“I’ll bet you had them shaking in their boots,” she said, grinning. “Are you excited about starting at the Quinn Home?”
“I brought my tossing game and a bag of marbles. That should keep them busy for a couple hours.”
“Perfect. I found the books in the attic that my mother read to me as a child. I plan to instill some hope into young minds. The girls love it when I read to them.”
And that’s how the evening went. After helping the boys finish up their chores, Troy played outside until dusk. Even Drake joined in at the last before they all retired to the porch with a glass of sweet tea. That’s where Bethany found them after tucking the younger ones in bed for the night.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said, casting her gaze around the small group. “Did you boys show Mr. Spencer how to win at his own game?”
That made the boys laugh, and she could see from their expressions that their new friend, Troy, had secured a place inside their scarred hearts.
They waved to Drake and Angela as they left the Orphanage. A short distance away, Troy reached for her hand. “Thank you for inviting me. I think I got more out of the evening than the boys.”
“Not more, but I have discovered a joy in serving others,” said Bethany.
“The place is really run down. Embarrassed to say I’ve never been out here.”
“I want to supply the wood to build an addition, but the mill operation can barely keep up with the orders that are pouring in, even working a full twelve-hour day.”
“If you’re paying for the wood, I’d like to share in the cost.”
“That’s generous of you but unnecessary. I will take it out of my pay, as my father does not feel the same attachment to the Quinn house as me. But I still have the problem of hiring workers to get the job done. My meager savings will not pay the price contractors charge.”
“It will all come together in God’s time. Let’s watch for an opportunity and run with it.”
“I’m not due home until nine,” Bethany said. “Would you care to sit on the stumps we saw the other day and start a small campfire?”
“What a splendid idea.” Troy grabbed her hand. “I love dreaming by firelight, and we have much to dream about.” He winked, and they set off.
Her recently awakened doubts were too fresh to voice, so the couple enjoyed a much-needed quiet time to end their day. Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday at the office and the hours sped by. Bethany and Troy left their workplaces early and headed for Lookout to make good her promise to help Arne clean the second floor. This time around, she experienced no trepidation at the prospect of entering the lighthouse. It had been silly of her to live all these years with fear stealing the opportunity to explore this landmark, a crucial part of her hometown.
Troy knocked on the door, but no one answered. He opened it and peeked inside. “Arne, you in here!” he yelled.
“Perhaps he’s on top watching for vessels in the bay,” Bethany said.
“Let’s go see.”
Together they mounted the steel steps, moved past the second floor, and arrived on the platform that led outside. Sure enough, Arne Svensson was bent over some piece of equipment. He noticed them and waved.
“Welcome, again. Got me a problem with this mechanism, but I think I got it mastered. Be back together in no time.”
“Can I help?” asked Troy.
“You can keep watch. The main lights only been down five minutes, but I can’t keep jumping up to check if boats are out there. Here’s this emergency light in case you see something. Won’t be much longer here.”
“Where is your assistant?” Bethany asked.
“Hamlin?” he asked, laughing. “Seems he’s always gone when you two come calling. Said he had some business to tend to in town.”
“Isn’t that the way it always is? Nothing breaks when helps around.”
“You folks coming along is perfect timing,” said Arne.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to put a semblance of order into the second floor. You two can join me later.”
Bethany turned back inside and climbed down the short distance to begin the task at hand. She scanned the room. Many areas were littered with equipment, boxes, and miscellaneous things the keepers had dropped in haste, items an outsider would have no idea as to its use. The far corner loomed like a mountain, and she suspected if this floor hid any secrets, it would be found under that dusty mound.
She found a ladder and started from the top, pulling down boxes and opening them to see their contents. Most contained similar items stacked on the other side of the room, so she slid those over to keep it all together in one location. Soon she’d dug low enough to push the ladder aside. The content of the boxes she now began to pull out concealed general items used in everyday life. It was when she spotted the large crate hidden under piles of rubble and pushed into the corner that chills swept over her.
Inching closer, she leaned over the container and brushed her rag across the inch-thick hard crust of dust. The bare wood gleamed through as she cleaned the boards. Lettering arose from the grime, and she scrubbed harder. When the printed words came into full view, she gasped: Personal Property of Simone Charter.
Resting back on her heels, Bethany inhaled deeply, hoping to regain composure. It was everything she’d prayed to find, but now staring at it brought the same fear she’d experienced in the attic. What secrets lay within?
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped.
“Sorry. You looked so intense over here. The light’s up and running, and now we’re here to help,” said Troy. “You’ve been a busy beaver.”
“Tried to organize piles of similar items so Arne could sift through them easier.” She pointed to the inscription. “Look what I found.”
Troy whistled. “Well, I’ll be. I figured we were on a wild goose chase here but tagged along to secure more of that good feeling in helping a neighbor. Not to diminish the benefit of spending more time with my girl.”
Bethany frowned. “You’re just in time for the unveiling.”
“Glad you waited for me.” A smile spread across his face. “Let me find a hammer to open the crate.”
On his way back, he passed Arne who’d just joined them from the balcony. “Found a crate with Bethany’s mother’s name on it. Finders keepers, right?”
“She is family. I sure don’t want it.”
“That’s what I needed to hear.”
Troy returned to the corner and began to pry the nails from the slats that held the top boards. With each squeak of old nails easing from the wood, Bethany’s heart did backflips, until the last plank lay off to the side. Straw covered the contents, the last hindrance before the unveiling.
“Last chance for a private viewing,” Troy said, giving her the choice to bask in this moment alone.
“Such a gentleman – but no. I’d like you to share the discovery of this memory box with me.”
Together they removed the packing and laid it to the side. Inside, lay a complete box of items needed to outfit a home. Dishes, fancy doilies, needlepoint pictures in frames, hand-stitched cloth, quilts, embroidered towels, glass vases, but the cream on the top of this find was the wedding dress. Bethany unwrapped it with care and stared at the satin glamor gown.
“Do you think your mother wore it when she married your father?”
“I doubt it. It’d be in the attic, not the lighthouse.”
Troy touched the bottom of her chin and pivoted her head until her teary eyes confronted him. “Do you think her daughter might consider wearing it when she walks down the aisle?”
Bethany bit her trembling lip and said weakly, “Likely.”
“I hope to be the one at the altar awaiting your arrival,” said Troy, intensity replacing the playfulness she felt most comfortable with. He expected her to say yes. She watched his expression lighten and exhaled as the tickling wrinkle appeared at the corner of his passionate eyes. Without trying, he reached deep into her soul to yan
k free yet another captive ache that lodged there.
Her voice whispered, “Oh, Troy. I am so happy and confused at the same time. It scares me.”
He kissed her on the mouth, slow and gentle, and when she opened her eyes again, she reconciled to the fact that she was falling in love with Deputy Troy Spencer.
Chapter 7
Unexpected Visitor
Friday, Ms. Fletcher filled two bowls of oatmeal, setting them in front of Bethany before hurrying off to the counter to continue washing dishes. Father had left on his business trip and hoped to return for Sunday service. She glanced at the steaming bowls then back to the housekeeper.
“Are you all right?” Bethany asked.
Ms. Fletcher glanced toward the table, but Bethany noticed the unusual nervousness in her actions. “Certainly.”
“Your actions say otherwise.” Bethany lifted the woman’s untouched bowl into the air. “Why don’t you come and eat your cereal?”
Jane Fletcher wiped her dripping hands on the apron that hung from her waist. “For heaven’s sake, girl.” She marched to the table, stared at the bowl, and almost left again. She sighed and joined Bethany. “Maybe I will grab a bite. Got a busy day ahead of me.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Tell me about your plans.”
“Why?” she said somewhat bitterly. “Do I have to answer to you now that your father is out of town?”
Her rebuke took Bethany aback. “I apologize. No harm intended. I was simply curious as to your plans.” She lifted her spoon, filling her mouth with oatmeal so as not to offend her again.
“I’m sorry, that was rude,” Ms. Fletcher said. “I have shopping to do today, and I’m meeting someone for lunch.”
Bethany brightened. “Should I be planning a special occasion for you?”
Jane’s face contorted. “How preposterous! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Well, I did mention recently that you should be on a hunt for male prospects, and now a sudden luncheon? You must admit, you rarely lunch at the café.”
“Who said anything about the café?”
“Process of elimination. Unless it’s a picnic,” Bethany teased shaking a finger under her nose. “Now don’t you let him steal all your time, young lady.”
Ms. Fletcher clicked her tongue with annoyance. “I’m not a young lady, and no one steals my time. An acquaintance is coming to town, and we usually meet up. Nothing more than that. The man is up in years – not sure how many times he’ll be back.”
“Where does he live?”
“Nosing where you don’t belong, child?”
“Just asking. Is it a secret?”
“Not at all. He is what you young folks label a hermit. Lives in the Tillamook Forest somewhere and comes for supplies twice a year. I’ll not be joining the gentleman in the wilderness, so you needn’t fear that I’ll be giving up my position anytime soon.”
Bethany groped for the right response. Could he be the old keeper of the light she’d seen in the picture at Lookout Rock? And how did Ms. Fletcher know him? Her eyes would certainly be peeled out the window around the noon hour, just in case a loose end in the investigation hiked into town today. She debated bringing Troy in on this discovery then chided herself for the hesitation. Could it be she unconsciously looked for opportunities to exclude him from her life? Such a misunderstanding might create a rift in their relationship, one she could use as a valid argument for their eventual demise. Is that what she wanted – an excuse to break off with him?
Unspeakable behavior! In the past, she’d called such women fickle when watching them play silly games with the hearts of men. Again, she gave it over to the lord and stuffed her mouth with one final bite from her bowl. She couldn’t show up at the café without Ms. Fletcher suspecting something, so the debate to notify Troy ended with a loud exhale.
While wiping the corners of her lips with the napkin, Bethany rose to her feet. “Enjoy your luncheon. I have lots to do this morning, Ms. Fletcher, so I best be off.” Grabbing her bag, Bethany called back. “You have a nice day, and don’t worry about supper. The fridge is full of leftovers that I can heat up, and I’m off to the Quinn house tonight. Won’t be back till late. Troy will be with me, so don’t fret.”
“What’s the world coming to? You never stay at home anymore.”
“I hope that means you miss me.” Bethany blew a kiss through the air to the startled woman.
She stammered. “Of course, I do. After all these years, you’re like my own kin.”
Stunned, Bethany never answered. Other than caring for Bethany’s needs, the woman had never spoken or acted like she saw herself as part of the family. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Bethany cared for the woman, but after countless rejections as a child, while seeking to satisfy her much-desired need for a mother figure, the nanny remained aloof and pushed her away. She’d grown accustomed to their roles, and today’s response took her by surprise.
A boulder propped against the door of the jailhouse. Bethany squeezed through the open gap and walked inside. “Airing the place out, Sheriff Hobbs?”
He dropped the legs of his straight-backed chair to the floor and stood to his feet. “Needs it after the drunk puked everywhere in his cell last night. Made him clean it up this morning and sent the troublemaker on his way.”
Bethany smiled. Sometimes loggers acted up just to have a quiet place to sleep in town before heading back to basecamp. Many single men worked in the surrounding sites along the river, but most built houses in Spruce Hill when the right match joined them at the altar.
“Is Deputy Spencer in yet,” she asked.
A broad grin covered his face. “Ah, chasing the man, are you? He told me he was courting you.”
“I’m not chasing, sir, simply confirming an appointment.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days – appointments?”
Troy walked into the room. “Lay off the woman, Sheriff. Don’t want you to scare her away.” He motioned for Bethany to follow him. “Join me in my office, Miss Forester.”
Once inside, he closed the door, and she collapsed against it. “Really! Do all people like to tease when couples show an interest in getting to know one another better?”
“Not sure. Suppose it brings one’s courting days to remembrance.” He took her hand. “You are lovely this morning. To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?”
“I’m so excited, but so afraid I’ll miss it.”
“Slow down. What don’t you want to miss?”
“I think our retired lighthouse keeper is coming to town today. I really hope I’m not reading Ms. Fletcher wrong.”
“Christopher Bascall? Your housekeeper knows the man?”
“She is meeting up with an elderly hermit friend who lives out around Puffin Point and comes to Spruce Hill twice a year for supplies. They do lunch at the café when he comes to town. It has to be our man.”
“Interesting. I am scheduled to do rounds today – keep the peace in our fair town. Noon sounds like a good time to do a walk around.”
“I’m going to the Densley’s General Goods and see if he’s our man,” said Bethany.
“And what if he is? Will you question him right there and then? Worse yet, maybe Jane Fletcher will be with him, and you’ll be caught red-handed.”
Bethany’s brows furrowed. “No, that would not suit our purpose. But I’d like to know how friendly those two are. I’ll hide in the back while I snoop. Surely between the two of us, we can overhear something that will help our case. Then when they’re done, before he disappears into the woods, we can follow and ask questions then.”
Troy paced the floor, his fingers spread beneath his chin and deep in thought. He stopped and turned to her. “Okay, here’s the plan. You listen from the back of the store while he’s there. Hopefully, no one will recognize you. When I see him and Ms. Fletcher head for the café, I might get a sudden urge for lunch, and I’ll secure a table nearby.”
&n
bsp; “Close, but not too obvious, right?”
“Right, boss,” he said, his boyish grin beaming and ensnaring her emotions as easy-bait.
“Does it bother you that I have a head on my shoulders, which is suited for more than keeping a man’s home?”
“On the contrary. I enjoy being able to open up to you and receive sound feedback.”
“Good, because I have no intention of changing.” That declared, Bethany’s thoughts returned to the afternoon looming ahead of them. “This detective work is rather exciting, Troy. I may have to change vocations.”
He laughed. “No, I think I prefer you safe and sound behind your desk at the Forester Mill or better yet, tucked in our little cabin minding the babies.”
“Do you suspect that a woman can have both?” she asked.
“Be mighty hard to jiggle those two lives.”
She stood tall and pasted on a smile. “Yes, well, I’m off to the mill. I’ll track down Wernicke and let him know I’ll be in and out most of the afternoon. Trudy can take care of any details that pop up.”
“And I’ll drop by after the duo part company, and Bascall is loaded and ready to leave.”
“Then we shall, hopefully, get some answers. Oh, Troy, I feel like we’re so close.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Bethany. Things don’t always turn out the way we want.”
“A negative attitude does not suit someone who dreams to solve the crimes of the world.”
“Step by step, follow the clues, and the mystery will come to you,” Troy said. “Read that little rhyme in a book somewhere. It stuck with me.”
“I shall recite it all morning as I chew the ends off my fingernails and watch impatiently out the window.” Bethany turned to leave. “Good hunting, Troy.”
“Same goes for you.” He grinned. “I will spend my morning dreaming of our appointment early this afternoon. I’ll tell the Sheriff I’m following a lead, so he won’t expect me back.”
Troy bent down and kissed Bethany lightly on the cheek. When she didn’t move, he grinned. “Just warming up – for the real thing.” She slapped at him playfully, and left the office.
A Liberating Love (Keepers of the Light Book 3) Page 6
