Seeking the Shore
© 2017 Donna Gentry Morton. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopying, or recording, except for the inclusion in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published in the United States by BQB Publishing
(an imprint of Boutique of Quality Books Publishing Company, Inc.)
www.bqbpublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America
978-1-945448-02-7 (p)
978-1-945448-03-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017935809
Book design by Robin Krauss, www.bookformatters.com
Cover design by Marla Thompson, www.edgeofwater.com
First editor: Paige Duke
Second editor: Olivia Swenson
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Other Books by Donna Gentry Morton
Watching the Water, Book 1 in the Heart Tides series
1934
The sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness.
Joseph Conrad
Julianna Sheffield McAllister had never wanted to melt into the woodwork the way she did in that moment.
Her father glared at her from behind the desk in his study. His face was twisted with disgust, as though looking at a monster.
“You were just another robbery to that bandit,” said Richard Sheffield as he rose from his chair. “He came for you because it was another way to steal from me.”
She exhaled a deep and shaking sigh, her father’s words stabbing her heart like a million knives. That bandit was her husband, Jace McAllister. And yes, Jace had taken her from her father and the life he had planned out for her, which included marrying Leyton Drakeworth. The fact that her ex-fiancé’s name rhymed with Satan was no coincidence.
Her father was waiting for a response, but Julianna couldn’t find her voice. Instead, her mind was traveling back to three weeks earlier, to that rainy night when she had left town with Jace. She had been fully aware that he was the masked bandit who robbed her family’s banks, and yet it hadn’t seemed to matter. Because she loved him.
“Did you hear me, Julianna? I said that bandit only wanted you because it was another way to rob me.”
“That isn’t true,” she said, averting her green eyes to the floor. They burned with tears of disappointment. After disappearing just weeks before her scheduled wedding to Leyton, she hadn’t expected bear hugs from her father when she returned to Dreamland, her family’s mansion. But did he have to look at her this way? Could his anger not be softened—just a little—by a parent’s love for a child? Then again, did he really love her? He had never neglected or spared expense in meeting her need for food, clothing, and shelter, but he had certainly fallen short on giving her the attention she needed as a child. It was only when she became a teenager that he began to notice her. She remembered the feeling—like warm sunlight suddenly filling a dark room. It faded away, though, as she realized her father’s interest carried a hidden agenda. He had been grooming her for a groom—a son-in-law who would be the son he never had. Unfortunately, that man was Leyton, a prized employee at the bank who was thrust upon her shortly after her twenty-first birthday.
Now she was a year older and a whole lot wiser.
Her father crossed the room and stood before her. She was tall, but he was taller and much larger in frame, making her feel like a pixie beneath a dragon.
He looked down on her as he said, “He only wanted your trust fund.”
“That isn’t true,” she repeated.
“Don’t tell me what isn’t true!” he yelled, causing her to flinch. “And look at me when I speak to you!”
She lifted her head and met his eyes, cold and rock hard.
“Do you think that man cared for you?” he seemed aghast.
She nodded. “He more than cared. He loved me.”
“He stole from us,” her father hissed, kicking over a reading chair.
“Please, I want to tell you the whole story.” Her voice betrayed her desperation to let her father know everything about Jace. She wanted to tell him how Jace had used the stolen money to pay back those people her father and Leyton had hurt by manipulating the stock market prior to the crash in 1929. That Jace had overheard the two men laughing and celebrating their victory. That Jace had uncovered Leyton embezzling the bank’s funds. She wanted to see her father’s face when she told him Leyton risked having his knees nailed to the floor if he didn’t pay back money he had skimmed from Lightfoot Lipton, the former bootlegging king he moonlighted for during Prohibition. It was a sordid story, indeed, and Julianna was anxious to spill the details to her father.
“I don’t want to hear any of the story!” he roared, waving his arms at the ceiling. “I don’t want to hear that man’s name under this roof.”
From a seat in the corner, Leyton spoke up. “That’s an excellent house rule, sir,” he said then looked at Julianna. “We’ve just come from a grueling six-hour drive from Ambrose Point, that pathetic little beach town that the nameless one toted you off to and wanted you to call home. Trust me, love, you’ll thank me for tracking you down and rescuing you from the life you were about to settle for.” He smirked. “And considering that you cried all the way home, I should think that he is out of your system by now.”
Leyton’s words seared her tender nerves, seared through the grief and exhaustion that had weakened her during the miserable drive back. Rescued her? No, he had ruined her. Memories pummeled her like a hurricane. Leyton showing up in Ambrose Point and assaulting her on the beach. Jace fighting Leyton off. The deputy . . . his pistol in the sand . . . her shaking finger on the trigger . . . and the bullet that was never meant for Leyton. Jace confessing to his crimes to protect her. And worst of all, Sheriff Tucker Moll’s impossible news. The shock of it still took her breath away.
Jace was dead.
And all because of Leyton. None of it would have happened if that snake had just left well enough alone. But he would pay. She would go through with the wedding to the man who really wanted her trust fund, along with complete control of the family banks. She would say “I do,” and she would make sure the truth about Leyton was found out. She had vowed to be front and center when his day of reckoning finally came. Now that Jace was gone, she had nothing else to wait for.
The whirlwind of thoughts settled down, but rage simmered on the edge of her nerves. She would never refer to Jace as just a he. Defiantly, she tossed back her hair. Her shoulder-length waves of maple were sun-kissed, the golden highlights a result of three weeks in the beach town Ambrose Point. Pinning Leyton with her own smirk, she declared, “Jace McAllister will never be out of my system.”
Leyton rolled his eyes. “He was a bank robber, love.”
Was it is his tone, his choice of words, or just his existe
nce that made her rage start to boil? “So were you!” she screamed. She started toward him, wanting to yank every short, blond, perfectly combed hair right out of his head.
When her father stopped her with a strong hand to her arm, she spun to face him and barked her side of the story. “Leyton stole from us, too. Last summer, he had a briefcase full of money—”
Quick to interrupt, Leyton sprang from his chair and came up behind Julianna. He looked over her head at Richard and feigned a look of shock. “I don’t understand her accusation, sir.”
“Julianna, first you betray me, now you’re lying,” her father said, shaking his head. “You act as if your mind has snapped. I swear, one more attempt to stop this wedding, and I will personally have you committed to an asylum.” He returned to his desk and sat with his forehead resting in one hand. “There’s nothing more to say.”
She didn’t quake at her father’s threat. He could swear forever, but she knew he wouldn’t risk attaching such a stigma to the family name.
She turned to Leyton. “We’ll never be happy together. Never.”
He flushed and glanced at her father. Julianna knew that whatever he said would be for Father’s benefit, self-serving for Leyton by making him seem all the more committed to her.
“Keats put it best, love. The course of true love never does run smooth.”
She picked up the chair her father had kicked over. “It was Shakespeare,” she said, wilting into the chair and burying her face in her hands. Her burst of anger was over, and the pain of losing Jace returned to the forefront—raw and all consuming.
“Julianna . . .”
The voice was soft. Julianna raised her face and looked through a glaze of tears.
Her mother had appeared in the doorway and was coming toward Julianna. When she knelt and grasped her hands, Julianna doubled over as if tormented by stomach cramps. Racking, helpless sobs competed with her breathing, and she squeezed her mother’s hands as though they were a lifeline.
“What did you men say to her?” her mother demanded, throwing an angry look over her shoulder.
The men gaped. Never had Audrey Sheffield challenged a man, especially not her husband.
“You know the whole story, dear,” Julianna’s father said. “If our daughter is upset, it’s because she brought it on herself.”
Julianna’s mother stood, freeing one hand so it could stroke the back of Julianna’s head. “I don’t care what Julianna has done,” she said. “She doesn’t deserve—” She looked compassionately at Julianna. “She doesn’t deserve to feel like this.”
For the next week, warm and loving hands were always on Julianna.
There were the hands of her mother. Julianna couldn’t help feeling amazed that she was willing to put aside her precious rules of high society to comfort her wayward daughter. Her mother actually seemed to be trying to understand what had driven Julianna to flee their world. This was an entirely new side to Audrey, a side for which Julianna was very grateful.
There were the hands of Virginia Fleming, Julianna’s best friend. The presence of the spirited, auburn-haired beauty was no surprise, and the familiar scent of Lucky Strikes on her fashionable clothes was a balm to Julianna. She needed her friend now more than ever, though convincing Virginia that the plan to undermine Leyton by becoming his wife would be a tall order. Virginia was one of the few who had seen through Leyton from the beginning—she was the one who had nicknamed him Satan and had cheered Julianna’s attempt to escape him.
Then there were the most tender hands of all, the ones that belonged to Cassie Baptista Spraggs. The family’s longtime cook and housekeeper had used those hands to soothe Julianna’s hurts since the days of Julianna’s childhood. She was an ample woman the color of cocoa, overflowing with wise words and a good heart and the courage and sass to speak her mind when necessary.
The three women gently pressed Julianna back on to the bed when she awoke from fitful sleeps. They ran cool cloths across her face or guided her into warm baths. They brushed her tears and brushed her hair. They took care of her every minute. And through a pain that wouldn’t cease, Julianna spilled her heart until her head and throat ached from fatigue.
Through sleep she sought peace, but its solace was short lived as the dreams of what could have been gave way to the brutality of what was. Some dreams painted vivid memories of being wrapped in the strong arms of the man she loved, his chin resting atop her head. When he pulled back and looked down at her, the chocolate-brown eyes were as soft and beautiful as the rest of him. Tall, dark, and handsome—she didn’t care if it was cliché, he fit the bill. He smiled when he talked, a trait she loved about him. How could she go on without him in her world?
Once, in the damp daybreak, she found herself in the fragrant gardens of her family’s Victorian mansion, situated on the outskirts of the southern city where she had been born and raised. She couldn’t remember leaving her room, only that Jace’s voice was calling from beyond the brick wall. She stopped to listen, her heart pounding for another chance at joy. But no . . . she had only been lured by a dream or her soul’s wishful thinking. Whatever had been responsible for the trickery, its cruelness left her feeling emptier than ever. The truth punched her, then filled her with its deep sadness. She slumped to the ground, unaffected by the chilly dew seeping through her gown.
Through the fog of her mind, she heard, “Up now, sweet girl.” The voice came from Cassie’s brother, Jimmy Mac, who had worked for the family almost as long as his sister had. Unlike Cassie, he was thin and wiry like their cousin Chester, another long time employee at Dreamland. While both men could be called a jack-of-all-trades, they mostly tended to the lavish gardens.
Jimmy Mac crouched beside her, gently shaking her shoulders. “Gonna catch cold out here.” He helped her up and led her into the house, taking her through the kitchen. Cassie was in the pantry gathering things for breakfast.
“That you, Jimmy Mac?” she called as the screen door slammed.
“Yes’m,” he answered. “Got Miss Julianna with me. Poor girl was balled up asleep in the gardens.”
Cassie came to the door of the pantry, a square room lined with shelves holding an assortment of canned and boxed goods, candles, and linens. Julianna ran to her, releasing a river of tears as she fell into the beloved cushy arms; she was secure against the familiar bosom.
“There now.” Cassie’s voice was soothing as she rubbed Julianna’s heaving back. “Tears clean the soul, help heal the heart.”
“Cassie, Jace wasn’t a bad man,” Julianna said, words muffled against Cassie’s yellow cotton dress. She lifted her head, searching Cassie’s face for belief. “He wasn’t. He didn’t even carry a loaded gun when he robbed the banks.”
“I know he wasn’t a bad man,” Cassie assured her. “Even if you hadn’t told me why he did what he did, I’d still know the man had good in him.”
“You would?”
“Uh-huh.” Cassie grabbed a napkin from a shelf and dabbed at Julianna’s eyes. “I know my Julianna—and she wouldn’t give her heart to a bad man.”
Relieved at Cassie’s trust, Julianna sighed and returned her head to Cassie’s chest. “I love him so much, Cassie. I’ll never be the same as the person who left here a few weeks ago.”
“’Course not,” Cassie said, gently rocking them back and forth. “You know what it means to love a man, to really love a man and have him love you back. No woman can feel that and not be changed by it.” She cupped Julianna’s face in her hands. “Why’d you come back here, child? Your mama’s seen the light—you taking off woke her up from the society sleep she was lost in. She’ll fight for you now, so why you gonna marry that devil come the weekend?”
“Leyton,” Julianna spat. She pulled away from Cassie and turned to face a pantry shelf, her shoulders rising and falling beneath anger that welled from the mention of his name. In one unexpected and startling move, her hand raked the shelf, causing a pyramid of canned food to crash to the floor and roll
in all directions.
“He took everything from me!”
Cassie extended a calming hand, but Julianna stepped away, pressing her back against the wall and sliding to the floor. There she sat, face buried in her hands, missing what was and missing what would never be. She longed to be on the porch of Jace’s bungalow where they had admired the majestic red-and-white Ambrose Point Lighthouse as Jace told stories from his family’s three generations of being its keeper. They were going to live with that view and make a life around it when he was released from paying penance for his Robin Hood ways. While he was making amends, she’d find her own passion to pursue, and when he returned he would chase his dream of writing books. And children? After the riding accident years before, the doctors had told her babies might not be possible, but Jace said they could adopt if she wanted to. Or maybe it would just be the two of them. Maybe they’d get a dog. Whatever happened, they would be together and be happy.
As best as her size would allow, Cassie squatted beside Julianna. “Revenge—that what you’re after?” She pried Julianna’s hands from her face and gazed into her eyes. “Are you settin’ out to take everything from him, just like he did to you?”
Julianna closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I suppose I am, Cassie.”
Cassie rose back up, wincing as her knees creaked beneath her weight. “How then?”
“I’m not naive enough to stage a vendetta against Leyton,” Julianna said, thinking of his arrival in Ambrose Point, how he had carried out his mission to bring her home despite efforts to stop him. He was too devious. Too powerful. Too clever to be brought down by retaliation. “He always gets what he wants.”
“Is that why you came back with him?”
“Where else could I go? Without Jace, I’d spend my life looking over my shoulder, wondering when Leyton or Father might spring from behind a bush.” She looked pleadingly at Cassie, hoping for understanding. “Marrying Leyton is my lot for now. I’m going to face that monster until I find a way to bring him down . . . it’s something I have to see through until the end.”
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