Dune Drive

by Mariah Stewart

  “He said they were loyal to the crown, and that after the Brits conscripted several young men from St. Dennis to serve in their navy, the loyalists were blamed.”

  “They literally forced them onto the island, assuming they’d most likely die there. Cannonball Island was considered to be uninhabitable. There was nothing there but a bunch of scrub pines and sand and marsh.”

  “I guess folks didn’t take kindly to their boys being abducted,” Jared said.

  “You think that’s a good enough reason to send twenty-some families to their death?”

  “They didn’t die, though, did they?’

  “No, but only because they were tougher and smarter than anyone had given them credit for,” she snapped.

  “So, yes, they’d have been tough.” He slowed the engine even more to the point where they were almost drifting. “How’d they build their shelters if there was only scrub pine available?”

  “Relatives who were not loyalists brought them supplies by boat so the others on the mainland wouldn’t see they were helping,” she told him.

  “Well, then, they weren’t exactly left to die, and all the folks in St. Dennis weren’t evil.” Before she could reply, he said, “Just looking for facts here.”

  “Sorry. Depending on who you talk to, the people in St. Dennis were either the devil’s spawn or folks just seeking justice for their lost boys,” she said. “Gigi was always sort of proud to have been descended from one of the early people on the island. Owen’s dad was obsessed with what he perceived as the injustice of it all. He never got over it, never let Owen or Lis make friends with any of the kids from St. Dennis. He was a mean cuss anyway.”

  “Well, both Owen and Lis are great people, so apparently none of his meanness stuck.”

  “Lucky for the rest of us.” Chrissie walked out onto the deck of the slow-moving boat. “Oh, that’s the New River over on the left.”

  “I know. That’s where we’re headed.”

  “Why the river?”

  “We’re sightseeing, remember?” Jared flashed a smile. “Get ready to see some sights.”

  He turned into the river and took the sharp curve gently. The banks were heavily wooded until they’d gone about a quarter mile upstream.

  “There on your right are the warehouses Dallas bought for her studio.” He pointed up ahead.

  “How do you know that?” Chrissie frowned. “I’ve been in St. Dennis longer than you and I just found that out last week.”

  “I made it my business to find out. Okay, I just found out over the weekend, and that was by accident. Grace told me.”

  “Ha. So much for trying to pass yourself off as an expert.”

  Jared laughed. “And right up there, behind those trees, if you look up the hill . . .”

  “It’s Blossoms!” Chrissie grinned. “I knew the woods were thick behind the building, but I had no idea they extended so far along the waterline.”

  “Wait till you see what comes next.”

  “You seem to know a lot about River Road from the back side. Did you already make this run?”

  “Only from the road,” he admitted. “And that was a week or so ago.”

  The boat scared a small flock of birds that rested on the low limbs of a tree that hung over the water. They scattered in a cluster. Moments later, the woods gave way to spacious lawns that surrounded stately homes and that ended in docks where boats were moored.

  “Nice neighborhood,” Chrissie said. “I drive on River Road every day and I never saw this section.”

  “It’s because the houses are set so far back, and most of them have evergreens or wooded areas planted along the roadway.”

  A little farther up the river, Jared cut the engine again. “See that house?” He pointed to a Victorian mansion. A carriage house overlooked the water and what might have been a boathouse sat close to the dock.

  “Who lives there?”

  “Berry Townsend. Dallas’s aunt. She was—”

  “I know. A great film star. She was in the fashion show last week. But I heard she’s actually Dallas’s grandmother, not her aunt.”

  “Really? Are you sure that’s not just gossip?”

  “Nope. Reliable source and all that.”

  “Interesting. Anyway, that’s some pad, right?”

  “It really is.” Chrissie was still standing. “There’s a fence around the front. I guess to keep the riffraff out. I don’t blame her. It’s a beautiful property. If I lived in a house like that, I’d probably have the entire place fenced in, too.”

  “Somehow I don’t see you in a place like that,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  “I think it’s too over the top for you. Doesn’t suit your personality. As least, as I know it.”

  She turned to look at him. “What do you think suits me?”

  “Someplace . . . I don’t know, someplace not ostentatious. More comfortable, more casual, relaxed, maybe. I don’t see myself walking into that mansion and kicking off my shoes, for example. I don’t see you comfortable in a place where you can’t kick off your shoes, either.”

  “That’s because neither of us are Hollywood royalty,” she told him.

  Jared nodded slowly. “That could be it.”

  “So where to now?” Chrissie asked.

  “Now we turn around down here where the river gets wider, and we start back in the opposite direction.”

  He kept the slow pace so as to not disturb the boats tied at the docks they passed, but once back out onto the bay, he opened the engine and sped toward town. Chrissie’d expected him to dock at the inn, but he kept going.

  “I thought you said we were going back.” She pointed to the inn.

  “Nope. We still have sights to see.”

  “The inn looks so regal from here,” she said. “When you come in through the front, you don’t appreciate that there are different wings. The porch looks like it came right off a southern plantation.” She thought for a moment. “Which probably isn’t a surprise, since I think I read somewhere that the original structure—that center part—was built in the 1850s.”

  “It’s impressive.” He pointed to the tennis courts. “Look, that’s where I gave up three tennis games in a row to one of my crewmembers last week.”

  “Sounds like someone needs to practice.”

  “Someone needs to find a different game. For some reason, tennis just isn’t mine.”

  “More into team sports?”

  “Not really that, either. I played soccer when I was in school, but I missed a lot of games because my dad liked to take me with him when he went on dives, so I wasn’t a reliable teammate.”

  “He just took you out of school whenever he felt like it?”

  “Pretty much.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Don’t judge, or think he wasn’t a great dad, because he was. Besides, I learned more on those trips than I would have learned in a classroom. Geography, history, anthropology, archaeology, languages—and I was exposed to so many different cultures at a young age. I learned to see the whole world as one. One planet. One people. I’ll never forget the lessons I learned from him.” They passed the remnants of a lighthouse that once stood at the end of Bayview Drive, and passed the cove that harbored Sunset Beach. Jared fell silent until they crossed the sound and the island came into view.

  “Oh, I never saw the island from the water,” Chrissie said. “It looks almost deserted.”

  “From here it does, yeah.” He pointed off to the left. “There’s the store.”

  She crossed the deck and leaned on the railing. “I can see my room from here. Second floor, third window on the right.”

  “Now I know where to put the ladder,” he said.

  She turned and looked at him. “Planning a little B and E?”

  “You never know when wanderlust might strike and I might need my travel companion.”

  “Tossing a few stones at the window would be just as effective.”

  “I have a hell of a pitch. R
uby might get annoyed if I break a window or two.”

  “Good point. In that case, the ladders are in the garden shed.”

  “I’ll make a note.”

  She turned back to the island view and he guided the boat into one of the coves.

  “Owen said one reason why he likes his deadrise is the flat bottom,” Jared said. “You can take it into shallow water and not get stuck. Unless, of course, you beach it. Then all bets are off.”

  “I can see some of those little houses Cass is selling. I think she was having them open to the public today. She’s hoping to sell a few on spec.” Having ditched the sandals, Chrissie stood on her tiptoes. “Have you seen any of them yet?”

  “No. I keep meaning to, though. I’m curious.”

  “If I could afford it, I’d buy one. There’s something so incredibly cool about what she’s doing. Building new houses using as much of the old material as she can—the wood that made up the floors, the bricks from the fireplaces, in some cases the glass from the windows.” Chrissie sighed. “I’d love to live in a place so full of history.”

  “You live in a place full of history right now. Owen said the store was one of the first buildings to go up on the island, maybe the first.”

  “True, but it’s not mine. I’ve never had a place that was just mine. I think I’d like it.” She shrugged. “At least, I’d like the chance to find out.”

  “Well, then, I hope one day you do that. Find a place that’s just yours. I think everyone should live alone for a while. It’s easier to sort things out when you’re by yourself.”

  He drove the boat out of the cove and toward the point.

  “Lis and I used to sit on that pier,” she told him as they passed by. “We used to crab there. Sometimes I still go all the way out to the end by myself and watch the sun set on the bay. It’s such a peaceful place.”

  He drove around to the other side of the island where the house Owen and Cass were renovating stood in a clearing.

  “My great-grandad—Gigi’s Harold, her husband—was born in that house,” Chrissie told him. “His father was a waterman and he built the place for his wife before he’d even proposed to her.”

  “Now, there’s a confident man.”

  “No doubt,” she agreed. “He had to have known she’d say yes. They raised a family of seven children and she died right after the seventh was born. Six months later, he married a younger woman and had seven more kids with her.”

  “Not only confident but virile.”

  Chrissie laughed. “She died before he did, then he passed away a few months later.” She stared at the island and the house for what seemed like a long time. “For years I wanted to know about my family. My mother always blew me off, didn’t think any of it was interesting. But Ruby comes out with these gems every once in a while without me even asking. I love to think about them living here and working so hard to make a good life for themselves and each other and their children. There must have been something really strong inside those people. I want to think that some of their strength has come down through the generations. I want to be able to be that strong.”

  “You seem pretty strong—pretty together to me,” he told her.

  “Do I?” Her smile was slow in coming. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”

  Could she ever tell him who she used to be? How New Chrissie had fought so hard and come so far from Old Chrissie? Would she ever be able to tell anyone just how bad things had been for her?

  “Anyway, that old place was vacant for years, since Harold’s youngest brother died. We used to play in it when we were kids. Gigi gave it to Owen to fix up. It’s going to be beautiful when he’s finished with it.”

  “He reminds me every chance he gets,” Jared said. “They’re going to have one hell of a view, that’s for sure.”

  “If you’re nice to him, maybe he’ll let you sit on his back patio and watch the sun set sometime.”

  Around one more curve of land, and there was Jared’s ship, the Cordelia E.

  “It’s bigger than it looks from the island,” Chrissie said.

  “She’s a good size. Probably a little bigger than what I need for this job, but she’s a favorite of mine. Dad’s, too. He named her after Delia, as you can see.” He pointed to the name of the ship painted across the back.

  He drove around the ship, waved to the crewman on the deck who watched him go by, then drove the deadrise into the mouth of the river, where he pulled back on the throttle.

  “The ship you’re salvaging, the merchant ship. It’s around here somewhere, right?”

  Jared pointed down. “We’re over it.”

  “It’s right down there?”

  He nodded, and she leaned over the side of the boat.

  “I don’t see anything,” she said. “The water’s so dark here.”

  “The water in the Chesapeake is dark, and the river’s no better. It’s a tough place to dive, but that’s what makes it interesting.”

  “But how can you see if it’s so dark?’

  “We bring in lights.” He grinned. “They cast a ghostly glow over everything, so it’s just a little on the creepy side the first time you experience it, but you get used to it soon enough.”

  “Not me. I’d never get used to it. Being underwater and in the dark?” The thought of it made her wince. “I don’t think so.”

  “Anytime you want to go down there with me, you just say the word. My sister always keeps a wet suit on board here, so you could—”

  “No. No, I couldn’t.”

  “I bet if you dove someplace where the water was clear and there were pretty little fishes swimming around you, you’d love it.”

  “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t. But we’ll never know, because I’ll never do it.”

  “Well, your loss. It’s a whole new beautiful, ever-changing world, Chris.”

  “I’m happy for you that you found something you love. Now change the subject.”

  He groaned, apparently frustrated, but did as she asked. She moved to the stern and took a long, deep breath. “The air smells saltier here than it did closer to St. Dennis.”

  “That’s because the bay’s saltier here. We’re closer to the ocean, which is salt water. St. Dennis is close to the New River, which is freshwater, and there’s more freshwater in the upper portion of the bay. Remember, the Chesapeake’s an estuary, and the ocean water flows up into it just as the Susquahanna River flows down. So some areas have salt water, some fresh. St. Dennis is in one of those areas where the two meet and mix.”

  “I never think about the river flowing down,” she admitted. “I just always think it’s salty because the water around the island is salt water.”

  “Anyway, the ship is down there and it’s making me crazy not to be down there with it. I know Owen’s getting antsy and my crew got impatient, so I had to let most of them go home until we get the thumbs-up to dive. I did keep a couple of my guys to stay with the boat when I’m not on it. We alternate nights on shore and nights on the boat.”

  “So you have sleeping quarters?”

  “Enough for eight men. And a cabin for the captain.” He nudged her with his elbow. “That would be me.”

  She stared over the railing into the dark water. “Gigi always refers to that ship down there as the tea ship.”

  “That’s what it was carrying when it went down. It apparently was running from a ship that would have confiscated its cargo, so the captain tried to hide it in the river. Like you can hide a ship that big. He didn’t realize how shallow the river is here, and he went aground, and then the storm hit. I have some photos we took on the last dive before we were shut down. They’re on the Cordy E, though. I’ll show you sometime.”

  “Can you see the Native American village in the photos?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then how do you know it was there?”

  “Artifacts that were found there. A lot of pottery. Some fishing implements, to
ols, arrowheads. Local legend pointed us in that direction, and the vestiges of the people who lived there proved the legend right.”

  “Gigi said that at one time, that piece of land”—she pointed across the river opposite the island—“extended clear on out past the middle of the river, so close you could walk from one side to the other at low tide.”

  “She wouldn’t have been alive that long ago,” Jared pointed out.

  “I don’t know how she knows.” Ruby’s words when Chrissie was leaving the store rang in her ears—“How do you think I know?”—and Chrissie smiled.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Just . . . nothing.”

  He idled the engine and opened the cooler that had been on the boat when they picked it up.

  “Water?” he asked, holding up a bottle.

  “I’d love one.” She took the bottle and opened it. She drank some and wished she could pour the rest of it over her arms and legs. Gigi had been right about the danger of sunburn, even this early in the season. Her bare arms and legs were soaking up the heat. And if she’d known she’d have to be climbing on—then later off—a boat, she wouldn’t have worn a short skirt. Gigi’d been right about that, too.

  Of course she had.

  She could feel his gaze and sensed there was something he was about to say, but he wasn’t saying it. His indecision was making her a little uncomfortable.

  “So what else can’t you explain?” she asked to break the silence.

  “What?” He seemed to snap out of the fog he’d been in.

  “You said there were many things you’d seen that you couldn’t explain. UFOs being one of them. The abandoned city. What else?”

  He thought for a moment. “There’s a place where airplanes disappear without a trace. They go missing, but no sign is ever found of the plane or the passengers or the cargo.”

  “The Bermuda Triangle. Everyone’s heard of that.”

  “Correction. The Alaskan Triangle.” He smiled smugly.

  “I never heard of the Alaskan Triangle. I think you just made it up.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. It’s true. Over sixteen thousand people have disappeared in the Alaskan wilderness. Did you ever hear of Hale Boggs?”