The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel

by Coverstone, Stacey

  “Where I sent you?”

  “Yes. I’m staying in your friend’s lighthouse.”

  “My friend’s…? What is my friend’s name, Miss Landers?”

  Sam realized she’d never been told the name of the person who owned the lighthouse. “Uh. I don’t know.”

  Dr. Teagan’s voice was laced with concern. “Is there any reason I should call 911?” she asked. “Perhaps you should give me your address.”

  “I’m not suicidal if that’s what you’re getting at,” Sam snapped and then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Dr. Teagan. I just need to talk. I’m having a rough day.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “All right. I’m more than happy to talk to you, Miss Landers. All we need from you is some basic information, such as your name, your insurance company, etc., and my receptionist will be glad to schedule an initial appointment.”

  “An initial appointment? I’ve been coming there for three months!” Sam dropped her face into her hands. It’s happening again.

  “That can’t be possible, Miss Landers. I’d remember you if you were my patient.”

  “But I—wait a minute. I know what will convince you. Please hold for a second.” She ran upstairs and grabbed the empty pill bottle from the bathroom trash can, ran back down the stairs, and excitedly said into the phone, “You prescribed medication for me. I’m holding the bottle right now. It has your name on it.” Samantha told her the name of the prescription as well as the pharmacy that filled it.

  “Please hold, Miss Landers.”

  After Sam waited impatiently for a couple of minutes and was thinking they’d been disconnected, the doctor returned to the line. “I’m sorry, but I have no record of prescribing that medication to you, nor does the pharmacy have a record of filling it.”

  Sam gnawed her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut, realizing she was talking in circles and getting nowhere. The curse, or nightmare, or whatever it was, obviously persisted, and it extended all the way to Portland. “Never mind,” she said, defeated. She hit the off button and tossed the phone onto the sofa. Dashing out the door, she headed north without a thought in her head except to escape the craziness.

  When it felt as though her lungs were going to burst from power walking through sand, she dropped to the ground and placed her head between her knees. Oblivious to whether anyone was nearby, and not caring one way or the other, she let the tears flow.

  “I can’t take this anymore,” she cried. “What’s wrong with me? Have I gone insane? Am I dead? Is this Hell? Please, someone help me.”

  Shaking and sobbing, she thought she heard her name being called, but she covered her ears thinking it was another hallucination. Seconds later, when powerful arms grabbed her under the armpits from behind and dragged her backwards, she was so terrified she couldn’t even scream. Kicking out with her feet and writhing like a snake, her only thought was to do whatever it took to get away from her attacker.

  Momentarily forgetting her kick boxing techniques, pure adrenaline raced through her veins and intuition took over. She gouged her elbow into the man’s rib and stomped on his shin with the heel of her shoe. He shouted an expletive and the two of them collapsed to the ground with her bundled in his arms. Samantha’s mouth gaped as a herd of horses thundered past them, kicking up sand, and continued galloping down the beach.

  Pressed against rock-hard muscle, she felt the even drumming of a heartbeat against her back. One hand was crossed protectively over her breast with the other around her stomach. Warm breath caressed her neck. The word “Sam” sent shock waves rocketing through her shaking body. Suddenly, she realized this was her savior, not a would-be rapist.

  “Are you okay, Sam?”

  How did he know her name? She untangled herself from his arms, twisted away, and crab-walked over the sand. When she flipped over and faced him, she was stunned to see a bare-chested Aidan on the ground in front of her. His hazel eyes were wide with fear, but it was his smooth, broad chest and rippled abs that captured her attention and wouldn’t let go.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated, rising to his feet and pulling her up from the ground by the hand.

  “Yes,” she nodded, finally ripping her gaze from the strip of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared into jeans that looked painted on. “Where’d you come from?” She met his panic-stricken gaze and pressed a hand over her wildly fluttering heart.

  “I live here.” He turned and pointed to the same stone cottage she’d seen through the spyglass. “I’ve been painting.” He angled his head toward the easel, which she hadn’t noticed until now. “I went inside for a minute. As I was returning to the beach, I heard horses’ hooves and saw you sitting out here. You must not have heard me call your name.”

  She’d heard, but she didn’t want to tell him she’d ignored the warning on purpose, thinking she’d been imagining another voice.

  “You didn’t hear the horses coming?” he asked.

  “No. I guess I was lost in thought.” Their gazes fused, with his eyes penetrated her like laser beams. “You saved my life,” she said.

  He smiled. “Guess I did. I’m glad I was at the right place at the right time.”

  Her limbs began shaking when the revelation sunk in that she’d be dead or mortally injured if it weren’t for him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “Your face looks a little pale.”

  “I honestly don’t know,” she answered in a strangled whisper. Never before had so many hot salty tears seeped from her eyes as they had since arriving in Pavee Cove. She wobbled.

  Aidan rushed forward and scooped her into his arms. “You might be going into shock. I’m going to get you into my house.”

  He carried her to the cottage as if she was as light as a piece of cotton. Samantha snuggled into his shoulder, stirred to life by gratitude and unexpected longing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As Aidan laid her on the sofa, Samantha inhaled his spicy scent. She’d smelled this cologne before—on Chad. Too lost in the intoxicating sensation of his warm touch on her skin to question the coincidence, she rested her head on the pillow he placed behind her.

  “I’m going to call the doctor,” he said.

  “Please don’t bother.” Her hand shot out and landed on his arm, which sent a river of heat bubbling through her veins. “I’ll feel better soon, after I rest a minute. Would you mind getting me a glass of water though? I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Of course. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  Her gaze was riveted as she watched him disappear around the corner into what must have been the kitchen. A cabinet door banged and the water started to run. Glancing around the living room, it was obvious a bachelor lived there. It was sparse, to say the least. The few pieces of furniture in the room looked used, but comfortable, including the sofa she lay on. The floor was hardwood with no rug covering it. A small television sat on a wooden table. Framed paintings hung on the walls. No sign of a dog.

  She scooted to a sitting position when Aidan reentered the room and handed her the glass of water. He’d thrown on a t-shirt somewhere between the kitchen and living room, which was disappointing.

  “Thank you,” she said after guzzling the cold water.

  “You’re welcome.” His eyes explored her face as if he were trying to memorize it.

  “Why are you looking at me that way?” She handed the glass back to him. Their fingers touched by accident, and she felt a spark jump between them.

  “Did you feel that?” he said, momentarily disregarding her question.

  “Yes. There must be a lot of static electricity in this room.”

  “That’s not it, and I think you know it.”

  She kept her gaze locked on his, knowing as well as he that the spark she’d felt had not been caused by static electricity.

  “Have we met before?” he asked, joining her on the other end of the sofa.

  Her giddy mood plummeted, along with the magical
moment. Don’t let it be happening again. He called out my name on the beach. He has to remember me. Please let him remember me. Anxiety tore at her chest like claws as she tried not to freak out. “We met yesterday, Aidan.”

  “I know, but have we ever met before that? I have the strangest sensation that I know you from somewhere.”

  Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, her strained muscles relaxed. Thank goodness he remembered her. But she wondered exactly what he remembered about their interaction up to this point. “I think I’d remember if we’d met before,” she said softly. “A man like you wouldn’t be easy to forget.”

  Grinning, he seemed to appreciate that answer.

  “The color is coming back to your face,” he said, letting the subject drop. “That was a close call.”

  Samantha felt heat creep into her cheeks. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I didn’t hear those horses galloping toward me. I guess I was in dreamland. Where did they come from anyway?”

  “They’re descendants of a group of wild horses that have lived at Pavee Cove for two hundred years. Legend tells us that a ship carrying European settlers and livestock wrecked on this coast sometime in the 1800s. More horses than people survived and they’ve flourished here ever since. It’s not often they run down the beach that way. They mostly stay in uninhabited areas. There are a few signs posted around as warnings to visitors and beach folk to be aware.”

  “I haven’t seen any signs. You could say I’ve been distracted. I’m so glad you were there to rescue me.” She shivered again and thought how close she’d come to losing her life. “Thank you again.”

  “It was my pleasure. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes.” Swinging her legs off the sofa, she stood up and sauntered around the room gazing at his paintings. There was one of the sea and the others were of landscapes, animals and people. “I thought you only painted seascapes.” She took special notice of the ones with people to see if there were any with little blonde girls painted in. There weren’t.

  “I like to mix it up every once in a while, but my favorite is still seascapes. The ocean is so alive and it literally changes from minute to minute.”

  Her eyes widened. She knew that feeling all too well. Her life had seemed to change from minute to minute ever since she arrived at Pavee Cove.

  “I can’t get enough of the sea,” he continued. “That’s why I bought this cottage, so I can work and live on the water. I think I was born with water flowing through my veins instead of blood.”

  She smiled, enthused and attracted by his ardor. “You told me you lived here when you were a young boy. Did you have a house in the village at the time?”

  He seemed surprised. “I told you I lived in Pavee Cove?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She knew she hadn’t dreamt that conversation.

  “I don’t recall mentioning that,” he replied, scrubbing a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh well. My memory’s not the greatest.”

  Sighing quietly, she’d heard the story about the elephant and his excellent memory, but there was no point in bringing it up.

  “To answer your question, my mom and I stayed in a little place on the southern end of the beach. Only the rich folks lived in the village in those days.”

  Samantha felt an invisible hand squeeze her throat. The south end was where she’d seen the face in the window of the shack. It was another coincidence that gave her pause. Afraid to ask him exactly where he and his mother had lived, she asked instead, “Where did you and your mother go when you left Pavee Cove?”

  His brows drew downward, and his gaze dropped to his lap. “We moved around quite a bit for several years. It’s hard to keep track, even now. Those times jumble together.” It must have been a touchy subject because he hopped up and clapped his hands, changing the topic abruptly. “Are you hungry? I’m starved. There’s some turkey and cheese in the fridge. I can make us a couple of sandwiches.”

  There was nothing for her to rush back to the lighthouse for, and she was enjoying Aidan’s company. Besides, her nerves had stopped jumping and her stomach grumbled, so she accepted.

  He invited her to follow him to the kitchen where he took sandwich fixings from the refrigerator and began creating works of art out of the meat and bread. Sam peered around, still looking for signs of a dog and found none in the kitchen either. Not wanting to upset the apple cart by bringing up the name Paddy again, she decided to let it go, too. Maybe that whole scene with him and the dog had been a dream. She stared at his broad back. Although she knew in her heart that it had actually taken place, she didn’t want to think about it right now. Her skin prickled with excitement in the company of this man, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

  He offered her a chair at the small table and set a paper plate in front of her. The sandwich was stacked so high it resembled a high-rise building.

  “I think my sandwich alone could feed an army,” she joked, trying to decide how she was going to wrap her mouth around it and still look lady-like. Femininity had not mattered much before, but today it did.

  “You could use a little more meat on your bones,” he said nonchalantly, before ripping off a hunk of sandwich with his perfect teeth.

  She couldn’t help but smile and attacked hers without another thought of how she’d be perceived. Bite after delicious bite, the food gave her a second wind. She’d have to eat regularly from now on, and strive to become more health conscious. Maybe a better diet, as well as no more pills would help her mental state. You are what you eat, Chad used to tease after she’d make a run to the nearest fast-food restaurant to grab a burger and a soft drink. She always believed he had more energy than her, and a more positive outlook on life in general—something she intended to change in herself.

  “I was hungrier than I thought,” she told Aidan, patting her stomach after devouring three-fourths of the sandwich. “That was good. I’m going to modify my eating and cooking habits to include more fresh fruit and vegetables, starting today. I’ve taken my health for granted for the past few years. It’s time I made some big changes.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.” He collected their plates and dropped them into the trash. “After all, you are what you eat.”

  Her jaw went slack, and the blood in her veins turned to ice.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “This is just too weird.”

  “What is?”

  “Chad used to tell me the exact same thing. How bizarre is that?”

  “It’s not so bizarre. It’s a phrase that’s used a lot. Don’t read too much into it.”

  She did and couldn’t help it.

  “Great minds think alike,” Aidan said. “No disrespect intended,” he added quickly. “Since your friend is in a coma.”

  “None taken.” She released a small breath of air, thankful that he remembered that about Chad. Although the similarities between the two men were eerie, she was beginning to think of Aidan as his own man and not a clone of Chad. She had to, if she was going to completely relax around him.

  “Would you like to see my studio?” he asked, to change the topic once again.

  “Sure.”

  The sun porch that he’d turned into his studio was light and airy—and messy. It was definitely an artist’s haven. She admired the paintings on the wallsand when she asked, he explained his technique and talked about the importance of color, texture and mood in a painting. It was obvious that creating art was his love and his life.

  The barking of a dog outside interrupted their banter. Aidan peeked out the window and his grin widened. “Come on. There’s someone out there I want you to meet.” He grasped Samantha’s hand and led her through the kitchen and out the back door.

  Her mouth parted at the sight of Jason Murphy holding a leash that was attached to the collar of a rowdy German shepherd dog. “Paddy,” Sam whispered under her breath as the dog barked again and jumped on Aidan.

  “Get down, Jason commanded, jerki
ng on the leash. “Don’t let him do that, Aidan. You know I’m trying to train him to have manners.”

  “Sorry.” Aidan laughed and let the dog lick his chin before extricating its huge paws from his chest.

  Once Jason got the dog to sit, Aidan made the introductions. “Samantha, this is Jason Murphy. He and his mom own the—”

  “I know him,” Sam interjected. Her curious gaze swung between Jason, the dog, and Aidan, and landed back on Jason. “I thought you didn’t know Aidan,” she said pointedly. “Your mother told me she’d never heard of him before.” Anger flared in the pit of her stomach at having been deceived. “I knew she was lying to me. But why?” She squinted at Jason with accusation, and from the wounded look on his face she knew she’d hurt his feelings but didn’t care.

  “I…I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stuttered. His lips drew tight. “We’ve known Aidan for a long time.”

  “No you haven’t!” she exclaimed. “I specifically asked your mother at the restaurant if she knew him and she said no. Which of you is telling the truth and which of you is a liar?”

  The dog started to whine. When Jason smacked him on the head, Sam shouted, “Don’t hit Paddy!”

  “Who’s Paddy?” he asked in his simple way.

  “This dog.” She jabbed her finger into the dog’s thick fur.

  “His name isn’t Paddy. This is Bowzer.”

  Samantha’s voice climbed an octave, and she felt her nerves twang. “Bowzer? You’re kidding me, right? Stop it. This dog’s name is Paddy!” She whirled toward Aidan. “You know this is Paddy, don’t you?”

  When she clenched her fist, Aidan gripped her arm and held fast. “Hold on a minute, Sam. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but there’s no need to lose your temper and shout at Jason. Or at me.”

  “Paddy’s a stupid name for a dog,” Jay mumbled.

  She shot daggers at him with her eyes. What kind of fool did they think she was? Wrenching free from Aidan’s hold, she glared at him. “Are you telling me you know this man?”

  Aidan’s tone was composed. “Yes, of course. Everyone in the cove knows the Murphy family.”