by ML Gardner
“I was helping a man get home. A man who had the last eleven months stolen from him and where he was at, they put him through hell. But now he’s free. I want to be free, too. I want to lose a few pounds and get rid of this tie that chokes me. And I think I’m going to grow my hair out, just a bit,” I said, watching for her reaction. It was of surprise as she looked me over, presumably trying to picture it.
“You never know when things are going to change, Maggie. For the better or for the worse. We have to take our chances and run, doll. What if there’s another market crash? What if it’s worse this time and—”
“There isn’t going to be another crash.”
“It may not ever happen. Or, it could be worse next time. We might not ever have this opportunity again. Do we really want to just sit here? Marching along waiting for the next missing person, waiting for the bills to come in, drifting from day to day, unhappy. Waiting for the next miscarriage?”
She stiffened at this. I gave her a loving shake to loosen her up. “What are we doing with our lives, Maggie? All we do is work and wait. But there’s another option. We could just go…live. To hell with the world.”
She was no longer staring at me as if I were a madman. Her eyes were on the pewter bootie charm.
She made no move to take it, so I slipped it in her pocket as she tried to make sense of everything I just said.
“Since when do you believe in good luck charms?”
I shrugged. “Go with me, Maggie. Let’s throw a dart at a map and leave next month. We’ve got enough savings under the mattress and with selling the house and our stuff—”
“Or, better yet, we could rent out the house,” she suggested, suddenly snapping back to life.
“That’s a smart idea, doll.” Whether it was to hang on to the place in case three months from now we realized over a margarita that we were nuts, or so we’d have a bit of income every month, her idea meant she liked mine.
“Let’s go,” I begged in a whisper.
She smiled the first honest smile I had seen in years and something told me that she’d been waiting a long time to hear me say these words.
She pulled me into a tight hug.
“Okay,” she whispered back.
MLG
Read on for a preview of 1931, Book Three, Caleb’s Err
Jonathan poured a cup of coffee from a fresh pot Ian had kept warm. He sat down and placed the box in front of him.
“Happy Anniversary,” he said. Aryl put down his book and recognized the memorial box. Instantly he was angry.
“Where did you get that?”
“Where you left it. In the bottom of your closet.”
“So, while I’m tied up out here you’re going through my things?”
Jonathan looked up with a smirk. “Pretty much.”
Aryl looked away, muttering to himself while Jonathan set the box on the ground.
“Relax, Aryl, we’re just trying to help you.”
“Well, we’ve been out here a week. Am I cured? Let me help you with that answer. No. You’re wasting your time. I’m just counting on the fact that eventually you’ll get tired and bored and give it up already.”
“I know you are, Aryl.” He stood and put his hands on his hips. “I know that’s been your idea from the start but I can assure you, we’re patient and we’re stronger than you are. We’ll stay out here until the snow comes, if that’s what it takes.”
They heard Caleb’s tired footsteps long before they saw him.
“I forgot if you asked me to bring bread or potatoes, Jon, so I brought both. And Maura sent a dish of beans.”
“I’m sick of fried potatoes and beans,” Aryl said.
“As is half the country, I’m sure. But it’s what we’ve got.”
“In a few weeks the first batch of green beans will be in. Maybe carrots, too,” Caleb said.
“Oh, goodie. We’ll have a stew,” Aryl said with a sarcastic smirk.
Jonathan took the groceries from Caleb. “I don’t know what it’s officially called but it seems that our friend has left the hard physical pain of being without his medicine and recently moved to the phase of being a complete ass.”
Caleb threw Aryl a questioning look. “Recently?”
“Let me tie you to a tree for a week and see how chipper you are.”
“Has it been a week already?” Caleb asked.
“Yes, today is a week.” Jonathan said, turning to Aryl. “Also today, a year ago, you died when the Ava-Maura sank.”
Caleb fell silent and somber, leaning on a nearby tree. He remembered the storm, the waves and the fear. Jonathan tried not to relive the moments when Sheriff Vincent showed up, the agony of the wait and the horribleness of knowing, but he couldn’t help it. Aryl stared at the ground, refusing to think about it at all.
Caleb cleared his throat and Aryl lifted his head, resting it against the tree. “Do you need a hankie?”
Caleb looked up, hurt and wounded and promptly threw a rock at his head. Aryl leaned over snickering.
“That isn’t funny, Aryl. It was hard on us.”
His entertained face fell flat. “Yeah, and I was on vacation having a grand time, wasn’t I.”
“Maybe you were,” Jonathan said, holding his hands out. “Maybe you were over there having the time of your life. Found new friends, a new job, a new woman. After all, Sloan found you in Paris and we both know there’s a lot of fun to be had there. It sure stinks that while we were here suffering and struggling, you were living it up.”
Aryl raised his eyes slowly. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Maybe that’s why you don’t want to tell us about your time away. Because you feel guilty. And who wouldn’t. I know I’d feel guilty as hell if my friends were going through all this back home and I’d just run off and found a happy new life.”
“I wasn’t happy!”
“Oh, come on, Aryl. Sure you were. Says so right here in these notes. You were living it up with Gina on your arm, drinking the best wine and opiate tonic money could buy. Having a ball!”
“That damn notebook is wrong!”
Jonathan sat down and flipped it open on his lap. “Well, it’s your word against Sloan’s. And he’s given me a lot more words to go off of than you have. And he says that not only did you know who you were the whole time, you never wanted to come home. You were perfectly happy where you were.”
“Let me see that,” Aryl said.
“So you can destroy it? I don’t think so.”
“I won’t destroy it.”
“And I’m having steak for dinner,” He said, licking his lips and closing his eyes. “God, I miss steak.”
“You’re lying. It doesn’t say that. You’re trying to mess with my head. I remember exactly what I told Sloan.”
“Do you? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Caleb, hold his hands.”
Caleb walked over, giving Aryl a kick in the thigh before he dropped to his knees and grabbed his hands. “That’s for asking me if I needed a damn hankie,” he hissed.
Aryl stared at him with a masculine mixture of love and hate. Jonathan held out the notebook, letting Aryl’s eyes scan the words.
“Turn the page,” he said after a minute. Jonathan did and he continued to read, his lips moving silently with the words, his face growing more incredulous.
“This is all lies!” he yelled, looking up at Jonathan. “It’s all lies.”
Jonathan shrugged and pulled the notebook back.
“I dunno, Aryl. It makes sense to me.”
Aryl was seething and Caleb released his hands, taking a quick step back.
“Why don’t you start with the very first memory you have after the boat blew up.”
“The very first? The very first memory I have is wanting to die. Very badly. For hours, days…weeks, even. That’s all I wanted.”
“But you didn’t. What do you remember after that?” Jonathan asked.
“That’s
all,” Aryl said stubbornly. “I wanted to die. I wish I’d drown that day.”
“You wish you had even now? You wish you were dead?”
Aryl looked up at him with steely eyes, his face void of emotion. “Yes.”
“You’d do it if you could, wouldn’t you?” Jonathan asked.
Aryl looked determined as he lowered his head and nodded.
Jonathan stood with his lips clamped shut for a moment. “Alright. Fine,” he said and dropped down to Aryl’s feet. He yanked at his shoes, throwing them off to the side.
“Caleb. Cut the rope.”
“What?! But, Jon!”
“Trust me. Cut it.”
Jonathan pulled Aryl to his feet and took hold of the rope at the back of his waist.
“C’mon. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Where are we taking him?” Caleb asked.
“To grant him his wish,” he said, pushing Aryl along.
“If you try to run, we’ll catch you. You won’t get far without shoes,” Jonathan said.
The road was hot on his bare feet and he jumped off every step, wincing. No one seemed to notice anything odd about them as they walked toward the marina with Jonathan’s hand holding the rope at Aryl’s back and Caleb on the other side, holding the coiled length of it at his side.
They boarded the Ahna-Joy, pulled in the lines and chugged around the spit, out into the ocean.
After twenty minutes, Jonathan stopped the boat and walked out of the wheel house.
“Well, here we are,” he said, smiling at Aryl. “This is about where it happened, the best we can guess.”
“Why are we here?”
“So you can get your wish one year later. Go ahead.” He waved his hand. “Jump.”
“You think I won’t do it?” Aryl said, standing up slowly.
“No, I think you will. I think it’s what you really want and I don’t have the energy to change your mind.”
Aryl backed up toward the railing. “You’d let me drown right in front of you?”
“I’m not letting you do anything but make your own decision. But whatever it is, do it quick.” Jonathan scanned the horizon. “We might have time to throw a few pots afterward and make up for the expense of coming out here.”
“It’s what you’ve wanted, Aryl. Go ahead,” Caleb said.
“What’ll you tell Claire?” he asked, standing very near the rails, peering over them. The waves lapped gently against the side of the boat. The sun illuminated the first few feet of the light blue water. A small fish wiggled past.
“I’ll tell her that she’d better try and patch things up with Gordon quick, before he gets the idea to marry Tarin.”
Something flashed in Aryl’s eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Caleb said. “Gordon will take real good care of her. And Jac.”
Aryl lunged across the deck at Caleb. He dodged and Aryl went sprawling.
Jonathan grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.
“You want to die, Aryl? Do you?” he yelled, giving him a hard shake.
“Yes,” he said, glaring.
“Fine!” Jonathan growled and threw him over the rail. He hit the water with a loud splash and Caleb ran to his side.
“Jon! I thought we were only going to call his bluff!”
Jonathan watched the water as Aryl’s head broke the surface, wide eyed and gasping.
“We are.”
MLG
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Reading the series in order:
1929 Book One-Jonathan’s Cross
Elizabeth’s Heart Book Two
1930 Book-Three Aryl’s Divide
Drifter Book Four
M.L. Gardner Works in Progress include:
Purgatory Cove Book Five
1931 Book Six-Caleb’s Err
Simon’s Watch Book Seven
A 1929 Christmas Special (Release date November 10th, 2013)
Reclaiming Katie
Other books by M.L. Gardner:
Simply, Mine
Short Stories from 1929
Table of Contents
Copyright
Other books
May 2nd 1931
Five days earlier
Chapter One Last Things First
Chapter Two An Obvious Outsider
Chapter Three A Minor Detail
Chapter Four Lost Souls
Chapter Five Nature Calls
Chapter Six Loyalty
Chapter Seven Dark Days
Chapter Eight Double Vision
Chapter Nine Irony
Chapter Ten Paying Up
Chapter Eleven Ten Times
Chapter Twelve Helping Hands
Chapter Thirteen Complications
Chapter Fourteen Gone Wrong
Chapter Fifteen Somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean
Chapter Sixteen Gathered In
Chapter Seventeen Lost in Translation
Chapter Eighteen Turned Out
Chapter Nineteen Raising the Stakes
Chapter Twenty A Gut Feeling
Chapter Twenty-One Getting To Know You
Chapter Twenty-Two Next of Kin
Chapter Twenty-Three Double Jeopardy
Chapter Twenty-Four Cemetery at Midnight
Chapter Twenty-Five Earning It
Chapter Twenty-Six Ready and Waiting
Chapter Twenty-Seven Betrayed
Chapter Twenty-Eight Oh, Elizabeth
Chapter Twenty-Nine In Plain Sight
Chapter Thirty Small Endeavors
Chapter Thirty-One Found Out
Chapter Thirty-Two Rockport
preview of 1931, Book Three, Caleb’s Err