Distant Dreams

by Jenny Lykins

  Molly and Charles - indeed, everyone who had paid their respects - had told him how the news of his death had devastated her.

  Had she taken her own life?

  Even now he had men watching the shoreline for her body, and had a litany in his head praying they would find nothing.

  He wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it and live with himself.

  Of course, Molly chose to believe another story. He’d read the letters Shaelyn had written to everyone. All of them saying goodbye. Only Molly’s had more details. Shaelyn had told her she was returning to her own time. The ring had suddenly decided to slip from her finger, and she would return to her time and her family rather than allow William to try and win custody of their child and make its life as miserable as he had made everyone else’s.

  Molly was convinced this was fact. Alec was convinced it was a desperate, far-fetched attempt to confuse any search his father might have made for her.

  The library door burst open and bounced off the wall. He expected to see his father in the doorway, and he prepared to physically remove him, but Molly marched into the room, as ladylike as a raging bull. She slammed a leather-bound journal down in front of him.

  “Read it.”

  He looked at the small book, then back to his sister.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Shaelyn’s journal. I started reading it to see if she’d left a clue as to where she might have gone. This proves what I have insisted all along.”

  “Molly - ”

  “Read it!”

  Rather than argue with her, he opened to the first page and read.

  The journal gave Shaelyn’s innermost thoughts. He watched her fall in love with him, and he agonized over how he’d hurt her at times. His heart ached when he realized how early she’d known she loved him, and he mourned the time he’d lost with her while refusing to acknowledge his own feelings. She devoted pages and pages on how she wished he would believe she was from the future. How she wanted to tell him about cars and airplanes, men walking on the moon, microwaves, genetic engineering, cloning, computers, telephones, email. The list grew as he turned the pages. When he finally read the last entry, he closed the book.

  “Well?” she demanded, all signs of his playful little sister gone.

  He looked up at Molly and stared at her, his stomach twisted in a sick knot.

  “This proves nothing.”

  She yanked up the journal and waved it under his nose.

  “How can you say that? Why would she write these things when she thought no one would ever read them?”

  “What did she write, Molly? That she loved me? That she was blissfully happy? I already knew that. But what are those other things she wrote about? Those things from the future she wanted to share with me? The only ‘thing’ she mentioned that I could understand was men walking on the moon. For God’s sake, Molly, think about it. The only way to interpret that is that she is claiming that people have traveled to the moon and walked upon its surface! Why in the world would she make such a preposterous claim?”

  “Why indeed?” Molly yelled at him. “Unless it were true. Any person in their right mind would never make a claim such as that unless they could somehow prove it!”

  His jaw popped when he clenched his teeth.

  “And where is her proof?”

  He thought for a moment she might slap him. She literally quivered with rage.

  “All right, answer me this.” She slapped both hands onto the desk and leaned so close to him he could see his reflection in her eyes. “How is it that Shaelyn told me, in August, that the steam engine, the Tom Thumb, would race a horse to Baltimore, but the engine wouldn’t finish the race because of a mechanical problem? I am sure you read about it in the newspapers, but Shaelyn told me what would happen weeks before the race. And how did she know the town is going to bury a time capsule, as she calls it? They just announced their decision to do that last week.”

  Alec shook his head, amazed at his sister’s gullibility.

  “That would not be hard to guess. Those engines have never been reliable. Or perhaps Shaelyn is gifted with the Sight. I can believe she could foretell the future before I can believe she traveled from there.”

  Molly glared at him through eyes shining with tears, a resentment in her gaze he’d never seen before. She shoved away from the desk and marched to the door, then turned and pierced him with a look of disgusted pity.

  “Shaelyn would never take your baby’s life. And did it ever occur to you that you’ve never heard of those things in her journal because they haven’t been invented? Think with your heart, Alec, not your mind.”

  She closed the door before Alec could tell her that Shaelyn had taken his heart with her when she left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Shaelyn found little comfort in the fact that Brianne and her parents believed her now. They’d done so with a lingering amount of skepticism, until her father had left on an unheard of “business trip” and returned with a new attitude toward her story. She had no doubt he’d followed her footsteps to the Port Helm courthouse and library. She couldn’t blame them, though.

  They worried about her depression. Her mother still wanted her to see a counselor, to help her through her grief.

  Shaelyn refused. She didn’t want to accept her loss. She wanted it to spur her on to continue looking for her ring, though in the back of her mind she knew her quest was nearly hopeless. But if she gave up that hope, she would be giving up her hope for any happiness in life as well.

  She’d made no secret of the fact that if she ever found the ring, no matter how long it took her, she would put it on and return to Alec. Her parents had nodded with tears in their eyes. They’d looked at each other with love and that unspoken language they’d always used, then told her that if she ever found the ring, she should waste no time in goodbyes. “Don’t take a chance on having it stolen or lost, princess,” her dad had said. “You put it on and go to Alec.”

  With a lump in her throat she could barely swallow past, she’d agreed. But she’d also promised to try and find a way to come back and see them from time to time.

  She had come home in early September with the proof of her and Alec’s marriage, then spent the next four months grieving and angry at the world. Thanksgiving had been hard, but Christmas had been unbearable. She would have given ten years off her life to be spending the holidays curled in front of a fire with Alec, his head in her lap as he spoke nonsense to their baby.

  She swallowed hard and smoothed her hand over the growing mound so precious to her. She would soon have to abandon her over-sized clothes and move into bonafide maternity wear.

  She wheeled the rental car into the parking lot of Port Helm’s quaint little inn. She’d very nearly chosen to stay in Baton Rouge for New Year’s Eve, but the heart of the story that had taken her to Alec to begin with was the turning of the millennium in small town America. She could hardly write the final installment of the article without being there for the event.

  After checking in, she slogged back through the snow to her car and headed north on Route 1. She had decided on the plane ride to Portland that she would try and find Windward Cottage and, in one last ditch effort, see if she could trace the ring from there.

  It took her longer than she’d anticipated, but she found the house at the end of a road that wound toward the ocean through acres of dense trees.

  The home loomed above the water, majestic as ever, its diamond-paned windows still glittering in the sun, the view as magnificent as the last time she’d seen it, one hundred and sixty-nine years ago. A sign swung from hooks in the front yard.

  Windward Cottage Bed & Breakfast

  Daniel and Bethany Hawthorne, proprietors

  A wave of dizziness rocked Shaelyn to the core. Daniel Hawthorne. Was he a descendent of Charles? Or had Alec remarried? She could not even let herself think about that.

  She pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and sat
there, staring at the home so dear to her heart.

  She had to see it. She had to walk once more through the rooms that had been filled with hers and Alec’s love.

  A pretty, bright-eyed girl with flaming red hair answered her knock and invited her in.

  “Would you like a room?” she asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “You’d pretty much have your pick. We don’t get a lot of traffic this time of year.”

  Shaelyn forced a smile and looked around, swallowing back tears at all that looked familiar, and all that had been changed.

  “I have a room at the inn in Port Helm, but when I stumbled across this place, I thought I might stay here instead.” She looked back at the girl with eyes the color of violets, subconsciously thinking those had to be contacts. “It’s funny. I’ve spent summers here for years and never knew this place existed.”

  “Oh, we’ve only been in business a year, since my husband’s father died. I’m Bethany Hawthorne, by the way.”

  Shaelyn took the girl’s hand and wondered if she was looking at a very distant niece.

  “Shaelyn Sumner. Do you mind if I look around?”

  Bethany waved her toward the parlor. “Feel free. You have the run of the house. I have some bread baking that’s about ready to come out of the oven, but I’ll find you when I’m through and answer any questions.”

  Shaelyn walked from room to room, fighting back tears and watching vignettes of her and Alec playing in her mind. By the time Bethany found her, it was all Shaelyn could do to keep the tears at bay.

  “How do you like our humble home?” Bethany bustled into the bedroom Molly had used.

  Shae smiled but bit hard on the inside of her cheek.

  “I can tell it’s had lots of happy memories.”

  “Oh, yes. Daniel grew up here. He loves the place, and so do I.”

  Shaelyn narrowed her eyes and gave her a curious look.

  “Hawthorne. I researched the Hawthorne family in the area once. Did your husband descend from Alec or Charles Hawthorne?”

  Bethany visibly searched her mind, then shook her head.

  “I couldn’t really say. Probably. He could tell you, but he’s in town, helping prepare for the festivities tonight. They really plan to do this New Year’s Eve up right.”

  Shaelyn nodded, not wanting to even think of any more holidays without Alec.

  “Do you have any other rentals on the property?”

  Bethany looked at her with surprise.

  “As a matter fact, there’s a little cottage about an eighth of a mile up the shore. It used to be the guest house. It’s really popular with couples. Has a personality all its own. It just seems to breathe with a sense of…I don’t know… love. You probably think I’m crazy. But Daniel and I loved it so much we spent our wedding night there.”

  Shaelyn turned the sob that escaped her throat into a delicate cough.

  “Could I possibly see it?”

  Bethany studied her, then her eyes softened.

  “Sure. I’ll get the key and you can give yourself the tour. I can’t leave the ovens for long.”

  Shaelyn felt the ghosts the moment she walked through the front door of Harbor Mist. Little had changed except the weathered aging of the house. The furniture, though of course different, was the same style. The colors were nearly the same. The paint scheme the same. The house had been updated with plumbing and a furnace, but the essence of the cottage remained wonderfully old.

  She took the stairs to the bedroom, thinking of how recently she’d climbed them last, yet it had been seventeen decades ago.

  The ghosts hit her full force at the top of the stairs. Alec’s smiling face appeared in her mind as clearly as if he stood before her. She could almost feel his arms around her, his lips on hers. The modern bed that stood where their wedding bed had stood beckoned her, and she could not resist going to it, smoothing her hands across the bedspread.

  The pain raged, a living, scorching ball that burned in the depths of her soul.

  She’d thought coming back would comfort her, but it had only poured salt on the raw, angry wounds that threatened never to heal.

  She rushed from the cottage, shoving away the ghosts that only caused more pain. By the time she reached the terrace at Windward, the tears had nearly frozen on her cheeks. She paced until she calmed her thudding heart and her eyes watered only from the biting cold.

  The warmth of the kitchen enveloped her like Alec’s strong, warm arms. She sucked in a fortifying breath of air scented with fresh baked bread, then handed the key to Bethany.

  “Your home is wonderful,” Shaelyn told her, meaning every word. But then she hedged, not wanting to hurt the woman’s feelings, but knowing she could never bear spending a night in either house. “I’ll check with the inn and see if they’ll let me out of the rest of my reservation tomorrow. Can I call you then and let you know?”

  “Sure. That’s no problem. As I said, we don’t usually have to hang out our No Vacancy sign this time of year.”

  Shaelyn nodded and started out the back door, but then she stopped.

  “By the way, I’m doing a story on interesting pieces of jewelry…I’m a journalist, if you haven’t guessed.” Bethany smiled. “Anyway, the article is about pieces of jewelry with a legend behind them. A curse, a spell, a good luck charm. I heard about a ring just the other day connected with the Hawthorne name. Would you know anything about it?”

  Bethany flopped onto a stool next to the counter.

  “I didn’t know anybody even remembered that old thing. An emerald and diamond ring, right?”

  Shaelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and pumped so hard she thought she would faint. Surely Bethany could hear it thundering in her chest.

  “I believe so. Can you tell me more about it? Do you know what became of it?”

  “There are several pieces in that set of jewelry. A bracelet, a necklace, earrings, a brooch. My mother-in-law has several of the pieces, but I’m not sure if she has the ring. Delores is a little...possessive about the jewelry. Refuses to talk about it. But if anyone has it, I’d guess it’s with her other pieces in her safety deposit box at the Bank of Port Helm. If not, she might know where it is.”

  Delores Hawthorne. Where had Shaelyn heard that name? She racked her brain, and suddenly she could hear Pete telling her he’d talked to Delores Hawthorne, the town’s historian.

  Shaelyn nearly wept with relief. Had she found it?

  “Do you suppose your mother-in-law would allow me to interview her about the ring? Perhaps take some pictures of her with it?”

  If she could only get her hands on the ring, she would slip it on and then arrange for it to be handed down through the same family. It should reappear the moment Shaelyn went back to Alec.

  Bethany tilted her head with skepticism.

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. She’s a little freaky about the silly thing. She refuses to talk about it. Daniel’s dad always told these wild stories of strange things happening to the people who wore the jewelry, and when he died and we had to get into the deposit box, she came with us, snatched the jewelry case from inside the minute we opened it, and held the thing until we locked the box back in the vault. When I asked her about it there at the bank, she opened the case only long enough for me to get a glimpse at a pile of jewelry, then snapped it shut and refused to say anything about it.” Bethany shook her head with wonder. “Delores isn’t usually that…weird.”

  Shaelyn refused to be defeated. Refused to let her heart drop even a fraction of an inch.

  “Would you ask her, or could I? I’m pretty persuasive, and I would love to include the piece in my article.”

  Bethany shrugged. “She’s in town with Dan. She’s the Master of Ceremony of the events, but I’ll ask her when I see her tonight. Will you be there?”

  Shaelyn nodded and smiled her first genuine smile since October, 1830.

  “I’m doing a story on it.”

  “Great. Maybe I’ll have an answer for you, or
else you can try sweet-talking Mother Hawthorne herself.”

  When Shaelyn left the house, she felt as if she could float back to Port Helm.

  *******

  Revelers gathered in the square, bundled in layers of scarves, sweaters, boots, and L.L. Bean attire from the nearby outlet.

  Shaelyn searched the faces for Bethany, but she’d never dreamed such a mob would attend the festivities. The streets swarmed with people, and finding one muffled face would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

  Speeches were made. Different ceremonies performed. Children ran around with sparklers burning, giddy with excitement.

  Shaelyn was just as giddy as the children.

  Where the heck was Bethany? Maybe she could have her paged.

  An orchestra played patriotic music while the mayor announced the unearthing of the time capsule.

  “Bethany!” Shaelyn caught a glimpse of fiery curls springing from beneath a ski cap. The girl turned, searched the crowd, then waved and elbowed her way toward Shaelyn.

  “I’ve looked for you everywhere! I talked to my mother-in-law.”

  A drumroll grew near the stage.

  “What did she say?” Shae’s heart hovered at the top of her throat.

  “She…money…take it out…” The drumroll drowned out Bethany’s words.

  “What?” Shaelyn yelled, pointing to the orchestra.

  “She said there’s not enough money in the world to convince her to take it out of the vault!” Bethany yelled back. “I swear, Delores really believes those old family tales.”

  Her last words echoed when the drumroll suddenly stopped, and her words echoed in Shaelyn’s mind as well. Did the woman have some sort of firsthand knowledge of the ring? Shaelyn had to convince her to let her see it, even if she offered to go to the vault with her.

  “Where is she? I’ll ask her myself.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, what you’ve all been waiting for. Mayor Dempsey will now open the time capsule!”

  Shaelyn cursed the damned announcer and the PA system for drowning out her question. She touched Bethany’s arm and drew her attention away from the stage.