Tears sprung to Reagan’s eyes. She considered dumping the breakfast on her plate into the trash because she no longer felt like eating, but then she realized that would be an even greater insult to Cora Rose. Meekly, she made her way to the kitchen table, sat down with her steaming plate, and began to choke down her food. Tears ran silently down her checks as she wept and ate. She felt incredibly alone. She missed her mom, she didn’t feel like she belonged with Willow and Cora Rose, and even Wiley wasn’t next to her right now. With a sob, she lay her head down on the table next to her eggs and just lost it.
As all the frustration and stress of the last couple of weeks poured out of her eyes and onto the table, Reagan felt a soft touch stroke the top of her head. Light fingers pulled a strand of hair that was stuck to the tears on her cheek and tucked it behind her ears. Reagan didn’t move, soaking in the moment of compassion. She didn’t realize Willow had it in her to be empathetic, but apparently, she did. Taking a shaky, steadying breath, Reagan raised her head just as Cora Rose and Willow walked into the kitchen, followed by a subdued Wiley. Then Reagan broke down completely.
“Girl, what the hell is wrong with you today? Are you having your monthly or something?” Cora Rose stared at the sobbing girl at the table. “Stop that nonsense and eat your food before it gets cold. Just because you are having a hard time accepting things you don’t understand isn’t a good enough reason to waste my good cooking, and I have to tell you, I did a damn fine job on the cherry cobbler if I have to say so myself.”
“Yes, you did, Cora Rose,” said Willow as she stuffed a second forkful into her mouth. “This is damn delicious. Probably the best you have ever made. Don’t wait too long to taste it, Reagan. You’ll want to eat it while it’s hot. Cora Rose, do we have any fresh cream to pour on this?”
Reagan raised her head from the table and swiped at her eyes. She was astounded that these two were going on as if nothing had happened. Cora Rose set down a small pitcher of cream, and Willow proceeded to pour it calmly over her hot cobbler. Reagan’s breath came in a loud, shaky hiccup sound, and Willow and Cora Rose laughed.
“I’m really sorry Cora Rose. I just thought you were pranking me over and over again, I was just getting tired of it. I don’t know what is happening. I don’t understand it, and I just can’t wrap my head around it being something, I don’t know, supernatural or something.”
“Then don’t wrap your head around it. Just let it be. Continue on with your life, and just let it be. Do you understand how monarch butterflies can migrate all the way to Mexico? Those delicate, fragile beauties can take a trip for 3,000 miles and not get lost. Do you think about that? Do you understand how they do it? Yet, do you doubt that they do it?” Reagan shook her head ‘no.’ “Do you know how bees can tell other bees how to find an amazing field filled with pollen? Do you know how chameleons can change their color to blend into their surroundings? All of these miracles, all of these unexplained things, do you stop your day to think about them? Does it affect you in any way?” Again, Reagan shook her head. “Then why can you not look at this in the same way? There is something that you don’t understand. This is just one of life’s mysteries. Let it go and coexist.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but Willow, someone or something touched me just now. I felt someone smoothing down my hair and comforting me. At first I thought it was you.”
“Yeah, right!” said Willow. Reagan laughed.
“Well, I have to admit. It did surprise me that you would do that, but who else could it have been? Then I looked up and saw you two coming into the kitchen.”
“Probably Adelaide,” said Cora Rose. “She is the nice one. Was she humming?”
“No, she was quiet. But last night, I swear I saw her in my room. She was in the rocking chair, holding my brush and her journal. She was crying. Then she vanished. This morning, my brush was on the floor and the journal was on the rocking chair where it fell from her hand.”
“Adelaide won’t harm you, dear. She probably uses your brush every night. They say she was pretty damn vain about that hair of hers,” said Willow. “She is beautiful, naïve, but kind. You have nothing to fear if you encounter Adelaide. Nothing at all. Okay, so if you two aren’t going to kill each other, and Cora Rose is going to continue in my employ, then I can go to work. Deal?” Reagan nodded, and Cora Rose humphed.
Willow took that for a yes and left the kitchen on the way to the barn. Reagan looked up meekly at Cora Rose and apologized again.
“I feel terrible, Cora Rose. I am really sorry. On the other hand, this cherry cobbler is really amazing.”
Cora Rose beamed in spite of herself and started humming as she began to clean the kitchen. Reagan finished her breakfast, rolled up her sleeves and helped Cora Rose finish the clean-up. When they finished, Reagan told Cora Rose that she was going to go down to the ocean for a bit, but later was going into town, did she need anything? Cora Rose thought for a minute but then said she was good. As Reagan was walking out the door, Cora Rose called her back.
“What Willow said was true,” Cora Rose began. “Adelaide won’t cause you any harm, but there are other things that will. Despite the fact that you think I’m crazy, you need to be very careful of the wolves under that table, and whatever you do, don’t go up on the fourth floor.” Reagan swallowed her initial reply and muttered a ‘yes ma’am’ and a ‘thank you,’ and walked out of the house with Wiley close on her heels.
* * *
Reagan made her way down the cliff trail and onto the rocks. The tide was out, and the gulls were preoccupied with the bounty left in the rock crevices. They paid no attention to her today. She heard a soft whistling and saw Seth rounding the cliff, walking toward her with a smile on his face. Clasped in his left hand was a fistful of wildflowers. As he reached Reagan, he extended his hand presenting her the bouquet.
“Thanks,” stammered Reagan. “Why do I deserve this?”
“I kind of figured you might need cheering up today,” said Seth. “How’s your head? Any serious damage from yesterday’s gull attack?”
“I think I’ll live,” said Reagan. Seth smiled and grabbed her hand, pulling her down to sit on the rocks next to him.
“I have something else for you,” he said. He pulled out a clean cloth handkerchief and unfolded it. Nestled in the soft white fabric was a small, black metal starfish pendant hung on an intricately knotted string necklace. The starfish had a delicate pattern, and the black metal glowed with a burnished waxed finish. It was exquisite and primitive, and it looked vaguely familiar.
“This is for me?” asked Reagan. “It’s beautiful. This is obviously expensive. I can’t take it.”
“Expensive? No, I made it.” Seth said, modestly.
“You made this? You mean you knotted the string to make the chain?”
“Yes, I did that, but I also made the starfish.”
“Are you kidding? How did you do that?”
“I make a lot of things. We often need things for the boat and the household. We make what we need when we need it. At one time, the place where you live was a working farm. They had the ability and the tools they needed to make whatever they required.” Reagan thought of all the rooms on the first-floor basement. She remembered seeing the baskets half-finished and the butchering room.
“That’s pretty awesome. I can’t do anything. My aunt makes beautiful pottery, and you make beautiful things out of metal, but all I ever do is read. I don’t have a creative bone in my body. I love this starfish. Even though it is metal, it feels warm.”
“Here, let me tie it on for you.” Reagan lifted the necklace to her neck and Seth swept her hair to the side and over her shoulder. His fingers lingered on the back of her neck before they slid down the hank of hair. A gull cried overhead and began to circle them. Another joined them. Reagan tensed, but Seth shushed her. “It’ll be fine.”
A gull swooped, and Reagan ducked. Quickly, Seth tied the knotted string chain and kissed the spot where it fell again
st her skin. The gulls screamed. Reagan was sure they sounded angry. One swooped close but stopped in mid-flight and veered away. Seth kissed her cheek, his eyes cast toward the sky in defiance. The gulls cried out in frustration but wouldn’t come close. “The starfish will protect you,” Seth whispered. “Keep it on, and you’ll be safe.” Reagan laughed at the serious note in his voice.
“I love the sentiment, and I think it’s sweet, so I will wear it because you gave it to me, but not because I think it has magical powers.”
“I don’t care what you think, I just care that you wear it. Think of it as part of me. I made it, so it has some of my spirit. It will be there when I can’t, and it will keep you safe.”
He looked deep in her eyes, and she felt a chill. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the words he spoke, or just because of the strange way he was looking at her. As soon as it came, the chill passed. Then she felt a flush of warmth and quickly looked away. She realized she was staring at him hungrily, obvious that she wanted him to kiss her. He laughed and delightedly obliged while gulls flew in circles over their heads crying loudly.
Reagan closed her eyes and let herself get swept away. Seth’s cool lips tasted vaguely of the ocean. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as his fingers twisted in her hair. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her deeply. She sighed and leaned into him.
The starfish that now lay on her chest seemed to warm her. She broke away from his lips and looked into his eyes. They were a soft gray-blue today, darker than before, but lit with a fiery glow. He groaned and drew her close again. She lay her head on his chest.
Suddenly, she felt compelled to look up the cliff toward the house. It was like she was being watched. Half expecting Willow or Cora Rose to be peering down over the cliff edge, she was relieved to see that the trail above her was empty. Then she glanced up higher, to the old house. Her eyes traveled over the windows of the fourth floor until she came to the corner room, the room with the rounded windows that formed a tower at the corner of the house.
Then she saw her. A shadowy figure in a long dress, dark tangled tresses and eyes that bore into Reagan’s soul. She stiffened. Seth pulled back and looked at her pale face. Then he followed her stare to the window of the tower room. His eyes locked with the eyes of the shadow lady, and his lips quirked up quickly in a little grin. The image of the woman vanished. Then he looked down at Reagan.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“Did you see her? Did you see that woman?”
“What woman?” he asked her.
“The woman in the window. In the curved window of the tower on the fourth floor. Didn’t you see her?”
“I don’t see anything now, do you?” Reagan looked at the window and saw nothing, just the reflection of some clouds and the gulls that filled the sky.
“No, there’s nothing there. Just my imagination running away with me. These damn gulls have me spooked.”
“I told you, you’re safe with me. You have nothing to worry about,” said Seth as he touched the starfish pendant with his index finger. Then he lifted the finger to her lips. She kissed it. He pressed it to his mouth, then stood. He kissed the top of her warm head and walked away, disappearing around the curve of the cliff, just like he did every time he left her.
Chapter 15
Reagan leaned back against the rocks and basked in the memory of Seth’s kiss. She didn’t know a thing about this man, but she loved how he made her feel. He always seemed to know when she was coming down to the rocks, but he never stayed long. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat.
How did he always know when she was going to be on the cliffs? Was he stalking her? Not liking the creepy thought, she pushed it aside. He hadn’t done anything to make her nervous. He seemed like a serious guy, more mature than the boys back home. Probably because he worked on the fishing boat with his dad. It was like he was more centered and responsible than other kids his age. She also had the impression he wasn’t a rich kid, but rather had to work for the things he had.
Who did she know who could make a starfish necklace like the one he made her? She reached up to touch the pendant that now hung around her neck. No one she knew would even have a clue how to begin to make something like that. She loved the little black starfish, but something about it bothered her. It was almost like she had seen it before, but where? She remembered the starfish she had seen in the tide pool the first time she had met Seth. Maybe that is what she was thinking about. It was a remarkable likeness.
She closed her eyes and thought about the morning. She really had been a brat to Cora Rose. It wasn’t like her to be rude and inconsiderate. Maybe she really was under some stress. She enjoyed living at the cliff house and spending her summer reading, but she missed her mom, and she missed being a normal teenager. She wasn’t used to being cooped up and not going to the mall or a movie or something. She probably needed some kind of companionship. She wished she would have asked Seth if he wanted to go into town or something, but he was long gone, and she wasn’t the type to go chasing after a boy. Maybe she could text Olivia and see if she wanted to do anything.
Pulling out her cell phone, she sent a quick text to her mom letting her know she was okay and that she missed her. Then she texted Olivia saying she was bored and wanted to hang out, was there anything to do in this sleepy town? She gazed out at the ocean, watching a pod of dolphins playing in the waves while waiting for a response from either one of the texts. The first came from her mom. She was well, and she was glad that Reagan was doing okay. There was a chance that her assignment might be shorter than expected, so she might get home sooner than they had anticipated. That made Reagan smile, and she texted her mom that although she was having a good time, she would be happy to be going home early. Her mom cautioned her not to count on it, but just wanted to give her a heads up.
Still grinning at the thought of a shortened time in Maine, another text came through. This one was from Olivia. She couldn’t do anything today because she was canning cherries with her mom, but she and her friends were planning on going to Orchard Bend Beach the next day if Reagan wanted to tag along. Reagan let her know she was interested and asked her to be sure to send the details. Then she headed up the cliff to return to the house.
Reagan went up to her room to grab her car keys and her purse. Her brush was right where she left it, and the journal was also still next to the brush. Nothing had been moved. She gathered her library books and left a note in the kitchen for Willow that she was driving into town and to call her if she needed anything.
Reagan stopped at the drugstore and picked up a new bottle of shampoo. As she headed toward the cashier, she passed a display of handcrafted soaps; the sign touting the maker as a local soap artisan. The heady aromas made Reagan pause and pick up each different bar of soap, inhaling and appreciating their individual fragrances and beautiful swirled colors. Each bar was hand cut and unwrapped, the silky-smooth texture imparted moisture to Reagan’s dry fingertips. Selecting one called Blueberry Delight, Reagan lifted it to her nose.
“That’s my favorite,” a deep voice spoke behind her. Startled, Reagan almost dropped the bar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t see you behind me. So, Blueberry Delight is your favorite?” quipped Reagan with her eyebrow raised as she took in the tall, dark-haired guy standing in front of her. “You bathe with Blueberry Delight?” He grinned unabashedly back at her.
“I do. I am also very fond of Bay Rum and Warm Vanilla. I don’t like Lemon Dream though.” Not sure if he was pulling her leg, Reagan glanced over her shoulder at the soap display. Sure enough, Bay Rum and Warm Vanilla were there, although there was a short supply of the Bay Rum. The Lemon Dream stack was plentiful. She picked up the Bay Rum and smelled it. It was warm and masculine, and reminded her slightly of Seth’s scent, although his was spicier and carried more citrus.
“Okay, so you like handmade artisan soaps. That’s cool,” Reagan responded, flir
ting a little.
“Well, I can’t help but like them. My mom makes them, and I am often corralled to help,” said the still grinning young man. “So, hello. I’m Chase Renault. My mom has been making soap since I was a baby, and her mother made it before her. I suppose all my ancestors made their own soap at one time because no one bought it at the store, but Mom makes the good smelling stuff that’s good for your skin… yada, yada, yada.”
“I can’t argue with you. It smells amazing.” Reagan dropped the bar of Blueberry Delight into her shopping cart. “Do you always just hang out by the soap display, promoting your mom’s business?”
“Nope, I work here, stocking shelves and stuff. You haven’t told me your name, so I guess you don’t want me to know it, you’re painfully shy, or just incredibly rude,” said Chase. Reagan’s face instantly colored a deep red, and she began to sputter. “Relax. I am just messing with you. I know who you are. Your name is Reagan, and you’re Willow’s niece. All the kids in town think you are either crazy or incredibly brave to be living out at Willow’s place.”
“And what do you think, Chase? Crazy or brave?”
“Neither.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you share the town’s fascination with my aunt’s house and the fact that it is haunted or whatever.”
“Do you believe it’s haunted?” asked Chase.
“No, I don’t believe in that stuff,” said Reagan, but she flashed back on the scene this morning with the journal and the hairbrush and the subsequent blow up with Cora Rose.
“You seemed to hesitate there. Do you believe, yes, or no?”
“Definitely, no,” declared Reagan. “How about you? Do you believe?”
“Of course, I do. I live in Littleport, don’t I?” asked Chase. Chase looked at her steadily with that grin still planted on his face. Wow, he was good looking, but damn, everyone here was crazy. Nothing had changed.
The Starfish Talisman Page 9