by Angel Moore
“Your car?”
“If you aren’t opposed to riding in it, you’re welcome to come along.”
“Opposed? It’s a great car! I’ve never ridden in anything so fine.”
“Let’s go then. Since the weather is so nice, I’ll lower the top.”
She went with him to the car, amazed at how God had turned what she thought might be an awkward day into a wonderful coming home of sorts for Victor.
Now, if only he could help her find the treasure.
Pastor Riggins’ words about treasure rang in her memory. She wasn’t motivated by greed. Would God mind if she searched for the gold?
* * *
Victor closed the door and locked it on Monday night at eight. The last customers had left with bags of candy and cookies to eat while they sat on the pier or on the sand at the beach to watch the fireworks.
The day had been another success. In the last four days, he’d done more business than he’d done in the last three weeks. Had his new candies caused him to turn an economic corner? Had the people of Treasure Harbor embraced him as a native and showed their support just to be kind, or was he really going to make a go of the store with his new ideas? If the next few weeks continued on this pattern, he’d be able to pay the tax bill and get some new furnishings to finish the updates he’d started on the interior.
He might have to get some of the furnishings from Mallory. The chairs were a topic of conversation among his customers. Her eye had been good on the paint scheme. And she’d been right about his mother’s mirror. He should probably ask her advice before buying anything else.
A tapping on the front glass could only be her. He picked up the picnic basket and turned out the lights as he went out the front door to meet her.
“Hi.” He suddenly felt shy of her. After their lunch the day before, he didn’t know why. They’d talked about spiritual things, his family, her parents, even their businesses. Why would he suddenly feel shy of her now? Maybe because in just a few short days he’d shared more with her than he’d shared with anyone else in his adult life. Something about her invited truthful confidence.
“Hello.” Her voice was low. She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and her hand trailed her jawline at the end of the motion. She was lovely. Inside and out.
“How did you become such a lovely person after all you faced as a child?” he asked in a soft tone. He was becoming mesmerized by her.
“What a sweet thing to say.” She met his gaze and held it for a moment before turning to point at the pew. “I hope you don’t mind sitting so far from the action. It looks like everyone else has a front row seat at the shore.” She pointed to the growing crowd at Pirate’s Pier.
“I’d rather be here. I’m not much for the thick of a crowd.” He set the picnic basket in the middle of the bench. “Unless it’s a crowd of customers like I’ve had in the store this weekend.”
Switching the topic to business seemed to settle them both. Mallory sat on the end of the bench, facing the pier. “I know! It’s been wonderful to have such a great opening.” She handed him a large tumbler of iced tea. “I’ve got more in the fridge if we run out. I wanted it to stay cold.”
He opened the basket and handed her a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. “I hope you like honey baked ham and provolone.”
“It’s only my favorite.” She began to peel open the wrapping. “Did you bake the roll?” Her delicate fingers tested the softness of the fresh bread.
“I did. No self-respecting chef would do less.” He grinned. “Did you brew the tea?”
“I did not. Agnes made it for me. No woman on a date with a chef would dare to compete with his skills.” She looked up at him, as if realizing what she’d said. Her eyes grew wide. “I didn’t mean a date. I was just…”
“Just trying to remind me that you don’t cook? Or know how to use a toaster?” He found himself smiling. Again. Talking with Mallory, teasing with her, was easy. Easier than with anyone he knew.
“Exactly.” She bowed her head, and he watched her lips move in a silent prayer. He was still looking at her when she opened her eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “Nothing at all.”
She took a bite and made a show of pointing at the sandwich. “What is on this?”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing!”
“It’s my own version of mustard. I worked for ages to get the exact blend to work with the honey glaze I use on the ham while it’s baking.” He was pleased that she liked it. He had won the favor of the chefs who had taught him in school, but for people in his everyday world to enjoy his cooking skills was important. His favorite chef had told him that passing the classes would teach him to cook, but pleasing the people who ate his food once he graduated would be a reward that would keep giving. It would motivate him to keep improving himself. The appreciation on Mallory’s face was proof of that. He didn’t think any grade he’d ever received on an assignment matched her enthusiastic enjoyment of what was, to him, a simple sandwich.
“I can’t wait to see what else is in that basket.” She took another bite of her sandwich and shifted on the pew. “The sunset is going to rival the fireworks tonight.” She pointed beyond him, and he turned to take in the pinks and purples that blended together into the horizon.
After the sandwiches were gone, he pulled out two bowls of fruit salad. He passed her a bowl and a fork.
“This is yummy, too.”
He chuckled. “Yummy? You sound like a child with a fresh cut watermelon.”
“And what would be more complimentary than a child’s delight at a treat?” She speared a blueberry and popped it into her mouth.
“You are right.” He dipped his head. “Thank you for the high praise.”
They finished the salad, and she went to refill their tumblers. When she came back onto the sidewalk, he had leaned against a post to watch the crowd settle in as the growing darkness descended. She gave him his tea.
“Thank you.” He pointed at the sky. “It’s a perfect night for fireworks. No moon in sight.”
She stood beside him. “I have always loved fireworks from as far back as I can remember. All the colors. Even the exploding booms as the rockets shoot up to the sky.”
“Most kids are scared by that.”
“I can’t explain it, except to say that, after the first one I heard, I saw the burst of color grow in the sky. I realized the sound might be startling, but the result was worth it. It’s like life really. Sometimes the things that could bother you have to come before you can have the things you want.”
She’d taken a step closer to the pier, so she was beside him and a little in front of him. He could still see her profile. The first low-pitched boom sounded, and they watched the tiny trail of light before an explosion of red, white, and blue filled the night sky. The light of it lit the wonder on her face.
He couldn’t look away from her. She embodied everything he wanted but didn’t have. She was content. Truly content. And she’d had nothing to make her that way. No security. No parents rooting for her to win in life. No one to go home to that wanted her forever.
How had she been able to survive her childhood alone and become such an amazing person?
A particularly loud boom caused her to jump. He reached out and put his arm around her shoulders as she pressed her hand to her chest and giggled. “This one will be my favorite. I know it will.”
He leaned close to her ear and inhaled the flowery scent of her shampoo. “How do you know before you’ve seen it?”
“Because it will be the biggest surprise.”
White sparkles fanned out from the center of the initial explosion in glittering trails that crackled like an enormous sparkler, hissing and spewing, and bursting into more white trails like tiny stars.
“See!” Her excitement continued. “I told you.” She put her hand over his where it rested on her shoulder.
; “You were right. I’ll have to remember to trust your instincts.” He crooked his elbow just a bit to draw her closer.
This woman was filling his heart and life with wonder. He wasn’t sure how he’d resisted his attraction to her before he’d gone away to school. Every time she’d come into the candy store, he’d insisted his mother let him serve her. Then he wouldn’t look at her or talk to her above what was necessary to fill her order. After a while, his mom would just step back whenever Mallory came in. But he’d never taken a step to build a friendship with her.
His parents’ unhappiness had destroyed any hope he’d had of having a healthy relationship in his life. Watching the constant fighting and bickering eroded away his faith – in people, and to a degree, in God.
Since their divorce, he’d come to realize that their relationship had been doomed from the start. When his father had walked away from God to pursue his treasure hunt, his mother had begged him to stay. His dad had insisted that she’d never supported his dreams, and he wouldn’t be stifled any longer.
His mother had healed in time. But his father’s bitterness had grown. Now, years later, she was happy in a new marriage, and his father only worked odd jobs to earn enough money to wander the beach in search of a treasure no one had seen in almost three hundred years.
Had his parents started off like he was beginning to feel about Mallory? Drawn to her in spite of their differences. Fascinated by her faith and determination.
He turned again to take in the scent of her under his chin, not sure she was aware of how close they stood to one another.
The grand finale came a few minutes later. Treasure Harbor had done right by the merchants this year. The display was amazing. No tourist would be able to criticize the beauty of the event hosted by the town. He hoped it would bring repeat business to everyone in the area.
Mallory released his hand and took a step away from him to clap when the last of the color faded from the sky. They could hear the cheers and applause from the pier.
She turned to the pew and started to pack the remnants of their picnic into the basket. “That was fun.” Her voice wavered a bit.
“I don’t remember the last time I watched fireworks. I must have been a young teen. Mom wanted to watch every year, but after the store closed, I wanted to hang out with friends at the pier or on the beach. We were too busy horsing around to watch.” He picked up the last salad bowl and tossed it into the basket.
“See what you missed?” she teased.
He nodded when she looked up. “Yes, I have definitely been missing out.” The air stilled between them. The darkness was alleviated by the street lamps now. She cleared her throat. He reached for the handles on the basket at the same time she did and closed his hand around hers.
He didn't see the two teenaged boys on skateboards who came rolling up behind him. “Look out!” one of them yelled.
Mallory grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way as the two sped along the sidewalk. She laughed when he stumbled into her and helped him regain his balance before releasing his arm.
She pointed over her shoulder. “We are about to be in the middle of a stampede of people trying to find their cars.”
He turned to see the dispersing crowd headed their way. “You’re right.”
“Why don’t we go into my shop? We can sit on the settee I haven’t been able to sell, and you can tell me all you know about the treasure.” She opened her door and stepped inside.
Vic lifted the basket. “Let me put this away and lock my door. I’ll be right there.”
In his shop, he reached into the display case and picked out a small assortment of candies. He was curious to see her reaction to his new flavors. It just might keep him from wondering about his own reaction to her.
Chapter Six
Mallory was sitting on the settee with a pad and pencil when Victor knocked on her door. She waved him in and patted the seat beside her. Would he think her forward? She hoped not, but she’d rather sit here in the store with him than ask him up to her apartment.
She hadn’t known how to react when he’d put his arm around her earlier, so she hadn’t. And suddenly the strangeness of having him so near was comforting. Reassuring. And pleasant.
He lifted a Swashbucklin' Sweets bag in front of her and shook it to show it was filled with treats.
“Oh, no. I thought the salad was our dessert.” She reached for the bag, and he pulled it back.
“I think we should play a game.”
“Not with candy.”
“Yes, with candy.” He smiled a smug smile. “We will take turns pulling something out of the bag and tasting it.”
“That’s not fair. You know all the shapes and flavors.”
He laughed then. “You can’t be far behind my knowledge. I should invite you into the kitchen and teach you how to make them.”
“Talk to Agnes. She’ll let you know what a bad idea that is.” She joined in his laughter.
“Ladies first.” He held the bag high above her head so she couldn’t peek when she pulled out a piece of candy.
Not wanting to ruin his fun, she took the first piece without trying to discover its form. It was something she’d never seen in the store before. “This is new.”
He nodded without speaking.
“Can I have a hint?”
He shook his head.
“What will you say if I don’t like it?”
“I’ll declare your taste buds have been destroyed by the fast food you eat instead of learning to cook.”
Mallory took a small bite of the milk chocolate sand dollar. Gooey caramel oozed from the thin wafer and dripped onto her lip. She drew it in and covered her mouth with her hand so she could lick the sweetness with her tongue. She bobbed her head up and down. She kept her mouth covered but couldn’t wait to express her approval. “This is marvelous!” She took another bite. “Your turn. Grab the first piece you touch.”
He closed his eyes and drew out a piece so quickly that she knew he hadn’t cheated. He held out his hand to reveal her favorite starfish shaped chocolate. He popped the whole piece into his mouth. “This is my favorite.”
She hopped to her feet. “Want a diet drink? I love the burn of a diet cola when I’m eating chocolate.”
“Do you have any coffee? I can go next door for some, if you’d like.”
“I’m not a coffee drinker. You go while I get mine.”
They met back in a matter of a couple of minutes. Victor insisted she try one more time. She pulled out a candy cube. “This is another new one, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I want you to tell me what you think of it.”
She eyed him warily. “What’s inside?”
“Close your eyes and take a bite.”
“No!” She laughed.
“Yes. Do it. You’ll be surprised at how the flavors intensify if you’re concentrating on them and nothing else.”
Eyes closed, she nibbled at the corner. The flavors were amazing. Her eyes flew open. “Raspberry!”
“And…”
“It’s wonderful. Even Mrs. Griswold would approve.”
“I took that as a personal challenge.” She finished the candy and begged for the end of the game. “I can’t eat another bite.”
“Okay.” He picked up the bag only to have her grab it at the same time.
“I can eat it tomorrow.” She pulled in a playful tug of war until he let her win. She put the bag on the table behind her and picked up her pad and pencil.
“Okay. Tell me everything you know about the treasure.”
He took a drink from his silver insulated coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you think the legend is true?”
Victor shrugged. “It was so long ago. I don’t know how to separate what probably started out as truth from what has been added over the years. My grandfather many times over was brother to Drake Burton. Every Burton man since him has been said to be a romantic, holding out until he found the wom
an who would love him to her death. Even if it meant fighting every convention or family heritage to have her.”
“That does sound romantic. So was she really the daughter of the town founders, and were they really married in secret?”
“In the very church we went to yesterday morning.”
She couldn’t believe it. He really thought the story of his ancestor’s elopement was real, but he refused to hunt for the treasure. “And she took the treasure from her family as a dowry and gave it to him?”
“My dad is convinced that’s what happened. My cousin, Ryan, has the diaries from his line of the family that support that part of the story.”
“And no one knows where he hid it before he died?”
“No. But how do we know he didn’t take it with him? It could be hidden where no one will ever find it. My dad has searched all over the coast.” He pulled a hand drawn map from his back pocket. “This is a copy of the map he keeps. He used to leave a copy with my mom so she’d know where to look for him if he didn’t come home. At first,” he traced the markings that showed the places his father had searched, “I thought it was fun. I’d tag along. We’d bring a picnic lunch and a metal detector.”
“So you have searched for it.”
“Yes. As a boy. After weeks and months, and eventually years of Saturdays and summers poking through the dunes and wading through sea grass, it just got old. That’s probably why I don’t spend as much time at the beach as most of the Treasure Harbor residents. It holds memories of false hope and disappointment.”
“Did your dad ever find anything?”
“The odd piece of lost jewelry from a tourist, or a bottle cap or coin. Never any sign of a treasure. It wore my mother down to run the store while he played detective.”
“They say the reward could be a lot of money. Wouldn’t you like to have a portion of it?”
“Not at the expense of what’s left of my family’s reputation. If they find it, and it’s somewhere that my distant uncle buried it, our family will be open to public ridicule. We won’t just be rumored to descend from pirates, people will see the proof. I can’t imagine bringing that shame on my family back into the limelight for the sake of a few dollars.”