“Ma’am, it’s fine. I might just as well change,” he said with a flushed face.
“You leave your clothes for me to wash. Basket is out on the front porch.”
“Better do as she says,” I suggested with a slight laugh behind my words.
“Smart girl. Wish my Sylvia had as much sense to her.”
At Hazel’s insistence, Heath held back his objections, only asking, “If it’s not too much trouble?”
“No more than I already have,” she replied, exasperated, and took off to the kitchen.
“Meet me by the boathouse in fifteen minutes. That‘s all I need to change out of my soiled clothing.” He chuckled. “I recall you used to have quite the sensitive stomach when you were younger.”
Heath was referring to my first day of school when I was so nervous I threw up in front of the entire class. Heath was the one who’d helped me clean up and encouraged me to go back into the schoolhouse and continue with my day without any more woe.
“You remembered,” I said softly. He smiled at me, a true, genuine smile, the kind that used to send my heart soaring.
“There isn’t anything about you, Lillian, that I would allow myself to ever forget.”
Hazel entered without paying us any mind, not sensing the apprehension between us. Did Heath suggest that he would never forget all the trouble I caused? I didn’t know, and couldn’t tell from the spark in his eyes if he was challenging me again, or surrendering.
“You two better get a move on. James is going to expect biscuits and gravy at supper.”
Before heading to the boathouse, I hurried to my room to fix myself up. That’s when I noticed a small wrapped box beside the mirror. I looked around for a note, but there was none.
Excited at the surprise, I opened the paper to reveal a small bottle of perfume. I lifted the top, and right away knew whom it was from. The scent was what I had smelled on Ayden the night he returned after the last storm.
I went to his room and knocked softly. He wasn’t yet asleep, just resting with his head propped up on two pillows.
“Come in,” he called. “I can’t sleep with all that racket outside.”
“I found my gift. What on earth is it for?” I asked. The drapes were closed, but natural light periodically flashed as the wind blew in and lifted them high above the window.
“I smelt six different bottles before I chose this one for you. This one smelled soft and sweet and reminded me of you.”
I enclosed him in my arms. The gesture nearly caused me to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given me a gift a gift without strings attached and for no particular reason.
“No crying," he insisted.
“They are happy tears. Thank you very much, Ayden.”
“Did you put some on?”
“I dabbed some behind my ears,” I said as he took my hands in his.
“Can I take a whiff?” he asked.
“I have to go. Heath is waiting for me at the boathouse.”
“Perhaps I should get out of bed and row you to the harbor myself. I can’t sleep as it is.”
“No, no. You rest. I’m sure you’ll fall asleep,” I leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, pulling back just as he tried to pull me in.
“Thank you again,” I sang and flew out of the room with the next breeze.
Heath was unlatching the boat ropes from the dock with Oliver and Owen standing beside him, pleading for a boat ride, as I hurried over. He helped me in and said goodbye to the inquisitive twin boys, and I took a seat while he pushed us off. Under the late autumn sun, Heath rowing with both oars, we set out toward the harbor.
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, allowing the warm sun that penetrated through the cool breeze to heat my face. I listened intently to the sounds of the oars smacking against the side of the boat before dunking into the water, then lifting up as the droplets fell back down into the water. I almost lost myself in memories of our childhood and the frequent boat rides across the harbor to attend school. Back then, Heath had rowed with as much power as he could muster, enough to match my father. Ayden and I sat side by side with our lunch pails on our laps, patiently waiting to reach the docks. I used to gaze at Heath, admire his handsome good looks, and dream of being his someday. Even when he proclaimed his love for Clara in his poetry, I never gave up hope, not until the night I learned of his engagement to Sarah Van Dorn, the same night he looked into my eyes and pretended we had never shared a childhood or a tender moment all the years we lived together on Jasper Island.
My eyes snapped open, returning to reality only to see Heath staring at me with soft eyes and a modest smile. “A penny for your thoughts . . .”
“Memories,” I said softly.
“Good or bad?”
“Good or bad what?”
“Memories?”
“Both,” I confessed, holding onto the sides of the boat as we pulled up against the dock.
Heath jumped out, tied the boat, and reached for my hand. I lifted my head and locked eyes with him. He pulled me up with such a sharp tug that I lost my balance and fell against him. He caught me and held me, his nose lingering near my neck and the spot where I had dabbed on the perfume. Discomforted, I moved aside, and he let go of my arms.
“I have to get to the post office, then I will meet you back at the general store,” I said shaken, and I rushed off.
Another letter for Heath sat atop our small pile of mail.
“Someone is certainly fond of Heath Dalton. He is the talk around town you know. Quite the catch I suppose. After all, he is a young, handsome doctor. I would bet these letters are from a girl just pining over him. I can smell a trace of perfume on the letters, can’t you?” Mrs. Hagen asked in a light, happy voice.
I took a quick look outside to see if Heath was near, and when I didn’t see him, I stepped back inside the post office and took a whiff of the milky white envelope addressed with penmanship I greatly admired.
With the sweet scent of expensive French perfume traveling up my nose, I quickly stuck the letter deep within the pile, then shoved them all into my dress pocket, and remarked coolly, “I should hope you are not a betting woman, Mrs. Hagen.”
“Why, of course not!” she gasped clutching her chest at my suggestion.
“Good day, Mrs. Hagen.”
Heath was talking with Mr. Makson by the far end of the store when I entered. I pretended not to pay him any mind and went over to the counter to purchase a small bag of candy from the large round glass jars that sat there. I waited for Mr. Makson to finish with Heath, keeping my gaze straight ahead and my expression indifferent, though I did manage to listen.
“I will have the box brought right out to your boat. Is there anything else I can get for you today, Doctor?” Then men walked over to where I stood, and Mr. Makson eased behind the counter, leaving Heath close to me.
“I’ll take those leather riding gloves up there,” Heath said, and extended his arm to point around me to the only pair on the shelf.
I lowered my bonnet to cover most of my face.
“And the kite.”
“This one?” Mr. Makson asked, lifting the colorful blue and yellow kite from the corner behind the entrance door.
“Yes. That will be all,” Heath declared and took out his money. “And is there anything you need, Lillian?”
“I was going to get some licorice for the Cooper children.”
“Fine idea. A bag a licorice as well.”
Mr. Makson gave me a playful wink, filled the bag to the top, and handed the candy and the gloves to me and the kite to Heath.
“Oh, by the way, Doc, the missus’s back is acting up. Would you mind stopping in and taking a quick look at her?” he asked handing back half the money Heath gave for the merchandise.
Heath looked ambivalent, hesitating as his good hand still grasped onto the money Mr. Makson willingly gave him for his request.
“What about Doc Pittenger? Can’t he see to your
wife?”
“Haven’t you heard? Retired last week and moved to Oklahoma to be with his son and grandkids. The new doctor isn‘t due until next week, at the earliest.”
“I really can‘t. I . . .”
“She is in a bit of pain, Doc,” he added to sway Heath’s mind.
“Of course the good doctor will see to your wife,” I spoke up, and without allowing him any more reluctance, guided Heath out of the store and around back to their small, attached two-story house, as Mr. Makson called out his appreciation.
“You shouldn’t have agreed to this,” Heath said with a scowl to his face when we approached the small front stoop.
“What are the gloves for? Going riding anytime soon?” I asked with slight disdain while rapping on the door.
Heath placed only the one glove on his scarred hand and looked down at me with either exasperation or despondency. Which, I couldn’t decipher.
“No one needs to be repulsed by my scars. I will wear it when out in public.”
“You should wear both gloves. One glove looks odd. Then no one will ask questions what you aren’t willing to answer,” I said boldly, as my pulse raced at the thought of the admission I swore I had heard when recovering from my fall.
Heath was irritated with my remark; I could easily tell by the way he frowned at me. Mrs. Makson opened the door and welcomed us in. “Hello, Doctor. Good to see you.”
“Your husband says you are in some pain.”
“My lower back has been acting up something terrible. Tried all the bottles of medicine we carry, but nothing at all seems to help.” She sighed and led us into the small parlor.
Heath was somewhat reserved and detached, but he agreed to give her a brief examination. He placed his hands on her plump hips and made her bend down until the pain flared and he could pinpoint where it was located. “Does the pain run all the way down your legs, or remain localized in your lower back?” he asked, then told her to stand back up.
“Down my legs as well.”
“A dull or sharp kind of pain?”
“Sharp,” she replied, then eased herself down on the settee with Heath’s assistance.
“I didn’t bring my bag with me; in fact, I don’t practice medicine any longer,” Heath informed her.
“But you can suggest something, can’t you Doctor?”
“Stay off your feet as much as possible when the pain acts up,” Heath told her and headed for the door, but not before placing the money Mr. Makson gave him on the table in the small, dark foyer. I followed close behind. “If that doesn’t do the trick, let your husband know, and I will recommend some medicine he can order.”
“Thank you, Doctor Dalton, thank you,” she called out until the front door was closed.
The box of supplies was waiting to be loaded onto the boat when we returned to the docks. Heath wasn’t as relaxed as he had been when we rowed over. Now he wore a frown and refused to look my way. It was just as well, for every time he had gazed at me, a flush would rise and sweep over my face, and my heart began to beat fast - just the way it used to. Then overwhelmed with guilt, I would struggle to keep my growing affection for Heath at bay.
Back on the station, some of the children waved and ran to greet us. Oliver immediately noticed the kite. “I never had a kite before. Show me how it works, Doctor Dalton!”
“Yes, show us all,” the others cried at once.
A smile warmed Heath’s face and melted away his frown. Though the children could be boisterous and sometimes annoying, I could tell he liked their inquisitive nature. They all stood anxiously, awaiting his response.
“I have to take the box up to the house. If you go fetch Polly and James, Jr., then I will show you how to fly a kite. And have Sylvia come too,” Heath said, and they all cheered, then ran off following his instructions.
“I’ll find Ayden,” I said.
“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” he said and lugged the heavy box out of the boat.
“I meant to see you fly the kite,” I said skeptically.
“So you believe I can’t do it? I sense some doubt?” he grinned teasingly. I was glad to see his spirit return and regretted being the one who had made him gloomy earlier.
I searched for Ayden in the house, then looked in the barn. James had told me he’d seen Ayden there just minutes before. But he wasn’t in the barn, so I went to the lighthouse, where I caught sight of him standing out on the gallery of the tower with Sylvia. He was handing her the spyglass to see out. Ayden stood beside her, his mouth close to her ear, apparently instructing her on how to use the apparatus. I stopped and watched them. Because they were so high up, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I did notice they were laughing.
Watching for only a short time, Ayden spotted me and waved, then called out, “Hello, dear!”
Sylvia drew the spyglass to her side, but didn’t wave. Instead of continuing on, I turned around and headed for the shore where Heath was preparing to lift off the kite. All the children gathered around him as he was explaining how it worked. “First, I hold it out like this; then I will start running and let it go. That’s when the wind will catch it and lift it up. I have to loosen this string slowly, easing it up higher and higher.”
“Can it go as high as the lighthouse?” Polly asked.
“Wait and see,” Heath said, his eyes twinkling with excitement, just the way theirs were.
I glanced behind my shoulder, gazed up, and saw Ayden, now standing alone, waiting to see the kite fly.
“Here I go!” Heath announced and took off running along the beach, the kite lifting quickly. Within seconds, it was flying high in the brisk ocean breeze. All the children cheered.
Hazel appeared behind me with Willard pressed against her hip. “Have you seen Sylvia anywhere? Been looking all over for her. It’s time for Willard’s bath.”
“She was up in the tower,” I replied keeping my eyes locked on the soaring kite.
“Been up there all morning. Girl needs to get her priorities straight,” she grumbled, and went off to look for her oldest daughter.
Without any more time to spend watching Heath play with the children, I went to the house to wash up to help Hazel with the supper preparations. I didn’t expect to find Sylvia standing in the parlor of our house.
“What are you doing in here? Your mother has been looking for you,” I said, startled.
“I guess I lost track of time,” she muttered. She appeared anxious and quickly hurried out without offering an explanation as to why she was there.
Intuitively, I went upstairs, and when I reached the top, I caught a whiff of my new perfume, which was heavy in the air. In my room, the glass top to the perfume bottle had been left off, and the drawers to my dresser were slightly ajar. She had been snooping through my things! It suddenly occurred to me that she might have discovered the letters addressed to Heath that I’d been hiding.
“That wicked girl!” I said aloud, and knelt down to the only drawer that didn’t look touched, the drawer that contained the mystery letters. They were still hidden, unmoved. I added the new letter to my collection and breathed a sigh of relief. Then my anger began to brew. Sylvia was a snoop and a thief. She was sly, cunning, and no ordinary thirteen-year-old. I realized then that Sylvia was after my most cherished possessions, and what belonged exclusively to me.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-One
Truth from lies
Kite flying and scrumptious biscuits were the talk at supper. The children - especially Polly, Owen, and Oliver - were thrilled with Heath. He even promised to allow them to see through his telescope one night.
James, Sr. was pleased with his meal, and thanked Heath for retrieving the much needed lard. “Don’t know if I could have lived through another meal without Hazel’s biscuits,” he said, before layering a second one with the fresh churned butter that I’d made, then gulping it down in one bite.
“I’ll have to give you my recipe,” Hazel said.
; “I will add it to my recipe book.”
“And Lillian can give you her recipe for chocolate cake. She makes the best chocolate cake,” Ayden interjected.
“What about her apple pie?’ Heath chimed in. I Instantly stopped chewing my food. That really hit home. Heath remembered Momma’s delicious apple pie, and how I made it just like hers.
“The best ever,” Ayden added.
“Not better than Momma’s,” I choked back the tears that suddenly filled my eyes.
Sylvia was staring at me with a modest, crooked smile that slowly grew into a sinister smirk as the tears trickled down my cheek.
“Where does she live, your momma? Does she come and visit Jasper Island?” Sylvia asked. “If so, then we can all get a taste of this celebrated pie she makes.”
“What is your ma’s name?” Polly, who was sitting beside me, asked. “Is she as pretty as you?”
“She was very pretty. Unfortunately, she died a long time ago,” I said, and dabbed my tears away.
“Oh, that’s so sad. What did she die of?” Sylvia impolitely asked.
“Sylvia, you mind your manners!” her father scolded.
“I was just wondering, Pa!”
“Please excuse me,” I said, and left the table before my sobbing became uncontrollable.
Ayden came shortly after to find me in my room. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I sniveled and blew my nose into the handkerchief he kindly offered me.
“Will you come and join me tonight?”
“James will keep you more than occupied, Ayden. I’m tired. After I help Hazel clean up supper, I think I will get some sleep,” I said with my back toward him as I sat on the bed.
“Hazel has Sylvia to help her with that tonight. She was bad mannered, and her folks aren’t tolerating it. I’m sure she won’t behave that way again. I think she has good intentions. She really does seem like a nice girl.” Ayden reached over and gently touched my hair, holding the silky strands for a few silent moments, then left to spend his long night in the tower.
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 80
