“Then you all get to split half of what we take in.” Ham snagged the next person to walk by and sold a few more tickets.
Jason waved to Grace, who was deep in conversation with a woman he didn’t recognize, and walked the perimeter of the group. He’d just reached the tree line when he saw Sophie out of the corner of his eye. He could pick her out in any crowd, he thought. He knew how she moved. He stood back and just watched her for a moment, taking pleasure in the way she smiled at people, the friendly way she touched this person’s arm or the small of that person’s back as she passed through the throng. She was so natural, her manner so easy and unaffected, and so beautiful he could barely believe that last night hadn’t been the best dream he’d ever had. Could have been, but there she was, raising a few fingers in greeting and making her way to him.
Jason couldn’t say at that moment where or how far this thing between them would go, but he was all in until the last living second.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He looped his thumbs through his waistband lest those hands reach out for her. He wasn’t sure such a PDA would be appreciated. He had to settle for one of her smiles, and just for a moment, they were back at her little rented house, alone in their own little world. “You’re on time.”
“Barely. I had a phone call.”
“Anything wrong?”
“What? Oh, no. Just a friend I worked with back in Ohio.”
“Did you buy a ticket?”
“Sure. I bought two.”
“What did you guess?”
“A lawn mower on one.”
“So did I, and apparently so did half the people here.”
“It seemed logical.”
“What about the second one?”
“I guessed a carriage.” She looked up and smiled, and his heart thumped an extra few beats. “Makes sense, right? Carriage house? Carriage?”
“Well, there go Cameron and Grant with some serious-looking tools to cut off the chain, so I guess we’ll know soon enough.”
“Looks like Grace is going to say a few words first,” Sophie noted.
“I’m so pleased to see so many of you here this morning.” Grace spoke from the back porch, where she leaned against the top rail. “As you know, we pick one building to renovate as best we can with the funds we raise, and this year, we’ve chosen the Ryder-Cavanaugh carriage house. Ellie hasn’t been able to get the lock off, so today, we’re bringing out the big guns. Cam has some cutter thing that he thinks might be able to work through the chain, so we’ll see.”
“If he can’t get it open or if the place is empty, do we get our raffle money back?” someone from the crowd called.
“Sorry, but no. As you can see, Ham Forbes is holding all the cash, and we all know he’s never voluntarily given up a dime he didn’t have to.” She smiled. “We knew what we were doing when we put him in charge of the raffle.”
Ham laughed good-naturedly along with the crowd.
“Now, I think most of us know that the original house on this property was built by the keeper of the lighthouse that was just beyond those trees.” Grace pointed off to her left. “If you know your local history, you’ll recall that that house actually stood where the carriage house stands now, the house that was burned by the pirates that used to terrorize St. Dennis, but that’s another story. It’s said that the foundation of the original house can be seen inside the carriage house, but I don’t know anyone who’s actually seen it, so we all might be in on a big discovery today. The lighthouse, of course, has been gone for many years now, though the base is still standing.”
“So if I guessed that we’d find the foundation in there, and it’s there, I win, right?” a woman in the front of the crowd asked.
“Sadly, no, since that’s common knowledge.” Grace glanced toward the carriage house. “Cameron, you and Grant ready to begin?”
“We are.” Cam held up a bolt cutter. The handles were three feet long, and the cutting end looked deadly.
“Go for it,” Ellie urged him.
Grant held the thick, rusted links in his hands, and Cam proceeded to cut away. When the chain finally fell to the ground, releasing the lock, Cam pushed open the high, wide double doors and the crowd cheered.
“I guess I could have done that months ago,” Cam acknowledged.
“But look at all the fun we’d have missed.” Grace came down from the porch. “Not to mention the fact that the historical society will benefit.” She turned and gestured to Ham, as president of the organization, to follow her inside. “Here we go, people.”
With Grace and Ham leading the way, the crowd pressed forward. The air inside was stale and musty, and cobwebs hung from the ceilings. The windows of the old structure had been painted black at some point in the past, so those with flashlights turned them on. There was some light chatter, then silence. “Would you look at that!”
“I’m looking, but I don’t know what I’m looking at!”
“What do you suppose that is?”
Fifty-two pairs of eyes stared at the great glass object in the middle of the floor.
“It’s the lamp and the lens from the old lighthouse,” an awed Grace told them.
“It’s a Fresnel lens.” Jason knelt down to inspect the glass.
“How would you know that?” Sophie asked.
“I did some work on the grounds at a lighthouse in Florida that was being restored. The engineers showed me how the whole thing worked. The lens surrounds the lamp sort of the way a lamp shade surrounds a lightbulb. This one was probably fixed, showed a steady stream of light. There was also a revolving lens that made a flashing light.”
“Cool,” someone in the back said.
“Very cool,” agreed Cam. He looked over his shoulder at Ellie. “Any idea what you might want to do with it?”
She shook her head. “None whatsoever. I mean, what does one do with a giant glass lamp shade?”
“Sell it to a lighthouse somewhere?” someone suggested.
“This one’s cracked—see there?” He pointed to deep within the lens. “Besides, I don’t think any of these are still operational,” Jason told them. “Most modern lighthouses use aerobeacons, some have gone to LED. I don’t think there’s a market for Fresnel lenses. I could be wrong, but it’s doubtful. I guess maybe the Coast Guard might know.”
“Maybe we should move it to the historical society’s building,” Ellie said.
“The building’s too small.” Grace appeared thoughtful. “Maybe we could put it on display somewhere, though, if Ellie agreed.”
“My lens is your lens.” Ellie shrugged. “If you want to move it, be my guest.”
“I suppose for now, this is as good a place for it as any, until someone comes up with a plan for it.” Cam stood, his hands on his hips, still staring at their find.
“Anyone have ‘lens for the old lighthouse’ on their raffle card?” Grace glanced around. No hands shot up.
“Then I thank you all for your donations to the organization. Now, let’s put those flashlights to work and see if we can locate the foundation of the old house that’s supposed to be in here.”
Several dozen flashlights sent beams of light around the darkened structure. Finally, Cameron called out from the left side of the building.
“I think this is it.” He knelt down and moved some dirt away from a line of random stones. “Looks like it started here and went across the back of the building.”
“I believe you’re right.” Grace came closer to inspect the rubble. “It’s always gratifying when reality proves a legend to be true.”
She whipped out her camera and began to take pictures. “Story and photos in Thursday’s edition of the St. Dennis Gazette,” she told everyone. “This is an exciting day. Ellie, thank you for allowing us to break into your carriage house.”
“Thank you for suggesting it,” Ellie said. “I’ve been wondering what was in this place for months. I just found my great-aunt’s croquet set in the corner,
and I’m not sure what all else we might find.”
“I found some empty paint cans.” Grant held one up. “There are a few old tires, some garden tools, and a rusty bicycle along the back wall.”
“There’s an old pair of rubber boots under the window,” Gabby, Ellie’s fourteen-year-old half sister, piped up.
“Stick your foot in one and see if there’s anything inside,” Cameron teased.
“Ewwww!” Gabby and her friend—who Sophie recognized as Steffie’s niece, Paige of the pink braids—both looked appalled.
“Now, let’s see if we can figure out what needs to be done to restore this fine old building.” Grace was still beaming with the thrill of discovery. “My thought was that we break into teams, and that each team would adopt a different part of the building to work on. Try to keep your experience in mind when you sign up. Cameron, since you’re acting as our general contractor, you don’t need to sign up for anything specific, but I’d like everyone else to commit to a portion of the work, however small.” She glanced around the crowd. “Look around, see what you’d like to do, then meet me out at the table where Ham was selling the raffle tickets and we’ll sign you up. First workday will be next Saturday. But please, please don’t sign up to do a job if you aren’t sure you’re going to follow through. If you say you’re going to work, you’re going to have to work. We’d like to include Ellie’s house and the carriage house on the next Independence Day tour, so we need to get the job done quickly.”
“Want to be on my team?” Jason’s hand was on the small of Sophie’s back. Through her T-shirt he could feel her warmth, and it took him back to last night, and this morning, and the smoothness of her skin.
“Sure. What shall we sign up for?”
“I’m thinking maybe the windows—paint and repair—then maybe restore the old window boxes for the exterior.”
Sophie followed Jason to one of the five small windows in the structure.
“I’d like Cam’s opinion,” he continued, “but I think we’ll need to scrape the paint from the panes and from the mullions, then maybe regrout the glass.” He inspected the first window, then went on to the second. “The window boxes won’t be a problem. They look solid enough. I think we’ll just paint and rehang them, then plant them up.” He moved on to the next window and Sophie followed. “You in?”
She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she was going to decline.
“Sure. I can spare a little time on a few Saturdays. You don’t think it will take too long, do you?”
“Why? You going somewhere?”
“No. But …” She appeared thoughtful. “If it goes more than three weeks, do you think we could work on Sundays instead of Saturdays?”
“I don’t see why not.” He looked over his shoulder and asked, “You got some hot Saturday dates coming up?”
She shook her head and started to say something, when Cameron walked over.
“So, are we all set for Tuesday?” Cam asked Sophie.
“I’m all set. You’ve got everyone lined up?”
Cameron nodded. “One o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“See you then.”
Jason listened, but didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. Obviously, Sophie had hired Cam to work on her new building. Later, as Sophie signed up for her work project, Jason managed to take a few steps back to where Cam stood.
“So, you’re doing work on Sophie’s new place,” he said as if he knew all about it.
“Yup. Putting a rush on it for her, pulling guys from another job, bringing my best subs in so she can open in time to cash in on some of the early tourist traffic.”
“Nice of you. By the way,” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant, “where is it?”
“Didn’t she tell you?” Cam asked.
“No.”
“Then you’re going to have to ask her. My lips are sealed.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a jerk.” Though he’d have been hard pressed to admit it, it bugged him just a little that she wouldn’t tell him but she’d already shared her new place—her dreams—with Cam.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk. She made us promise not to tell anyone about the place. Since she hasn’t released us from that promise …” Cam shrugged.
Sophie and Ellie, deep in conversation, walked in their direction. Jason tried, but he couldn’t look away from Sophie. He liked the way she walked, the intensity of her expression as she chatted with Ellie.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that look of lust isn’t being inspired by my fiancée.” Cam lowered his voice. “Otherwise, if you were looking at Ellie like that, I’d have to hurt you.”
Jason took a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapped it, folding it into his mouth while pointedly ignoring Cam’s remark.
“So what’s going on?” Cam asked. “And since when?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jason jammed his hands into his pockets.
“Oh, please. It’s written all over your face.” Cam smirked. “So the questions remain. Since when, and does Jesse know?”
“Does Jesse know what?” Sophie asked as she and Ellie joined them.
“Does Jesse know about the project.” Jason shot Cam a conspiratorial look. “You know, in case he and Brooke want to participate.”
“I’ll see him in a few hours. We’re having dinner with Pop. Maybe you could join us.”
Sophie smiled at him and Jason couldn’t help himself. He had to smile back. She brought out something in him that he couldn’t put a finger on, except to know it was something he’d never felt before.
“I have Logan tonight,” he recalled.
“Maybe Brooke will want Logan to come with us, since she’s been away for a week.”
“I mentioned that to Logan, but he said he’d see her when she got home and he didn’t have to see her all night.” Jason shrugged. “Brooke, on the other hand, might have other plans.”
“Let me know if that changes.” Sophie glanced at her watch. “I should go. I want to get a few things put away at the office before Jesse gets back.”
“We’re done here anyway.” Jason looked around at the dispersing crowd. “Most everyone’s leaving now.”
“What’s on your schedule for tomorrow?” She started to walk toward the street, and he walked along with her.
“I’m hoping to put the finishing touches on your grandfather’s garden.”
“All day?”
“Probably.”
“Well, I guess I won’t see you until Tuesday.” Sophie looked genuinely disappointed.
“I’ll be at your office at one.”
“Make it twelve forty-five,” she told him. “I’m supposed to meet Cameron at one at the property.”
“I can’t wait to see this place.” Jason stopped at the front fender of her car. He really wanted to kiss her, but thought twice of it. There were lots of folks mulling around, and he suspected it would make her uncomfortable. It was still too new, whatever this was that was between them. There’d be other times, he reminded himself. Like Tuesday. “How ’bout we go out to dinner on Tuesday night to celebrate?”
“I’d love that. Yes, let’s celebrate.” Her eyes were shining, and he could barely stand it.
“It’s a date, then.” He opened her car door for her, then closed it when she got inside. She started the car and pulled away from the side of the road, passing him after she turned around in Ellie’s driveway.
“ ’Bye,” she mouthed the word, and for a moment, he thought she might have blown a subtle kiss in his direction.
Jason watched the car disappear, then made his way down the road to his pickup. This night wasn’t going to be anything like last night, but he had Tuesday to look forward to, and who knew how many nights would follow after that?
Early Tuesday morning, singing along with the radio at the top of her lungs to Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind”—the original version—Sophie drove to River Road for her las
t look around before the closing later that morning. She’d stopped at Cuppachino for her morning coffee, but at eight thirty, most of the regulars had already come and gone. Just as well, she reminded herself. She was a bundle of nerves and probably would be until the closing was over and she had the deed to her property in her hands. She didn’t want to discuss it with anyone, didn’t want to explain what she was doing until it was done, because if something went wrong at the last minute, she’d have to be explaining over and over why her restaurant wasn’t going to happen after all. There were times, such as this, when her maternal grandmother’s favorite adage—“The less said, the better”—definitely applied.
The words died in her throat as she approached her destination. Her foot on the brake, she all but stopped dead in the middle of the road. There, in the property next to hers, stood a mountain—three mountains—of something that looked horrible and smelled even worse, and a dump truck that was backing in through the opened gates appeared to be about to dump yet another load of whatever it was onto the ground, right next to the fence between the restaurant and what had been a vacant lot next door.
She flew onto the parking area in front of her place and jumped out of her car.
“Hey!” she called as she ran along the fence, waving to the driver to get his attention. When that failed, she ran past the gate and onto the freshly blacktopped yard. “Hey, stop!”
The closer she got, the worse the smell.
She ran up to the cab of the truck and banged on the window.
“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
The driver leisurely rolled down the window. “Huh?”
“You can’t dump that … that stuff here,” she panted.
The driver—identified as Lennie by the flap on his shirt pocket—appeared confused.
“You’re going to have to dump this … stuff someplace else.” She looked around and spotted an empty spot across the parking lot. “Like over there.” She pointed across the yard. “Move all this over to there.”
“My orders were to dump it here.” Lennie pointed to the stinking, steaming pile that he’d already dumped next to the fence.
The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge Page 206