Marc knelt beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a weird latch or something here.” She tugged on it but nothing happened.
“Let me try.”
His warm fingers brushed hers, and she pulled her hands back and moved away a few inches. He ran his hands over the bottom, then looked at the chest from the side. “I think there’s a false bottom.”
Her pulse leaped. “Maybe the diaries are in there. These toys are old. Look at that Tinkertoy set. They might have belonged to the Hurley twins.” She told him about the missing diaries. “I mean, it’s not a big deal, but I love history, and it would be fun to read about her life. I’d love to find them.”
He nodded. “Let me see if I can figure out how to raise it without ruining the chest. It looks quite valuable.”
He bent to his task and pulled on the latch. Nothing happened. “Got a screwdriver handy?”
“No, but try this.” She handed him her key chain.
He took one of the skeleton keys and slipped it under the latch, then pried gently. There was a clicking sound, and one edge of the bottom popped up. He moved to the other side and did the same to the nearly invisible latch there. In moments, the bottom was loose.
He handed the keys back to her. “Let me lift it out of the way.”
Josie clambered onto her lap and watched with interest. “It’s a secret place?”
“It is indeed.” Elin was afraid to hope there might be something important under there.
Marc slid his fingers under each end of the bottom and lifted. The material appeared fragile, and she prayed it didn’t break. His hands caught on one side, and he paused to go more slowly, lifting first one end out of the way, then the other.
When he laid the false bottom on the floor, she leaned over the chest to peer inside. A gauzy material covered the contents, and it looked like it might tear at the slightest touch. She gently peeled back the layers to reveal three bound leather books.
“It’s just books, Mommy. Dusty old books.” Josie sounded disgusted. She scooted off Elin’s lap and picked up the round box of Tinkertoys. “Can I play with these?”
“Sure.” Elin couldn’t take her eyes off the books. They had to be the diaries.
She picked up the first one and opened the cover. The fine leather was soft in her hands. The inside pages were yellow and a little brittle. She turned to the next page.
Georgina Hurley 1907
Elin closed the book. She would read it during her resting times. It might help her stay awake. She hated sleeping because of the nightmares.
She yanked on the bedroom door, but it wouldn’t budge. He’d locked her in with that music blaring. He knew she hated the song “The Cold Hard Facts of Life.” She shuddered as the Porter Wagoner lyrics about murder twanged their way down her spine.
She kicked the door, and pain shot up her leg. “Let me out of here!”
A knife blade slid under the door. “Sure you want me to open the door?” His voice sounded gleeful and way too happy about the fear in her voice.
She stepped back and looked around for a weapon. The heavy lamp would have to do. “You don’t scare me.” The thump of her heart told a different story. She grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the police!”
The knife disappeared. “You’d better not, Laura.” His voice was cold. “I might just turn my attention to Sammie.”
The blood froze in her veins. She stepped closer and pressed her forehead against the door. “You wouldn’t.”
But he would. She knew what he was capable of. The cell phone fell from her fingers and thumped onto the carpeted floor. “I won’t call. Just go away and leave me alone.”
The lock clicked, and she heard his footsteps clack rapidly away along the wood floor. The front door banged. She waited until she heard his truck engine rev up and pull out of the drive before she grabbed her cell phone and called her sister.
Sweat slicked Elin’s skin, and she bolted upright in bed. Another nightmare. She rubbed her throat and swallowed. Just to be on the safe side, she padded down the hall and checked on her daughter and mother. Both slept, unaware of the storm rolling in off the ocean. She went back to her bed, unwilling to sleep again. Her gaze went to the diaries.
Flashes of lightning lit her bedroom as she snuggled under the sheet and opened the first diary. She’d been dying to read it, and she wasn’t about to go back to sleep and fall into that nightmare again.
Written in my hand, February 3, 1907. Georgina Hurley
The February wind blew through Georgina’s thin coat as she stepped off the ship onto Seagrass Pier and surveyed her new home for the first time. Her blood wasn’t used to such dampness and cold, though Joshua had assured her it was nearly forty-five here today.
Joshua saw her shiver and wrapped his greatcoat around her. “We’ll soon be inside, love.”
She thanked him with a smile. He towered above her five-two height by at least a foot, and his dark good looks attracted every lady in his sphere. She’d been astonished when he began to call after dining at one of her father’s soirees. When he’d asked her to marry him, she quickly accepted, and their marriage of six months had been quite harmonious. Most of the time.
But she didn’t like the way her life was about to change. Joshua hadn’t listened to her pleas either.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “It’s a far cry from Cambodia, isn’t it?”
“Very different.” Her eyes took in the magnificent house towering over the sand dunes that seemed to go on forever. Three stories high, it was crowned with a lacy black railing and a cupola. The grand porch wrapped around one side, and the soft gray-green color seemed to blend into the hillside. The shutters could be closed to typhoon winds and storms. It had been built to withstand anything nature could throw its way.
She sent an appealing glance up at her handsome husband. “It’s beautiful, Joshua, but I don’t want to stay here. I want to go with you.”
Impatience flickered in his eyes. “I know, I know.” He offered her his arm and escorted her up the boardwalk to the house. “A ship is no place for a woman in a delicate condition. We both know that, Georgina.”
He rarely used her name, preferring instead to call her love or darling. He must be displeased at her complaint. What would it take to get him to see she wasn’t some shrinking violet of a woman but one used to making her own way in the world? She’d discovered new plants and had been places most women would be much too timid to venture. When was the last time she’d even been in the States? Ten years ago, perhaps?
She stepped into the house. A grand hall led to a large room on one side and a dining space on the other. A huge walnut staircase gleamed in the afternoon light. A fire coaxed her into the large parlor, and she shed her coat and approached the fireplace. “It’s quite beautiful.”
His expression was pleased as he surveyed the house. “The builder did a fine job. This is the first I’ve seen the completed structure myself.”
She turned at a commotion in the entry. Four men lugged in her chests and luggage. “I should find our room so they can stow my belongings.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “The housekeeper will do that. You’re a lady of leisure now, my dear. You must not infringe on the duties of our staff.” He motioned to the unsmiling, middle-aged woman who appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Winston, our belongings have arrived. Please get them unpacked. Oh, and we’re ready for tea and some sandwiches.”
Georgina pressed her lips together at his tone and moved so his hand fell away. She liked this less and less.
“Of course, Captain Hurley.” She curtsied and turned to speak to someone in the room behind her, then scurried to lead the sailors up the large staircase.
A few minutes later a housemaid in a white apron and cap carried in a tray of tea and sandwiches. Georgina made sure to give her an extra-warm smile. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
The maid, about seventeen with ruddy cheeks and bright-blue eyes, bobbed.
“I’m Susan, Mrs. Hurley.”
“I’m sure we will get along very well, Susan.” Georgina removed her hat and placed it on the table by the sofa. “Is there sugar?” She’d developed quite a sweet tooth since her pregnancy.
“Yes, ma’am.” Susan set the tray on the table in front of the sofa.
“I’ll pour myself.” Georgina moved to the table.
“Of course.” Susan bobbed again, then practically ran for the kitchen.
She frowned at her husband. “Have you been terrorizing the servants? They seem quite timid.”
“I made it clear when I hired them that I expect nothing but the best service. It’s as it should be. I don’t want you making friends of them either. They need to keep to their place, and you need to keep to yours. No fraternizing like you did aboard ship.”
She curled her fingers into the palms of her hands and took a deep breath. “Joshua, you need to understand who I am. I’m not like your mother or your sister. I’m quite competent to do things for myself. I refuse to be some kind of matriarch who throws her weight around. I simply won’t do it.”
He blinked at her vehemence, and his mustache quivered, a sure sign of his displeasure. “You have a new role to fulfill, Georgina. You’re my wife now. You’ll soon be the mother of my child as well. I realize it will take some time for you to adjust to your new position, but there will be plenty of time here in the house to figure it out.”
He wasn’t listening to her. She fought the rising sense of frustration. His expectations were something she couldn’t meet. She didn’t want to be anyone other than herself. Her father had allowed her to travel with him all over the world, and she didn’t take kindly to being relegated to such a constricted life.
But what were her options? She loved Joshua. Did that mean she needed to change herself, become some other person? Why couldn’t he accept her for who she was?
NINE
The diary’s cover was smooth and worn in Elin’s fingers when she closed it. How many years had Georgina written in it? How many times had she picked it up and flipped through its pages? Elin glanced around the bedroom. It had been built with its own indoor bathroom right from the beginning, though bathrooms weren’t that common back in 1907. This had likely been Georgina’s room too. Had she sat by herself on her bed while the thunder rattled the windows and the wind threw whitecaps onto the sand? Had she ever been frightened living out here without her husband?
“What are you reading, honey?” Her mother stood in the doorway to Elin’s bedroom. She wore pink curlers in her hair and a black nightgown. Her eyes were bright and alert. It was a good night.
“The storm woke you?” Elin patted the bed beside her. “This diary belonged to the original owner of the house. It’s very interesting.”
Her mother crawled onto the bed. “Who was she?”
Elin told her about Georgina and her adjustment to her new role. “I sympathize with what she was going through. I don’t know who I am anymore either. I’m a widow, but I don’t feel my life is over. I love my job, but lately I feel adrift from it, ever since my heart transplant.” Her chest felt heavy.
Her mother’s blue eyes softened. “I remember when I married your father. I’d had all these dreams of going to medical school and becoming a doctor. There were times after you and Abby were born when I wondered where that dreamy-eyed girl had gone. What had happened to all those plans?”
Elin had never heard her talk about that big of a dream. “Did you talk to Dad about it? You could have gone back to school.”
Her mom nodded. “He didn’t understand why I wasn’t content with raising our two girls and being a mom. We grew up in the era of Leave It to Beaver. Your dad thought that should be enough, but I wanted more than washing dishes and taking cupcakes to school parties. I wanted to make a difference.”
“You made a difference in my life and in Abby’s.” Elin took her mother’s hand. “You volunteered a lot. And you got a job when I was ten or eleven.”
“As a receptionist. Quite a comedown from my dream of being a doctor.”
“I never knew you were unhappy.”
“I never said I was unhappy.” Her mother settled back against the pillow. “That’s not what I meant. Contentment is found in your heart, Elin. It’s not in a profession or in a relationship. Your roles don’t define who you are. You define your roles. How you approach the different roles in your life is something you figure out for yourself. They don’t make you someone different from who you are at your core. I realized when you were about eleven that no one else could be your mom but me. No one else could teach you values but me. I was glad I’d stuck it out.”
Elin contemplated her mother’s words. They held a lot of wisdom, but they didn’t answer the questions she had about how she’d changed since her heart transplant. Did Laura’s memories change her? Did having different tastes mean she was more like Laura and less like herself? She didn’t know anymore.
“Didn’t you regret your decision?”
Her mother shook her head. “Not in the least. I could have gone to school when you went off to college, but by then I found my interests had changed. We evolve as women. Let yourself grow, honey. It’s okay.”
The phone on the bedside table rang, and she picked up the handset and looked at it. Unknown. That could mean a telemarketer, or it could mean her office was calling. She was tempted to let it go to voice mail, but it might be important. There might be a new donor she needed to find recipients for.
She clicked it on. “Hello.” There was only silence on the other end. “Hello?” She pulled the handset away from her ear and looked at it. She appeared to still be connected. She put it back to her ear and said hello again. This time she heard the faint strain of music playing.
Her throat tightened. Was that a Phantom of the Opera tune? She couldn’t tell for sure. Maybe it was her imagination. Before she could freak out, she clicked the phone off and practically threw it back onto its base.
“Who was that?”
Thunder rattled the windows, and Elin jumped. “No one was there.”
“Then why are your eyes so big? And your mouth is trembling like you’re scared.”
“The storm has made me jumpy. That’s all.” That had to be all it was. It was likely her imagination that the music was the same. She’d heard it over and over in her head ever since he’d broken in. She was seeing danger around every corner, just like that silly note.
She was perfectly safe here.
The next morning Elin felt heavy and slow from lack of sleep. She sat on a beach towel under a dome of blue sky and watched Josie build a sand castle with her grandmother. Mom’s eyes were as clear as the sky above, and she chattered with Josie as if she’d never called her by the wrong name. If Elin could only freeze this moment for all time. The scent of the sea, the squawk of the seagulls, and the warmth of the sun would be poignant reminders of a perfect day free from worry.
Mom squinted in the sun, then rose and dusted the sand from her hands. “We have a visitor.”
Elin twisted to see Kalianne Adanete climb out of a dinghy at the dock in the tiny crescent of harbor. Elin got up and pulled on her cover-up as the nurse’s aide approached with a smile. The woman had an air of competence in spite of her youth and attractiveness. Her denim skirt showed off shapely legs, and she wore her blond hair in a French knot.
Why did she feel such relief at the thought of help? This was her dear mother. Caring for her shouldn’t feel like such a burden. The problem was, she was so afraid of failing her.
As the woman neared, Elin held out her hand. “Thanks for coming right away. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
“I was thrilled to get the call.” Kalianne shook her hand, then turned to smile at Elin’s mom. “Hello, Ruby. You look like you’re having a good time.”
“Josie and I are making a sand castle.” The older woman’s hand swept over the sand turrets and moat. “I remember you. You’re one of Elin’s friends
from high school. Mary, isn’t it?” She frowned disapprovingly. “You were always a bad influence on Elin. I’m sorry I had to forbid her from running around with you.”
Elin’s throat tightened. She should have known the clouds in her mother’s eyes wouldn’t stay gone for long. “You remember Kalianne, Mom. She’s going to spend some time here and help us find fun things to do.”
Her mother’s nod was uncertain, and she turned her back to rejoin Josie at the sand castle.
Elin motioned for the aide to join her a few feet away where they couldn’t be overheard. “She was doing really well all day until now.”
Kalianne patted her arm. “It’s all right. May I call you Elin, or would you prefer Mrs. Summerall?”
She so liked this young woman. Her confidence strengthened Elin’s courage. “Oh yes, please call me Elin. We’re going to be seeing quite a lot of one another.”
Kalianne glanced toward her new charge. “So where do you want me to start with your mom?”
Elin shaded her eyes as she looked into the afternoon sun to the west. She pointed toward the house. “She loves gardening. There’s a plot in the backyard that just needs to be tilled. I found a tiller in the garden shed, but I’m not sure how to work it.”
“There isn’t a tiller made I don’t know how to operate.”
“I can get whatever plants or seeds you want too.” Elin led her back to rejoin her mother and Josie. “Mom, would you like to have a garden?”
Her mother looked up. “A garden? Can I have tomatoes?”
“If we can keep the sea spray from wilting them,” Kalianne said. “I think they’ll be sheltered behind the house.”
Josie jumped up and tugged on the new aide’s hand. “Can I help too?”
Kalianne picked her up. “You sure can. I’ll teach you how to weed and everything.”
Josie pulled back and studied the woman’s face. “I don’t know. Will there be bugs? I hate bugs, especially centipedes.” She shuddered. “They have too many legs.”
Seagrass Pier Page 6
