Vicki Hinze - [Seascape 01]

by Vicki Hinze

  Oh, Maggie. His sadness etched his features and he shook his head. Look inward for your answers and stop this. You can’t lie to me, or to yourself—not here, and not anymore ever again anywhere. Don’t you see that you’ve changed? Don’t you see that in not lifting the veil, you have done to Tyler exactly that which you most didn’t want to do? Like Carolyn, you’ve robbed him of worth, Maggie. He gave you all he had to give.

  She opened her mouth but, as she did, Tony slowly faded until all she could see in the mirror was a reflection of the wall.

  Isolated and cold, Maggie shivered and huddled under the covers. But even they could warm no more than her body. Her heart felt encased in a block of ice. Why hadn’t she told MacGregor the truth? Why hadn’t she trusted him? He was nothing like her father—or any other man—and he’d done nothing, given her no reason not to trust him. He wasn’t volatile. He didn’t belittle others. And he had as much reason, if not more, to not trust her—to stay away from her—and yet he hadn’t. He’d given her his trust. He’d given her... everything.

  Lose him in lies, or with dignity.

  Her conscience. Yes. And it was right. It was—oh, God. Faith. Faith!

  She tossed back the covers, grabbed her robe, her insides shaking so hard she expected to hear them rattle. She slid into her shoes, half-running, half-stumbling to the door, then through the landing to the stairs. Where had he gone? To his room? The Carriage House? The only way she’d get to wherever MacGregor had gone was on a wing and a prayer.

  He’s on the cliffs.

  The cliffs. He’d gone to the cliffs. Thanks, Tony.

  She took the stairs two at a time, ran through the gallery, catching a single tick from the grandfather clock, then on through the kitchen and finally exited through the mud room door. She rushed on outside—and into a wall of thick fog.

  She made her way around the house on memory more than sight, then crossed the lawn, unable to see more than a foot in front her. Tony, help me find him. Please!

  Feeling a hand slide into hers, she looked to her side and saw Tony. Aged and ageless, his uniform buttons shining, though there was no light to make them shine, his smile also twinkling in his eyes. This way.

  They crossed the craggy rocks and up on the cliff. Tony paused. He’s right there, Maggie. Two o’clock.

  She smiled. Thank you, Tony. For everything.

  My pleasure. He nodded, then stepped back and was gone.

  She called out. “MacGregor? MacGregor, where are you?”

  “Maggie?” She heard footsteps then MacGregor stood in front of her, staring down into her eyes. “What are you doing out here? You forgot your coat, Maggie. You’ll get pneumonia.” He started to shrug out of his jacket.

  The surf pounding the rocks echoed in her ears, and mist from the sea spray and fog gathered on her skin. She grabbed MacGregor’s hands, locked them in hers, and nestled them to her chest. “Carolyn was my cousin, MacGregor. I came up here because I thought you might have had something to do with her death. The painting wasn’t in the car at the time everything burned, and the police said no one else had been around then. But someone had to have been, and I thought it was you.”

  The truth hit her like a sledge. Someone else had prevented the painting from being destroyed. Tony!

  She heard him laugh inside her head. Nice touch, eh?

  I’ll deal with you later, Tony Freeport. One man at a time with your attitudes is all I can handle. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Tyler. I only wanted the truth. I’d promised my mother. Carolyn was family, and finding out the truth was my responsibility.”

  “So you went to the gallery to gather information and found out I was here.”

  “Yes, and no. I did go to the gallery looking for information. I ran into Bill there, but I didn’t know you were here until you waylaid me in the hallway upstairs. Once I discovered you were here, though, I thought I might at least learn your side of the story. I know it was wrong—keeping the truth from you—and I’m sorry. From nearly the beginning I had doubts that you were involved, MacGregor. And as I got to know you, I—”

  He whispered softly. “You what, Maggie?”

  She looked up at him. “I knew you couldn’t have been involved, directly or even indirectly.”

  “You knew it in your heart, but your head was a little harder to convince.”

  “Yes.” She dragged her teeth over her lip. “And then I realized I cared for you and that terrified me. I was so afraid of being vulnerable, of needing you and you not needing me.”

  “And?”

  “And then you believed in me and I didn’t want to let you down. I realized that you were nothing like my father. That I didn’t have to fear being vulnerable with you because you wouldn’t abuse my tender feelings and use them against me.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me the truth, Maggie?” He frowned down at her. “I promised to always believe in you.”

  “That’s why I couldn’t tell you—at first. Then you trusted me. And then when I convinced myself to tell you, Tony told me not to do it. I battled myself over that one, and decided to tell you anyway, but then—” Shame and guilt slammed into her heart and tears burned the back of her nose, her eyes.

  “Then?”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I can’t do this.” She caught her breath and held it for a long second. “All that’s true, MacGregor—every word of it. But it’s not the real reason I didn’t tell you. I was afraid you’d hate me. I knew I’d lose you, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

  He paused a long second, then blinked hard three times. “I have a confession to make, too.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “While you were upstairs nursing your headache, your mother called. I talked with her, Maggie.”

  Her knees nearly gave out. “When you came to my room tonight, you already knew the truth.”

  “Yes.” He squeezed her hands as if to prevent her from pulling away from him. “Your mother told me why you’d come to Seascape, and of your suspicions that I was involved with Carolyn’s death. That’s why I went to your room—to give you an opening to tell me the truth so I could reassure you that I wasn’t involved.”

  “The veil,” Maggie whispered. “I finally get it, Tyler.”

  Confusion put a crease between his brows. “What veil? You haven’t mentioned a veil.”

  “I wanted to tell you about Carolyn—I started to twice, but Tony said, ‘Lift not the veil. It’s not yet time.’ “

  MacGregor frowned. “So what does it mean?”

  She looked up at him, her voice softening. “Love can’t be realized without trust. It’s lost beneath a veil of suspicion and doubt and—oh geez, I can’t believe I didn’t realize this—”

  “Realize what, Maggie?”

  “Only faith can lift the veil.” She smiled at him. “It’s faith, MacGregor.”

  “Are you saying that you trust me, Maggie?”

  “Yes.”

  “And does that mean that you no longer suspect I had anything to do with Carolyn’s death?”

  “No, I understand now. Carolyn’s death wasn’t mysterious at all. It was an accident—no less, but no more. She wanted the painting not for herself or for its magic, but to sell it to Carruthers.” Maggie freed her hand and pressed it against MacGregor’s chest. “I think she somehow knew that Seascape’s true magic wasn’t in the painting but in the house itself. That’s why she was meeting Carruthers here. Carolyn had needed to heal. She had reserved the Carriage House suite.”

  “She had?”

  He hadn’t known that. Maggie nodded. “I knew someone had to be at the accident site or the painting would have been destroyed in the fire. I thought it was you, but it wasn’t.”

  “Tony.”

  “Yes, Tony.”

 
Finally at peace with the past, she lifted her face to the fog. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  “You didn’t know me.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  He cupped her face in his hands, his emotions trembling in his voice. “I love you, Maggie.”

  A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “I love you, too, MacGregor. With all my heart.”

  Ah, peace at last.

  MacGregor stiffened. “Tony?”

  “You heard him?” Maggie squeezed MacGregor’s waist.

  He nodded.

  You two really had me worried for a while there. Sorry about the blackouts, Tyler, but I had to keep you here until Maggie arrived. There was a scheduling foul-up that, um... Never mind. I’m just glad you managed to stay put without scrambling your brains on the rocks.

  MacGregor looked through the thinning fog toward Tony’s voice. “How did you do that?”

  Fingers to the shoulder hollow. An old maneuver I picked up in the Army for disabling folks. Works well, eh?

  “Yeah, I’d say so.” MacGregor looked around for Tony but didn’t see him.

  “He kept you here for me.” Maggie grinned. “Thanks, Tony.”

  Actually, I did it for both of you. You were supposed to find each other two years ago, but Maggie’s mother’s accident happened and she needed her. Then you met Carolyn instead and things really got messed up. I filed a complaint with the Boss, by the way. But the damage had been done and you both had to heal before we could give this another go. Anyway, you did the work. I just assisted a little here and there.

  “Thanks for your assistance, Tony.” MacGregor said. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  “You will?” He nodded and Maggie smiled up at him. “Then I’ll take good care of you, too, MacGregor. I’ll use your razor regularly, to spare you from slitting your throat. And—”

  “If you say you’ll hog all the hot water, Maggie, I might just not ask you to marry me. The thought of cold showers for the rest of my days—”

  She squeezed his forearms, her breath locked in her throat. “Did you say marry you?”

  “Don’t you want to marry me?” He frowned.

  “Want to? No. You’ll drive me nuts. But”—she smiled— “I insist you do, because I’d rather be nuts with you than without you.” Recalling the bulletin board at the Blue Moon Cafe, Maggie twisted the smile from her lips. “Can we stay here another week?”

  “I was thinking until Christmas—a Christmas wedding in the church. We both said if we ever married, it’d be in that church. How does that sound?”

  Miss Millie and Jimmy Goodson had both chosen December 25th—those were the dates beside Maggie and MacGregor’s names. They’d been betting on a wedding!

  “What time?” Maggie asked. They’d both chosen two o’clock.

  “How about two?”

  “Two sounds perfect.” Maggie smiled, her heart full, and watched the last of the fog roll off shore and into the Atlantic. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. “MacGregor?”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Mmm?”

  “I think you’re redeemed.” She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “Ready for that bath?”

  “Definitely. “

  Maggie hugged him, knowing that this time when they made love it would be right.

  Chapter 17

  “Maggie?” Miss Hattie bustled around, adjusting the flowers in Maggie’s bridal bouquet. “Where’s the yellow carnation? Oh my, it must have fallen out.”

  “No, it didn’t. It was for Tony. I took it over to the cemetery on my way over here. A little thank you for his help.”

  Miss Hattie smiled. “That was very thoughtful of you, dear. I’m sure it meant a lot to him.”

  Maggie darted her gaze around the bridal chamber, her nerves threatening to unravel. Leslie Butler, her matron of honor, came up to her clucking her tongue to the roof of her mouth and adjusted the flowing white veil trailing down Maggie’s back. “You look beautiful, Maggie. T.J. isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie smiled, hoping MacGregor was every bit as nervous as she was—not that there was any doubt in her mind that she wanted to marry him. She’d just prefer to do it without tripping and falling flat on her face in a church full of the villagers and her mother, who’d flown up three days ago to attend the ceremony.

  “This is a little something special for you, Maggie.” Leslie handed her a small box. “I bought it with the profits from that first auction.”

  Maggie’s heart, already full, felt sure to burst. “Oh, Leslie.”

  “I had to do it.” Leslie smiled. “If you hadn’t said what you did to me that night at the Blue Moon about owing it to myself to try, I’d never have had the courage to attempt the auction. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me.”

  “I didn’t do it. You did. I just”—Tony’s words flashed through her mind—“assisted.”

  “Well, I appreciate your assistance.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Oh, move over and let me in, Hattie. Beaulah’s sitting in the front pew bending the sheriff’s ear. It’s me, Millie.”

  Miss Millie skirted around Miss Hattie and stopped in front of Maggie.

  “Lovely,” Miss Hattie said. “Absolutely lovely. Isn’t she lovely, Millie?”

  “She’s lacking,” Miss Millie said, then nodded to show she meant it. “She needs this.” She held up an antique lace sachet. White tulle and lace.

  “It’s your favorite fragrance, too, dear. Seashore.”

  Maggie smiled. “Oh, Miss Millie. I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “I said I’d make you another on your wedding day, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.” All the wonderful friends she’d made here. The love she’d found. MacGregor. Would life ever again be this good?

  Of course it will, Maggie. And I echo my darling Hattie’s sentiments. You do look lovely.

  Tony. She looked behind Miss Hattie and saw him standing there, the yellow carnation tucked into his green suit jacket’s lapel. But no one else seemed to see him. Not even Miss Hattie.

  I can’t let her see me. It would hurt her too much. But don’t worry about us. One day, Hattie and I will be together again. Today is your day. You and Tyler are going to be very happy together, Maggie. Trust me. You’re blessed with that rare love.

  I trust you, Tony. With all my heart. And don’t you dare laugh at me, but this trusting is getting easier all the time. She smiled, almost afraid Miss Hattie with her too-seeing eyes would sense the conversation, and Maggie wanted everyone happy today.

  Tony smiled and winked.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Miss Hattie,” Jimmy Goodson called out. “It’s two o’clock straight up and down, and Pastor says they’re waiting on Maggie. Tyler ain’t looking too patient, either. Says she’s got ten seconds to get up there or he’s coming after her.”

  Miss Hattie clasped both of Maggie’s hands in hers, crushing her hankie between their palms. “I’m trusting you to love Tyler well, Maggie. I’ve grown more than fond of the boy.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will.” Maggie had heard the catch in Miss Hattie’s voice and it nearly undid her. “We’re both fond of you, too, Miss Hattie. How can we ever thank you for everything?”

  “You just did, child. And you can keep on thanking me by being happy and loving each other.” The wonderful woman nodded. “Now,” she cleared the rasp from her throat, “we’d best hurry, mmm? I do believe that today we’re starting a new era. I just love new eras. Don’t you love new eras, Millie?”

  “I love antiques. And Christmas weddings. Especially ones Beaulah Favish and Lily Johnson are at solely as guests. Can’t abide them being nosy and strutting their snooty
ways.”

  Some things never changed. Maggie smiled to herself and moved toward the door, her long white gown rustling. “A new era?”

  “Why, yes, dear.” Miss Hattie gave Maggie an angel’s smile. “One where Tyler believes in miracles... and so do you.”

  Maggie gave her a watery smile. “Yes, a new era.”

  Since Maggie had her mother on her side of the tiny church and Tyler had no kin, Hattie sat beside Vic on the groom’s side of the center aisle. She looked up at the rugged cross Collin Freeport had hand-carved decades ago. Seeing it bathed in sunlight from the stained glass window had her feeling a little melancholy. It was Christmas, and that had her feeling a little melancholy, too. Had Tony lived, they would be celebrating Maggie and Tyler’s marriage today, and their own golden wedding anniversary.

  But he hadn’t lived. And they hadn’t shared a lifetime of love and memories together. She fingered her hankie. How joyful and loving their lives would have been.

  Standing beside his best man, Bill Butler, Tyler winked at Miss Hattie then turned to watch his bride come up the aisle and join him. Such love burned in his eyes. They would have that joy, that lifetime of memories and love that Hattie had not. There was solace in that.

  Maggie lifted her hand and placed it in Tyler’s. The pastor began the ceremony, “Dearly beloved...”

  Hattie let her thoughts steal away, dreaming a little herself. If only she could see Tony. Just once...

  No. Once would never be enough. Seeing him and not being able to hold him—it would be torture for both of them. One day they’d be together again. Until then, she had to take comfort in putting yellow flowers on his grave to remind him how much she loved him still, in just knowing he was near.

  He was near, wasn’t he?

  Tender, doubtful because she couldn’t feel his presence, she let her hankie flutter to the floor.

  It lay there for only a moment, then an unseen hand lifted it and placed it back in her upturned palm. Soft as an angel’s breath, tender lips pressed a kiss to the back of her wrist. And inside the hankie’s folds lay a single, yellow carnation petal.