Escape to Indigo Bay: Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series

by Oram, Jean

  “Why?” he asked tightly. “Did someone hurt you?”

  Jessie’s leering face flashed through her mind. He’d wanted to scare her, prove he could control her. “Someone tried,” she said. “But he didn’t … I didn’t let him.”

  The air whooshed out of Ben’s lungs and he leaned forward, running his hands over his short hair. “Wow. Eva, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine—”

  The air in the car was getting stuffy. Now that she’d started, she wanted to finish the story, and Jessie was only a small piece, she didn’t want to get sidetracked by him. “Can we walk?” Eva asked, her hand already on the door handle.

  Jennifer and Tyler hadn’t reappeared—they were probably with the children on the beach—so Ben and Eva walked along the road, their footsteps crunching in the gravel.

  Eva’s brain churned. How much should she tell him? How much could she tell him? There were some things she never wanted to relive, even in a shared memory.

  They walked down Seaside Boulevard in silence, and Eva knew he was waiting for her to start. “Are you religious?” she asked after they’d gone more than a quarter of a mile.

  He shrugged. “Kind of. I believe in God, and that there’s something beyond our world—” He waved his hand vaguely at their surroundings. “—but I don’t know if it’s as cut-and-dried as most religions try to tell us. Why?”

  “Well, we are … was. I was. But I’m not anymore.” She set her jaw.

  “Okay.” He said the word easily, like one could shrug off a religion as easily as shrugging off an old T-shirt at the end of the day. “By ‘we,’ I assume you mean your family?”

  “And the others.” She swallowed hard and continued, speaking quickly, as if trying to get all the words out at once. Because then it would be out there, for Ben to examine and pick apart, and this huge secret wouldn’t be her responsibility anymore. “When my parents split up, Mom got custody of me and my little brother. I was only four, so don’t remember much except that one day my dad was gone and my mother said we were moving. She gave me a laundry basket and told me to pack everything I wanted to keep in it. We weren’t … we hadn’t been rich, but all my stuff didn’t even come close to fitting in the basket. I had to leave a lot behind.”

  Her voice caught. The memory of the possessions she’d lost had been shoved to the back of her mind—a tragedy at first, but quickly replaced by even bigger, more confusing calamities as their new lives unfolded.

  Ben’s hand closed around hers. His fingers were warm and strong and brought a measure of courage. “There was a long car ride,” she continued. “And a man, not my father. He had a weird name, I couldn’t pronounce it, and he started calling my mother a weird name too.” She shuddered. “Her name is Karen, but he called her Ninkarrah.”

  Ben’s brow wrinkled. “A term of endearment?”

  “No. We all got new names when we reached the Family. Sammy became Sambium and I was …” She hadn’t said the name in more than four months. “I was Seranyevah.”

  Their shoes crunched on the gravel and somewhere a Carolina Wren started singing, the call picked up and echoed through the neighborhood by others. Ben squeezed her hand. “So when you left them, you went back to Eva?”

  “I was Sarah before,” she said quickly, fiercely. “The woman who helped me leave, she suggested I switch it back, but it felt wrong. I wasn’t that little girl anymore; I couldn’t use her name.” Dora England had refused to use the Family name, and when she hadn’t wanted to be Sarah again, Dora had started calling her Eva. It was during the first week of her housecleaning job, and Dora was already sowing the seeds that would lead Eva to Indigo Bay.

  She felt Ben squeeze her hand. She’d daydreamed about holding hands with him dozens of times, but it had never been like this. In her dreams, it had been a gesture of affection that sent shivers racing through her body. But now, he’d taken her hand in a silent signal of support, erasing any chance of romance in the emotional turmoil of her story. She felt a stab of disappointment, followed by a larger gash of anxiety. What would he do when he’d heard the whole thing?

  “We drove from Seattle to Georgia, straight through with no stopping,” Eva said, forcing herself to go on. She remembered the hot wind from the open window blowing her hair and the harsh line of the seat belt cutting across her neck. There’d been quick stops for bathroom breaks or food, where she and Sammy were given a single small cheeseburger to split, no matter how hungry they were. Their mother had sipped black coffee and hadn’t eaten at all.

  “When we got to the Property, there were tall green gates and lots of trees. The air was … sticky. So totally different from what I’d known.”

  “So a type of communal living place, but everyone there believes the same religion?” Ben’s brow wrinkled. “That’s not so unheard of, especially along parts of Appalachia. What religion was it?”

  “It’s …” This was so much harder than she’d anticipated. “It was founded by Fath— … by a man who calls himself Father Neezrahiah. He thinks the end of the world is coming soon, and so everyone in the Family is preparing. I don’t know how my mother found them, but she joined them and that’s … that’s where we lived from then on.”

  “Until you came here?”

  Eva nodded as she brushed gnats away from her face impatiently, wishing this was over. She didn’t want to remember details—the hunger, the pressing humidity, the barracks with the moldy blankets and ever-present odor of dirty diapers. The endless ceremonies with the fires and the singing, everyone swaying in unison, the trancelike look that never left her mother’s eyes. And Jessie. Even when they were young, his eyes were the opposite of trancelike—cold, calculating, greedy.

  “Okay, so you come from kind of a strange place.” Ben grinned and nudged her with his shoulder. “That explains a lot.”

  She turned to him. “Like what?”

  “You work in a chocolate shop, but don’t eat it. You don’t like crowds and you’re scared of policemen. You read like a crazy woman, you don’t know how to swim …” He ticked off the items on his fingers, but his brown eyes were twinkling.

  “I am not afraid of policemen!” She nudged him back, careful not to break the hold of their hands. “Just you.”

  “What?” He gave her the puppy dog eyes. “I am a total and complete pushover.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Ben stopped in the shade of an oak tree and pulled her toward him. She went willingly, stepping into his embrace. His arms around her waist were solid, warm, a buffer between her and the world. Eva let out a long sigh and leaned in to rest her head against his chest. For a long time, they stood without speaking, and the only sounds were the occasional chirping of a sandpiper and the muffled thrum of the ocean coming from behind the houses lining the avenue.

  She hadn’t told him everything, hadn’t even told him most things, but that felt okay for now. What she had told him made her heart feel lighter than it had in … forever.

  The cotton fabric of his shirt was soft under her cheek and still carried the smell of salt water and sunscreen. “I think you’re amazing,” he said softly into her hair. “I think you’re smart and brave and strong.” His hands slid to her hips, gently pulling her even closer, and the thrill of excitement she’d been aching to feel exploded through her, replacing the anxiety and embarrassment she’d carried all afternoon.

  The first touch of his lips was soft, like a whisper of a breeze, but it was enough to send waves of longing trembling through her, making her knees shake.

  Ben drew back ever so slightly, his lips hovering over hers, letting her decide if she wanted him to be closer.

  She did. Almost on their own, her hands moved up his back, and he groaned as her fingers followed the outline of his muscles under his thin shirt. His kisses became more demanding and she gasped, burning for his touch as she parted her lips to give him what he was seeking, trusting him fully.

  Chapter 8

  Ben sat in the police station, chewing on the end
of his pen.

  “What’s up, Andrews? You’ve been staring at the screen for half an hour,” Tara piped up from behind her desk.

  Ben blinked and the world came back into focus. “Nothing, just thinking,” he mumbled as he bent his head over his notes. The single sheet of paper was only half full, holding all the info Eva had given him that afternoon. Well, all the info he remembered. The feeling of her lips on his and her hands running through his hair had pretty much obliterated everything else.

  He’d Googled the names she’d given him with different spellings, and so far he’d come up blank. A search for communes in North Georgia had brought up several community living compounds, but they seemed geared more toward hippie tourism than an actual way of life. Questions filled his mind, nettling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He hadn’t been a police officer this long without developing a sort of sixth sense about witness testimonies. There was more to Eva’s story than she’d told him.

  “Hey, have you heard anything about a group founded by a guy calling himself Father …” He glanced down at his notes, trying to remember how Eva had pronounced the names. “Neez-hi-yah?”

  “Not off the top of my head. Why?”

  “I heard some stuff, thought I’d check it out.”

  “Stuff like what?”

  He hesitated. Eva had been reluctant to say anything at all and had clearly told him her story in confidence. Word spread fast through small towns, and she probably didn’t want people to know she came from such a strange place. He didn’t want to betray her trust. “I heard the name recently. He’s the leader of some off-the-grid group.”

  Tara shrugged. “Sorry, not ringing a bell. Want me to help you look?” She shot a quick glance at her overflowing inbox.

  “Nah, it’s okay.” Ben shook his head, thinking of his own work pileup. “I was just curious.”

  He shut down the browser window for communes and picked up the first stapled stack of papers in his inbox—the incident report for a drunk guy he’d caught urinating in public earlier tonight. Now he had six forms to fill out in triplicate to document the five-minute interaction. His head pounded, the missed sleep and the day in the sun catching up to him, and he ducked his head over the papers. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could get back to daydreaming about Eva.

  * * *

  Spring eased into summer as delicately as the crepe myrtles shed their vibrant blossoms, and for several days, Eva’s daily walk to the chocolate shop felt like walking in a fairy tale through the flower petals piling up on the road. The air turned thicker, heavy with humidity, and all over town, the locals prepared for the summer tourist season. The summer cottages along the shore were booked solid and the beaches were full. Parking along Seaside Boulevard became scarce and Ben reported that Miss Lucille had contacted the police department more than once to complain about people parking in front of her house. There was nothing they could do—street parking was totally legal—but it didn’t stop Miss Lucille from complaining.

  Eva had mixed feelings about summer. She loved the warm weather, but in addition to the increased traffic, Miss Eulalie opened the blinds covering the windows in the workroom that overlooked the boardwalk. Up until recently, they’d been closed, but now Eva molded candies and dipped chocolates under the curious eyes of tourists, who paused their meandering to watch her work. The feeling of so many eyes on her made Eva’s skin prickle, but she kept her head down and tried to focus, placing the finished trays of candy on the rack by the window to tempt the tourists to come in and buy.

  It was a great marketing strategy. The shop was busier than ever. And at least Eva could mostly stay in the back. Miss Eulalie had hired two high school girls to help over the summer, and they ran the front counter while Miss Eulalie flitted between the workroom and the showroom, chatting up customers and helping wherever she could.

  As far as Eva was concerned, the only good thing about the blinds being open was the occasional staccato pattern on the glass when she would look up to see Ben standing there, usually pulling a face to make her laugh. Sometimes he wore shorts and a T-shirt, but usually he was in his uniform, and while the sight of it still made her nerves skid before she realized it was him, he was incredibly sexy.

  When they weren’t working, they spent almost every minute together—on the beach, at the library, or snuggled together on the tiny couch in her apartment watching TV. Eva treasured every moment. It was like someone else’s life, someone who didn’t jolt awake with nightmares and didn’t have dark secrets lurking in the back of her mind. She deeply meant every one of the many kisses they shared.

  She was dipping caramel apples one sunny afternoon when the back of her neck began to prickle, a warning. Shooting a glance from the corner of her eye, she saw a crowd at the window.

  Eva kept her eyes on her work, plunging the bright green apples into the creamy caramel mixture, then pulling them out with just the right amount of spin before placing them on the tray lined with parchment paper. After the caramel solidified, she’d dip them in chocolate and then add a variety of toppings including crushed cookies, chocolate chips, mini M&Ms, and white chocolate drizzles. The caramel apples were big sellers and Miss Eulalie was always coming up with new toppings, though even she admitted the coffee beans and marshmallow crème had taken it a step too far.

  Eva’s nerves prickled again and she shot another nervous glance at the window. A family stood front and center; the three children practically had their noses pressed against the glass as they watched. The parents hung back among a few other adults, but there was no flash of a blue uniform to show that Ben stood there. She gave the crowd a small smile before picking up the tray of apples to carry them to the other side of the shop to cool. Technically, they could cool right where they were, but Eva needed to get away from the window for a minute.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Eva’s worry about the tourists was overshadowed by anxiety over her first swimming lesson.

  “Aren’t we going to the beach?” she asked as Ben turned the car inland.

  “We can if you want,” he replied. “But fresh, calm water is easier to learn in.”

  He drove to the end of the peninsula that made up Indigo Bay and turned towards Charleston. After about half an hour, Ben steered off the main road and onto a dirt lane. “My dad used to bring us here sometimes,” he explained. “Why we thought we needed a swimming hole when we had the ocean outside of our door, who knows? But it was fun.”

  The lane ended at a large pasture, fenced with barbed wire strung between weathered posts. Eva glanced around warily. “We’re not going to meet any bad-tempered bulls or alligators, are we?”

  He laughed. “No bulls and no alligators. But there might be a couple of angry goats.”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “It’s all good. I’d take on a goat for you.”

  “But not a bull or an alligator?” She couldn’t resist teasing.

  “I might need my Taser for those,” Ben admitted as he threw open his door. “C’mon.”

  They held hands as they walked through the tall grass toward the line of trees on the edge of the field. Grasshoppers rose with every footstep, and somewhere, a bird warbled.

  They ducked through the line of trees, and Eva gasped. “I can see why you came here. It’s gorgeous!” The small pond was completely surrounded by heavy trees and brush. Weeping willows dipped their long branches into the turquoise water. There was no beach, the water simply began and was already several feet deep at the bank, where the visible roots of the willows formed complicated lattice designs.

  Ben shrugged out of his shirt and shoes and balanced on a root to dip a toe in the water. “It’s not the warmest, but you get used to it.” He shot her a grin. “Ready?”

  Eva’s heart raced, partly from nerves, but mostly at the sight of bare-chested Ben. What she really wanted was for him to take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe … but they were here for a swimming les
son. The kissing would come later. The thought sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. “Ready.” She nodded as she pulled off her swimsuit cover-up.

  The water came up to mid-thigh and she gasped when she stepped in, clutching at Ben’s arm to keep herself steady.

  “Okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

  Ben led her out to where the water was chest-deep, going slow enough to give her time to get used to the chill. “The first lesson is blowing bubbles,” he said.

  The calm, clear water was very different from the salty ocean swells, and Ben was a good teacher. Soon Eva could completely submerge her head and not panic.

  “You’re doing awesome,” Ben said. “How about we go where it’s deeper and I’ll teach you to tread water?”

  She was okay until her feet couldn’t touch the muddy bottom anymore. Whispered conversations about the Tank rose in her mind, sending waves of panic crashing through her. She clutched Ben’s shoulder.

  “I’ve got you; you’re fine,” he said calmly.

  Eva nodded slightly, knowing he’d never let go of her.

  “The human body floats, so try to relax,” he instructed.

  She did, and to her surprise felt herself rising slightly. She threw Ben a smile.

  He adjusted his grip so he was holding her by the wrists. “Move your hands and legs in small circles.”

  She couldn’t suppress a small squeal of delight when it actually worked and she keep her head above the water without him holding her. But it was amazing how tiring treading water was. Her legs trembled with exhaustion after only a few minutes and she was relieved when Ben guided her back to shallower water.