The Treasure Man

by Pamela Browning

  “I don’t mind having people over, but we have to clean house first,” Chloe said. “At least the parlor and porch.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “Gwynne and I are going to split the cost of hiring someone.”

  “Hire me and Jill. Please?” Tara leaned forward expectantly.

  “Well, I—”

  “Why not?” Ben asked. “You said you appreciated the fact that Jill was saving her money to buy a car, and I bet she’s a hard worker.”

  “When Aaron’s not around,” Tara agreed. “If he’s there, they’re usually stuck in a lip-lock.”

  “Tara!” Chloe said, laughing.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Tara said. “Think it over, Chloe. Jill and I could work three afternoons a week, if you’d like.”

  As Tara disappeared into the group of people waiting to be seated, Ben leaned over and whispered in Chloe’s ear. “I could work every afternoon, too,” he said. “Pleasing you.”

  “You’ve been doing an admirable job,” she admitted.

  “So have you.”

  “Let’s cool it until later,” she murmured as a party of two advanced to the table next to theirs.

  “Will there be a later?” he asked with interest.

  “After Tara’s asleep, I’ll sneak downstairs. Meet me on the porch.”

  “This time, I’ll—”

  “You’ll keep quiet about it,” she said as Tara began to wend her way between the tables.

  “But I’ll go on savoring my anticipation,” Ben retorted with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Hey, Ben,” Tara said as she sat down. “You promised a ride on the beach in your Jeep. How about tonight?”

  Inwardly, Chloe groaned. The sooner Tara went to sleep, the better. A ride on the beach would only delay getting together with Ben.

  With an understanding wink at Chloe, he said, “Tonight would be good. Maybe we’ll even catch one of those mama turtles laying her eggs.”

  This was something that Tara had heard about but hadn’t yet seen. “Wow,” she said, wide-eyed. “I hope so.”

  Chloe kept her eyes downcast. She was pleased that Tara and Ben got along so famously. It was almost as if Tara filled some sort of need in Ben. But what? She still had much to learn about him, even now.

  THE MOON WAS FULL, the beach brightly illuminated, when Ben jumped out of the Jeep and removed the chain barring the entrance to the state park.

  “I’m glad that you’ve got special permission to ride on the trails through the dunes,” Tara said.

  “The ranger said not to disturb the wildlife. She lets Zephyr in, too,” Ben said. He steered along a rutted path littered with dried palmetto fronds, which increased traction and crunched noisily beneath the Jeep’s wheels. Trees slid by, shadowy and dark. Encroaching vines snagged Chloe’s hair, and she loosened it from her barrette.

  Ben had rolled up the canvas on the sides of the Jeep, so that the air rushed past their faces as he picked up speed when they drove into the open. Tara shrieked with delight as dune grass whipped past, slapping against the Jeep’s sides. “Let’s get out,” Ben said, slamming to a stop. And then the three of them held hands and ran down the winding path to the water. When they reached the beach, Tara danced in front of them, the full sleeves of her blouse blowing in the wind. Chloe and Ben followed at a more sedate pace. He took her hand for a moment, squeezing it before letting it go.

  “Look!” Tara shouted. “It must be a turtle!” Her feet kicked up sand as she rushed to see.

  “Of course it’s a turtle,” Zephyr said as she materialized beside them, huffing and puffing with exertion.

  “Zephyr!” exclaimed Chloe. “How long have you been following us?”

  “Only for a ways,” she said. “Now, how about getting that child to be quiet so she doesn’t scare the darling thing.”

  The “darling thing” weighed something like three hundred pounds, had heaved herself out of the surf and was laboring up the incline toward the dunes. The loggerhead carried with her the scent of the sea; her shell was layered with barnacles and flossy strands of bright green moss. She continued up the beach until she reached an area above the seaweed heaped at the high-tide line, and there she started to scoop away the sand with her back flippers.

  Tara watched, enthralled, as the turtle began, with much effort, dropping eggs the size and color of ping-pong balls into the nest she had made.

  “Why is she crying? Does it hurt?” Tara asked in alarm.

  “When she dug her nest, sand flew all around. Tears wash the sand out of turtles’ eyes,” Zephyr replied.

  After an hour or so, when the turtle had finished depositing her eggs, she covered the nest with sand and headed back to the ocean, leaving the characteristic U-shaped track on the beach. Once the turtle disappeared into the froth of surf, Zephyr marked the nest. “I’ve got some clutches that are almost ready for the babies to hatch,” she said to Tara. “Want me to tell you when their time comes? I can always use help herding them toward the ocean so they don’t wind up in the dunes and get eaten by predators.”

  “I feel so sorry for little turtles,” Tara said thoughtfully. “Their parents aren’t there to guide them.”

  “That’s true,” Zephyr said. “Those of us who have parents should be thankful.”

  Tara was uncharacteristically quiet as they left Zephyr to prowl the beach alone. Ben slid his arms around Tara and Chloe, one on each side. “How about ice cream before bedtime?” he asked on the way back to the Jeep.

  “Especially if it’s mint chocolate chip,” Tara said, breaking her silence.

  “Which you bought when you went to the store for us the other day,” Chloe reminded her.

  “Aren’t you glad I can drive, Chloe? Am I a big help?”

  “Yes, sweetie, you are,” Chloe said, meaning it.

  Tara hugged her impulsively. “I want to be,” she said. “But I miss my parents and my sisters. I’m just realizing that.”

  “That’s a valuable lesson, isn’t it?” Chloe said as they clambered into the Jeep.

  “Hmm, I suppose it is. I’m definitely going back to Farish in the fall. I can’t wait to tell my classmates about my wonderful summer.”

  Chloe and Ben, looking over his shoulder at her in the backseat, exchanged triumphant glances at this declaration. When they reached the inn, Tara climbed down from the Jeep first. “I’ll go dish out the ice cream. Don’t be long, you two.”

  “Tara’s done a lot of maturing, hasn’t she?” Ben said as Chloe helped him roll down the Jeep’s side curtains.

  “I’d say so, thank goodness. Let’s walk for a little while, okay?” She finished fastening the curtains and met him on the other side of the vehicle.

  “It’s plain that Tara’s having a good time, but what about your summer?” Ben teased, his hand lifting to curve around the back of Chloe’s neck as they stepped onto the boardwalk.

  “It didn’t get special until recently, but I’d say that as summers go, this one is fantastic so far.” She walked a short way, leaned on the railing and gazed up at Ben.

  “Hey, Chloe and Ben, I’ve got the ice cream ready,” Tara called from the inn.

  Ben sneaked a quick kiss. “We’ll be there in a minute,” Chloe called back.

  “It will be all melted by the time you get here,” Tara warned. They heard the back door slam.

  Ben turned Chloe around and pulled her to him.

  “I’m mad about you, Chloe Timberlake,” he murmured as her ear came within nibbling distance. “Totally.”

  “Maybe it’s just the sex,” she said, though she was sure she’d never felt happier in her life.

  “And maybe not,” he told her.

  Chloe wasn’t ready to confront either her emotions or his. She cast her arms around his neck, reveling in the crush of his rough beard against her cheek. His lips were tender, his arms tight around her. She didn’t want to leave him now, but Tara was calling again.

  No, Chloe thought, it
wasn’t only sex. It was companionship and being able to depend on each other. It was exchanging confidences and becoming best friends.

  Although the sex was pretty good, too.

  AT THE INN after his short walk with Chloe, Ben stood in the foyer, taking in the big parlor, where Tara sat at the piano idly fingering the keys. Chloe was curled up on the sofa, eating ice cream. Is this what it was like to be part of a family? Ben wondered. To be comfortable in the presence of other people who were comfortable with you?

  In his family of origin, his mother had spent a lot of time in her room, weeping. His father arrived home roaring drunk most nights and took out his rage on his cowering children. As soon as he was of age, Ben had left that cramped concrete-block house in Yahola and struck out on his own. When Ben had been gone for six months, his father had been knifed by another man in a bar. Afterward, his mother had moved in with her aunt in Oklahoma and eventually died. His two sisters lived in California, and his brother was in the air force and stationed in Korea. They were no longer close.

  For a while he and Ashley had formed a circle of two. They’d made their own jokes, created a short-cut language and enjoyed each other’s company. Now that Ashley was gone, Ben was on his own. He’d made a mess of his life in the past, but here he was with Chloe and Tara, and what he felt was a solid affection for both of them. And gratitude for allowing him to be part of their family group.

  “Play ‘Polynesian Nocturne,’” Chloe suggested to Tara.

  “The piano is out of tune,” Tara pointed out.

  “If you’ll practice, I’ll have it tuned soon,” Chloe said.

  “My dad likes this one, too,” Tara said. The notes began to ripple from her fingers in cascading crescendos, and Chloe smiled across the room at Ben. He sat down beside her and finished his ice cream. Chloe had already eaten hers and was keeping time to the music by tapping her foot.

  Tara wound up with a flourish before turning to Chloe. “Now can I use your computer to get online, Chloe? I promised Amy that I’d send her some pictures that Greg took of all of us on the beach.” Amy was Tara’s best friend in Farish.

  “Go ahead,” Chloe said, yawning. “I’m sleepy. I’m going to crash soon.”

  Tara disappeared into Chloe’s workroom, where they heard her booting up the laptop.

  Ben reached for Chloe’s hand. She pulled it away.

  “Stop, I’m all sticky from the ice cream.”

  He retained his hold on her and playfully licked the ice cream from her fingers, one by one. She tried to contain her laughter but failed, and he chuckled along with her.

  “What’s going on in there, you two?” Tara called.

  “Nothing,” Chloe said, and she stood and picked up the three bowls that had held the ice cream. “We’ll be in the kitchen, Tara,” she answered.

  Ben followed Chloe and helped her stack the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher.

  “The ride was fun tonight,” Chloe said. He slid out a chair for her at the table.

  “Want to sit and talk awhile?”

  She sat and so did he. Even in the harsh light from the overhead fluorescents, Chloe was beautiful. Her skin was lightly tanned, and though she’d worn her hair caught up in a barrette earlier, it now hung loose around her face. She kept combing it back with the fingers of one hand, a graceful movement more charming than she seemed to realize.

  “I like this,” he said in a rush of happiness, his gesture encompassing the kitchen, the house beyond, the click of the keyboard as Tara used the computer.

  “The inn? Oh, so do—”

  “No,” he said. “I meant being here with you and Tara.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming perplexed.

  He poured out the story of his difficult childhood and all that it had entailed. “When I was a kid, I believed that every father came home and yelled at his kids and that every mother hid in her room, paralyzed with fear,” he said. “Not something like this—people together, enjoying one another.”

  Chloe listened solemnly, studying his face as he talked. “I’ve taken my upbringing for granted,” she said. “It was normal—well, as much as anyone’s. A mother and father who loved each other, my sister, my grandparents. A small town where everyone knew everyone else.”

  “You’re lucky,” he told her.

  “I wanted out of Farish,” she said. She lowered her voice. “The way Tara does now.”

  “It’s good to spread our wings, to find out if what we grew up to believe was normal really is.”

  “Yes, and sometimes we fall flat on our faces,” Chloe said wryly. “Like when I almost flunked out of freshman year at the University of Texas because I was bored with the courses. My parents expected me to be a teacher, and I was an artist at heart.” She shrugged. “My parents and I both learned a valuable lesson. I switched my major, and that’s when I came into my own.”

  “Good for you. You had the courage to try something different from what they expected.”

  “It helped that Mom and Dad were supportive once I made my decision.”

  “Where are your parents now, Chloe?”

  “They both died young. My father had a heart attack during my last year in college, and my mother soon after.”

  Tara stuck her head in the door. “I’m going to bed, Chloe.”

  “I’d better head back to the annex,” Ben said as he pushed his chair away from the table. He felt somehow relieved that he’d revealed part of his history tonight, though there was more to tell. That could wait. Talking about the bad time was anything but easy for him. He never discussed it with anyone, ever.

  “I’ll be right up,” Chloe said.

  Tara went upstairs, and Ben squeezed Chloe’s hand. “I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered.

  He hurried to his place and took off his clothes. The house’s old plumbing suffered its usual wheezes and whomps as Chloe and Tara prepared for bed upstairs. He wondered how long it would take Tara to fall asleep. He wondered when Chloe would be able to sneak into his bed. He contemplated, for a moment, what it would be like to go public with their relationship.

  As soon as he lay down on his bed, he dozed. It was over an hour later when he heard the creak of floorboards in the kitchen, then the annex door opening. Soon afterward, Chloe, smelling of soap and talc, slipped into bed beside him.

  “I didn’t even need a flashlight,” she whispered. “I found the way by heart.”

  “By heart,” he mused as he buried his face in her hair. “What a nice way to put it.”

  She stilled, became quiet. Perhaps he had gone too far if she wasn’t really emotionally involved.

  “Make love to me,” she said urgently as his hands found the places he so longed to touch. He kissed her face, her shoulders, her breasts. As he entered her, she wrapped her arms around him as if she couldn’t get close enough. He felt enveloped by her, lost in her. With their bodies pressed so tightly together, it was like being two people in one skin.

  Chloe took the act of making love and shaped it into something beautiful, just as she did with her jewelry. The act of sex was instinct, and sometimes no more than that. Nothing special, nothing new. Yet with this woman he’d experienced an expansion of all his senses and the hope that this could be more than a shallow affair.

  They fell asleep after midnight, and as the first rays of dawn crept up over the dunes, Chloe left him. Her fragrance lingered on his pillow, and he went back to sleep hugging it to his chest.

  Later, when he woke, he heard Chloe and Tara laughing on the front porch. He fixed himself a bowl of cereal, planning his day’s work. First he’d take the metal detector down the beach and do some treasure hunting close to where the mother turtle had laid her eggs last night. Then he’d start painting the porch railings. Perhaps he’d invite Tara and Chloe to join him at his place for hamburgers for dinner.

  He was walking the beach with the metal detector when he realized that he hadn’t thought about Ashley all day. Guilt assailed him; how could he
go for hours at a time without thinking of his daughter? He pictured her, those blue eyes with such long lashes, her round face, the mouth that almost always smiled. She’d had blond hair. That hair flowing almost to her waist in loose curls was the feature that had set her apart from every other thirteen-year-old he knew.

  By the time he got home an hour or so later, he wasn’t thinking about Ashley anymore. He showered, dressed, then pulled the shoe box out from under his bed, intending to count the coins and various other items he’d gleaned on past metal-detecting expeditions. An Indian head nickel, a corroded belt buckle that might be sterling silver, and six gold coins. He removed the nickel and buckle from the box for cleaning, then picked up the coin he’d discovered on his first day here.

  The cob had uneven edges, but it was beautiful with its stamped design on each side. Women often mounted cobs in bezel frames to wear on chains around their necks, or attached them to charm bracelets. He could combine this coin and the chain he’d found to make a gift for Chloe.

  He turned the coin this way and that in the streamer of light admitted by the bedroom window. Yes, that was what he would do with it. He’d give it to Chloe, who was a treasure in and of herself. Always giving to others, never expecting anything in return. It was about time that someone recognized her worth, and this would be the perfect way to let her know that he held her in high esteem.

  TARA AND JILL REPORTED for work at the end of the week by marching into Chloe’s workshop, addressing her with smart salutes and asking for their orders.

  Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. Tara wore a kerchief over her hair, and Jill was dressed in a tattered pair of shorts and an old T-shirt—a marked difference from her boutique beach ensembles and expensive sandals.

  “The way to clean a room,” Chloe directed as she accompanied the girls into the parlor, “is to start high up. In other words, wipe the cobwebs from the ceilings first, move on to cleaning the chandeliers—and the one in the dining room is an antique Waterford, so handle it carefully. Then woodwork, walls, upholstery, floor, rugs.”

  “Which room should we start in?” asked Jill.