by C. T. Worth
“Hilde, why didn't you say he was so handsome?” It was Miss Grande’s voice. “I need to go home. I’ve got some cookies to bake.”
Without faltering, he strode forward, suppressing a smile. He had not intended to eavesdrop but considered himself fortunate that he’d overheard that bit of discussion. It would be prudent to avoid the tailor’s shop if at all possible. Once the doors closed behind him, he scanned the town. It was much like he expected. The half dozen developing towns they had traveled through to reach Spruce Hill had prepared him well. What had surprised him was the smell of the ocean mixed with the scents of pine and sawdust. He’d imagined the mill would have been farther from the heart of the settlement, but this suited him just fine.
He walked down the path leading to the lighthouse, knowing that was where he would find Leland. As he drew near, he could hear his son’s laughter which was interrupted by the high-pitched voice of a woman.
“Now the pirates would never have put the treasure on the very top for all to find, but I am sure that with a few more trips we will uncover it.”
“Why did they put all these things in the treasure box? Why not sand?” Leland sounded a little unconvinced by whatever yarn this female was spinning.
Hunter rounded a tree and the pair of treasure hunters came into view. He stopped. His mouth went dry. The woman playing with his son could have been Mildred. Fear mixed with disbelief seemed to paralyze him.
“When we opened it up and saw clothing and household goods, did you think it was a treasure chest?” the young woman asked.
“No. I thought it looked more like your traveling trunk.”
“There you go. It was the perfect disguise. Now, let's hurry back down and get some more items out of there before the tide changes.”
“But why do we need to carry all those things up here? Why can't we empty the treasure chest on the beach and let those dresses wash away?”
“Let’s start down the path, and I’ll explain it to you as we go.”
Hunter regained some function and called out, “Leland?”
The child turned toward his father and ran across the field. Instinct caused him to kneel down and open his arms. The embrace was short-lived because Leland’s energy was still brimming over.
Pulling away from his father, Leland started rapidly speaking.
“Pa, I came down here and met that pretty lady.”
He pointed to the woman, but Hunter didn't have the strength to face her again. Not yet.
“She was sitting on the beach at the bottom of a long trail on top of a trunk she had found. It was just sitting there…right on the sand. She says she thinks it washed up on shore during high tide and that there is treasure in it, but so far all we’ve seen is a bunch of girl stuff.”
Hunter looked around and took in the foreboding, rugged landscape. A beautiful lighthouse lay not more than a few hundred yards ahead. While the bluff they stood upon was level, it was obviously surrounded by steep, ominous cliffs.
“It doesn't look safe…”
“No,” Leland insisted. He pointed to a dense grove of trees that lay to the north.
Hunter squinted and noticed a very small gate, nearly hidden in a gap.
“There is a path over there, and it leads to the beach.” Leland took his father’s hand and began pulling him toward this break, in the direction of the strange female.
Chapter 3
Lilian too was scanning her surroundings when the tall, handsome gentleman appeared. She was searching for an escape route. Unfortunately, he was standing directly on the path that led into town. Her only other alternative was to go in the opposite direction. But since that appeared to dead-end at a lighthouse, escape seemed impossible. If she could not leave, she would do what she had been doing for weeks now. She would hope to be ignored, and if that failed, she would lie.
When the boy ran into the man’s arms, she made the connection. This must be the child’s father. She hoped he would simply collect his charge and leave, but if he was going to confront her, she was glad that it was not the mother who had come to collect the boy. It was always harder to sweet-talk her way out of these kinds of situations when she was dealing with a woman.
She looked down at her heap of clothes. She had really hoped to have the rest of them, as well as her empty trunk, brought up here before being spotted. Ideally, she would have been able to repack everything prior to encountering her first adult, but if she had possession of the trunk —full or empty — it would be less awkward than standing next to a pile of her things. In fact, with so many loose articles to carry, she would be hard-pressed to escape even if the man did become distracted.
Her mind went to work concocting a story, and it was a good thing she had such foresight. All hopes this little family would just skedaddle were dashed when the child started dragging his dad in her direction.
“This is the lady that found it,” he said as he tugged on his father’s arm with all his might.
She pulled back her shoulders, allowed a steady release of air out through her nose, and placed her most innocent smile on her lips. Once they stood face to face, the father refused to look her in the eye. He instead seemed fixated on her pile of clothes. To her horror, a pair of knickers was poking out of the stack just enough that a married man would be able to identify it.
“Pa, this is Miss Emily.”
Lilian was relieved that upon meeting this child she had enough of her wits about her to offer a false name. She nearly hadn't. He had mentioned he was staying in the hotel so she assumed theirs would be a temporary acquaintance, a child would not think to remember her name if he passed through a town where they were searching for her, and she never expected a parent to retrieve him in her presence. She had thought she was being excessively cautious. But now she was beginning to see no such thing was possible.
The man bent down and picked up her knickers. Holding the item between two fingers he asked in an amused tone, “Is this the pirates’ treasure you were helping my son locate?”
Heat crawled up her neck and filled her cheeks. She snatched the undergarment out of the man’s hands, balled it up, and held it behind her back.
“No, Pa. The pirates just put that girly stuff on top to scare away treasure hunters like me.”
Lilian looked up. He was eyeing at her in a way that made her feel exposed. As soon as their eyes met, he turned away, ran his hand over his face, and closed his eyes. Lilian was certain that the child’s mother would not have cared for that series of expressions.
A moment later, his appearance returned to normal, and he asked his son, “Well, where is this treasure then?”
The child ran toward the gate, and the man followed behind at a leisurely pace.
He did not turn back, but he called out, “Come on, Miss Emily. The pirates must have been hiding something terribly special to have gone to so much effort to protect it. You don't want to leave your claim unguarded.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes, but after returning her knickers to the bottom of the pile and making sure they were well hidden, she ran and caught up to the strange man just as he began his descent down the steep path. His son was a good ten paces in front of him.
The man pointed over the railing to the small beach below. “You know, Miss Emily, that is a strange place for the pirates to leave their chest. I am mighty curious how it came to be there.”
“I’m sure if I had any knowledge on the matter, I would be hesitant to share it with a man so ill-bred that he has yet to offer his name.”
“Unless he happens to be my son, evidently.” The man progressed five more steps, stopped, and turned around.
She nearly bumped into his chest.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” she snapped. “Won’t your wife be looking for you?”
“She stares down at me from heaven every moment of every day.”
She blanched, but if he was still grieving, he was hiding it well. Before she could even express her condolences,
he resumed badgering her.
“I’ll trade you a name for your theory about why there is a trunk sitting on this tiny bit of beach…and I don’t mean your story about the high tide dragging it in.”
“I haven't the faintest idea,” she said.
He turned. “I see. Well, I guess I should bring it into town and show it to the local innkeeper and his wife.” He lowered the brim of his hat and took another few steps toward the beach. “I think I can read people fairly well. If I’m not mistaken, the wife will know every woman around these parts and could help me find the rightful pirate heir.”
Lilian gritted her teeth. “You wouldn’t…”
“Want to try me?”
“Fine.” She stopped and stood there, arms akimbo, glaring at his back.
He cocked his head then turned to face her.
“I am on my way to meet my fiancé. I was traveling by sea but must continue on land. The ocean liner that brought me here dropped anchor out beyond the rocks, and a porter rowed me and my things over to this beach.”
He threw his head back and laughed. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “An ocean liner dropping a passenger off at Spruce Hill…and wound up leaving her on a beach?” He continued down the trail. “Well, you are entertaining if nothing else. The name is Hunter Winfield. And my boy is named Leland.”
Once they were all gathered in front of the trunk, Leland reached down to unfasten the straps holding the lid shut.
Hunter placed his hand on top of the child’s and said, “Why don’t you let me carry this back to the top of the cliffs? Miss Emily can look for the treasure there.”
Leland frowned but nodded.
Lilian said a silent prayer of thanks that she would not need to find a way to drag an empty box up such a steep incline after making countless trips to transport its cargo.
Hunter bent down and loaded the trunk onto his shoulder with so much ease, Lilian nearly forgot just how heavy it was.
“Leland, do you mind escorting Miss Emily back up? It might be best if I am last, in case I lose hold of this.”
Leland held out his arm and Lilian was charmed.
Chapter 4
When Hunter set the box down on the expansive lawn, Leland again sprang forward ready to unlatch the lid. He was stopped by his father who gently wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders.
“We have a lady in our midst, son. Maybe we should let her do the honors.”
Lilian cast a grateful glance in his direction and opened the trunk. She quickly gathered the pile of loose articles that were sitting beside her and returned them to their case.
Leland’s face screwed into a scowl. He whispered, rather loudly, “Pa, she’s doing it wrong.”
“Give me a minute,” she replied before reaching deep into the trunk and rummaging around. She pulled out a small bag of sweets. “I have thoroughly investigated and…” she paused, put on her best pirate expression, and held up a hand with her fingers curled in the shape of a hook. “Thar’ be the only treasure in these here parts.”
The child’s face lit, and he eagerly reached for the bag. With his fingers nearly grasping the prize, he paused. Concern marred his features. “Don’t we need to split the treasure?”
Lilian shook her head. “Why don't you keep that, and I’ll take all this useless girl stuff.”
A big grin accompanied his tiny nod. Once he’d taken the candies, he turned toward Hunter. “Pa, you want some?” Even before receiving an answer he was tearing the bag open.
“No,” Hunter said with a laugh. In a sterner tone, he added, “But no more than two. We need to head back to the hotel and get some breakfast.”
With a candy lodged behind each cheek, Leland made a muffled request to stay a little longer.
“Five minutes,” was the only answer he needed to hear before running in the direction of some bushes from which a chorus of croaking had been emanating.
Lilian looked toward a privy that lay closer to Lookout Rock, and said, “Thank you for your assistance in getting my things up here, Mr. Winfield. If you don’t mind, there is something I need to take care of.”
Once she was gone, Hunter took a seat on the sturdy trunk. What an unusual morning it had been. He was pleased that this odd encounter was coming to its conclusion. Soon, he would have a full belly and would be on his way to meet the Foresters. Better yet, the woman who bore a striking resemblance to Mildred would be a distant memory.
“Hunter Winfield?” Hunter looked up to see a man in his early twenties hurrying toward him. He had a youthful appearance, but Hunter thought he appeared slightly unkempt. His hair was a bit too long and he needed a shave. It couldn't be Mr. Forester. The man again asked, “Are you Hunter Winfield?”
Hunter stretched his legs out and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a cigar case, one of the few items he had carried through the bloody war, and subsequently one of the only remaining belongings from his old life. “Who's asking?” He didn't look up until the man had stopped only a few feet in front of him.
He wouldn't describe himself as a gambling man, but Hunter certainly enjoyed the occasional game of poker. When his eyes met this stranger's, he could sense the same panic the sweeps through every player when a worthy adversary sits down at the table. He was trying to hide it, but the man standing before him viewed him as a threat. He was being sized up. But why?
He returned the case to his pocket. This fellow was strong; if he was looking for a fight, Hunter’d need his hands free. He tried to place the stranger. The intense blue eyes should have made that face stand out in his memory, but on the battlefield, these little details were easily forgotten. In truth, Hunter was hard-pressed to believe someone from his past would be searching for him here, but no one that fought in the war had walked away without having crossed a few people. “Do I know you?” he asked. He scanned the field for his boy.
Thankfully, Leland hadn't noticed this latest arrival.
“No, don’t think we’ve met. My name is Troy Spencer. I’m the deputy here, and I’m a good family friend of the Foresters.” Troy extended his hand. Hunter stood up and shook it.
The voice sounded friendly enough, but there was something about the way the deputy was watching him that indicated he felt uneasy. “What can I do for you, Deputy Spencer?”
“Actually, there was something I was thinking I could do for you. The foreman you’re taking over for, Wernicke Webb, is moving to take a job down in California. He’ll be leaving next week, and I was thinking that you might prefer living in his house, what with having a boy and all.”
“Mighty kind of you to think of me, but I thought I should hold off on buying something until I get my feet wet in this new job.” Hunter had spoken the truth, although he had omitted the fact that he would need to save before he could purchase a home.
“Well, see that’s the thing. I’m engaged, and we’ll need a house of our own once we’re married. I was thinking I could buy the house, and you could live there and maintain it for me until we’re ready to move in.”
“And why wouldn’t you live…”
“Pa!” Leland shouted. Hunter swiveled around to find his son was running toward him. His hands were cupped around something. “Look what I found.”
Miss Emily was also returning. She walked a few steps behind Leland. Hunter turned back to face Deputy Spencer, but the deputy’s eyes were shifting between Leland and Miss Emily. Gone was the tension and mistrust. The deputy now looked like a young boy. Hunter began to piece together what had been bothering this man.
“Your fiancée… it wouldn't happen to be Miss Forester, would it?”
“Huh?” Troy’s focus returned as if he had just woken from a daze. “Bethany? Yes… yes, that’s my future wife. Did her father write to you and mention our engagement?”
“No. Just a lucky hunch.”
A genuine smile transformed Troy Spencer’s face.
Hunter had to wonder why he had been nervous about fighting this man.
“I did not know you were married, Mr. Winfield. Your son bears a striking resemblance to his mother.”
“Yes, he does.” It was now Hunter’s turn to be confused. How could the deputy possibly know this?
Again, Troy was looking over Hunter’s shoulder watching something closer to the cliffs. “I was under the impression you were a widower.”
Hunter’s jaw dropped. He spun around and saw Leland had stopped running and was now showing whatever treasure he had discovered to Miss Emily. By God, the deputy thought this stranger was the mother of his child. The blood rushed from Hunter’s face. He dropped his chin. There was her trunk. Of course, it seemed they were together, that the three of them had formed a family. “No…no…” he stammered.
He was unable to finish his thoughts, much less his words, before his son and Miss Emily had rejoined them.
“Pa, I caught a frog,” Leland said thrusting his cupped hands into his father’s face.
Hunter Winfield suddenly had a horrible thought. If he didn’t speak up soon and set things straight, that stupid deputy would imply that Miss Emily was his wife. Only this time, he would be speaking in front of the woman herself…and Leland.
“You scared of frogs, Pa?” Leland had dropped his hands back to his side and frowned.
“No, I…I just was having a few words with the deputy here, and you interrupted.”
“Yes, I was telling your husband that I am buying a house that your family may live in while you settle into a Spruce Hill.”
Time seemed to slow down. Hunter turned to see Troy was talking directly to Miss Emily and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“She is not my wife!” he snapped. The words came out with such vitriol, all but Leland looked at him as if he were the worst kind of cad.
Troy’s eyes then grew wide. He again scanned Leland. “This town is a Christian community, Mr. Winfield. I don’t think Mr. Forester would look too favorably on…”
“I am his housekeeper and nanny,” Miss Emily announced. Her words were sharp and full of indignation. She puffed out her chest, demonstrating she was appalled by his inference.