by Leigh Duncan
For several long seconds, Jason stared at the horizon while she held her breath, certain that this would be the end of things between them before they even got started.
“Look.” Jason’s eyes met hers. “You’re smart. You’re capable. I refuse to believe you can’t make things work at Weddings Today. You’ll just have to dig in, find what you’re looking for. You’ll see. You have two days to give your editor what she wants. Buckle down and do the very best you can.” Jason nodded like he understood.
How could he, when she hadn’t told him the rest of it? Doing her best would mean destroying his livelihood. Their love couldn’t survive that. He deserved to know everything. No matter what it cost. “There’s more. I—”
His phone chimed.
Relief swelled in her chest. Jason was right. She wouldn’t have to tell him the rest after all. She’d find a way to resolve things on her own so he never had to know how close she’d come to destroying the town he loved. When Jason didn’t move a muscle but continued to look at her expectantly, she asked, “Don’t you have to get that?”
He grimaced. “I should’ve shut off the ringer. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
Less than thirty seconds later, a different, more insistent alarm bell rose over the sound of the wind and the surf.
“Guess it was important, after all.” He withdrew the phone from his back pocket and glanced at the screen. “Duty calls.” He sighed heavily. “Walk back with me?”
“You go on ahead. You probably have things that need your attention.” She lifted her travel mug. “I’ll stay here and finish my coffee.” She had problems of her own to resolve. Chief among them, how she was going to save both her job and Jason’s love when having one would destroy the other.
Tara uncapped a bottle of water and took a drink. Stretching, she worked the kinks out of shoulder muscles that had stiffened during the hours while she’d sat, hunched over the desk in her room, paging through Mary Heart’s diaries. With lunch only an hour away, she hoped to finish reading by the time she went downstairs. She re-capped the bottle and set it aside, ready to get back to work.
Fifteen minutes later, a phrase leaped off the page. Tara rubbed her eyes. The words written in Mary’s elegant script remained the same. She started over at the beginning of the entry from October 17th, 1897. Unable to believe what she was seeing, she traced the lines with her finger. It took three tries before she convinced herself she’d read it right the first time.
The Mary S dropped anchor in Heart’s Cove this evening. Praise be to God for delivering my husband’s ship and crew home once more.
Her pulse kicked up a notch. With a reminder that now wasn’t the time to jump to conclusions, Tara checked the date she’d written after reading Captain Thaddeus’s account of the storm he’d encountered on his way from New York to Heart’s Landing. Same year. Same month. Same week. Her heart skipped a beat.
Her movements slow and methodical, she pulled up the hurricane tracking information she’d downloaded onto her laptop. None of the massive, swirling storms that had originated off the coast of Africa had been given names until the 1950s. Before then, they’d simply been referred to by number, and in 1897, the fifth storm of the season had been the only one to rage along the entire East Coast. On October 9th, 188 crewmen had died when their ship had been swamped by high winds and sank off the coast of Cuba. From there, the hurricane had churned northward in the Atlantic. Ten days after it had struck Cuba, the storm had roared ashore at Cape Hatteras, then bounced back out to sea. It made landfall only once more, striking Rhode Island’s Block Island with gale-force winds on the twentieth. After that, it had dissipated entirely.
She pushed away from the desk, her thoughts in as much turmoil as winds in a hurricane. She’d traced the paths of every major storm to make landfall in the U.S. during the years Captain Thaddeus had plied the seas. Storm Number Five was the only one that fit all the criteria. The legend of Captain Thaddeus had to have been built around it.
But there was a problem—a huge, glaring problem. According to Mary’s diary, the Mary S had reached port on October 17th, two full days before Number Five had made landfall in North Carolina. With the hurricane still that far south, Thaddeus couldn’t have sailed through it on his final leg of an ocean voyage that had taken him from London to New York, and then home to Heart’s Landing. He’d been too far north to encounter even one of the storm’s feeder bands.
One by one, like pieces of a puzzle, the facts clicked into place. For over a hundred years, people had assumed that the storm Captain Thaddeus had encountered had been a hurricane. They’d described how he’d steered the ship straight up the front of towering waves, only to plunge into troughs so deep they hid the ship’s mast from sight. Old seafarers had talked about how the captain had worried about the loss of cargo and lives if the ship swamped. How he’d braved winds that would’ve knocked lesser men to their knees in order to stand at the helm of the Mary S.
But he hadn’t done any of that. He couldn’t have. Number Five had been nearly seven hundred miles farther south when the crew of the Mary S had run into rough weather. Thaddeus and his crew hadn’t encountered anything more than your garden-variety storm. And not even a bad one, at that.
Her mouth went dry. This was the proof she needed to save her job, the evidence Regina had asked her to find.
What now?
She twisted a strand of hair. In college, her professors had harped on the need for journalistic integrity. They’d taught that a good reporter revealed the truth, no matter the consequences. Earlier today, when she’d told Jason how much she was afraid of failing, he’d encouraged her to pursue her dreams. He’d told her to dig deeper, leave no stone unturned, which was exactly what she’d done.
All her hard work had paid off. Success was finally within reach.
She wouldn’t kid herself. Her success carried a hefty price tag. Revealing what she’d discovered would hurt the people in Heart’s Landing, people she’d come to think of as friends. To say nothing of what it’d do to Jason. He’d be devastated when he learned that the legend surrounding his famous relative was a lie. He’d blame her for exposing the truth.
But she had to report what she’d found. She owed it to Regina and Weddings Today—to say nothing of how much she owed herself—to tell the real story. Unveiling what she’d discovered was her chance to prove, once and for all, that she’d become the journalist she’d always dreamed of being.
Telling herself she had no choice didn’t stop her fingers from shaking though. It didn’t keep her stomach from turning mutinous as she assembled the data she’d gathered. Once she’d proofed everything—twice—she saved the file to her laptop. She hefted her computer. As much as she didn’t want to risk running into Jason or Evelyn, she’d have to go downstairs to send in her report. A quick check of her cell phone told her it was nearly noon. She was in luck. The hubbub of arriving brides and departing wedding parties made the dining room a busy place over the lunch hour. With all the comings and goings, no one would give a second thought to a lone woman sitting in a corner staring at her computer screen.
Though she grew sicker to her stomach with every step, Tara picked her way down the stairs. She made it as far as the dining room without spotting Jason and drew in a relieved breath. A move that backfired when she inhaled the rich smells of quiche, fresh fruit, and coffee. She stashed her laptop on her favorite corner table. Hoping to calm her stomach, she loaded a small plate with items from the buffet and grabbed a cup of coffee. Back at her table, she nibbled on a plain bagel while she waited for her computer to boot up. Snatches of the conversation at the table next door drifted her way while she brought up her email program.
“I, uh… Saundra, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”
Tara stole a quick glance at the thin young man who’d just rearranged his silverware for the third time.
“There’s no other Mrs. Kevin Dobson, is there?” Sitting opposite her nervous groom, Saundra casually straightened the diamond solitaire on her ring finger.
“No. Not ever.” His expression earnest, Saundra’s fiancé grasped her hand. “You’re the only one for me.”
“You’re the only one for me, too, Kevin.” Saundra leaned in for a quick kiss. “Nothing else matters.”
“Well, there is this one thing.”
Uh-oh. Tara watched out of the corner of her eye as Kevin pulled a flat jewelry box from his back pocket. He slid the thin case across the table to his bride.
“A present?” Saundra’s voice filled with breathless expectation. “I thought we decided not to exchange gifts.”
At the young man’s hurried movements, the frequent clenching and unclenching of his fingers, Tara hoped the bride hadn’t set her expectations too high.
“It’s not exactly a gift,” Kevin said, confirming her suspicions. “It’s the Dobson Star. Dad’s family brought it over with them from the old country. Every bride in our family has worn it on their wedding day.” His voice faded. “It’s tradition.”
The bride gave the package a skeptical glance. “Honey, we’ve been planning to get married for over a year. Why am I just hearing about this now?” Saundra smiled through pouted lips.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” Kevin gulped. “I forgot all about the Star. It honestly never crossed my mind until Dad handed it to me after the rehearsal dinner last night.”
Saundra tapped the unopened package. Her smile widened. “I’d be honored to wear it, Kevin.”
Across the table, Kevin grabbed a water glass and slowly rotated it. “Wait till you see it. It’s a bit, um, overwhelming.”
Tara tried not to stare as Saundra carefully untied the ribbon, but her curiosity got the best of her. She crossed her fingers when the box opened with a squeak of tiny hinges.
“It’s, um, it’s…” Tiny furrows wrinkled the bride’s brow. “Well, let’s see what we have here.” Saundra plucked the jewel out of its case and held it up to the light.
Tara sucked in a breath of air. A good three inches across and studded with chips of colored glass, the hammered-silver pin reminded her of a starfish. A misshapen starfish that was hardly beautiful.
At the next table, the bride swallowed. “It’s not exactly the Hope Diamond, is it?”
The groom’s face fell. “It’s too much to ask, isn’t it?” His shoulders slumped. He stared down at tablecloth. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”
“Nonsense.” The bride returned the pin to its case with all the tender care she might give the crown jewels. “I know you, Kevin. You wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important to you and your family.”
Wonder filled the eyes Kevin raised to Saundra. “They’ll all expect to see it.”
“That settles it. I’d be honored to wear the Dobson Star on our wedding day.”
When the firm lines around Saundra’s mouth softened, Tara ducked behind her computer screen to hide her surprise. Dreadful didn’t begin to describe Kevin’s family heirloom. That Saundra had agreed to wear the piece boggled her mind.
“You will?” As surprised as Tara, Kevin stared across the table at his bride.
“Of course, honey. Just tell me, are there any rules about how it’s displayed?”
Tara stole a quick peek while Saundra calmly sipped from a juice glass.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Is it worn on a belt? Or at the shoulder?”
“Gosh.” Kevin brushed a stray crumb from the table. “I don’t think it matters as long as you have it on you.”
“Good to know.” Saundra’s smile deepened. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” The groom heaved a relieved sigh. “I’ll go tell Dad. He’ll be happy to hear the news.”
“Don’t forget. We promised the caterer we’d drop off her final check this afternoon. Meet you there in an hour?” Gold glinted from an expensive watch when Saundra checked the time.
After agreeing, the groom hurried off. Seconds later, Tara spied his lanky form striding down the sidewalk.
At the next table, Saundra flipped the jewelry case over and over in her hands. At last she lifted the lid and peered inside. “Nope.” The lid closed with a snap. “It’s not the Hope Diamond.” She lifted one shoulder and let it drop.
From her spot by the window, Tara leaned forward. “I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t help but overhear. You’re really going to wear the Star?” At Saundra’s nod, her respect for the bride grew. “Do you have any idea how?”
Saundra gave her head a sad shake. “Not a clue.”
In response to several frantic letters to the editor, the staff at Weddings Today had come up with creative ways to display family heirlooms. One or two of those might work in this case. “What kind of flowers are you carrying?”
“Red roses with white anemones. We’re holding the ceremony on the veranda.”
Tara sighed audibly. Of all the spots on the grounds, that was where she’d choose to get married. “What if you had the florist either nestle the Star in with the flowers or pin it to the wrapping around the stems?”
But Saundra was shaking her head. “Kevin asked me to wear the pin. I don’t want to disappoint him.” She tapped the box with the tip of a well-manicured finger. “My dress is a trumpet silhouette. It’s strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. If I’d known about this six months ago…”
“I don’t suppose you could pin it where the skirt flares out?”
“I don’t think so. Want to see a picture?” Saundra whipped out her phone and quickly found the one she wanted. “Here.”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Tara said, looking at the image of Saundra wearing a dress that had been designed with her long, lean figure in mind. Her gaze dropped to the pin in its box. No matter where Saundra attached it, the Star would ruin the lines of the gown. Tara tapped her finger to her chin. She still had a possible solution or two up her sleeve. “Cheri at Dress For A Day could probably create a belt or a sash for you to wear during the ceremony.” The bridal salon had been a favorite of the many places she’d visited in Heart’s Landing. “If she made it removable, you could take it off for the reception.”
“You think?” Saundra’s demeanor brightened. “I like the idea of a sash. It kind of fits in with the whole family tradition.” Her excitement faded as quickly as it had built. “There’s probably not enough time, though. The wedding’s tomorrow.”
“You’ll never know unless you ask. I have Cheri’s number in my room. Let me run upstairs and call her. The worst she can say is no. But I’m betting the two of you can work things out.” From what she’d heard, Regina had leaned heavily on her position at Weddings Today and had demanded special favors from many Heart’s Landing businesses. Tara had approached things differently, but the owner of the bridal salon owner would no doubt jump at the chance to fill a request for her.
Tilting her head, Saundra narrowed her eyes. “There must be twenty wedding ceremonies taking place in Heart’s Landing this weekend. Why are you helping me?”
Tara took a breath. “Honesty is the best policy, according to my mom. I think it’s incredibly sweet of you to wear your fiancé’s family pin. That’s reason enough.” With a couple of keystrokes, she put the laptop to sleep. Confident that her report to Regina would be safe from prying eyes for a few minutes, she stood. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Saundra motioned. “I have to stop by Alicia’s office for a minute. Other than that, I’ll be right here for the next hour or so.”
Tara gave a nod to the waitstaff manning the coffee urns. Assured they’d keep an eye on her table while she was gone, she trotted up the stairs to her room. Minutes later, she explained Saundra’s predicament to Cheri who, a
s expected, volunteered to help.
“Have her swing by any time this afternoon. My seamstress does amazing work. Your friend is in good hands.”
“Thank you,” Tara said, her appreciation heartfelt.
“We aim to please all our brides in Heart’s Landing. Welcome to the club.”
Warmth flooded Tara’s midsection. She swore Cheri was smiling when the shopkeeper ended their conversation. And no wonder. Taking part in the town’s tradition felt better than Tara had ever thought it would.
Chapter Sixteen
Jason ran through his lines for the pageant. This time, though, he paid particular attention to Mary’s role. Just as he’d told Tara, the part was light on dialogue. For someone as smart as her, memorizing the half-dozen lines should be a snap. Not that the character was an easy one to portray. The last scene, especially, required a flair for the dramatic.
He scanned the final page. Having steered his ship through the hurricane in order to reach port, Captain Thaddeus burst onto the widow’s walk. Cutlass in hand, he freed Mary from the ropes that bound her to the railing. The kiss that came next elicited cheers from the crowd each year. When Evelyn had played the part of Mary, Jason had always shielded their faces with his feathered hat. Hidden from the audience’s view, they’d grin at each other while they counted out ten long seconds. Tomorrow, though, Tara would take on the role. Considering their newly declared feelings for each other, he suspected he’d dispense with the hat.
Blood pulsed at his temples. He hadn’t believed in love at first sight before, but now he knew it existed. He’d loved Tara from the moment he’d set eyes on her in his office. His heart thrilled at the idea that she loved him, too.
But was their love strong enough to last? Especially when she lived in New York while his home was here in Heart’s Landing? He’d tried and failed to keep the spark alive with Clarissa…and she only lived as far away as Boston. He’d blamed long distance for the failure of their relationship, but that had only been an excuse. The truth was, he’d never loved Clarissa. Not really. Now that he’d fallen deeply and truly in love with Tara, he knew the difference. Whenever Clarissa had earned a promotion or closed a deal, he’d been happy for her, but his heart hadn’t swelled with pride the way it had when Tara had overcome her fears to walk out on stage during the Smith wedding. The tiniest bit of irritation had colored his view of the long hours Clarissa devoted to her job. Not so with Tara. With her, he’d rolled up his sleeves and pored over log books for hours on end. Most of all, he’d never dreamed about the future with Clarissa. Sure, he’d been on the verge of proposing to her, but he’d never looked at the years that lay ahead, hadn’t dreamed of children and baseball games and ballet recitals. Not like he did with Tara. He wanted all that with her, and more. He could see them in their dotage, sitting beside each other in a pair of rocking chairs on the widow’s walk.
