Beneath Winter Sand

by Vickie McKeehan

  Isabella walked in carrying little Jace.

  “Hey, should you be up?”

  Isabella sent her a wave and laughed. “I had a baby, doesn’t make me an invalid who needs a nursemaid. But if it were up to Thane I’d be strapped to the bed. That man thinks I’ll break if I go to the bathroom.”

  “Aww, that’s kinda sweet. So, your labor and delivery wasn’t that bad?”

  “I didn’t say that. It hurt like hell, but once I held Jace in my arms, I totally forgot about the pain. Want to see him?”

  Hannah held out her arms. “Of course. I love the name you picked out.” She rocked the sleeping infant to her chest. “I wish he was awake so I could see his eyes.”

  “They’re deep blue just like his daddy’s. We had to scramble because Doc Prescott gave me several ultrasounds during my pregnancy and claimed we were having a girl. Imagine our surprise when Jace popped out. It was so funny, too. Quentin is sitting on this stool and tells me to push. I push and he goes, ‘uh, guys, I have seven pounds of baby here, but…surprise…it’s not a girl.’ I thought Thane might faint right there on the spot. For seven months Jonah had us convinced that he was getting a little brother. As it turns out, Jonah knew more than Doc Prescott did.”

  “Want me to fix you a sandwich? I was just about to start on the casserole for dinner.”

  “Bless you. I wouldn’t turn down a glass of milk and a peanut butter sandwich. Here let me have Jace back.”

  Hannah relinquished the baby and watched as Isabella put him down in his infant carrier and took a seat at the table. “Have you thought anymore about managing the co-op? I’m not rushing you, but since Eastlyn’s become a cop, she’s just too busy. I’ve been fortunate enough to get some help from the guys out at Taggert Farms. But with spring coming, they won’t have that much time to devote to the fields at the lighthouse. If money’s the issue I’ll double what I offered you before. I’m desperate for someone to take over before spring gets here and the planting season comes and goes.”

  When Isabella tossed out a salary that topped anything she expected, Hannah blurted out, “That much? Wow. Really?”

  “Yes. Because you’re worth it. Listen to me, I sound like a commercial. But with the degree you have, you’re a perfect match for the job. Your background is more than I could ever dream of getting from any outsider who simply answered my ad.”

  “Okay, I tell you what. Let me ease out of my cleaning business, ease out of waiting tables at The Shipwreck and it’s a deal. Can you make do another three weeks with the extra hands from Taggert Farms?”

  “Do what you have to do. I’ll make it work. I’m just glad to finally get someone of your caliber that I can feel comfortable with knowing your standards will be equal to mine.”

  The next few hours Hannah tidied up the house, dusting, changing sheets on the beds, and putting the finishing touches on dinner. She even had cookies and milk waiting for Jonah when he stormed through the door after school. For one brief flash of memory, the scene took her back to another time and place. She managed to shake off the image of that day so long ago and bring her tasks to a conclusion. When she began to gather up her things, she felt pride in the fact that she’d gotten so much done.

  At four o’clock a text came in from Caleb. We’re still on for tonight, right?

  You bet. Looking forward to it.

  Rain’s forecast.

  I know. You want to cancel?

  No way. See you soon.

  But by the time she loaded up her car with supplies, dark clouds promised to ruin their first real date. By seven, the coastal storm arrived with hail and rain that dumped an inch of water within an hour.

  Despite the downpour, Caleb picked her up on time and held an umbrella while she climbed into his truck. He glanced over to see the vintage Chevy Suburban parked in the driveway.

  “When did you get your wheels back?”

  “Yesterday. You mind telling me what you have planned on a rainy night like tonight?”

  He put the pickup into gear and headed down the street. “I’m taking you to my house. I wanted a place where we could talk and wouldn’t be interrupted by wait staff or the other people in the restaurant.”

  “You sound so serious.”

  “I am. Because I intend to find out about your mysterious side tonight.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not that mysterious.”

  “Ah, but you are. You have this beautiful face that breaks out into the most amazing smile. But that smile hides an unhappiness that’s evident in your eyes. There’s no denying it, Hannah.”

  When they turned onto Cape May, Hannah was surprised to see that the street eventually gave way to rolling hills. With gently slops, she spotted a house surrounded by pretty landscape. All it needed was a babbling brook to be in the middle of the countryside. “I didn’t know this place was out here. This is where you live?”

  “It used to be the old radio station. Because of that it sat on the highest point in town. Not many people realize we ever had one of our own. When I set eyes on it for the first time I was in high school. It intrigued me even then. I came up here one night with a bunch of jerks to drink beer. They ended up throwing rocks and busting out all the windows. You know, like that scene out of It’s a Wonderful Life.”

  “The old Granville house,” Hannah furnished.

  “Yeah, well, at the time, I didn’t have the guts to make the assholes stop chucking rocks. Anyway, once I got serious about moving out of my parents’ house and buying a place of my own, I thought of the old radio station. By that time, the building had set empty for more than fifty years. I thought, what the heck, why not?”

  She watched as the gate swung open. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you renovated a radio station. This…is…so…awesome. I expect the grand tour.”

  “And you’ll get it,” he promised as he unlocked one of the double doors and they stepped into a unique entryway. “It no longer looks like a lobby with concrete floors.”

  She took in the transformation. Caleb had renovated the space into a homey treasure, beginning with the chestnut-stained flooring. The shiplap midway up on the walls had been painted a creamy white.

  She ran her hand along the narrow trestle table against the wall. “This is beautiful wood.”

  “Let me take your coat,” he said, helping her shimmy out of her jacket. “I made that table myself with Cooper’s sweat and labor. I should probably back up and start from the beginning. There was this old guy named Cleef Atkins who owned a farmhouse south of town. A while back, Cleef was murdered by this demented guy who came through town trying to get to Isabella. The fact is the psycho kidnapped her and took her out to Cleef’s place to hide for a few days.”

  “Oh, my God. Jordan was right. Not such an idyllic town, after all.”

  “I told you, we aren’t perfect. After Cleef’s death, Nick and Murphy discovered a will. It seems the old rancher had gone and left everything he owned to the town. The property came with a barn and several outlying buildings filled to the rafters with old junk. At least on the surface that’s what we all thought, it was just rusted out old metal…and scrap. The city council decided to put everything in the barn up for sale and let the townspeople go out there and browse through what Cleef had collected over the years. That’s where it turns amazing. People found treasures they wanted to fix up or recycle. Stuff like old fans and old motors. That’s where Eastlyn found the helicopter she restored. Almost everyone in town found something they could repurpose from what Cleef had left behind. That’s where I picked up the wood to make this table.” He pointed to the transom over the front doors. “And I discovered that beautiful piece of stained glass hiding underneath a stack of old lumber.”

  “Still intact?”

  “Other than some scratches around the edges, it was in perfect condition.”

  “What a wonderful way to remember Mr. Atkins. Every time you look at that piece you’ll know where it came f
rom and recall the day you found it. Do you realize spreading around his treasures like that he’s already become a part of so many homes well after he’s gone? I can’t think of a better way to put all the junk he saved from going to the landfill to good use, can you? How many years do you suppose he hoarded this stuff?”

  “Probably six decades.”

  “Is everything picked over?”

  Caleb cocked a brow. “There’s acres of finds left. If you want I could take you out there to see for yourself sometime.”

  “If there’s anything left, sure. I’d love to spend the day browsing through the place.”

  “Want something to drink?”

  “Sure. A beer would be fine. But I want to see the rest of the house first.”

  She trailed after him into the kitchen and stopped to admire a room that would make any chef proud. “Don’t tell me this island and countertop were repurposed stuff, too?”

  “Absolutely. Much of the materials I used in this house came from Cleef’s barn. And you know that Chevy you were driving? Wally found that in Cleef’s old shed. All Wally did to get it up and running was to put in new spark plugs and replace the carburetor. He got all the rust off, put on a coat of primer, and painted the outside, getting it almost to the original shade of blue.”

  “I’m amazed there’s people out there who can do that sort of thing. I wish I had that kind of talent.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that wonderful smell?”

  “Dinner. Roast chicken with rosemary potatoes.”

  “You make a house out of an old abandoned building and you cook? Why hasn’t some sharp-eyed Pelican Pointe female snapped you up by now?”

  “I’m not in the market to be snapped up.”

  “Aww, that’s a shame. Did you send out a bulletin stating that?”

  He grabbed her hand. “Come on, smartass. Do you want to see the rest of the house or not?”

  “Definitely.”

  He showed her his study, his bedroom, and the former executive offices he’d stripped down to the bare walls and converted the space into his video game room.

  “But I saved the best for last.” He led her through a passageway and to a staircase that went down to a secret room that at one time had been used as a bomb shelter. It was located directly underneath what was now his guest room. “I use it for storing emergency water and other supplies in the event of an earthquake.”

  Hannah surveyed the eight by ten-foot chamber with its shelves full of paper towels and toilet paper and food stuff. “That’s the tiniest supply room I’ve ever seen, but it makes for a good catch-all, I suppose. It looks like you’re ready for anything Armageddon-like.”

  “Hey, the Zombie apocalypse could happen.”

  She hooted with laughter. “I like the way you think. But I want to see the backyard. It looks like you have a lot of land here.”

  “It’s pouring rain,” Caleb pointed out as they made their way back upstairs.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “How about if I show you the deck from the kitchen instead? I put more of the reclaimed wood to use that I found at Cleef’s place. There was enough to stretch twenty feet across using the largest planked lumber he had.”

  “Weathered with sunlight and age. I like it.”

  “I usually drink my coffee out there…when it’s not pouring rain, that is.”

  “It’s a perfect spot. I bet the view of the rolling hills is amazing. How far back does your property go?”

  “There’s a drainage ditch back there. That’s where the property line ends.”

  “Does it ever flood?”

  “Nope, the runoff from the rain goes directly down to the ocean.”

  When he heard her stomach growl, he snatched her hand and led her back into the kitchen. “Will you set the table while I take out the chicken. I hope it’s okay. I’ve kept it on warm for more than an hour now.”

  “It smells delicious. It’ll be fine. I’m not that picky. I’ll eat just about anything.”

  She got out dishes and silverware and took them into the dining room while he unloaded the oven.

  He opened a bottle of merlot and lit candles before they sat down to eat. “I still can’t get over this overwhelming feeling that we’re connected in some way.”

  She took a sip of the red. “I hope you aren’t suggesting that we’re long lost brother and sister because…that would be…weird.”

  He laughed. “Don’t even go there. I couldn’t handle that.” But then he caught the look on her face. “Are you saying you have a brother out there somewhere?”

  “Who knows? Maybe. I’m adopted so anything’s possible. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Look at your perfect family.”

  Caleb set his wine glass down on the table determined to set her straight. “My perfect family? Which one? The one I had before I was adopted was…” He laughed again. “Not perfect. The one after…pretty damn close. I’m adopted, just like you. Maybe that’s our connection.”

  “That’s kind of an eerie coincidence. Maybe we are brother and sister and just don’t know it yet.” She knew Caleb was too old to be Micah, but joking around with him about it seemed to push a whole series of buttons.

  He frowned into his glass. “Nope. Not possible. I know who my real Mom and Dad are. Were. They had three kids they managed to screw up. Royally. Well, at least my mother did, anyway. If you count the half-brother my mother had at the age of fifteen, I believe all her children are accounted for, even if Jonathan Matthews is locked up in jail now.” He sipped his wine again. “Maybe I should check and see when he’s up for parole. How’s that for your perfect family?”

  His attitude explained the dark aura around him. “No doubt your mother’s part of those ghosts you mentioned. Is she still living?”

  “Absolutely. Locked up in Chowchilla. And yours?”

  “It’s a long, ugly story.”

  Caleb chuckled. “However ugly your story is I bet I can top it.”

  Her eyes narrowed before cracking a grin. “A challenge, huh? Then you go first.”

  “Let’s see. I’m not sure this is suitable dinner conversation, but here goes. My mother killed my father and his girlfriend when I was around four years old, shot them with a .38 while they were sitting beneath the pier in town. According to my older brother, Cooper, it was a long, brutal night, especially when she woke him up, being her oldest boy—to help her dig a grave so she could get rid of the bodies. Are you with me so far?”

  Chills went up Hannah’s arms. “Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry.”

  “You might want to save your sympathy for my siblings and the dead. Because later, the crazy bitch—her name’s Eleanor, by the way—Eleanor decided to fake her own death, and, in the process, put her own kids in jeopardy. She didn’t give a shit about what might happened to us.”

  “How terribly sad.”

  “I don’t even remember the incident. But Cooper and Drea do. They said Eleanor loaded all of us in a boat that didn’t even belong to her. She rowed her three little kids out into the middle of Smugglers Bay, and proceeded to jump overboard right there in front of us, making us all believe she’d drowned herself.”

  Hannah swallowed hard. “Trust me, it’s a good thing you have no memory of something like that.”

  He stared at her from across the table. “Please don’t tell me you can top that.”

  “Uh, well, here’s the deal. Maybe that connection you feel, we both feel, is because we came from the same type of monsters.”

  “Oh no, not you, too. I’m sensing we may need an impartial judge here to determine who gets the prize.”

  “Maybe. I was six when it happened. And remember every detail about that day. I was at school when my father took his gun and shot my mother in the head and then turned it on himself. The strange thing is I had a little brother in that house the same time it happened. His name was Micah and he was only six months old. Some neighbor heard the shots and called the
cops. It took them only a few minutes to get there. But somehow, after it happened, some strange woman showed up pretending to be from Social Services. She flashed a phony badge—that part’s unclear by the way—and took Micah out of the house. She told anyone curious enough to ask that she planned to take him to the hospital to get checked out.”

  “And they believed her?”

  “Apparently.” Hannah picked up her glass of wine. “But here’s the twist. No woman ever showed up at any of the area hospitals. Not in the state. Not anywhere. The authorities checked every clinic every hospital, even every doctor’s office within five hundred miles and found nothing. Even before I turned eighteen I was obsessed with finding him. I started searching myself. I’ve been looking for my kid brother, Micah, ever since without any luck.”

  Caleb rubbed his chin. “That’s disturbing…and eerie. So how long after that were you adopted?”

  “The summer I turned nine. I spent a little more than three years in the system, moving from foster family to foster family, a total of eight over something like forty months.”

  “Rough way to grow up. I was lucky. My mother’s brother took us in. Who adopted you?”

  “A nice couple from the ’burbs. Goodhearted people. Denton and Christine Summers were in their thirties, didn’t think they could have kids so they adopted. Lucky me. No really, I hit the lotto with them. I thought at the time it was an omen. You know, a good one. It was, after all, summertime and I was going to live with a family named Summers in a trendy neighborhood in San Mateo. In my nine-year-old mind, I’d get to hang out at the beach, or rollerblade along the boardwalk. Life was finally looking up for me. Then about six months after I joined their little family, Christine discovered she was pregnant. We were all thrilled. One night she went into labor. Denton took her to the hospital. I got a call that she’d had the baby, nothing out of the ordinary, everything was fine. And then, something went horribly wrong after delivery. The doctors told Denton that Christine had suffered a massive brain aneurysm that caused her to have a stroke. Those first few weeks afterward, Denton put her in a long-term care facility.” Hannah looked away, bit her lip to keep from crying.