by MJ Miller
“I think this will answer some of your questions. Not all, but maybe it will give us all a starting point.”
The pair rode back to Chris and Annie’s in relative silence. Both seemingly lost in thought. Andy, thinking toward his future. Luce toward her past. Both nervously contemplating the next move they would make.
Setting their bags down in the foyer, they turned to face each other. Andy reached over, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and brushed a finger softly down her cheek.
Taking her hand, he laid her palm against his chest, then raised his to lay against hers. “You feel that Luce? My heart racing? I feel yours.” He paused. “This is right, Luce. Us. It’s meant to be. Whatever happens, it’s not just a hookup you can chalk up to wedding delirium.”
Luce locked her gaze with Andy’s and took a deep breath.
“You think I don’t know that? I do.”
He leaned down and kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Then taking her hand, led her up the stairs toward the Master.
“Wait.” Luce said quickly, causing him to stop suddenly.
“Is the house on fire?”
“Um, no,” Luce giggled. She couldn’t remember the last time she giggled.
“Did you leave your car lights on?”
“No.”
“Wrong time of the month?”
“Definitely not.”
Andy sighed dramatically.
“I don’t think we should sleep in there.” Luce whispered, as if it were a secret.
“I don’t intend to do any sleeping, Luce.” He raised a brow and smirked.
“I mean it’s their room, you know? Where they…” Luce let her voice trail off.
“Say no more,” Andy laughed loudly and swung around to head towards the guest rooms pulling her along. Since his was the first one they came to, that’s the room he entered. Turning her to face him, he began walking forward, forcing her backwards until she felt herself bump up against the bed.
He looked down at her, his expression a bit pained. “Here’s the thing, Luce, I’m just too old for this shit.”
“What?” Luce stared at him, horrified. “You are so not backing out now.”
“Not a chance. I’m just not waiting another moment.” With that, he shook off his jacket, ripped off his tie and practically shoved her onto the bed, using his elbows to keep him from crushing her small frame.
“Now where were we,” he said, lowering his head and crashing his lips into hers.
“Where’s the zipper,” he murmured, his hands wandering aimlessly.
“No. Zipper,” Luce gasped. “There’s a few little buttons on the back though.”
“Ok then.” He paused, took her hand, and flipped her so her back faced him.
Andy sat motionless, glaring at the long line of beadlike fasteners running down her back. “Are you kidding me?”
“Eh, no?” Luce tried not to laugh.
“Let’s get one thing clear, Luce Skye Porter,” he muttered. “No more buttons. Ever.”
With that he began gnashing his teeth and grumbling as he unbuttoned every single round little bead on the back of her gown. It was agonizing, for both of them. When he’d finally undone the last one, he slowly pushed the gown off her shoulders, letting it drop. Turning her back around, he swore softly.
“Damn I’m glad I skipped dessert.”
“Me too,” Luce whispered.
“Detective?” Luce murmured softly as she stretched her arms above her head.
“Yeah, right here,” Andy spoke from the doorway, where he stood holding two mugs. The sunlight streamed in, creating a halo around him.
“Coffee?”
“Uh huh. A little sweet, a little cream.”
“How did you know?”
“I texted Kat,” Andy laughed.
“Well points for that then. You can set it down though I’m not quite ready to get up. I think you gave me a hell of a workout last night. It’s been awhile,” Luce grinned.
“And I’m glad for that at least.” Andy set both cups down and slipped back into bed with her, wrapping his arm around her. Pulling her close.
“It was the best night of my life, Luce. I mean it.”
“Mine too.” Luce whispered softly.
“Luce?” He smiled softly.
“Andy?” she smiled in return.
“There’s something you need to know,” he smiled as he felt her stiffen.
“I’m almost certain I’m in love with you.”
“Almost?” Luce’s eyes widened. “You did not just say that!”
“Well, the thing is, it’s something Annie said. I don’t know if I can get past it.”
Luce huffed out a breath and pulled her arms across her chest.
“Spill it, detective.”
“You like ketchup on your eggs.”
“You will so pay for that,” Luce laughed, slapping him lightly on the chest.
“What do you think, you love me too?” Andy smiled hesitantly.
Luce looked over at Andy, then looked away, gathering her thoughts.
“I think I might.” She answered, equally hesitant.
“You think?”
Luce sighed and her expression sobered as she reached over to smooth a lock of hair off his forehead.
“I thought I’d lost you. That night, in the chamber. And it was as if someone ripped my heart out. Is that love Andy? Is this how much it can hurt? When Jack ghosted me, I hurt, but it was out of anger, not sorrow. The thought of losing you, even for a moment, isn’t something I can deal with. If you go back to work? What will I do? Is it wrong for me to want you not to?”
“So you do love me.” He grinned and leaned over and kissed her softly. Then pulled back and looked at her seriously. His lips pursed, he tipped his head as if in thought.
“How about I hang up that shingle instead. Andrew Holman, Attorney at Law.”
Luce widened her eyes in surprise. “Would you?” She was almost afraid to hope.
“I would, on one condition.”
Luce frowned. “What kind of condition,”
“The kind where you marry me?”
“What?”
“Marry me.” Andy’s voice was husky, and nervous. He couldn’t imagine this not going as planned.
“It’s too soon,” Luce whispered, eyes remaining wide.
“Ten years Luce, do you need another decade to decide?” He didn’t mean to snap, but there was no way he would back down.
She took a deep breath, searched his face, looking for something, anything, to hold her back.
“No, I mean, yes… I mean…”
“You know I love you right? And I gotta say, I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.” He smirked then, causing her to laugh out loud.
“It probably is, but Andy, it really is too soon. I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes. I’m saying let’s see where this takes us. OK?”
“You will eventually say yes though, right?” Andy practically growled then, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight.
Luce sighed. “I probably will, but right now you have a whole new career to launch, my sister’s on her honeymoon and pregnant with my first niece and I’ve got a show to finish up.”
“But we’ll take all this on together, right?”
“Yeah. I think together sounds perfect.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Luce fingered the envelope closure nervously. Molly hadn’t seemed too concerned about what was in her father’s research, but she was. The mystery of the ship may have been solved, but not the mystery of her sighting it years ago. Adeline Bowers had a reason. So did Andy. But Luce didn’t see any connection to her own life. Yet.
She’d waited until the afternoon to settle in and look through the emailed information. Admittedly that had nothing to do with nerves, and everything to do with her not being able to keep her hands off a really hot detective. When he went off with his dad to look at office spaces, she heaved a sigh of re
lief. She was still trying to process everything that had happened between them.
They’d made love three times the night before, and twice already that day. She shook her head realizing she might just be insatiable. Perhaps ten years of fighting it off finally drove them to the brink. Their connection wasn’t just physical either. It was as if they were meant to be together. They completed each other, she thought with a smile. Sappy, maybe. But true.
Sighing, she tried to focus on the matter at hand. Her family history. Sliding the papers out and laying them out on the kitchen table, she flipped through the first through looking for anything significant. Page one had her father’s original email and she paused, resting her fingers on his name in the signature line. Feeling a moment of sadness that he wasn’t here to be part of all of this.
He’d been asking, it appeared, about Execution Rocks and the Lighthouse that was built upon it. As she flipped through the pages, she began to notice a name that popped up frequently. He seemed to be looking into a Porter ancestor, Luke Porter, who was allegedly a spy in the revolution and an expert in explosives. Her father had been asking about a legendary ship that sank in 1790. He thought maybe Luke Porter was behind its demise.
“I’ll be damned,” Luce whispered, then jumped as she felt Andy’s hands on her shoulders. Leaning in for a kiss, he chuckled.
“What’s got you so nervous, babe,” he asked.
“Babe? Babe? Oh no, no no no. You will not ever call me babe.” Luce shook her head, laughing.
“Princess?”
“Nope,” Luce grinned.
“OK, then give me a minute. Honeybun?”
Luce turned around and swatted him on the chest.
“Then how about I just call you Sunshine.”
“It’ll do, detective. Now look at this. My dad thought his ancestor blew up the MorningStar. That somehow my great great great, well I don’t know how many greats, grandfather, Luke Porter, was connected to Lionel Bowers. And he hired him to sink the decoy ship. My father couldn’t have known it was a decoy.”
“May I?” he looked down at the papers she was holding, and she handed them over.
“You know this means my dad, at some point, believed me. He must have.” Luce contemplated that. She’d always thought he’d dismissed her as being highly imaginative. But somewhere along the way, he must have realized there was some truth to her story. Or did he see it as well?
“Look here,” Andy said, and laid one of the papers down, pointing his finger in the middle of the page. “He says that he believes Luke posed as a trader to purchase a female slave, and while on board the vessel, planted the explosives. And that he left with the woman, who stayed with him until she died.”
“As a slave?” Luce narrowed her eyes. “I hope not.”
“There’s one way to know, Luce, and that’s your family tree. Let’s get you a DNA test, upload it to a genealogy site and see what comes up.”
“Do I want to know?” Luce wondered aloud.
“Yes you do,” Andy said as he took a seat next to her. “You need to know.”
Luce nodded. “Ok. I’ll do it. Soon. I just need a little time to digest this. On the one hand, thinking my ancestor saved a young woman from slavery. On the other hand, finding out that maybe it was much more nefarious than that? That he took her and kept her in servitude? That’s a lot to process.”
“I kind of get that,” Andy chuckled. “I’m processing it too. You know, however it turns out, I have an idea you should start journaling all this. I think it has the makings of an important book.”
“Maybe someday. For now, I still have to figure it all out. The irony of it all is our society is so defined by race, when in reality, it’s all kind of a lie, isn’t it? I’m no more white than you are black. Neither of us would be considered a person of color, and neither of us understands what it is to live in their skin. I feel as if the North was no better than the South. And our history books make a mockery of the truth in some respects.”
“Not completely, but they do tell a story that perhaps is unique to one group of Americans. Certainly not all. Like Columbus discovering America. Except the indigenous people already had.”
“Or how about Kamala Harris being the first woman of color to run for VP?”
“How about it?”
“She wasn’t. Charlotta Bass was.”
“What?”
“Yep, 1952 Progressive Party.”
“Well damn, I didn’t know we had one back then. See Luce, that’s why you should write a book, once you know what really happened. These stories need to be told.”
Luce sighed. “OK, maybe someday. For now we’ve got a TV show to produce. One thing at a time. Now, moving on. Did you find an office?”
“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed her, impulsively.
“Spill it detective,” Luce grinned.
“Over on Main Street. Next to that Italian bakery. I signed a lease and now it just needs a few touches. I thought you could help.”
“OK. I can do that. When will you let them know you’re retiring?”
“I’m headed in tomorrow to meet with the Captain. He’ll understand.”
“As long as it’s truly what you want, Andy. Please don’t do this just for me, I couldn’t live with that.”
“It’s for me too. And Kat, and others like her Luce. It’s the right time.” He leaned in and kissed her again, this time lingering a bit longer.
“This means we’ll need to relocate, won’t we? I suppose I won’t mind commuting,” Luce sighed. “Plus I’ll be closer to Annie.”
“Or I can commute from the city if you prefer. Plenty of time to decide. And I like the way you said we.” Andy grinned.
Luce took a breath and studied his expression. She knew she loved him. With every fiber of her being. And while she wasn’t ready to start planning a wedding, part of her did want her fairy tale to come true. Like Annie, she had dreams too. She just hadn’t imagined they’d ever come true. Grinning back, she leaned into him and kissed him until they were both breathless.
“Come on lawyer man, let’s go christen that office of yours!”
“Anything for you Luce,” he whispered. “Anything.”
Epilogue
Luce sat comfortably ensconced in her reading chair, a wide, plush recliner built for two. It had been a gift from Andy. They’d temporarily relocated to his former clubhouse, now dubbed MorningStar Cottage. With Thanksgiving around the corner, she knew she had some decisions to make.
First and foremost, whether or not to renew her contract at KNNY. Andy’s idea of her becoming an author at first seemed silly, but now it was taking hold. She looked down at the letter she’d received from the New England Historical Society and sighed.
Dear Ms. Porter:
In response to your inquiry, we do have a significant amount of information in our archives relating to Luke Porter. Unfortunately, it has yet to all be digitized. I can tell you that he was certainly an interesting character, and there is much to be learned from his activities. It seems he was quite a mischief maker, particularly during the Revolution. Locals dubbed him the Cow Neck Rebel, in fact.
We do invite you to come to the NEHGS Library in Boston at your convenience, where we will be happy to assist your efforts.
Luce had read it over and over. Clearly she knew what she needed to do. It was a big step. One she’d need to discuss with Andy. But she knew he’d support her decision whatever it was. At least she hoped. It was his idea after all. The Porter family history was intertwined with American History, and she was destined to document it. The truth. The whole truth. Whether that would be to her benefit or detriment was yet to be seen. And ultimately, she knew, it wasn’t about her at all. There was a bigger cause in play. Stories that needed to be told.
As she settled it in her mind, her phone rang. Seeing it was Stuart, she answered.
“Hey boss, working on a Sunday, are you?”
“Actually, no, well, a bit.” Stuart chuckled. “
Alright, you caught me. I just spoke to Arnie over in Sales. We’ve been working on a project. One you might have an interest in. Didn’t want to tell you until we had a firm go.”
“I’m all ears,” Luce laughed. “But I should warn you I’ve got news, too. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Well, you might want to hear me out first,” Stuart replied with a friendly warning. “The newly formed Bowers Historical Foundation has offered to sponsor a new documentary series focusing on the history of the Gold Coast of Long Island. In particular on Cow Neck Peninsula and its role in the slave trade as well as the abolitionist movement.”
* * *
Maybe her mind wasn’t made up after all…
Also by MJ Miller
All About Annie
The Christoph Curse
Holiday Homecoming
* * *
Coming 2021
from Scarsdale Publishing:
The Luckland Ladies Mysteries
Acknowledgments
None of this would be possible without the unwavering support of my family. Putting up with my ridiculous tales and encouraging me to write them all down. And none of this would be worthwhile without the tremendous support of my readers.
Thank You!
About the Author
A lifelong teller of tales, MJ Miller grew up inspired and mentored by an entertaining collection of master storytelling matriarchs. Women who could spin a yarn better than anyone. A native New Yorker and mother of two amazing women, MJ and her fabulously supportive husband share their Tucson home with their resident feline genius, Darwin. A hopeless romantic, MJ loves to tell tales filled with romance, mystery and mayhem that keep the reader turning pages long into the night.
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