As promised, Logan pulled out seconds before his release and shouted her name. She fell against him in a quivering heap, exhausted but more satisfied than she had ever thought possible. Just when she thought he would put her down, he carried her with him to the shower. Turning the water on, he kissed her sensually until it was hot,then they slowly washed each other off and made love yet again in a lazy delicious way.
A half hour later, he wore only boxers and she wore a skimpy silk robe with nothing beneath. “You hungry?” she asked.
“Starving,” he said, his gaze still heated making her blush as it slowly traced over every inch of her, and she realized he was still just as hungry for her.
She wasn’t supposed to let things get this far again. Not because of a possible pregnancy—babies didn’t scare her—but because of how he’d reacted after they’d made love the last time. She certainly didn’t need for him to make her feel like the most desirable woman on earth one minute and then like she was a bottom feeder the next, not worthy of a single phone call. But he was so damned sexy.
He had the most amazing body, gorgeous thick curly hair, and a sexy as hell constant five o’clock shadow. It wasn’t fair. She was powerless against him. But what concerned her the most was the intense feelings he brought out in her that had nothing to do with sex. She wanted to make him happy and pleasure him and comfort him, putting his needs before her own, and that scared the hell out of her.
Only, unlike him, she wasn’t running.
Deciding not to dwell on what might happen, she said, “I have fresh caught fish, fixings for a big salad, and white wine chilling in the fridge.”
“I didn’t take you for the fishing type.”
“You’d be correct. That would require getting down and dirty.”
His eyes grew hooded. “Now that I’ve seen firsthand.”
“What can I say, I have skills,” she thrust a finger at him, “but not when it comes to fishing, silly man. Don’t you know I have connections? I’m a journalist. I have my sources. It doesn’t matter where I go, I usually find a way to get what I want.”
“I’ll bet you do.” He smiled tenderly.
She cleared her throat. No matter how much of a smartass she was, he always found a way to turn the conversation into a sweet and sincere one. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to lose her heart and that wouldn’t be good for either of them. “Okay, then, let’s get started.” She decided to focus on the lighter topic of their evening meal.
They cooked dinner together, with her making the salad and him grilling the fish out on the patio. She carried the salad and wine out to join him so they could stare out at the ocean that felt more and more like coming home as they ate in silence, both fully aware the sex had ended and feelings were brimming beneath the surface. When they were finished, they opened their treasure box and read the letters eagerly. Anything to avoid a conversation that might get too heavy. They both sat quietly for a moment, reflecting on the new knowledge they had discovered.
“That’s it?” Emma finally asked, her mind refusing to accept the facts.
“I’m afraid so,” Logan answered in a low voice that sounded both sad yet somehow relieved. “There’s no map.” He shrugged.
“But that can’t be it. We don’t know what happened yet. We don’t know all the facts,” Emma said almost desperately. “Did William come back the next day and catch them? Is that why Joseph went missing and why Kathleen vanished? Did William kill them both and then hide their bodies like he had his first love? Or did they escape together and start over, never to be heard from again? I have to know what happened. The town records are too vague, and there are no more letters. This can’t be it. Their love was too beautiful. It can’t end this way.” She shook her head and fought to hold back her tears. It was silly crying over a story from the past, yet she couldn’t help herself. She felt too connected to it, as if it affected her own future and happiness.
After a long pause, Logan spoke. “Sometimes things end whether we want them to or not.” He frowned down into his glass of wine, and Emma could tell he was remembering his wife. She could feel him pulling away from her already.
“Wait, what about the map I found in the water? I think that might be the final map we’re missing.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
“Because that map’s corner was ripped off. We don’t know where their final meeting spot was supposed to take place, which means we have no way of finding out anything more about them.” Logan’s eyes met hers. “You have to face facts, Emma. Their story’s over. We’ll never know what really happened to them.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing once. “It’s over.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “What if they didn’t want it to be over?” she bravely blurted, suddenly not talking about Joseph and Kathleen.
Logan stared at her for a long moment, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but then he didn’t. He stared out over the ocean, far away from her, as he said, “Maybe they didn’t have a choice. Just like we don’t have a choice that our adventure is over as well.”
This time she was the one to pause. Staring in shock and disbelief, she finally managed to ask in a small quiet voice, “Just like that?” Emma fought the tears battling to flood her eyes, but it was getting increasingly difficult as reality slapped her in the face.
Logan steeled his features and finally responded, “Unfortunately, yes. Just like that.” He stood and picked up their dirty dishes. “Speaking of over, the summer is almost over. All good things must come to an end.” He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. “I think I’ll leave in the morning to join my in-laws and Trevor for a week before he has to go back to school. I have the time, and we’re overstaffed.” He stared at his dishes for a moment before meeting her gaze with guilt and pity warring within it. “Thank you, Emma.”
“For what?” she could barely talk, but she’d be damned if she’d break down in front of him.
“For one hell of an adventure. If it wasn’t for you, I would still be stuck in a rut, but now I think I’m going to be okay for the first time.” Sincerity rang through in his tone, and she couldn’t blame him for her misguided hopes and foolish schoolgirl dreams. He’d never made any promises to her and had let her know right from the start exactly who he was.
“No worries,” she flicked her wrist in his direction as if it was no big deal, and she finished with, “what are friends for, right?” She’d never been a coward and had always been one to speak her mind and tell it like it is, but once again, she wanted Logan to be happy. If he couldn’t handle her or a relationship or whatever the hell was between them, then she had to let him go and set him free. That’s what being in love was all about: making the other person happy. She could relate to everything Kathleen must have felt.
He hesitated a beat, giving Emma a fraction of hope, but then he said, “Right. Want me to do the dishes?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the crushing weight of his rejection. “Nah, I’ll throw them in the dishwasher. I’m going to finish my wine out here while I watch the sun go down. You can let yourself out. Say hi to Trevor for me, and remember, if you get the story wrong, I’ll be sure to fill him in.”
Logan chuckled softly. “I’m sure you will.” And then he walked away, out of her life, gone for good.
She held in the sobs until she heard him dress and the front door close with such finality, she knew that was the end for them. Whatever was between them was over, and she was once more alone. He was leaving her like Mark had.
Guess she really wasn’t good enough or lovable after all.
“Screw it!” Emma said to herself in the rear-view mirror of her Mercedes as she drove down Coastal Ridge road away from her beach house. She’d never been one to wallow in self-pity, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
She’d been all packed and ready to go home, wanting to leave before Logan returned from his week away because fac
ing him would be too hard, but she couldn’t leave yet. She owed it to Kathleen Connor to set the record straight. That meant Emma couldn’t go anywhere until she discovered the rest of Kathleen’s story.
Emma had to admit with the distraction of Logan gone, she could finally think more clearly. She’d thought hard, but couldn’t come up with anything other than Kathleen’s cottage. It was a long shot, but that was where Emma had found the original wooden box. Maybe Kathleen’s nephew had missed something. It was worth the time to at least look, except her nephew had left town and Emma didn’t want to wait. She was desperate and determined and Dr. Worrywart wasn’t here to stop her.
Pulling into the driveway of the cottage at 137 Coastal Ridge Road, Emma cut the engine to her car and looked around. The lot was empty. Perfect. The property was for sale now so technically anyone could come by at any moment, but Emma was willing to take that risk. She threw caution to the wind and tried the front door. Locked. She tried a few windows, but those were locked as well. She even walked out back onto the deck and tried the back door, but that was locked up tight, too. Except that lock didn’t look like it had been replaced with a sturdier one like the front one had.
Emma chewed her bottom lip. She could work with this. She remembered one of her informants she was particularly fond of. He’d been hot as hell, but even she had scruples. She’d drawn the line at dating shady people, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t come in handy. He’d shown her how to pick a lock to perfection. Pulling a bobby pin from her hair, she crouched down on her knees and got to work. It didn’t take long before the lock clicked. Stuffing the pin back in her hair, she stood and opened the door.
Emma left the door open to better hear if anyone pulled up. She’d been to the cottage before but had never stepped foot inside. The air felt charged as if Kathleen were still there.
Emma didn’t believe in ghosts, but she did believe in fate and that everything happened for a reason. She was somehow meant to be on this journey and to finish this quest. She’d felt drawn to Kathleen’s story right from the start, the same way that something had pulled her back to the cottage.
Emma felt at peace as she walked around the kitchen and living room. The cottage was small but quaint, consisting of only one big room that housed the kitchen and living room, with a small bedroom and bathroom in the back. The furniture looked as if it were ancient, the knickknacks antiques, like no one had bothered to replace anything. Emma entered the bedroom, then turned around and noticed it faced the front door.
If you left the door open, the bed was in plain view of whoever walked into the cabin. All Emma could think about was this was where Kathleen had stood when William came barging into her cabin and fought with Joseph. Emma shuddered, feeling the fear Kathleen must have felt. Emma shivered, thinking Kathleen must have been one brave woman.
Needing some air, Emma headed to the window and opened it, taking a deep breath. After a moment, she closed the window and started to walk out of the room when the floorboards creaked beneath her sandaled feet. She paused and looked down. It looked perfectly normal if you weren’t paying attention, but she always paid attention to the small details. It was her job, enabling her to notice things the average person didn’t.
Kneeling down, she inspected the board closer. The wood was weathered and old. Some of the nails had rusted and come loose from many boards, but these looked as if they had been pried out and carefully returned. It didn’t take much work to lift the nails back out with the same bobby pin she had used to break in with. Once she had the nails out, the board groaned with protest but finally came loose. After lifting it away, Emma smiled with satisfaction.
Another box.
Gently rescuing her treasure from its burial spot, Emma leaned against the wall and slowly opened the box with anticipation. She exhaled a huge sigh of relief when she saw another letter. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She thought of how excited Logan would be, but then just as quickly thought of how easily he’d given up on her…on them. Their quest might not be over, but they surely were. Emma stubbornly raised her chin and opened the letter without him. He didn’t deserve to see how their adventure ended.
Except nothing could have prepared her for what was to come.
17
August, 1943: Beacon Bay, Maine
Joseph checked one last time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He’d sent word to Kathleen to meet him at their favorite lighthouse on the far corner of Beacon Bay. You could see the same lighthouse from her cottage, as well as the marina. He’d spent many a night on his boat, staring at that lighthouse and finding solace in the fact that she was looking at the same thing. They’d made a pact to stop and look at it at 10 p.m. every evening, no matter where they were or who they were with or what they were doing. Joseph hadn’t missed a single night, and it made him feel close to Kathleen always.
Excitement filled him with the thought that now they would finally be together. He would meet her at the lighthouse and his boat would be waiting with enough supplies to take them away from Beacon Bay forever. They could pick anywhere they wanted to live and start over. He’d avoided William, not willing to risk another confrontation, and his mother as well, not wanting to explain how he’d gotten the black eye and fat lip.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of William. He’d been through far worse. It was more about his desire to do real harm to William for what he had done to Kathleen. The last thing she needed was more trouble, so Joseph would take the high road and walk away. The important thing was spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved. Once they were settled someplace, he would write to his mother and let her know he was okay, but not before then. She would only try to stop him.
Sneaking out of his parents’ house before they could ask questions, he slipped away to the marina. He glanced at the sky and frowned. Storm clouds were rolling in, and a strange feeling of doom swept over him. As a boat crafter, an avid sailor, and a soldier of the Navy who’d lived through the hell of war, he’d long ago learned to heed the warning sirens going off in his head. Not this time. Joseph and Kathleen couldn’t wait, not with William knowing they were lovers. He’d seen the look in the man’s eye. William wouldn’t stop harassing them until he got his revenge. They needed to leave tonight no matter what the weather.
Joseph slipped onto his boat and stored his belongings. When everything was secure, he untied the vessel and glanced fondly at the shore where he and Kathleen had buried their love letters. He would miss Beacon Bay and even his family. It was home and always would be, but his happiness was more important, and he would do anything to put a smile back on his beloved’s angelic face.
Pushing away from the shore, he pulled out of the harbor without looking back. The wind had picked up and the waves were growing bigger by the hour, but he knew how to handle a boat. His palms grew sweaty and his heart started beating faster, but not from fear. He was so excited to start this next journey in life. They’d waited so long to be together. Freely be together with no more sneaking around.
It was finally their time.
He rounded the bend and pulled into a spot further down the shoreline where the lighthouse sat. Kathleen would be able to walk or get a ride to the lighthouse just as soon as she could. In the meantime, he would make preparations to meet her. He docked his boat on the backside of the lighthouse, facing the open ocean, where no one from the bay could see it.
This lighthouse was the oldest one used in their small bay, yet held the most charm. The newer lighthouses were pristine white with red or blue accents, attached to the lighthouse keeper’s house. This lighthouse consisted of an old stone tower with a glassed-in lantern room at the top, containing the lamp and lens meant to be used as a navigational aid to sailors. It was the lighthouse keeper’s job to make sure the lantern never went out so ships wouldn’t lose their way, becoming lost at sea.
Joseph had always found lighthouses fascinating, listening intently to his father’s stories when he was little. Anci
ent lighthouses consisted of fires set in high places for sailors to see and had evolved with the invention of vaporized oil burners followed by the use of gas as an illuminant, but the world was changing rapidly. Joseph often felt like he couldn’t keep up. He had grown up and gone off to war, only to come back and see modern technology taking over in a furious way. He could only imagine what the future had in store for so many things.
This lighthouse was still used but it hadn’t been maintained like it should have been. The house in the back had been rundown, and the lighthouse keeper no longer stayed there. He didn’t need to as long as he kept watch from his home down the shore and kept checking on the lighthouse periodically, which made it a perfectly safe place for Joseph to meet Kathleen without being disturbed.
Besides, it held such a special meaning for them both. It had been their beacon of hope for a long time now, doing its job of guiding them safely home into each other’s arms where they belonged. Scanning the area, there was no one in sight. Joseph made his way up the rocky cliff, choosing to venture inside the lighthouse just in case the heavens opened up and poured down upon them. The ever-darkening sky threatened to do just that as Joseph walked into a tower structure supporting the lantern room where the light operated. He wandered the entire area, looking around with reverence every step of the way.
A set of stone stairs spiraled up to the lantern room, the glassed-in area at the top of a lighthouse tower containing the lamp and lens. The metal cupola roof had a lightning rod and grounding system that provided a safe conduit for any lightning strikes. This safe haven had been the perfect place for he and Kathleen to watch the impressive summer storms across the ocean. But tonight, he needed the seas to cooperate. Their escape was nerve-racking enough. He prayed Mother Nature was on their side.
Until Tomorrow Page 19
