Understanding struck like a blow to his gut, winding him. Dora believed him to be his father.
“My God, you are insane,” Samuel said, his voice incredulous. He tried to shake her off, but she clung to him, wrapping her arms around him, holding on tight, like a tenacious strand of seaweed.
“Dora, let him go,” Sheriff Broward commanded. Samuel never thought he’d be so glad to hear the sound of Sheriff Broward’s voice. The other man stepped up beside them. He took Dora by the shoulders and yanked her away from Samuel.
The woman screamed in outrage, fighting the sheriff’s restraining hands.
Free at last, Samuel didn’t look back as he ran into the burning house.
Jessie pounded on the door, hoping against hope that someone might hear her. The wood felt hot against the palm of her hand. Smoke filled the pantry, choking her.
Coughing, she called out, “Is anyone there?”
Only the roar of the fire outside the door answered.
It was hopeless. She was trapped. There was no way anyone would find her in time.
“Oh, Samuel, Samuel…I’m so sorry,” Jessie murmured, feeling light-headed from the smoke and the lack of oxygen. Pounding her fist one last time against the door, slowly she slumped to the floor.
By the time it was over and done, she told herself, there would be one more reason for Samuel to blame himself for what had happened. She didn’t want to die. But even more, she didn’t want Samuel to suffer.
He’d been through enough pain in his lifetime.
He didn’t need to add her death to his already over-burdened conscience.
The smoke grew thicker by the second. Wheezing, she struggled to find air. Too weak to fight any longer, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. It thumped against the wooden panel of the door.
At the sound, a muffled voice called out to her, “Jessie!”
Jessie’s eyes flew open. The deep voice sounded so familiar. But was it real? Or was it merely a figment of her smoke-clouded imagination?
Footsteps sounded outside the door—sharp, heavy footsteps against the tiled floor. Once again the voice called out her name, “Jessie!”
“Samuel,” she said, her voice hoarse from inhaling the black smoke. Clumsily she turned, rising to her knees. She lifted her fist, striking weakly against the door. “Samuel!”
“Jessie, thank God! Everything’s going to be all right now. I’m going to get you out of there,” Samuel’s deep voice assured her.
She wanted to believe him. More than anything else in the world, she wanted everything to be right.
The knob rattled. The lock clicked free. And finally the door swung open. Wincing from the searing rush of heat, she blinked hard, clearing the hot smoke from her eyes. Framed by the flames, Samuel stood in the doorway, his arms extended, reaching for her.
Tears of relief welled up in her eyes. Nearly collapsing, she fell forward, letting him take on her weight. Half leading, half carrying her, Samuel hurried her through the smoke-filled kitchen to the safety of the back door.
They stepped outside. Holding on to each other, gasping in cleansing breaths of air, they didn’t stop until they saw Dora standing on the edge of the porch.
Dora’s clothes were stained with dirt and ashes. Her glasses were gone. An angry red bruise marked her cheek. She stared at Samuel, her eyes blinking in disbelief. “Samuel…no. How could you do this? How could you betray me?”
“Dora, I haven’t betrayed you,” Samuel said, his voice sounding tired, defeated. He frowned. “What happened? Where’s Sheriff Broward?”
Dora gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Gone. He thought he could stop me.”
Samuel stared at her. “You aren’t well. You need help.”
The older woman shook her head. “No, Samuel. I need you.”
“Dora, I’m not who you think I am.” He sighed. “I’m not my father.”
“No, no, I won’t listen.” Dora clapped her hands over her ears. Trembling, she screamed, “Eve must die. It’s not too late. We can still be together.”
“It is too late,” Samuel insisted, the pitch of his voice rising. Releasing his grip around Jessie, he pushed her behind him, making sure she was out of harm’s way. Unable to find the strength to stop him, Jessie watched as he stepped toward the other woman, toward danger. “Dora, we can’t change the past. It’s time we faced the future. No matter what it might bring.” He held out his hand. “Come with me, Dora. I’ll make sure that you’re safe.”
“No…I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.” Dora backed away, shaking her head. Her eyes wild, she swung her gaze to Jessie. “All you care about is that…that tramp.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she turned back to Samuel. “How could you have done this to me, Samuel? How?”
Before he could stop her, she whirled on her heel and ran into the flaming house.
“Dora, no…”
Samuel’s stunned voice echoed in Jessie’s ears. She reached out to stop him, but he moved too quickly. Jessie cried out in alarm as he ran into the house after Dora.
Chapter 16
Jessie stood by the empty patrol car, huddled in a scratchy wool blanket, shivering uncontrollably as she watched Gull’s Cottage burn to the ground. She felt chilled from the inside out. The narrow lane was clogged with fire trucks, police cars and an ambulance. A crowd of people gathered, pressing against the yellow, crime-scene tape for a better view of the destruction.
A shudder of revulsion shook her body. A bitter taste filled her mouth. She felt sick to her stomach. Sick at the loss. Sick at the utter waste of human lives.
Too many people had died because of one woman’s twisted fantasy.
Dora Hawkins had killed her mother. For years, she’d covered up her crime, allowing the man she’d professed to love to take the blame. In doing so, she had destroyed his life and the lives of his family.
Jessie’s eyes searched the crowd. Relief poured through her as she spotted Samuel standing by the ambulance, talking to Sheriff Broward.
His blond hair was dirty and tousled. Black grime smudged his face. His clothes were coated with a thick layer of dust and ash. He wore a bandage on his arm—the white dressing standing out against his tanned skin—where a falling timber had singed him. But other than that one small injury, he’d come out of the burning building unscathed.
A miracle had brought him back to her.
When he’d disappeared into Gull’s Cottage that last time, she truly believed she’d lost him for good. Her heart nearly ripped in two at the thought of facing life without him. So devastated at the prospect, she’d almost thrown herself into the flames after him.
Sheriff Broward had stopped her. He’d held her back, telling her it was too late. The flames were too strong. No one could survive the ordeal.
But Samuel had survived. He’d walked out of the cottage empty-handed, unable to save Dora.
Guilt pricked Jessie’s heart. Guilt because she could not bring herself to mourn the loss of the woman who had brought so much suffering into her life. Bitterly she acknowledged that the only emotion she could muster was pity. Pity for the pathetic lie Dora had forced them all to live.
As though sensing her troubled thoughts, Samuel glanced at Jessie, a worried frown on his brow. He turned to Sheriff Broward, speaking words she could not hear. The sheriff nodded. Then both men made their way toward her.
With his hands stuffed in his back pockets, Samuel came to an awkward halt in front of her. “Sheriff Broward says it’s all right for us to leave.”
Jessie nodded, feeling numb inside, confused by the distance he kept between them. Too much had happened. Too much had been risked. She longed for the reassurance of Samuel’s touch.
“Samuel’s truck will be blocked in for quite some time. Purty will drive you home,” Sheriff Broward said, nodding at the deputy who stood waiting nearby. Hesitating, he cleared his throat and stared at the scorched remains of Gull’s Cottage, unable to meet their eyes. “Abo
ut this mess, I…I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry. I have no excuse for not listening to you when you tried to come to me for help. No excuse, except for being mule-headed.”
“Sheriff…” Jessie began softly.
“No, let me finish,” he said, brushing away her attempt to stop him. The big man shifted uncomfortably, his boots scraping against the soot-blackened gravel. “Jessie, when your mother was still alive, I was young and cocky. I thought I had the whole world by its throat. Eve was the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I fell hard for her. So hard, I couldn’t believe she wasn’t interested in me. Seeing her with Samuel’s daddy only made matters worse. Knowing she’d preferred him over me—”
He closed his mouth with a click, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he worked his way through an unreadable emotion. “Well, let’s just say the green-eyed monster got the better of me. I let my feelings influence my judgment. So much so, I couldn’t see what was really happening. Because of me, an innocent man was convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.” His cautious gaze shifted from her to Samuel. “Samuel, I’m not proud of the way I’ve treated you. I’ve taken a lot of my frustrations out on you all these years. And I put both of you in danger by being so pigheaded. For that I’m truly sorry.”
Jessie didn’t say a word. It had taken a great deal of courage for the sheriff to admit he’d been wrong. She held her breath, waiting to see how Samuel would respond.
“The past is over,” Samuel finally said, his voice tired. He blew out a slow, resigned breath. “We can’t change it. We can’t let it weigh us down, either. All we can do is get on with our lives the best we can.”
Sheriff Broward listened thoughtfully. Then, with a curt nod of his head, he said, “Right. Well, I’d best be letting the two of you go. We’ll talk again, once things have settled down.” Squaring his shoulders, he turned on his heel and strode away from them.
Finally alone, Jessie looked up into Samuel’s eyes. There she saw myriad confusing emotions—relief, sadness, tender concern and bitter regret.
Before she could question him on the latter, he glanced away, scanning the growing crowd of onlookers. With a disgusted note to his voice, he said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Jessie didn’t move, realizing for the first time that she had no place to go. Gull’s Cottage was gone forever. A fact which, not surprisingly, she didn’t regret. To her, Gull’s Cottage had represented everything bad in her life. In her mind it would always be the house where her mother had died. Not once had she ever felt safe within its walls. Now, after all that had happened, Atlanta seemed a vague and distant memory. Returning to her former life seemed as unappealing as the loneliness it promised.
The truth was she had no place to call her own.
She had no home.
“Jessie?”
Startled, Jessie looked up to see Samuel watching her, his concern obvious. Frowning, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
She gave a stilted smile. “I was just trying to decide where I’m supposed to go.”
“You can come home with me…for now.”
Not quite the response she’d hoped. Wounded but not defeated she refused to look away. “And later? Where should I go then?”
For a long moment their gazes clashed in an unspoken battle of wills. The silence strained between them. His lack of response spoke volumes, answering her question more clearly than any excuse he could possibly give.
Samuel wanted her to leave Prudence Island.
“It’s finished,” he said finally, his flat tone shattering the silence. “Gull’s Cottage is gone. Your mother’s death has been solved. There’s no reason for you to stay. Whenever you’re ready, you’ll go home to Atlanta.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. She had thought he cared for her. They’d been through so much together. And now he was ready to push her out of his life—forever—without so much as a second thought. “Do you want me to leave Prudence Island?”
“No, dammit,” he ground out, his jaw tightening with barely controlled emotion. Glancing at the crowd, he lowered his voice and said, “That’s not what I want at all.”
Her vision blurred with unwanted tears. She shook her head, feeling ridiculously close to blubbering like a baby. “First you tell me I should leave. Then you tell me you want me to stay. I don’t understand, Samuel.”
“Don’t you?” He caught her gaze, holding it with his. “I love you, Jessie. I want you to stay here with me more than anything else in the world. But you don’t belong here. Dammit, Jessie! I’m nothing but a shrimper, living a hand-to-mouth existence. What kind of life is that to offer?”
“Do you think that matters to me?” Hot tears welled up in her eyes. This time, she allowed them freedom. Teardrops streaming down her face, her voice trembling, she said, “Nothing matters but being with you.” At his look of surprise, she smiled. “I do love you, Samuel. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than to make my home here with you…if you’ll have me.”
“If I’ll have you?” He gave an incredulous laugh. “Jessie, I didn’t know how I was ever going to let you go.”
“Oh, Samuel…I wouldn’t want you to.”
Ignoring the curious crowd of onlookers, the man who’d spent his life worrying about what others thought of him pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. She melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his powerful body close to hers. By the time the kiss ended, both of them were breathless.
Refusing to let her go, he said, “I’ve been alone for too long, Jessie. From the minute I saw you, I wanted you to be a part of my life. We’ve got more than just a past to make up for. We’ve got a future to live. I promise you I’ll do my best to make it a happy one.”
“As long as we’re together it will be,” she whispered.
Closing her eyes and holding him tight, she let the soft tide of contentment wash over her.
Epilogue
“Hurry or we’re going to be late,” Jessie gently chided the toddler, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. The little girl had dark hair like her mother’s, pale blue eyes like her father’s and the face of an angel.
Not to mention the curiosity of a kitten.
As Jessie hurried down the dock toward the Marianna, her daughter, Grace, named because her appearance in their lives had been an answer to their prayers, had other ideas. A sundial, washed onto shore, had caught her eye. Pointing a chubby finger, she cooed, “Pretty, Mommy. Pretty.”
“Yes, Grace. It’s very pretty.” She scooped the squirming child up into her arms, breathing in the sweet scent of her tiny body. “But right now, we have to find Daddy.”
“Daddy,” Grace repeated, her face lighting with a cherubic smile.
Jessie gave a contented sigh. Five years had passed since the fire at Gull’s Cottage. During which time Prudence Island had become her home. She and Samuel had married, making their vow to stay together official. Samuel’s shrimping business had flourished. So much so, he was considering the purchase of a second boat. Her illustrations were selling well. Last year she’d authored her first children’s book as well as illustrating it. Two years ago Grace arrived, making their world complete.
Over the years there had been many changes in their lives. Now Jessie wondered how Samuel would feel about one more.
Placing a hand on her tummy, she calmed a bout of butterflies. Her tennis shoes slapped against the wooden dock as she quickened her step. Up ahead, she saw the blue and white colors of the Marianna.
Jacob waved from the deck of the boat. His salt-and-pepper beard contained more salt than ever before. But he was still spry on his feet, and the most knowledgeable seaman Jessie had ever met. And he loved to dote on Grace, as proud as any surrogate grandfather. “We were worried about you,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Just about ready to send out the Coast Guard for a search.”
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” Jessie said, handing Grace up to him on the deck. O
nce her hands were free, she clambered onboard. “My appointment ran longer than expected.”
Jacob rubbed one of Grace’s plump cheeks. “This little one’s gotten some sun. She’s as pink as a rose petal.”
“Not from the sun, I’m afraid. She had a temper tantrum on the way to the car. Seems she didn’t want to pass up the swings in the park across from the doctor’s building.”
“Stubborn little thing.” Jacob chuckled, as he passed the child back to Jessie. With a conspiratorial wink, he nodded toward the pilothouse. “Reminds ya of someone else, doesn’t she?”
Jessie smiled as she glanced over to where Samuel stood watching them intently, an impatient expression on his handsome face. Her stomach lurched with awareness. Smiling, she realized that even after all these years, he still had the power to make her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. Drawing in a steadying breath, she stepped toward her husband.
“Well?” he asked, his voice gruff, though Jessie saw the tender concern in his blue eyes. He really was just a softy at heart. “What did the doctor say?”
“Well,” Jessie said slowly, prolonging his agony. “He said I was as healthy as a horse. Not a cough, not a sniffle…just perfect.”
He raised a brow. “And?”
“And…I’m pregnant. Eight weeks to be exact. How does a winter baby sound to you?”
“Sounds wonderful,” he said, pulling both her and Grace into a bear hug.
Grace giggled, used to being the middle of a human sandwich. She wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and squeezed as tightly as she could.
Chuckling, Samuel took her from Jessie’s arms. Before releasing her, he bent to help himself to a kiss from his wife, his lips lingering with the promise of more to come later. Reluctantly he stepped away. Calling out to Jacob and Billy that it was time to cast off, he carefully suited up Grace in her own tiny life vest. Once finished, he seated himself at the wheel, placing his daughter on his lap.
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