Secrets of Sandhill Island

by Peggy Chambers

  “There are new and better ways of building that are hurricane proof,” Jon said. “I was surprised a thirty mile an hour gust hadn’t taken that little shack down. I worried about you all the time living here. A major hurricane could still take out any structure on a beach, but a new one, built to hurricane codes, would stand up fairly well.”

  “Do you really think we could?”

  “Yes,” they both replied at the same time.

  “And maybe we could have a wedding there too,” Alex said with a sly smile. Meg looked at his face as he looked out to sea and then back at her. He got down on one knee and held her hand.

  “Meg, will you marry me? A starving artist?”

  Jon cleared his throat, “Excuse me, I’ll be over there.” He walked away and looked out to the ocean.

  “You’re not a starving artist.”

  “No, so would the heiress marry a successful artist? One who is only successful because of her?”

  “I didn’t make you successful.”

  “You’re avoiding the question,” he said.

  Meg smiled, and in the middle of the debris that used to be her life she said yes to a new one. He kissed her lightly at first, then more deeply holding her head in his hands. She wrapped her arms around the man she loved kissing him back—in the garden where the relationship started.

  Still in a state of shock from the proposal, Meg insisted they drive to the dock before the meeting. All that was left were pilings standing in places where the dock had separated. Some of the debris had been pushed up on the shore, others were entirely gone. The office where her father’s place of business once stood and the first place she had talked to Mike Fitzgerald was missing—blown away and then pulled out to sea. More of her old life was gone, but not all of that life had been good. The only boats tied up at the dock were Paul’s shrimper and a tugboat she didn’t recognize. But, it could be rebuilt.

  At dinner that night Sam put out the spread that earned him a reputation as a first class chef. Everything was fresh. He was growing a small herb garden behind the restaurant with the help of a new employee, a gardener from the mainland. He was again trucking in produce since Meg’s garden had blown away. But, the fresh herbs gave things a new flair.

  Meg walked around the restaurant talking to all the people from the island that she had known for so long. It was good to be home even if she really didn’t have a home to go back to.

  After most everyone had eaten and drank their fill, Jon stood and tapped his glass with his fork. “The reason for this meeting tonight is to talk to the good people of Sandhill Island. As you know it has made my family what it is today.” There were some quiet groans in the crowd. “But, with that in mind, my mother has insisted—and I agree with her—that we repay you and hope to make amends for any wrong doing that may, or may not, have been done to you in the past.”

  Meg stifled a grin at her son who would always be a lawyer.

  “So with that in mind, we have prepared deeds conveying all property back to the rightful owners who may have been wrongfully, or without careful consideration, taken from them.” The murmurs began at the back and then slowly grew louder.

  “Sam,” Jon said, handing a document to the chef that prepared the evening meal, “this deed, properly filed at the county, conveys your parcel of land here on Sandhill Island back to you and your family with the apologies of the Stanford Corporation. If there are any questions, please feel free to call my office.” He handed the file-stamped deed and a business card to Sam and then began to hand out the other deeds to the people in the crowd. “You are all land owners again, and the rent due the Stanford Corporation will not be due this month or any other in the future.”

  The room sat in stricken silence, then Sam began to clap and soon every hand in the crowd joined in. Stunned faces began to smile as they read over the deeds that were handed out and the conversations started as they compared deeds. They were land owners!

  Meg smiled warmly at her son, knowing they had done the right thing.

  “Sam, is there still an empty apartment over the restaurant and would you be willing to rent it to Alex and me?” Meg asked after the meeting was over.

  Sam stopped in his tracks. “Rent it to you?”

  “You own the place. We might need it for a year until the new house is built. You know how slowly these things go sometimes. We’d be happy to sign a lease if you like. It might take a year to get the building finished and we’d be happy to pay you well for it. I think it might be a short tourist season this year with the clean-up and such. Alex and I have decided to rebuild in the same place as the original beach house.”

  “No, Meg, I won’t rent to you. That apartment is not much anyway. But, you can live there for free. I owe you so much, and that little place is just sitting there empty.”

  “No, Sam, we insist on paying you rent. You could rent it out to tourists. We just don’t want to live in Corpus until the house is built. Alex will be going back and forth to the gallery a lot anyway, and I could be close to my garden. I hope to get it back up and in shape before long.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Of course you can stay in the apartment, but I really don’t feel right taking money from you.”

  “Well, if you don’t rent to us, someone else could use it. So, if you will agree, we’ll get some furniture delivered. Please say yes.”

  “You know I can never turn you down, Meg.” Sam smiled. “Of course you can use the apartment; that way I’ll get the vegetables sooner rather than later.”

  ****

  “The one place in the world that I love almost as much as Sandhill Island is Italy,” Meg told the architect. “I think I want an Italian villa, but built to make it as hurricane proof as possible.”

  “That can be done. We’ll sink the anchoring piers deep into the sand to begin with. I have a plan in mind that I have never used, but it could be modified to make it hurricane proof.”

  “Alex and I will be back and forth to Corpus Christi while he goes to the gallery that has his paintings, and here is my cell number. We live in an apartment on the island, but you can find us whenever you need us. I like to stay home as much as possible to work in my garden.”

  “I’m sure I can find you, Ms. Stanford, and will call you soon with the results of my design.”

  The day the builders came to begin work on the new home, the townspeople came out to see the bulldozers and equipment

  “Meg,” Sam said, standing as he helped her with the perennial plants that were returning. “I think these guys are here to see you.”

  She stood and shaded her eyes with her hands, watching the trucks of building supplies stopped at the top of the sand dunes. Her dream home built in a familiar place was about to become a reality.

  Epilogue

  The string quartet warmed up in the screened-in gazebo that sat in the middle of the garden beside a fountain. The sea breeze blew lightly past the rose bushes growing beside the house. The Tuscan style home extended out the back where the patio made a second outdoor living room and turned the corner to the art studio off the other side of the house.

  Sam ran in circles, making sure the buffet was perfect. The shrimp on ice in the kitchen would be brought out at the last minute. The wedding cake sat on the table next to the champagne fountain, surrounded by rose petals.

  The bride in an ivory lace tea-length sun dress with matching sequined sandals walked out the front door and leaned against the pillar that held up the roof. She looked out at the water as she fingered her bouquet of sunflowers and sea oats hung with ivory ribbons. The waves crashed far out in the ocean and then rolled in gently onto the shore that was their front yard.

  Kicking off her shoes, she walked barefoot to the tide pool that gathered at the edge of the water and dipped one toe, careful not to soil the dress. She looked longingly out at her beloved ocean and thought she saw a fishing vessel, and then blinked. It was gone. Down the shore, a deeply tanned man walked toward her, smiling.
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  “He loves you, Meg.” His bright emerald eyes crinkled at the corners in the sun.

  “I love him, too.” She smiled. “But, I’ll always love you, Evan. We didn’t have enough time.”

  “We had enough. We created Jon, and that was enough.”

  “He’s wonderful,” she said.

  “Thanks to his mother.”

  “Meg?” Alex called from the porch. “You coming?”

  “In a minute,” she said, twisting around to look at her groom. When she turned back, Evan had disappeared just like the fishing boat she thought she had seen. She smiled and walked back to the new house, digging her toes in the sand as she went.

  Inside the living room, the minister stood next to the fireplace. Jon and the nurse that took care of Meg while she was in the hospital were hand in hand. She was short, blonde, and kind. Everything that Victoria wasn’t. They made a nice couple. Meg hoped she would stay in the family and they would become good friends.

  The entire population of the Island was in attendance. Greg, the driver, and his family, Tom from the gallery, the women from Meg’s favorite boutique on the mainland, and the employees of the salon were also invited to the smallest wedding of the year. This time, they brought the spa and boutique to her. They spent most of the morning getting Meg ready for her big day while drinking mimosas. Even the fishermen and tugboat crew from the ferry were in attendance, and they insisted that Poppy come, too. After all, he was part of the community. The wedding at the new hurricane-proof home they had been building for a year was filled with their closest friends.

  Later, Meg hardly remembered the minister’s words, but she remembered when Alex kissed her. She was where she was meant to be—at home in her new beach house with the man she loved and the friends she made along the way. Finally, she would have the life she had always wanted, but was afraid to try. She could be more than just a mother—she could be a lover, wife, neighbor, friend, and philanthropist. What more could you expect of one life?

  After the short ceremony, everyone traveled to the back of the house and the simple garden filled with tables and chairs among the plants. With their arms linked, Alex and Meg drank a toast to their new life together, and their friends cheered loudly.

  Sam served everyone his finest fare of shrimp, pasta, bread, and fresh vegetables—many from the new garden in Meg’s backyard. The cake was big enough for twice the number of guests and was decorated in red raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries with sprigs of mint and lavender.

  Sitting in the shade of umbrellas, Meg and her new husband ate dinner and wedding cake into the evening with their friends. The sunset reflected off Meg’s glass of chardonnay as she held it up to the decreasing sunlight, watching the colors as they spread across the liquid. And there, by the squash, she saw him. The little brown bunny munched happily along with the other guests at Meg’s new home; a symbol of her new life.

  A word about the author...

  Peggy Chambers calls Enid, Oklahoma home. She has been writing for several years and is a twice-published author, always working on another.

  She spends her days working in an office and her nights and weekends making up stories. She has two children, five grandchildren, and lives with her husband and dog.

  She attended Phillips University, the University of Central Oklahoma, and is a graduate of the University of Oklahoma. She is a member of the Oklahoma Writers’ Federation, Inc., Enid Writers’ Club, and Oklahoma Women Bloggers.

  There is always another story weaving itself around in her brain trying to come out. There aren’t enough hours in the day!

  ~*~

  Ms. Chambers writes a weekly blog at http://peggylchambers.wordpress.com/

  Please “like” her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/BraWars

  or connect with her on Twitter at

  @ChambersPeggy

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.