Breakwater Beach

by Carole Ann Moleti

  “My decision is made. I should never have come here.” Sara released her sister and turned to Elisabeth, hands on hips.

  Elisabeth went downstairs to the parlour and took stationary out of her desk. She penned the recommendation and hesitated before scrawling Lady Elisabeth Baxter Barrett of Surrey, England and Brewster, Massachusetts for one last time. She was no longer a lady, a Baxter, nor a Barrett but for the purposes of a reference, the lie mattered not.

  Sara snatched it on her way out the door.

  “God bless you, Sara. I hope you’ll forgive me someday.”

  Sara did not respond. Paul and Katherine drove her off. This new union had sundered the bond between two sisters.

  Jared came into the foyer, hands clasped behind his back. “I’ll be moving my things into Sara’s old room and will see Wilcox in the morning to put my property up for sale. I will direct him to place the proceeds from the sale of your jewelry into the bank, in your name. If you ever have need of it, the funds will be there for you. Remember, I’m your husband in name only, until you decide otherwise. I’m sorry to have hurt Sara, but this was the only way.”

  There was no reason to torture this man who had done so much for her. “God will bless you for your kindness, Jared. We should have dinner together.”

  Relief and appreciation spread across his face. “I’d like that. Let me get provisions and some of my things. I’m sure Katherine will be in no condition to do any cooking tonight.”

  Elisabeth watched him head off into the pine grove toward his house. How many more times would her life, and those of everyone she touched, be turned upside down?

  Chapter 26

  June 25, 1877

  Elisabeth rocked on the porch this anniversary of the day she’d arrived in Brewster and first met Jared. Who could have predicted that two years later only one of the three couples who’d lunched that day would remain? And that Edward, who had made it all possible, would be dead?

  Jared joined her and rested both hands on her shoulders. “The deal is done, Elisabeth. Somersell accepted the deed to my property in lieu of the lien on yours. He’s ordered its immediate sale. Elias Pierce is interested. He’ll keep it well, so I’m pleased.”

  Jared’s lips turned up in a smile, creasing the skin around his bright blue eyes into delicate laugh lines. As fair as Edward was dark, she couldn’t help but think Jared’s hands, rough and weather-beaten, were as gentle. Fresh out of a bath, he smelled like soap. Curls of hair on his muscled chest poked out of a partially unbuttoned shirt.

  Elisabeth opened her mouth to respond, but her chin quivered. She suppressed the urge to rest against him and kiss his neck.

  He filled the silence, seemingly unaware of her licentious thoughts. “I’ve dispatched Paul to purchase Smooch and the geldings back from the livery pool. Ruddy is lonely, like her mistress.” She found her voice. “You’ve put everything right, have you not, Jared?” Elisabeth wanted to embrace him and give thanks for all the kindness he had shown, but an invisible force seemed to be holding her back.

  His hands slid down her arms and joined near the small of her back. “I can’t bring Edward back, or I would. I fell in love watching you with those horses. I know how hard it is to lose your true love. It takes time, and I’ll wait patiently to see you smile again.”

  She’d held the tears for months and couldn’t any longer. Sobs came from the depths of her soul: disappointment, loneliness, confusion, anger—she couldn’t make sense of any of it. “I want to know what happened. I need to talk to him one last time.”

  Jared held her until she quieted. The comfort of his arms shocked her. He turned so his face was nowhere near hers, respecting the boundaries that had never been crossed. His breathing quickened, his heart pounded. She wanted him too, and hated herself for it.

  Jared dropped his arms and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “You’re safe, Elisabeth. And Edward can rest in peace.” He kissed the top of her head and went inside.

  She heard him ascend the stairs and close the door to his room.

  Katherine came out of the cottage and up onto the porch. “Aren’t you going to sleep, Elisabeth?”

  “Soon.” She’d gotten into the habit of staying awake until her eyes were closing to avoid lying alone in bed, thinking, brooding, wondering.

  Katherine patted Elisabeth’s shoulders and draped a shawl over her as the nighttime chill descended. “Remember when I used to lay out your things and help you undress? God, things are different now.”

  The young woman’s shy but steadfast kindness conjured another pang of guilt. “Can you ever forgive me for separating you from your sister?”

  Katherine hugged Elisabeth. “There is nothing to forgive. Sara was never happy here. Jared didn’t love her, and there was no reason for her to stay, even if he hadn’t married you. She’s working for a lovely family in Sussex. I miss her, but it’s not like I’ll never see her again.”

  The sincerity in Katherine’s words and embrace, like Jared’s, did little to assuage Elisabeth’s anguish. “Thank you. Goodnight.”

  “I should sit with you for a while. You look so upset.”

  “No. Paul will be looking for you.” Just as Jared waited for her every night, hoping she’d go to him instead of to her bed. Alone.

  “Good night, then.” Katherine went across the grass to her cottage, to her husband.

  The soft wool shawl, meant to comfort and warm her, instead felt oppressive. Elisabeth draped it over the railing and studied the jumble of stars in the dark sky.

  A strange wail emanated from the bay; perhaps a distant foghorn or a whale calling its companions. The haunting rhythm faded, but the shrill tones had struck a chord of alarm deep inside her. Someone, or something, was in trouble.

  It was well after midnight when Elisabeth went upstairs. She paused at the door to Jared’s room. If she knocked, he’d answer. When she kissed him, he’d kiss her back. He was her husband now. Edward was dead. It was no crime or betrayal to desire a man who loved her. No one would fault her if she went in, lay down next to him, and they made love.

  But she couldn’t banish the memory of Edward walking through these halls. He’d promised to come back. What if he did? He had been jealous of Jared in the past, and she had mocked that.

  Elisabeth went into her room, their room, and fell onto the bed, still dressed. The same dream she’d had in Boston woke her. Edward called, trying to tell her something. She ran down the stairs and outside. An owl hooted, a skunk scurried across the dew-kissed grass. In the distance, she heard foghorns as ships navigated the bay.

  She walked the dirt road, barefoot, down to Breakwater Beach, straining to hear Edward again. The moon shone bright enough to illuminate the flats extending for more than a mile at full low tide. Elisabeth trekked across the mud to where the water lapped gently over the sand. The ghostly wail returned from the depths.

  Elisabeth stared into the pitch darkness. Some spirit of the sea mocked her. The one who’d swallowed Edward and his ship without a trace.

  Cold water sloshed around her knees. Raising her skirts, she waded back toward the beach. The saturated material weighed Elisabeth down. Water rose to her waist. Her feet sank into the mud. She struggled against the incoming tide, but the current fought back. Waves swept her sideways.

  On sunny, summer days, stranded bathers laughed and bantered, grabbed hands, and formed a chain. Together they’d push forward. This time there was no one near, no joy, no mirth. Only that evil wail that echoed in her head.

  Elisabeth tried to maintain her orientation and move toward shore, but it was too dark to see where she was headed. Her feet were knocked out from under her and tangled in the heavy skirts. She couldn’t kick free. Waves slapped her face.

  She gasped for breath. Soundlessness enveloped her. It hurt less if she didn’t st
ruggle. “Bring me to Edward, you evil sea witch.”

  Chapter 27

  Elisabeth floated in the blackness, watching.

  Jared ran through the rooms. “Elisabeth, where are you? Please, answer me!”

  Here, Jared. I’m right here.

  Katherine raced into the house, holding the shawl she'd left on the porch the night before. Her hair streamed out behind, her eyes were wide with fear. “I should have stayed with her. Where could she have gone?”

  They ran outside.

  Paul tightened the cinch on Ruddy’s saddle and leaped up. “I’m going to search for her.”

  “Ride to Bethea’s. Perhaps she went there.” Jared’s voice broke.

  He knows I would have taken Ruddy.

  “Yes, sir.” Paul jabbed his heels to spurn the horse on.

  “What happened last night?” Jared shook Katherine’s shoulders.

  “She was upset before I went to bed, missing Edward. I tried to be comforting.”

  No, don’t blame her, please.

  Katherine sniffed back tears and her body trembled. “She said she was going to bed soon. It was near midnight. I didn’t wait to see her go upstairs, and her bed was never turned down.”

  Paul galloped back into the driveway and jumped down. “There’s talk they found a woman in Paine’s Creek.”

  “Oh, dear God.” Jared ran.

  White foamy sweat dripped off Ruddy, and Paul turned her loose in the paddock. Paul and Katherine followed Edward the short distance to the beach. A crowd of salt miners stood on the nearly dry flats.

  The outgoing tide swirled around her body, crumpled in a heap, face down in the mud like a discarded doll. They formed a circle around her and stared.

  One of the men bent down, turned her over, and recoiled. “It’s Mrs. Sanders!”

  “No one can swim against the current with all that fabric weighing them down.”

  “How do you think she got into the water?”

  It was an accident! They can’t hear me. I try to breathe, to explain, but my body won’t respond. They’re touching me, but I can’t feel.

  The circle parted. Jared ran to her and fell to his knees. He picked her body up and cradled it. One arm fell limp, and Jared raised it to his heart while he kissed her mud streaked face and hair.

  I should have kissed him last night, while I was still alive.

  Tears fell from his eyes and dropped onto her neck, but there was no sensation.

  Paul helped a distraught and sobbing Katherine along. They followed as Jared carried her body back to the house. He laid her on the bed, and stood staring, unbelieving.

  Bethea burst into the room. “What happened?” She glared at Jared.

  He extended his arms toward the body, then clasped his hands around his head, shielding his eyes. “We don’t know. She was upset last night and . . .”

  “She drowned herself looking for Edward. Or maybe you did this to her.” Bethea’s words were bitter with grief and anguish.

  Elisabeth saw Jared’s eyes blink, and his hand go to his stomach. He struggled to breathe and couldn’t summon any words.

  He strode out, and Paul ran after him. Bethea sat on the bed, stared at the lifeless form, and brushed the tangled matt of hair out of sightless eyes. She began to remove the sodden clothes.

  “Get some warm water, Katherine. I’ll bathe and dress her. Oh my God, Elisabeth, what happened to you?” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  I didn’t mean to hurt myself. Edward was calling. I wanted to hear what he was saying. The tide came in too fast.

  Katherine brought a basin and a cloth. There was no feeling of the warmth of the water on her body, or the tug of the comb they used to untangle and coif her hair. She didn’t feel the soft linen underclothes against her skin, or the buttons on the dress push into her back when they turned and covered her with a clean sheet.

  “I’ll not leave her until they come.” Katherine settled herself onto the chaise and cried into her hands.

  Is this how Wilhemina watched us care for her baby and prepare her body for burial? I thought when you died those who went before were there to welcome and comfort you. But I’m alone and frightened.

  Bethea sat next to Katherine. “They’re saying Jared killed her for money. There’s talk of an inquest.”

  Katherine’s hands dropped to her lap, and she turned to Bethea. Anger burned like smouldering embers in her eyes. “She had no money. Jared saved her from losing everything. I was the last one to see her alive. He was long since asleep. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her alone.”

  “How do you know what happened between them in the middle of the night?”

  Katherine sat on the bed and clasped Elisabeth’s cold, blue hand. “He would never harm her. She was bereft, not thinking clearly.”

  Oh my God. They’ll blame Jared.

  Elisabeth left her body in the good care of her friends and drifted to the stable where Jared leaned on the fence.

  Paul tried to settle Ruddy, who stomped at the far end of the paddock, tossed her head, and backed into a corner.

  There, Ruddy my girl. It’s all right. Settle down. Don’t injure yourself.

  The horse rose onto her haunches, her forelegs flailing in rage. A shrill whinny rang through air already heavy with despair.

  Ruddy charged. Paul ran and secured the gate so she wouldn’t bolt out. Breathless, he put his hand on Jared’s trembling shoulder. “Animals sense what’s going on. Jared, I know how much you loved her. I can’t understand why she did it.”

  I do love you, Jared. I needed Edward’s reassurance. Please, forgive me.

  Elisabeth heard Edward’s muffled cries again, but it was no longer a dream.

  I’ve disappeared just like you did, Edward. No one understands, and they can’t hear me. Why can’t I find you?

  Jared went into the paddock. “There now, Ruddy old girl.” The horse quieted. Jared buried his face in her mane and cried.

  A silent figure drifted out of the blackness. Its hair streamed behind like golden strands of seaweed and flowed down a bare chest, neither female nor male. The bottom half of its body was sheathed in foamy green scales. Luminescent sparks clustered around it like a halo.

  The creature’s skin shone as white as alabaster, its amorphous face expressionless. A fish tail oscillated, and it moved forward. Humanoid hands grasped and dragged her into a black void.

  You finally have shown me your face, sea witch. You lured me here, tricked me, brought misery to my friends. What have you done with Edward?

  Its lips did not move but the voice, as shrill as a whistle, penetrated Elisabeth’s brain.

  “Creatures of the sea crave not humans, nor harm them. Your kind’s foolishness leads you to depths you cannot conquer. I am merely here to escort you to your rightful place.”

  Take me to Edward now!

  “It is not your privilege to demand anything, nor can I grant any request. It is not yet your time. Sleep now. You have a long journey ahead.”

  Edward’s calls faded away. A dark curtain closed on the scene of her friends and her husband standing around the grave. Clods of soil plunked on top of the coffin. Chinks of dirt filled her mouth and nose as she was returned to the custody of the earth.

  Chapter 28

  June 25, 2009

  Brewster Massachusetts

  The breeze turned chilly. Sea mist kissed her face. Liz pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and started home. No flashlight, which was a mistake. The moon ducked behind the clouds. Most of the cottages were deserted, and only an occasional passing car provided some illumination. The wind picked up. Leaves rustled. A flock of bats flapped by, their vampire-like silhouette unmistakable.

  Kate’s was closed, and that meant
it was after ten p.m. Liz fought the urge to run and turned three times, hearing footsteps behind her. But only a few chipmunks, a raccoon, and a skunk scampered across the road and under the hedges. An owl hooted.

  A faint light burned in her bedroom, but the first floor was dark. She struggled with the stubborn lock on the heavy double doors. Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. Liz lunged inside, quickly locked the door behind her, and flipped a switch. The chandelier in the hallway blazed on, bathing the entire first floor and staircase in white light.

  She pressed her back against the door until her heartbeat returned to normal. Everything is fine. You only feel panicky because you’re alone in a new house.

  Liz went room to room, flicking on lights to banish her anxiety. She rattled all the downstairs windows to be sure they were locked. Shadows danced in every corner. I need more lamps. This place is full of dark corners.

  She went upstairs, surveying the long hallway and empty guest rooms, as silent as a tomb. Her bedroom door was ajar, the ray of light welcoming. Surrounded the smell of fresh linen and Mae’s lingering spirit her fears dissipated.

  Liz filled the claw-footed tub, adding some of the luscious bath salts from her gift basket. Warm water and the gentle abrasive massage and relaxed her. Plush towels soothed her skin. She dusted on scented powder and rubbed lotion into her work-roughened hands.

  The nightgown Mae had hung on the door looked just right for the chilly night. The fabric warmed and soothed her skin. She settled into her new bed, sandwiched between the crisp linens and down comforter, and got to reading about the latest mayhem in The Boston Globe.

  The newspapers blew off the bed and across the floor. A loose shutter banged against the house. Liz awoke, still sitting up in bed. 2 a.m.