“How are Rachel and Dirk?” Julia asked.
“Great,” Emily said, beaming. “They’re pregnant!”
“Uh-oh. Last I heard, Rachel was just getting her at-home business off the ground. Was this a planned baby?”
“She’s thrilled,” Emily said.
“She’s just going to scale back the workload,” Jake said, passing the salad.
The four ate, happily talking, laughing, and joking over their dinner. Finally, stiff after more than an hour in her seat, Julia suggested they move to the living room. Before they left the room, she dramatically opened the china cabinet to expose the secret passage. Then she showed them how the bookcase in the library moved in the same manner.
“Unbelievable,” Jake said. “They must have had some architect for it to work after all these years. You guys get all the fun—I wish I had been here to explore that passage when you first discovered it.”
“Well, I saved something else for you, little brother. I haven’t been in the attic yet—and Trevor’s only been up there to check the roof and insulation. Remember how we used to play up there as kids?”
“Barely.”
“Well, if it has half the treasures we found in the passageway, it will be wonderful.”
“Treasures?” Jake asked.
Excitedly Julia told Jake and Emily about Anna’s journals, and she updated them on her findings.
“How about reading us some?” Jake asked.
“That would be great,” Trevor agreed.
“You three get settled,” Emily said, “and I’ll bring in the dessert.”
“Let’s go,” Julia said. They carried their plates into the kitchen, then they moved into the living room.
The evening was such a success, the four repeated it several times over the next few nights. Together, through hours of reading, they followed Anna and Shane as they tried to convince wealthy shipbuilders to give Shane’s best design a chance. Finally, five years after arriving in New York and three children later, Shane finally got his opportunity.
20 March 1845
Shane’s time has come! And not a moment too soon. If I have to live out another year in this tiny apartment with these children, I am liable to tear my hair out. Our investor is one Charles Hammond, a wealthy gentleman with a love for the sea and a penchant for risk. A friend told me about him, and I must admit, I went to see him while Shane was still at sea. There comes a time when a woman must do what she must to assist her husband at getting ahead.
In my best dress, I went to call upon Mister Hammond a month prior to my Shane’s return and, using the best of my feminine wiles and most of my wits as well, convinced him that it would behoove him to hear Shane out, at the very least.
I told him of Shane’s ideas to create prows that will slice through the water with little resistance. “It is the first cargo into port that draws the highest prices, is it not?” I asked him.
When Shane returned, I casually told him that I heard a Mister Hammond was interested in the shipbuilding process. He was out the door with his models and drawings the very next day. He returned with a cheque, his head in the clouds, and directions to a shipyard in Boston. I shall have my house yet.
“So this is really the house that Anna built,” Jake said.
“If she had eyes like her great-great-granddaughter,” Trevor said, looking directly at Julia, “Anna’s ‘feminine wiles’ left Hammond with no choice.”
“Leave it to women to get things done,” Julia said, ignoring his compliment as she resumed her reading.
8 June 1845
They are raising her! Huge trees are transformed before us into a version of the hundreds of models my Shane built, only a thousand times larger. The children play amongst the keel and scarfed ribs of the tall ship as if it were a common playground, not the culmination of their father’s dreams. Young Shane traveled with his father to hunt for the perfect trees to form the stem and stern of this huge vessel. I am so proud of my husband! He stands and looks at her with love and compassion resembling that with which he gazes at me.
14 August 1845
It amazes me to watch the process. What once resembled a huge rib cage, now has received what they call the “skin”—the interior boards are called the “ceiling,” and the exterior boards the “planking.” Yesterday, caulkers began the tedious work of pounding in oakum using heavy mallets they call “beetles” and a wedge-shaped caulking iron. The oakum is a disgusting ropy material bathed in tar, which creates a sticky tangle of hair, perfect for keeping water from leaking through cracks. After applying hot pitch today, the caulkers told young Shane he could assist them in scraping off the excess tomorrow. He is so excited he can barely sleep.
10 September 1845
I have begged Shane, but he pays me no heed. There is no stopping his first voyage, though autumn is easing quickly into winter. Now that the sails have been sewn and the ship built so quickly, Shane cannot wait to launch her. Mister Hammond is no help. He believes the sooner we launch, the sooner he’ll get a return on his investment. I love this little cottage we are renting, but it would be worth precious little if my Shane were to die at sea. Never have I had such a foreboding feeling about a trip. I cannot sleep! I can only pray that Jesus Christ will be with him through every foot of water. The thought is my only comfort.
Julia paused. “Should we call it a night?”
“I can’t sleep leaving Anna like that!” Emily said.
“Read a few more entries,” Trevor demanded.
20 September 1845
I overheard two gentlemen laying bets on the courier. One insisted she will tip over as soon as she sits in the water. The other believes she’ll make her runs to Rio de Janeiro faster than other ships and make huge profits in the coffee trade. The courier does not hold as much as the traditional wide-bodied tall ships, but the second gentleman is correct: She will be fast. I believe in my Shane’s designs.
It is my position to christen the courier tomorrow before the launching. I would enjoy this honor much more if it were May and not September. I have such a heavy heart! How can I let him go? He’s been on countless voyages, but never have I felt so desperate. Even my new gown from Paris fails to cheer me.
21 September 1845
He is off. After a champagne bottle shattered against her bow and a quick kiss for me from my Shane, the courier effortlessly slipped into the water. She did not tip over, and when all sixteen sails were hoisted and she moved off in all her splendor, I gave that betting gentleman a very good look indeed. He seemed startled, as if I could read his mind, and moved off in a rush. As concerned as I am for Shane, I could not help but get carried away in the rush of excitement at seeing our dreams sail. The courier is a grand ship. I pray to God that He will surround Shane with angels and bring my love safely home.
“This feels like a good place to stop,” Julia ventured.
Jake groaned from his position on the floor, where he had lain for an hour, totally relaxed. “I could listen all night! Can you imagine going back in time to meet Anna and Shane?”
“I feel like I have,” Julia said.
“I can’t believe Shane could leave Anna and his family for all that time,” Trevor said quietly.
Julia picked up on his line of thought. “He had to do what he had to do. It was his dream—his livelihood.”
“He could’ve found other dreams. If I was as in love as those two were, no dream could tear me away for months on end.” He stared into Julia’s eyes.
Julia broke from his gaze. “Well, I’d better turn in. You two ‘guests’ ready to pitch in tomorrow? If I remember right, company isn’t allowed to lounge more than a few days at Timberline. Same goes for Torchlight.”
“Sure,” Emily said.
“I’d love it. Can we work above decks tomorrow?”
“You bet,” Trevor said. “The air vents in the basement are taking longer than we thought they would. Let’s take a break from it and work on something else.”
“Good. I like you, buddy, but I’m sick of being in the dark cellar with you. That place gives me the willies.”
“How are you at scraping old paint and wallpaper?”
“It was one of my postgraduate work specialties.”
“Excellent. I think we can find enough work to fill our days for weeks.”
“Maybe tomorrow we should explore the attic,” Julia suggested.
“I think we’ve waited long enough,” Jake agreed. “Let’s do it.”
The four bid each other good night and headed off to bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Come on, Tara. You’re not going with us?”
“I’m sorry, Mike. I have to work on my cookbook. I’m afraid I won’t be free for any trips for a good month or two.” She looked above his head and met Ben’s sad gaze. Say something. Tell me you’ll miss having me along. Maybe I’ll change my mind.
“The cookbook again, huh?” Ben said irritably. “When’s it going to be finished?”
He’s acting like a spoiled child denied dessert! “I’m about halfway there. But it’s slowed down. I did the easy ones first. Do you want to see what I’ve done?”
“Nah. I can wait until you’re finished.”
Tara nodded, fighting to keep any hurt from her expression.
“I’d like to see what you’ve done, Tara,” Mike said, looking from his father to her in exasperation.
“Maybe later,” Ben interceded. “We have some fishing to do. It will be good to be just us. Two guys playing around.” He put a strong hand on Mike’s shoulder and directed him toward the door, then looked back at Tara. “Couple of months, huh? It will take that long to do?”
This time her frustration reached her tone. “It’s a big project, Ben,” she said. You big oaf. If you cared a whit about me, you’d want to see it. Or is it that threatening to you?
“Oh yeah. Well, maybe you’ll finish faster than you think,” Ben said simply. He put his arm around Mike again and led him away from the restaurant. Tara stood and watched them until they disappeared around the corner.
“Attic day!” Julia said, grinning when Jake and Emily finally came into the kitchen.
“Caffeine first,” Jake muttered, still trying to adjust to the two-hour time difference.
Julia brought a fresh coffeecake from the oven and sliced them each a generous portion while Trevor poured the dark, steaming brew into big, blue mugs.
“I’ve been wanting to get up there for weeks to check out all the things I saw, but Julia wouldn’t let me near it until you arrived,” Trevor said.
“I wanted to share this with my baby brother,” Julia said, pretending to be defensive.
“I’m glad you did! As soon as this caffeine hits my body, I’ll be ready to explore,” Jake said.
“Well, hurry up!” Julia said, filling her mouth with coffeecake.
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.”
By nine o’clock the four of them were up in the bedroom that had provided the original secret entrance to the passageway. In the opposite corner from the passage, the entrance to the attic was cut from a portion of the wood ceiling.
Trevor set his ladder and began to climb. Jake’s voice stopped him. “Trevor, would you mind if I went up first?”
Trevor quickly descended. “Not at all. Sorry. I should’ve thought of it myself.”
Jake climbed the ladder and shoved upward on the door. It gave way easily, and he climbed a few more steps to peer inward.
“What do you see?” Julia called.
“Not much. Hand me that lamp.”
She handed him the battery-powered camp lantern.
He disappeared into the attic. “You guys gotta see this,” they heard him call. “Come up!”
Julia followed, then Emily, then Trevor. They all stood on the old flooring, stunned as they looked around.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Jake asked quietly.
“I knew it would be,” Julia said.
Trevor moved toward an ancient, grimy window on their right. “Be careful where you walk,” he warned, looking at the wide-board pine beneath him. “A lot of this looks rotten.”
He took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped the dirt of a hundred years from the glass, allowing more daylight to shine through.
Over the decades, spiders had filled the room with intricate webs. The light shining through caught each strand, and the group looked at them for several long moments before Jake made the move to start cutting them down.
Once he had cleared a pathway well into the enormous attic, everyone began to explore.
Broken furniture was strewn everywhere, packed away by former occupants who had lacked the right handyman to fix them. Gnawing mice had done quite a bit of damage to the exposed pieces, but many of the buried ones were completely intact.
Emily found the first real treasure. “Julia, come here!”
Julia went over to her sister-in-law. Emily pulled several perfectly preserved straw bonnets from a wooden trunk and set one on her head. “Look, they’re all clean and dry!” She looked like a turn-of-the-twentieth-century china doll.
Julia selected a hat decorated with a fabric rose and intricate ribbons and placed it on her head. “Wouldn’t these be wonderful hanging on a wall downstairs? What a collection!”
“Check this out! Only six planets!” Jake called. He held in his hand a nineteenth-century orrery, a pre-Neptune model of the solar system. The planets hung suspended on separate wires that were attached to the central sun, enabling each one to swing around in its approximate orbit with a squeaky push from Jake.
Trevor discovered an old United States flag, badly eaten away, with only thirteen stars on its blue field.
In a corner, Julia found suitcase after suitcase full of old letters and postcards from friends and family who had traveled around the world. Trevor joined her in her examination, fascinated by what people had seen more than a hundred years before he had visited the same locations. “There’s a year’s worth of evening reading here after we finish Anna’s journals,” Trevor said, smiling over at Julia. “Think of the pieces of the puzzle in here!”
“It’s wonderful!”
They spent all morning opening boxes, exclaiming excitedly over old navigation maps, antique sextants, crates full of Shane’s hand-carved ship models, family pictures yellowed with age, and countless other finds.
Julia was the first to speak up about her hunger. “Hey, you guys, I’m starving. What do you say we break for lunch?”
The others reluctantly agreed, deciding to bring a few boxes down to look at more closely in the light of day.
As they munched on sandwiches in the kitchen, Julia was struck with an idea. “Say, Trevor … what if we renovated the attic, making it a private floor for my use? It would give me a place to escape to when the inn is full. We could make it into a sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom.” As she envisioned it in her mind, her face was alight.
“Uh-oh. Suddenly I see my job description expanding—”
“No! Think of it! That high-pitched roof would make a really dramatic room. We could install long, side-by-side skylights to let in the sun. The basement is more than adequate for storage space. That way, we could make the existing master bedroom a honeymoon suite.”
“It could be pretty nice,” he nodded.
“Let’s give it some thought.”
“You might want to look at your finances,” he said. “Maybe wait until next year to refurbish the attic—it’s a disaster. Did you see those walls? Hog-hair-reinforced plaster. It’s crumbling all over the place despite their inventiveness. And the flooring … like I said, it needs to be totally redone. Not to mention the insulation—”
“Oh, come on, Trevor. Are you saying you’re overwhelmed?”
“No. But if you get married, we’ll need to get the main house in some sort of shape in time. After that, it’ll be up to you and your new hired man.”
He let the words drop carefully. Wasn’t she putting him throu
gh his own torment with her indecision over Miles? Two could play at that game.
Julia frowned and glanced over at Jake and Emily, then back to him. “New hired man?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not going to stick around forever.”
His casual tone obviously angered her. “I thought as much. Can’t pin down the wanderer, huh? Where are your dreams ‘calling’ you now?”
Jake and Emily moved to leave, uncomfortable with the conversation and where it was heading. “Let’s go for a walk,” Julia said, following after them. “The current hired man has work to do. You guys are on vacation.”
Ben had tried to accept the fact that Tara needed time for her project. But when she wasn’t at work on Tuesday night, he felt inexplicably cross.
“Come on, Dad. My show’s on in fifteen minutes.” They had finished their dinner ten minutes earlier, but Ben still sat across from his son in the restaurant booth, silently nursing his Coke.
“We’ll go when I’m good ’n’ ready,” Ben growled.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t understand how Tara can just leave the restaurant like this. Doesn’t she understand that it’s not the same without her?”
“I thought dinner was as good as usual.”
“Not me. It’s missing something.”
“You miss Tara.”
Ben scowled at his son. “Let’s go, smart aleck.”
Ben paced in front of Tara’s house that night, wanting to go up and knock at her door but unable to bring himself to do it. He wanted to see her—not just through the window, but up close—but the thought of needing to see her frightened him. If I could just say hello, see how she’s doing … He continued pacing.
He saw Tara rise from her easel, stretch, and move to the window to open it. He knew how stuffy that kitchen could get. In doing so, she looked out at him.
“Who’s there?” Tara called out, obviously frightened but trying to sound tough.
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