With bitter sadness, Nick shook his head. “If I were you, I’d feel the same way, and I don’t blame you for not trusting me, Abby. I was the one who screwed up. I was the one who let the best thing in my life slip through my fingers. But then, you’ve always been a better person than me. And I’m hoping that because of that, you will come back with me to Pleasant Mountain. I have to … no, I need to show you something! If you’ll just let me do that, as I said earlier, you’ll never be bothered by me again!”
“Don’t … don’t you do that!” Abby said as she pointed a trembling finger at Nick. “Don’t you dare make me feel guilty so that somehow I’ll go with you!” Tears were now falling freely from her eyes.
“Do you know what my life was like after we broke up?” Abby cried. “My heart was ripped in two! In my wildest, most feverish dreams, I never thought I could be hurt again as badly as Rob had hurt me when we divorced. Yet, not only was it as bad with you, it was worse! It was like reliving a nightmare all over again!”
Collapsing on a nearby couch, Abby buried her face in her hands and sobbed as Nick watched helplessly. Finally, he walked over to the couch and sat down next to her. Wanting to hold her so badly and comfort her that he had to force his arms to stay clasped in his lap, his own heart threatened to break as he listened to her unrestrained weeping.
“It was never you, Abby. It was all me. You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he said in a voice cracking with emotion. “You have no obligations to me, none whatsoever. But despite that, I’m asking, begging, you to please come with me this one last time.”
Nothing more was said as Abby’s sobbing eventually died away. Finally, she turned her tearstained face toward Nick.
“All right, Nick. You win,” she whispered. “I’ll go with you. But understand, after this, I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Standing abruptly, Abby walked unsteadily toward her bedroom and shut the door. Fifteen minutes later, she exited, dressed in blue jeans, sandals, and a simple, white, ribbed blouse. She had brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and with eyes still rimmed red from crying, she had put on a minimum amount of makeup.
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she said coldly, “Let’s go!”
Locking the door behind her, Abby followed Nick to his car. He opened the door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat Nick got in, started the car, and began to make the journey back to Pleasant Mountain.
Once they had exited onto I-30 traveling east to Pleasant Mountain, Nick tried to talk to Abby. He told her that Steve had successfully finished his rehab, had joined a local chapter of AA, and had gotten his old job back at Dock’s Auto Repair. He also told her that Kenneth had managed to talk Mr. Parnell into buying back the Radio Shack store, and now they were partners in running the business. Mr. Parnell kept up with the store’s finances and the inventory, while Kenneth ran the store. Kenneth was happier than he had seen him in months, he assured her.
Finally, he told Abby that Patti was pregnant. She did not need a special procedure or fertility drug, and the pregnancy had come as a complete surprise to Patti, Mark, and even Patti’s doctor. She was due sometime in December, and both Patti and Mark were practically walking on air they were so happy. This elicited a small smile on Abby’s face, the only indication she had heard a word he had said.
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Almost two hours later, Nick turned onto the road that led to his workshop and trailer. Only, instead of the rutted dirt road, a paved black ribbon of asphalt greeted Abby’s eyes. As they turned onto the road and made their way past the clumps of pine trees and sweet gums, Abby suddenly sat up and gasped! There, in front of a neatly trimmed lawn where Nick’s Airstream trailer used to be, was a large, two-story farmhouse! An expansive, elevated porch wrapped around the house. Ceiling fans, spaced at intervals, turned lazily above the porch. Rocking chairs were interspersed along the length of the porch, and a wooden love seat hung suspended from two chains fastened to the porch ceiling. Azaleas, begonias, and impatiens had been planted beside the base of the porch and provided a pleasant contrast of red, pink, and white flowers.
Her mouth still open from surprise, Abby heard her door open as Nick beckoned to her. Enthralled, she stumbled out of the Jeep. Holding her arm, Nick steered her gently toward a set of wide stairs leading up to the porch. A pair of large front doors welcomed them at the top of the stairs, but instead of opening them, Nick led her on the porch to a corner at the back of the house. A decorative wooden railing followed the contours of the porch as they walked. Approximately four feet in height, it had been painted a glossy white. Each of the circular wooden rails was fitted expertly into the flat wooden top of the railing. With sudden inspiration, Abby knew Nick must have built the railing. Stopping, Nick pointed at a lake approximately five acres in diameter some one hundred yards away. Wildwood ducks swam in the muddy water of the partially filled lake, and a wooden pier ran from the shore to a point less than halfway into the lake. The land around the lake had been cleared. A riot of colorful wildflowers was growing. Texas Bluebells, Indian paintbrush, and yellow sage grew in wild profusion. Located nearby was a covered pavilion. Delicate latticework formed the outside walls of the pavilion, and Confederate Jasmine had been planted next to the latticework. Already, the slender vines of the jasmine were growing up the pavilion walls, their small white flowers filling the air with a sweet aroma. A stone bench was set inside the pavilion facing the lake.
Her hands placed beside her mouth in amazement, Abby removed them and managed to say, “How, why …?”
“Someone not so long ago told me this place had possibilities, remember?” Nick said with a wane smile. “C’mon. Let me show you the rest.”
Walking beside Nick in numbed silence, Abby noticed the oversized picture windows that flanked the front doors. As Nick unlocked and opened the door, her curiosity was piqued, and she eagerly stepped into the house.
She gasped for a second time as she saw the home’s interior. A sizable den occupied the first room she saw. A hardwood floor had been polished to a glossy sheen; large throw rugs were placed strategically within the den. A brick fireplace, framed by an antique wooden mantle, was built into the wall to her right. Great pains had been gone to so that the original luster of the antique mantle had been returned to its wood. A long couch, end tables, a round coffee table, and a pair of over-stuffed lounging chairs were tastefully appointed within the den. However, the room was dominated by a magnificent painting mounted on the wall above the fireplace mantle. As Abby moved closer to study it, she saw it was of a sailboat on a lake at night. A couple, dressed in clothes of a bygone era and with their arms affectionately around each other, was on the deck of the sailboat. The scene tugged inexplicably at Abby’s heart, and it was with reluctance that she turned away to continue the tour of the house.
Leading her deeper into the house, Nick showed her the kitchen. Squares of rose-colored porcelain tile covered the floor, while a breakfast nook had been built next to the kitchen along with a large walk-in pantry. Deep wooden cabinets made of oak had been built on either side of the large stainless-steel kitchen sink. A beautiful dining table dominated the formal dining room adjacent to the kitchen. Made of cherry, two drop leaves were located in the middle of the oval table, and the wood had been stained and finished to a warm dusky-brown glow. A cut-glass chandelier, obviously an antique, hung from the ceiling above the dining table.
Exiting the kitchen, Nick led her back to the den, where a set of wide, winding stairs led to the three bedrooms upstairs.
Taking the stair, Nick led Abby up to the second story and into the master bedroom. Thick amber-colored carpet covered the floor, while a king-sized four-poster bed was set against the wall to her immediate left. A delicate canopy was stretched above the bed on the four posters. To her immediate right, Abby saw sunlight streaming through a set of tall French doors, which led to a small balcony. Stepping out onto the balcony, Abby saw that it gave a m
agnificent view of the lake and grounds behind the house. A white wrought-iron table was nestled to her left on the balcony. The tiny table was flanked by two wrought-iron chairs, and Abby could see it would be a perfect place to sit and drink coffee or tea early in the morning and watch the sun rise.
Gently touching Abby’s arm, Nick motioned for her to follow him back into the bedroom. Reluctantly, she turned and followed Nick into what proved to be the bathroom. A marble counter with two inset porcelain sinks ran the length of the bathroom.
A mirror stretched from the marble counter to the ceiling above. Located behind the counter were two sliding doors framed completely in mirrored glass. Sliding the doors open, Abby saw they led to a pair of large walk-in closets. Sliding the doors shut, Abby turned back to the bathroom and spied a beautifully restored antique, claw-foot tub that stood next to a glassed-in shower. The fixtures were all of a soft, golden brass.
“It’s … it’s beautiful!” Abby whispered. “It’s all so beautiful.” Turning to Nick, she asked, “How much of this did you do?”
Grinning ruefully, Nick replied, “I built all of the furniture, the cabinets in the kitchen, the rocking chairs on the porch, and I installed the hardwood floor in the den. The rest I subcontracted out. Oh, and I also built the porch railing and the pavilion.”
“Nick, this is so amazing! You did a wonderful job!”
Shrugging, Nick said, “It’s not so hard when you have a good teacher like Papa Bill … and inspiration.” The last he said while looking directly at Abby. Abby held his gaze for a moment before turning away.
Not wanting Nick to see the conflicting emotions registered on her face, Abby remained with her back to him as she asked softly, “Why … are you showing all this to me, Nick?”
“Let me show you one last thing before I answer that … please,” Nick replied.
Nodding reluctantly, Abby let Nick lead her back down the stairs and out of the house. From there, they walked the short distance to Nick’s workshop. Pushing the sliding doors open, he flipped on the light switch and beckoned her to follow him.
If Abby had been surprised to see the house and what was in it, she was totally unprepared for the sight before her.
When last she had seen the interior of Nick’s workshop, it had been a jumbled mess, filled with tables, chairs, stools, and other furniture all in various stages of completion. The one thing they had had in common was that none of them had been finished! Now, arranged in neat rows were chairs, tables, stools, and bed frames, and all of them were complete! A display area of sorts was set up beside the entrance of the shop, and examples of the furniture Nick built were placed there. In addition, the entire shop was neatly and efficiently arranged. Tools hung in their proper place along one wall, while stacks of pine, oak, and cherry were placed advantageously beside one another, and Abby saw that Nick had even taken advantage of the space beneath the false second-story platform and built a small office there.
As they went deeper into the shop, Abby saw a lone table and two chairs had been placed in an open area roughly toward the middle of the workshop. As they reached the table, Nick bade Abby to take a seat in one of the chairs. Sitting down, Abby spied a tiny wooden jewelry box, obviously an antique, which had been placed in the center of the table. Made of hand carved mahogany, light reflected from its wood in a rich, warm luster. Taking his own seat in the chair next to Abby, Nick cleared his throat.
“All of this—the house, the lake, even what I’ve done with my workshop—I’ve done for you, Abby … for us. You … you were the first person to believe in me, even though I was clueless as to what it was I wanted or needed.”
“Nick, you don’t have to explain anything to me. You … you don’t have to do this,” Abby quickly interjected.
“Yes, you deserve an explanation, Abby, and given the hell I put you through, it’s the least I can do. It’s something I have to do!”
Seeing Abby raising no more objections, Nick continued, “When I discovered The Book of Lost Treasures, I thought my prayers had been answered, that I had finally hit the big time. I was going to be rich! Yet, it was as if each discovery we made using the book came with a price, a price that I discovered too late wasn’t worth the cost it made upon me, my friends, and ultimately … you.”
Standing up, Nick paced beside the table. “Stubbornly, I continued to blame all the problems, Steve’s alcoholism, Kenneth’s bad business sense, the fighting between Mark and Patti, even our breaking up, on bad luck, bad karma—whatever you want to call it. But the night you left me, the night we broke up, it finally dawned on me that the book simply mirrored the priorities of its owner … me! I had let my own selfish desires blind me to what was going on around me. Worse, the things I should have counted as extremely important, I relegated to minor insignificancies. All I could think of was the next big lost treasure and all the money it would bring. In the process, I lost almost everything I hold dear.” Nick’s voice had sunk to a low whisper. “I wanted you back, Abby. Believe me when I tell you I’d trade everything, every penny, if I thought that would bring you back to me. But given how badly I knew I had hurt you, given my well-deserved reputation for screwing things up, for never finishing what I started, and finally, for my almost pathological aversion to commitment, I knew you would probably never believe anything I could tell you. Therefore, I had to show you! So I cashed in all the shares I had left when the Treasure Hunt Club dis- solved and took the money to do something productive for the first time in my life! I drew up the blueprints for the house, had it built, and then finished every stick of furniture I had never got around to completing. I enrolled at the community college, and I will have my associate’s degree by next May. Finally, I took your advice and began trying to sell the furniture I made. It’s amazing! I sold a rocking chair to one of the subcontractors I had hired to build the house. He liked it so much, he ordered two more. He told one of his suppliers, and now this guy wants me to build a kitchen set for him!”
Sitting back at the table, Nick gazed at Abby. The silence between them was thick as Nick let Abby ponder what he had told her so far. Finally, he reached over and took Abby’s hand gently in his own. She did not pull away, and he knew it was time to reveal the final and main reason he had brought her here.
“I love you, Abby, and deep down, I’m desperately hoping and praying that you still love me too. I can’t change what happened, and I can’t change the damage I’ve done. But I swear to you, if you take me back, I’ll dedicate the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”
Tears had sprung into Abby’s eyes. The feelings she thought she had successfully banished concerning Nick came rushing back with such force, they threatened to overwhelm her.
Fighting for every ounce of self-control, Abby tried to quell the raging emotions inside her. She found she desperately wanted to believe Nick; that despite everything, their relationship could still have a happy ending. But even as she realized Nick was right—that she did still love him—that same love reminded her anew of the incredible pain she had struggled to survive.
“I asked you once if I would always be the most important thing in your life, and you promised me I was. You didn’t tell me the truth then. How can I believe you now?” Abby whispered as she sniffed back tears.
“Because I can prove it to you, Abby,” Nick replied softly. He pushed the small jewelry box to her. “Please … open it.”
Hesitantly, Abby picked up the jewelry box and slowly opened the lid. Nestled inside the jewelry box was a wedding ring. It was an unpretentious ring; a simple band of gold topped by a single modest diamond. Finding it hard to breathe, Abby lifted the ring from the box with a hand shaking so badly, she almost dropped it. Wrapped securely around the base of the ring and tied by a white piece of thread was a narrow strip of paper.
“I gave The Book of Lost Treasures back to Hank Harper, but before I did, I made one last request of it. On that small piece of paper is exactly what I wrote.”
Un
tying the thread, Abby removed the paper and spread it out flat. In Nick’s precise handwriting was a single sentence. It read:
Reveal to me the location of my heart’s greatest treasure.
“What appeared was a map leading me straight to apartment number 154—your apartment, Abby.”
Time seemed to stop for Abby as she held the ring in one hand and the thin strip of paper in the other. Warring emotions raged through her in a contest every bit as fierce as that fought by soldiers and armies.
Turning her head, she looked at the ring in her left hand.
Turning right, she looked at the slip of paper in her other hand.
The battle raged, it’s outcome uncertain …
Epilogue
Hank Harper showed his last customer out of the shop. Waving a friendly good-bye, he locked the door and, whistling tunelessly, made his way back to the cash register. Stepping up onto the platform behind the worn wooden counter, he rang the antique register open that rested on top of it and began to carefully count the day’s receipts. As he was in the process of separating the paper money into different denominations, a bright, golden glow suddenly appeared through the cracks of a locked drawer located beneath the counter. Puzzled, Hank pulled a set of keys from his pocket and, choosing the proper key, unlocked and opened the drawer. The Book of Lost Treasures lay at the bottom of the drawer. Even though the book was closed, light emanated from all around its edges. Slowly picking the book up, Hank opened it. There, glowing in an intense golden light, were the words “Treasure Found.”
A broad smile slowly grew across Hank’s face. Sighing in satisfaction, he closed the book, placed it back in the drawer, and locked it. Whistling happily, he returned to counting the day’s receipts.
Coming Next
The Treasure Hunt Club Page 31