ve got a fire call,” he said without any detectable emotion. “I have to go.”

  And just like that, he was out the front door and gone.

  Olivia shuddered, her face pale even in the glow of the fire. “I hope it’s not a bad one. I never can tell. It’s easier to find out about a call after they’re all back safely.” She got up and grabbed a log from the wood box and put it on the fire, readjusting the screen with the ease that came with practice. She turned to Samantha, her color back as the flames flared behind her. “You and Justin...”

  “I’m the shiny new outsider,” Samantha said simply.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Justin knows who he is and what he wants. He always has. He’s wired that way.” Olivia studied Samantha a moment. “I’m guessing you’re a woman who knows who she is and what she wants.”

  Samantha gave a short laugh. “That doesn’t mean what I want is sane.”

  “I hear you,” Olivia said, sitting back on the floor next to her sleeping dog.

  “I violated Duncan’s trust, Olivia. That’s why I’m here.”

  She nodded with clear understanding. “It’s tough, I know. I trusted the friend who betrayed me. It was an awful experience, but it led me here, to where I am right now—and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to be back in Boston, trying to compete with Marilyn Bryson. Samantha, I didn’t know Dylan’s father, but everything I’ve learned about him tells me he was a man who’d been around the block a time or two and had a few knocks along the way himself. I bet he’d forgive you.”

  “My father could be tough on people,” Dylan said as he came into the living room with an armload of cordwood. “He was loyal, and he expected loyalty in return. He knew he could be hasty in making decisions, and that made him second-guess himself with you.”

  “He had reason,” Samantha said.

  “Maybe so.”

  “The way I see it,” Olivia said, “the mistake Duncan made wasn’t in trusting you. It was in thinking he couldn’t trust you after he discovered you’d been here and you hadn’t told him your family background.”

  Dylan dumped the logs into the wood box. “We talked about getting into adventure travel together but never got anything off the ground,” he said, grabbing a log that tumbled off the pile and setting it back with the others. “I thought we might after Noah and I took NAK public, but by then it was too late.”

  “Your father had so many ideas,” Samantha said. “Adventure travel would be a natural add-on to his treasure-hunting projects. He loved what he was doing, and he worked hard at it. I learned so much from him in such a short time. When do you think you’ll have this adventure travel business up and running?”

  “Not sure yet.” Dylan sat on the floor next to Olivia. “Brandon Sloan will be working with us. He’s not giving up Sloan & Sons. They’re supportive.”

  “The Sloans might squabble among themselves, but they’re a tight-knit family.” Olivia sat back on the floor next to Buster. “Hurt one, hurt them all.”

  Samantha smiled. “I don’t think I’d want the Sloans on my case.”

  “I had a crush on Justin Sloan when I was thirteen,” Olivia said as Dylan sat next to her. “Every girl did. We all knew he’d stay in town but he’d be hard to catch—not my favorite phrase but you know what I mean.”

  “He’s been decent to me since he pulled me out of that fire.” Samantha didn’t want to go into more detail and changed the subject. “Do you know what kind of fire they’re fighting now?”

  Olivia shook her head, her tight look back. “One thing about being home again, I get to hear when my father goes out on a call. I’m not used to it anymore. He’s in great shape, but it’s time to hang up his firefighting gear. He knows it. Anyway, tell me about your family, Samantha. What are the Bennetts really like?”

  She seemed to want the distraction. Samantha didn’t blame her. She could see the firefighters descending on the cider mill on Wednesday, attacking the fire without hesitation—determined and confident, but not reckless. She knew she hadn’t been reckless, either, in finding herself caught in the fire, but she nonetheless felt as if she had something to prove. As if she had to pay them back somehow, Justin in particular. Now they were off somewhere fighting another fire.

  “Samantha?” Dylan asked, a note of concern in his voice.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about the guys out fighting the fire and the other day....” The fire in the fireplace crackled, and she jumped, then stared at the flames. Maybe she needed a distraction, too. “My family’s close, but we don’t all live in the same town. Hurt one of us, and the rest will stand by you but also wonder what you did to screw up.” She added lightly, “I’m only half kidding.”

  “It must be like having Indiana Jones for a grandfather,” Olivia said. “You’re sort of a female Indiana Jones yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Not even close,” Samantha said with a laugh. “Although I don’t like snakes, either. I hate even thinking about that snake scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

  Dylan got up and went into the kitchen. Olivia stroked Buster’s back as she and Samantha both watched the fire burn in the old fireplace. Dylan returned with glasses of wine, a merlot from Noah Kendrick’s winery. He handed one to Samantha. “Go ahead and stretch out on the couch,” he said, sitting on the rug in front of the fire with Olivia and Buster.

  Samantha took his advice and pulled a wool throw over her as she sipped her wine, grateful for the company. If she’d stayed in her tent, she probably never would have known Justin was out on a fire call. She heard Buster give a contented sigh in his sleep and noticed Dylan brush his lips on the top of Olivia’s head. She was glad she wasn’t alone, but the awareness that she didn’t belong here—that she was an outsider, a stranger with an agenda—that had hit her yesterday at the wedding and again today at the Sloan brunch crept back. But she was determined not to run off this time.

  Dylan glanced at her, as if he knew—even understood—what she was feeling, but he said only, “There’s more wine.”

  A few minutes later, Samantha noticed headlights outside. Olivia jumped to her feet, Dylan following. Buster barked but settled down quickly. In a moment, Justin and Olivia’s father entered through the kitc
hen.

  “A chimney fire,” Randy Frost said. “We got to it in time.”

  Dylan and Olivia joined him in the kitchen. Samantha remained on the couch while Justin came into the living room and stood by the fire. “This time of year, people start burning wood again and forget if they’ve had the chimney cleaned recently. Easiest way is to have it done annually on the same date. First week in September, last Friday in October, whatever.”

  Samantha got out from under her throw and stood next to him in front of the fire. “I’m not sure I do anything on the same date each year.”

  “Birthday, Christmas, Fourth of July.”

  “Good point. Everyone’s okay, though?”

  He nodded. “Shaken up but fine. Randy wanted to stop by. We’re only staying a minute. I’ll drop him off on my way home.”

  She noticed the flames reflected in his eyes. “You look tired, Justin.”

  He leaned in close to her. “A hot bath will do wonders. I’ll think of you.”

  He gave her hand a quick squeeze and was grinning as he left, grabbing Olivia’s father and saying good-night to her and Dylan.

  Samantha couldn’t remember when she’d felt so conflicted, an unsettling mix of loneliness and longing. She called out good-night to her hosts and headed upstairs to her pretty room. She knew when she’d ventured to Knights Bridge that she should keep her distance, but she hadn’t. Now she was falling for a man she could trust with her life but maybe not her heart.

  * * *

  After a hot bath of her own, Samantha sat cross-legged on her bed and called her father. “Do you ever think about the souls who went down with the ship?”

  “I always do,” he said, “but I have to put those feelings aside in order to do my work.”

  “I’d hate to drown or suffocate in a submarine.”

  “I’d hate to be hanged as a pirate. What’s with the gloomy mood?”

  She stretched out her legs, the rustle of the sheets the only sound in the quiet room. “Looking into Benjamin Farraday is leading me to stories and people no one around here has thought of in ages, if ever. I don’t know if any of them have to do with Farraday. There’s a photograph of a couple in 1915....” Samantha leaned back against the padded headboard. “I have a feeling they don’t have a happy ending. I can’t pinpoint why since I don’t even know who they are. Zeke and Henrietta. They’re standing in front of the cider mill.”

  Her father hesitated before responding. “This place is getting to you, isn’t it, Samantha?”

  “Do you ever think about your ancestors?”

  He grunted. “A lot of old bats.”

  “I’m serious, Dad.”

  “So am I. You’ve never been out to the old homestead where your Grandpa Bennett grew up. You’d understand why the Antarctic didn’t faze him. Talk about a hardscrabble life. The past is past. It’s not destiny. The past might deal you a set of cards, but then it’s your hand. You get to make choices.”

  “Do you know why Grandpa put me on to Farraday?” Samantha asked.

  “No idea,” her father said. “When we got together, we tended to talk about the family and how long he had before he had to start spending money on house repairs. He was frugal, which is a polite word for tight.”

  Samantha smiled into the phone. “You’re trying to cheer me up, aren’t you?”

  “I want you to be happy, kid. That’s all. I know your mother and I didn’t give you an Ozzie and Harriet upbringing, but we did our best and love you.” He blew out a breath. “It’s okay if you don’t want the kind of life we’ve chosen. Not that you’re looking for my blessing—”

  “Blessing for what?”

  “For whatever’s next with you. You won’t be cleaning out your grandfather’s closets forever. Anyway, I was about to call you. We’re bringing the party to you.”

  “The party to me? What party, Dad?”

  “The reunion. We found a cabin to rent on a lake in Knights Bridge. Your cousins are starting to carve their initials in the woodwork here. They need some fresh country air. We figured we would all come out there.”

  Samantha restrained herself from groaning. Her family here? In Knights Bridge? “Was this Uncle Caleb’s idea?”

  “He and I conferred after your last crazy call. Any conversation that includes you and the words flood watch, hypothermia and volleyball gets my attention. We had the place rented in no time on the internet.”

  “Mom and Aunt Martha are in on this?”

  “They think Caleb and I are meddling.”

  “You are meddling.”

  “You and this firefighter...” Her father sighed, unrepentant. “Bennetts don’t do anything by half measures, Samantha. Yeah. We’re meddling.”

  “This cabin and lake—”

  “Just above the old cider mill that caught fire with you inside. It’s owned by the Sloans. You should have had a dumber father. Believe me, there are times I wished I’d had a dolt for a father, too. I remember when I was fifteen and thought I was in love with this buxom cheerleader. Old Harry set me straight.”

  “I’m not fifteen and I’m not seeing anyone.”

  He ignored her. “We’ll be there in time for dinner tomorrow. Eloisa is already talking about us all sitting around playing board games. That might be worse than volleyball. We’ll see.”

  Samantha bit back a laugh. “It’ll serve you right if you’re bored out of your mind, you know.”

  “I’m never bored when I’m with my gang. See you tomorrow.”

  After she hung up, Samantha got under the covers, listening to the rain. It was a heavy, steady rain that promised to end tomorrow, probably well before her family descended on Knights Bridge. She appreciated her warm, comfortable room and the chance to reread her notes in peace, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she’d gone back to Justin’s cozy sawmill apartment with him, or if she’d unzipped her tent and invited him in out of the rain.

  Lady Elizabeth sank into her bunk and fought back tears. She knew the truth now but hated to admit it, even to herself, alone in the dark. It had been love at first sight for her with Captain Farraday. She ached to have him with her. She knew in her heart that he would give up his pirate ways for her. He would bring her back home to England, back to her family. They would welcome him and see that he was pardoned.

  A loud knock startled her. She didn’t know whether to pretend it hadn’t awakened her or answer it. She settled for a little of each. “I’m sleeping,” she called groggily.

  “You’re not sleeping,” Captain Farraday said. “You’re wide-awake, daydreaming.”

  “About going home, yes.”

  “About me, Bess. About us.”

  The door opened, and there he was. And she knew she was lost.

  Twenty-Three

  Loretta walked back to Beacon Street after dinner at an upscale Newbury Street restaurant that served the most outrageously wonderful macaroni and cheese she’d ever had. She definitely had to burn it off before she tried to get some sleep. Total carb load. Had to be nerves and jet lag, although she couldn’t explain why she was nervous.

  It was drizzling on and off, with heavy rain moving in from the west. She didn’t own an umbrella, much less have one with her, and she’d only brought a leather jacket, which would do okay in the current conditions. She would need to get back to her hotel before the rain picked up. The jacket was just barely warm enough for the cool temperature. She’d have to buy a damn parka for Dylan’s Christmas wedding.

  Two young girls were out on the stoop in front of the Bennett house, wearing wool sweaters and sitting on raincoats they had spread out on the wet stone steps. Loretta slowed her pace and tried to hear what they were saying without looking like some kind of pervert. The girls seemed to be in a deep discussion about the questionable sanity of their parents. Apparently their cousin Samantha was right there in the screw-loose department.

  “She’s great,” the younger girl, who couldn’t have been more than ten, said
, “but why can’t we have a normal cousin?”

  Her older sister, maybe twelve, gave a long-suffering sigh. “Isaac says she’s falling for the guy in Knights Bridge who rescued her from the fire. She won’t admit it, but Isaac can tell.”

  “Oh, wow. Think we’ll meet him when we go to Knights Bridge?”

  “I hope so. Isaac says this guy carried Samantha out of the fire.”

  The younger girl gasped. “Really?”

  “This cabin sounds good,” the older girl said. “Uncle Malcolm says he’ll play Scrabble with us if we promise not to short-sheet his and Aunt Francesca’s bed.”

  The two girls giggled. Loretta managed to get out of earshot and out of their line of sight without tripping. She didn’t breathe until she got to the corner of the next block.

  Knights Bridge? Samantha Bennett’s young cousins were joining her in Knights Bridge?

  Loretta continued up a side street toward her hotel in Copley Place. Maybe the Bennetts had decided to head to Knights Bridge because it was an attractive town and a good base for seeing the area and getting out of the city. A bunch of innocent reasons were possible. It didn’t have to be anything involving Duncan and Samantha’s treasure hunts. As desperately as she wanted to know what was going on, Loretta had no intention of walking back to the Bennett house, knocking on the door and asking Malcolm Bennett what was up with the entire Bennett family traipsing off to a cabin in Knights Bridge.

  A nasty breeze gusted, bringing with it an unpleasant spray of rain. She picked up her pace. She knew she’d been dragging her heels about going to Knights Bridge. She’d had Julius with her that first time a few weeks ago. Well, with her wasn’t exactly accurate. He’d been escorting his client, Daphne Stewart. The point was, Loretta was well aware that she hadn’t had to face Dylan, Noah and the population of Knights Bridge by herself. She hadn’t had to face the consequences of the two men she cared most about in the world—cared for like sons—having fallen in love with women from this little town on the other side of the continent. What that meant for her. Her life. Her hopes and dreams.