Mr. Billington turned toward Maggie. “You had to push the boat into the water?”
“Yes, sir.” Maggie studied the old man’s troubled expression.
“I wonder why Mr. Harcourt pulled it on shore instead of tying it up at the dock.” Mr. Billington stared toward the ground and shook his head.
Nate’s frown deepened, and he paced a few steps away. “I suppose he thought that would be safer.”
Maggie glanced at Nate. That didn’t make sense. Tying up the boat would have been much easier and perfectly safe, especially since Mr. Harcourt knew her family would be using it shortly after he returned to shore.
“I think that’s all we need.” Nate glanced at Maggie, then looked toward the road with a slight jerk of his head.
Surprise rippled through Maggie. Why was he so eager to leave? She rose and thanked Mr. Billington.
The old man stood and turned to her. “I wish I had more answers for you.” He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know why that boat sank. It doesn’t make sense to me, but then sometimes things happen that we don’t understand.”
“What you’ve said has been helpful.” Maggie reached for his hand. “We appreciate your time.”
Nate nodded to Mr. Billington, then turned and strode out of the garden. Maggie walked behind him, confused by his abrupt end to their visit. They followed the path around the house and out to the car. He opened her door without a word, then cranked the car and started the motor.
Maggie wanted to question him, but she couldn’t do that in front of Violet. She’d have to wait until they reached the beach. Hopefully then she could learn more about what Nate was thinking.
Maggie shook out the lightweight blanket and let the breeze off the ocean help her spread it out on the sand. Nate carried the picnic basket and walked with Grandmother and Violet down the path toward the beach where Maggie waited for them.
She studied Nate’s face as he came closer, and her stomach tensed. He’d barely said a word since they’d left Mr. Billington’s. Was he simply distracted by what they’d learned, or was it something else?
She turned toward the sea, lifting her face to the sun and letting its warm rays soothe her tense shoulders. The water glistened as the waves rolled toward the shore. Gulls dipped and floated on the salty breeze. In the distance she could see the remains of an old castle on the hill overlooking the beach. Surely, in such a lovely spot on a beautiful day like this, she and Nate would be able to reconnect.
Violet swung over on her crutches and moved into Maggie’s line of vision. “Can I go down to the water?”
“The doctor said you can’t get your cast wet.”
“I promise I’ll be careful.” Violet’s pleading tone tugged at Maggie’s heart.
Maggie laid her hand on Violet’s shoulder. “Today you can enjoy the view of the ocean and the sunshine.”
“Oh, please, I just want to feel the waves on my feet.”
“I’m sorry, Violet, but you’ll have to wait until your next visit to get your feet wet.”
Violet sighed and flopped down on the blanket. “At least I can dig in the sand.”
Grandmother lowered herself onto the blanket next to Violet. “Dig all you like, but you must keep the sand out of your cast or you’ll be miserable.” She gave Violet’s knee a tap. “Swing your leg around so it’s in the center of the blanket.”
Violet did as Grandmother asked, then found a stick and started poking it into the sand just off the edge of the blanket.
Grandmother looked up at Nate and Maggie. “Why don’t you two take a walk and test the water? We’ll be fine here.”
Maggie glanced at Nate. He agreed, though he didn’t look especially pleased about the idea. He sat on the far side of the blanket and untied his shoes. Maggie sat down as well, turned away from Nate, removed her shoes, and slipped off her stockings. When she finished, she stood and found Nate waiting for her.
“Ready?” He motioned toward the water.
She nodded and fell into step beside him. When they reached the damp, hard-packed sand, she glanced over her shoulder to be sure they were a safe distance from Grandmother and Violet. It was time to sort through what they’d learned today. “I’m glad we were able to speak to Mr. Billington.”
Nate looked toward the waves but said nothing.
She searched his face, wishing she could understand what he was thinking. “That was quite a surprise to learn your father took the boat out first that morning.”
The tense lines around Nate’s mouth deepened. “Yes, it was.”
“It’s odd that he pulled it up on shore when he could’ve just left it tied to the dock.”
“I don’t see what difference that makes.”
“If someone wanted to tamper with the boat, bringing it on shore would make it easier.”
He lowered his brows and looked her way. “What are you implying?”
Questions spun through her mind. Could Mr. Harcourt be responsible? Was she actually going to accuse Nate’s father of murder? She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I’m just saying your father was the last one to use the boat before we took it out, and he pulled it up on shore.”
Nate stopped and faced her. “That doesn’t make him guilty.”
She stared at him, stung by his sharp tone. “So you don’t believe he could have tampered with the boat?”
“No, I don’t. He respected your father and considered him a good friend. He would never purposely plot to harm him or your family.”
“But you heard what Mr. Hornshaw and Mr. Billington said. The boat was practically new. There was nothing wrong with it until after your father used it that morning.”
“That doesn’t mean he damaged it.”
Maggie lifted her chin. “That doesn’t clear him of suspicion either.”
Nate stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, and his frown deepened.
Maggie’s head throbbed, and sick dread built in her stomach. Of course it would be hard for Nate to believe his father could be guilty of tampering with the boat, but the possibility was growing stronger in her mind by the minute.
Nate shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he put your whole family at risk?”
“I can think of one explanation.” Her voice grew more insistent. “If your stepmother followed through on her threat and accused my father of making advances toward her, your father could’ve been angry enough to wish my father harm.”
“No! My father would never do that. Even if Helen lied to him, he would’ve confronted your father and given him a chance to explain.”
“That’s what you would do, but we’re not talking about you. We’re talking about William Harcourt.”
Nate glared toward the water, his eyes as turbulent as the waves washing toward them.
Maggie pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions. “I know you respected your father and you want to believe the best about him, but he was the last one to use the boat, and he had a motive and the opportunity to damage it.”
A muscle rippled in his jaw, and he shifted his gaze back to Maggie. “There is another possibility.”
Maggie frowned. “What?”
“You said you and your father pushed the boat into the lake. Perhaps you damaged the hull and that’s why it sank.”
Maggie pulled in a sharp breath. “You’re blaming me?”
“No, I’m just saying there could be another explanation.”
Dizziness washed over Maggie. That couldn’t be true! It was impossible. She lifted her chin and met his steely gaze. “Of course you’d like to shift the blame to me and absolve your father.”
“Maggie, that’s not true. I want to know what actually happened as much as you do, but I won’t blame my father until we’re one hundred percent certain he was the one responsible.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and turned away, her eyes stinging.
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Maggie, please talk to me.”
She bli
nked away her tears, then slowly turned to face him.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you and your family—more sorry than you’ll ever know. And if I were in your position, I would fight just as hard as you are to find out who was at fault, but I think it’s time you accept that what happened that day might have been an accident. A terrible, tragic accident.”
She stared at him, her breath frozen in her lungs. How could he say that? She had opened her heart to him, trusted him, and believed he would help her. “After everything I’ve told you and all we’ve learned, you’re going to dismiss it because you’re more loyal to your family than you are to the truth?”
Nate leaned toward her, his posture rigid and his tone sharp. “I know my father. He never would’ve purposely planned to drown your family. It’s just not possible.” He turned away and strode down the beach, leaving Maggie behind.
Maggie’s heart pounded in her chest, and she swallowed hard. She could go after him, but she doubted he would listen to her. And she couldn’t stand hearing him defend his father one more time.
How could he betray her like this?
All the pain from the past rose like a huge wave, crashing over her and drowning out her hope. He’d turned his back on her again, just as he had after her parents and sister had died. She’d longed for his help and support, but he’d gone off and joined the Navy and left her to face her heartbreak alone. And he was abandoning her again, but this time the pain cut so much deeper. This time she’d given him her heart and he’d chosen to defend his family instead.
The sun had just dipped behind the trees on the hillside above the house when Nate dropped off Mrs. Hayes, Violet, and Maggie at Morningside’s front door. He drove the motorcar around to the far side of the stable and retrieved the picnic basket from the backseat.
With a weary sigh, he started back toward the house, the distressing events of the last few hours replaying through his mind. How could a day that started out with great expectations turn into such a disaster?
What a fool he’d been to believe he could win Maggie’s heart by helping her search for answers about the boating accident. He should’ve known the painful issues from the past would rise again and fortify the wall between them.
No matter what Mr. Billington said or how firmly Maggie argued the point, he could not believe his father would plan to harm Daniel Lounsbury or purposely damage the boat, especially not when he knew Daniel’s family would be with him that day.
His father was not a perfect man, not by any means. But he was calm and even-tempered, not given to passion or revenge. It would’ve been totally out of character for his father to plot to murder Daniel Lounsbury, no matter what he believed the man had done.
Nate had tried to make Maggie see she was heading down the wrong path toward a faulty conclusion that would end up hurting them all. But she wouldn’t listen. She had to blame someone for her heartbreak and losses, and she had decided it would be his father.
He stifled a groan and pushed open the front door. Maybe he could appeal to her one more time, but how would he convince her she was grasping for answers that were not going to be found?
He walked through the entrance hall, crossing the black-and-white tiled floor, then stepped into the great hall. The glow of the sunset through the tall windows cast a rosy light around the room. Maggie stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding an open letter in her hands. She glanced at him, then pressed her lips together and looked away.
Nate crossed toward her but stopped a few feet from where she stood.
Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted the letter. “Reverend Samuelson has found a place for us to stay in the village.”
Nate’s chest constricted. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I think it’s best. Mrs. Birdwell is willing to take us in until the shop is rebuilt.” Her hand fell to her side, and she looked at him with a plea in her eyes.
He steeled himself. If she was determined, then he wouldn’t stop her. “When will you go?”
She looked down at the letter again. “He says she’ll be ready for us tomorrow.”
He tried to draw in a deep breath, but his chest felt so tight it was almost impossible. He knew Maggie was strong-willed and even stubborn at times, but he didn’t think she’d actually leave, not when things were so unsettled between them.
Then another thought struck, and he riveted his gaze on her face. “Are you planning to go to the police?”
Her eyes flickered and she straightened. “I think it’s time I tell them what I know.”
Heat rushed up his neck and flooded his face. How could she do it? Didn’t their friendship mean anything to her? What about all he’d done to help her and her family? Didn’t she owe him some gratitude, some loyalty?
A rustling sound in the gallery drew his attention. He looked up and scanned the upper floor, but he didn’t see anyone there. The curtain by the open window shifted in the breeze, and he dismissed the sound.
It was time to face the inevitable. Maggie would accuse his father of murder and taint his family’s name forever…and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
Again he fixed his gaze on Maggie. “If you must, I have one request, and I hope you’ll honor it.”
“That depends on what it is.” The suspicion in her eyes hit him like a blow to the jaw. After all he’d done, she still didn’t trust him.
“Wait until this business with the strike is settled. If the police come to question Helen, it will stir up a hornet’s nest of trouble and I want to be here to deal with it.” He gentled his voice and looked her in the eyes. “It would be best for Clara’s sake.”
Maggie’s brow creased, and she scanned his face as though she was trying to measure the truth behind his words. Finally, she said, “All right. I’ll wait until the strike is settled.”
Jackson walked into the great hall. “May I take that basket down to the kitchen for you, sir?”
Nate passed him the picnic basket. “Thank you, Jackson.”
Maggie turned and started up the stairs without another word.
He watched her climb the steps, pass through the gallery, and enter the west hall. The energy seemed to drain out of him, and he grasped the railing at the bottom of the stairs.
He’d lost her, and it seemed there was nothing he could say or do to make her change her mind. She would walk out of his life tomorrow, determined to falsely accuse his father of murder, and she wouldn’t even look back.
Maggie’s stomach churned as she walked into the dining room the next morning with Grandmother and Violet, but a quick glance around the room told her Nate was not there.
Jackson stepped forward. “Good morning, madam, Miss Margaret, Miss Violet. Breakfast is ready.” He motioned toward the sideboard.
Grandmother nodded. “Thank you, Jackson.”
Maggie glanced over her shoulder toward the great hall. “Shouldn’t we wait for Mr. Harcourt?”
“He has already eaten, miss.”
Violet frowned. “Nate ate breakfast without us?”
Jackson’s mouth lifted at one corner, and he shifted his gaze to Maggie. “Mr. Harcourt had a meeting in the village with Reverend Samuelson. But he left instructions that a carriage was to be ready for your use this morning.”
Maggie crossed to the sideboard to prepare a plate for herself and Violet, but she couldn’t shake her confusing thoughts. Violet plopped down in her chair while Grandmother followed Maggie to the sideboard and served herself.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. Even Violet had little to say.
Maggie took a sip of tea and tried to wash down a bite of dry toast, but it tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She lifted her hand and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease her tired, aching muscles. It was no wonder she felt exhausted this morning. She’d spent half the night debating her decision and trying to calm her racing thoughts.
There seemed to be only two choices. She could go to the police, give them the information she had collecte
d, and expose Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt’s misdeeds. Or she could accept Nate’s conclusion that her parents and sister had died as a result of a terrible accident, one she might have caused.
A shudder passed through her, and she pushed that second possibility away. She did not believe that was the case, not after what she’d read in her father’s diary and heard Helen and Roland say to each other.
But what if she was wrong? What if she was grasping for an explanation when there was none?
She glanced at Nate’s empty chair, and her spirits sank lower. She had hoped when she saw him this morning he would say he had changed his mind and would keep his promise to stand with her and see that justice was done. But he hadn’t even waited long enough to say good-bye.
The events of yesterday rolled through her mind for the hundredth time, ending with that terrible look of betrayal on Nate’s face when she’d told him she was leaving Morningside and going to the police. Why did she even question his decision to leave this morning without speaking to her? She was going to accuse his father of murder and expose his stepmother to public humiliation. What did she expect?
With a tired sigh, she laid her fork and knife on her plate and looked across the table at Grandmother. “What time shall we ask for the carriage?”
“It won’t take long to pack. I’m sure we’ll be ready by ten o’clock.”
Violet slumped in her chair. “I don’t want to go.”
Maggie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She did not have the energy to deal with Violet’s dramatics this morning.
“We know, dear,” Grandmother said. “But we must keep an eye on the builders while they’re working on the shop, and we can’t do that from Morningside.”
Violet scrunched her lips together. “But I like it here.”
Grandmother sighed. “Morningside is lovely, but it’s time to go back to the village.” She leaned forward, smiling at Violet. “And here’s a thought to cheer you. Your cast comes off soon. Then you’ll be able to play outdoors and see all your friends.”
Shine Like the Dawn Page 27
