by Verna Clay
Faith's eyes widened. "Are there many bumps in the night?"
Vicky laughed. "No, not many, but if you want a place with more than that, you should go to Stone House out on the northern peninsula."
"You mean the first house built by the town's founder?"
"Yes." She leaned forward. "It's locked up, but ever so often tourists or locals who explore the grounds tell of strange happenings."
Faith also leaned forward. "Like what?"
Vicky said softly, "They tell stories of voices coming from inside the home and a dog's bark outside, but no dog around. There have even been reports of male and female apparitions in Victorian dress."
Vicky's cell phone rang and the women jumped. Vicky laughed and glanced at the caller ID. "It's Mr. Constanzo." She answered, "Hi, Leo," and smiled at Faith. She listened and said, "That's great. I'll be right down with my new friend, Faith Bennison, who's staying at Gabby's place." She paused and listened again. "Okay. See you in a second." She hung up. "The owner of the museum is downstairs. He wants to see my idea for a new brochure. Come on. He's really nice."
Faith followed Vicky downstairs to the foyer and saw a tall man reading entries in the guestbook. He glanced up when he heard them and smiled warmly. He was probably in his late fifties or early sixties and still a very handsome man: tall with a touch of gray at his temples blending into thick black hair, a lithe but solid body evidencing a healthy lifestyle, and a friendly smile with beautifully straight white teeth. Faith wondered if he wore dentures, but quickly cast that notion aside when she stepped close enough to shake his outstretched hand after Vicky made introductions.
Leo Constanzo said, "It's a pleasure making your acquaintance, Ms. Bennison. I hope you're enjoying your stay in Somewhere."
"Thank you, Mr. Constanzo, but please call me Faith. And yes, I love everything about Somewhere."
"And you must call me Leo. I'm addressed as Mr. Constanzo every day at work and frankly, after hours, I ask everyone to call me by my first name."
Vicky had walked to her small desk and removed a piece of paper that she now handed to her employer. As she began explaining her drawing for a brochure, Faith noted that she was an excellent artist. Leo added a few ideas and they quickly decided to go with the new look. He then engaged Faith and Vicky in a short conversation about a storm expected to arrive within a day or two. After he left, Faith returned with Vicky to her sitting room, where they warmed their tea in the microwave and spoke about the town's annual outdoor market. Vicky said, "Main Street will be closed at both ends and filled with vendors. We get lots of artists, photographers, health food sellers, farmers, jewelry makers, birdhouse builders, junk food peddlers, and more. I'm going to have a booth representing the museum and that's why we redesigned the brochure."
Vicky's cell phone rang again and she frowned. "Excuse me. This is my mom."
Faith glanced at her watch. "No problem. I need to leave anyway. I'll pop into the museum next week to say hi. Don't worry about showing me out."
Vicky nodded and answered her phone. "Hi, Mom. Are you feeling better?"
The next day after breakfast Faith stepped onto the balcony and scanned the sky. In the distance low lying gray clouds contrasted with blue skies directly overhead. Leo had said a storm was approaching, so Faith vacillated between staying in her room and writing her pirate story or taking a walk in the woods. The walk won.
The foyer and dining room were empty and she considered going to the kitchen to let someone know where she was headed, but since she had her cell phone, she decided it wasn't necessary.
After her first excursion into the forest she had returned only once and still hadn't gone as far as Stone House. Now, with the sun shining and clouds far in the distance, the day was perfect for an adventure to the headland of Gabby's peninsula.
She walked past the private beach and a few sunbathers to reach the scattered boulders, and then the trailhead. When she came to the fork, she reconsidered going to Stone House because if she veered north, she would once again find herself at the lovely overlook of the adjoining cove, but then she might run into Baxter. Although she saw him almost every day, she always felt tongue-tied around him. He was very attractive and carried a commanding persona that intimidated her.
She continued westward with the sun dappling the ground through breaks in the trees, but the air suddenly cooled and the sky darkened. The storm clouds that had been so far away were now overhead. For a moment she considered running back to the B & B, but a fat raindrop made it through the tree branches and landed on her cheek. She was closer to Stone House than the B & B, so she rushed forward. She figured she could take cover under an eave at Stone House.
The sky blackened even more and a bolt of lightening temporarily illuminated the trees before thunder shook the ground like an earthquake. It was then that Faith wished she had told someone where she was going. They probably would have talked her out of it. She reached into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone and check the signal strength. There were no bands.
By now, torrents of water were breaking through wind slashed trees and soaking her. She started running as fast as feasible toward the house at the end of the trail.
Another lightening bolt streaked through the sky, closer. She ran faster. When a third flash lit the air, she stopped and placed a hand over her heart. In front of her on a bluff was Stone House and beyond it, the raging sea.
11: Rex
Running to Stone House, Faith reached the backside and cowered under the overhang. From what she had seen during the lightening flash it was one story and not overly large, and to weather such storms for over a hundred years, it had to have been solidly built. Slowly, she edged from the back of the house to the southern side which seemed more protected from the wind. She continued along the wall, passed a window that was securely boarded from the inside, and paused at the front corner.
Another flash brightened the sky and gave her a momentary glimpse of the front of the house which faced the sea. Again, she was amazed at how solid the house remained after so many years. She was standing at the edge of a low stone porch that, except for rotted railing, appeared intact. Rather than step onto the porch through a gap in the disintegrated wood, she returned to the shelter afforded by the southern wall. When there was a break in the storm she slipped through the gap and rushed to the front door. As she had expected it was locked. The storm raged anew and another flash revealed that the railing on the northern side was new. Obviously, someone was restoring the porch, but that didn't help her now. She noted a window beside the door that was also boarded. The wind's ferocity picked up and lightening flashed multiple times in succession.
Faith hurried back to the shelter on the southern side and huddled there. Over the next hour she shivered with cold, but stayed crouched in the best location available. And while she shivered she berated herself for her naivety of coastal squalls. She would never make that mistake again.
The air darkened even more and that's when she began to actually fear for her safety. Was she in the midst of a hurricane? The storm grew louder and surprisingly she thought she heard the voice of a child calling out, "Rex!" Was it only the wind? Was it her imagination?
She jumped to her feet and ran from the shelter of the building toward the edge of the bluff looking for a child. She squinted into the dim light and waited for the lightening to flash again. When it did she saw nothing other than an empty bluff and waves raging beyond the promontory. Rain pelted her face. She turned to search the land behind her and screamed as a dark shape rushed forward.
Faith started to run but then struggled against powerful arms holding her prisoner. She kicked, yelled, and fought with strength garnered from an adrenaline rush before she honed in on a voice. "Faith, stop it! It's Baxter! I'm trying to help you!"
Baxter? Her assailant was Baxter? She stopped struggling and allowed him to draw her to the safety of the porch. He stepped away from her. "I've got a blanket in my backpack for you."
Faith felt weak with relief knowing that she'd been found and sagged against the stones of the house. She closed her eyes and a moment later felt a blanket being spread over her shoulders. She reached to pull it tightly around her and opened her eyes to see Baxter squatting low enough so that he could look directly into her face. His concern made her wince.
"What are you doing out in the storm? And why were you on the bluff in such weather? If one of the guests hadn't seen you headed toward the forest and become concerned when you didn't return, you might have been stuck outside for hours."
Faith replied weakly, "Thank you." Baxter leaned closer and she said louder, "Thank you! I had no idea the weather could become this terrible in such a short time." Then she remembered the child's voice. "I thought I heard a child calling for someone named Rex. That's why I was on the bluff. I was looking for the child. Did you hear anything? Do you think we should search?"
Baxter suddenly straightened and Faith glanced up. His expression had morphed from concern to what looked like anger.
She repeated, "Did you hear anyone?"
"No. There's no one."
Lightening flashed and Faith jumped. As thunder rocked the ground, Baxter clasped her arm and called above the storm, "We need to get inside the house." He pulled her toward the front door and reached into his rain slicker pocket for a key. After a couple of twists of the doorknob it opened.
12: Warmth
Faith entered Stone House and Baxter picked up an oil lamp from a table beside the door and lit it. She followed him into the room and from the light of the lamp it was evident that a restoration project was in progress. There were a couple of saw horses, several stacks of boards, and two piles of river stones beside a massive fireplace along the back wall. The face of the fireplace was obviously being refurbished.
Faith watched Baxter grab a couple of logs from a bin on the hearth and set them atop the remains of a partially consumed one. He wadded some newspaper from a basket and retrieved a butane lighter from the mantle. After some coaxing the fire blazed brightly and Faith, with the blanket wrapped around her wet clothing, stepped to the hearth.
Baxter had not spoken since entering the house and neither had she. Was he angry because he'd had to venture into the storm to rescue her?
He reached for a poker hanging from a large hook embedded in the mortar of the fireplace and she studied his profile that appeared chiseled from stone. She cleared her throat. "I'm really sorry for causing all this trouble. I had no idea the storm would happen so fast. I thought I had plenty of time to take a walk because the clouds were so far away." She hesitated. "I don't know what else to say except that I'm stupid and really sorry."
Baxter replaced the poker and turned to gaze at her. His expression had softened and he puffed a breath. "You're not the first person to get stuck in a storm. We should have warned you that the weather can turn treacherous. It's rare, but days like this sometimes happen during summer."
The fire was beginning to blaze and Faith closed her eyes, willing her body to stop shivering. When she opened them again, Baxter was still watching her. Another shiver shook her, but it wasn't from the cold. She moved her attention to the fire. "How long do storms like this usually last?"
"They can continue for days."
Her eyes widened.
Baxter unexpectedly smiled. "But the weather report said it should only last a few hours. I expect we won't be here long."
Faith turned her back to the fire and glanced around the room. "Are you the one restoring Stone House?"
Baxter also turned around. "Yes. The work is being done by a contractor friend of mine who lives in town. He's been restoring the place during his off hours for the past three months, and now that I'm here for the summer, I'll be helping him"
Faith glanced around the room and the flickering shadows caused by the light of the fire and the oil lamp. "I guess there's no electricity."
"No. We're using that generator to power our tools." He pointed to a large object in a corner obscured by the shadows. "We'll be installing solar panels after the home is restored."
"After it's finished will you be opening the house to the public?"
"No. This is a pet project of mine. Since I was a child I've wanted to restore this place, and because my job is sometimes stressful, it's become a top priority. I want somewhere to kick back and experience, to some extent, what my forefathers did. Perhaps someday I'll open the home to guests at the B & B, but not now. We allow guests to wander the peninsula, but after the refurbishing is complete, this area will be off limits because I'm moving here from the B & B."
"Sounds lonely." Immediately, Faith wished she hadn't spoken. Somehow the words seemed to be a judgment call on her part. Obviously, Baxter liked solitude and it was none of her business. Thankfully, he ignored her comment.
"Would you like a tour?"
"Yes. Very much." She adjusted the blanket and followed Baxter through an entry on the southern wall into the kitchen. As of yet, the room remained untouched and several cupboards had fallen to the ground. In one corner a fireplace smaller than the one in the other room had partially crumbled. Wooden countertops were decayed and the cast iron porcelain-enameled sink was pitted and chipped and hung precariously from its mooring. Along the western wall, which was the front of the house, a vintage coal and wood burning cook stove with a Great Majestic signet, was in better shape than anything else in the room. Faith walked to the antique and placed her hand on it. "This is magnificent and that brand is worth a fortune in the antiques' market. Are you planning to refurbish it?"
"Yes. Everything in the home that can be salvaged will be. Are you into antiques?"
"Not really. But I enjoy cooking and always wondered what baking on a stove such as this would be like."
"I expect the home will be finished around the end of summer, shortly before I return to California, and if you're still around, you're welcome to give the stove a go."
Surprised, she faced him. "Thank you." She hesitated before confiding, "I'm actually thinking about moving here. I'm…well…in a position to drastically change my lifestyle and…" Her voice trailed. "For years we…I've wanted to come here. You see, I have this coffee table book with photographs of wonderful small towns, and Somewhere was always my favorite." She turned back around and pretended to inspect the stove. Already she regretted having revealed so much about herself.
Baxter said softly, "I'll show you the rest of the house."
Thankful that he hadn't asked her questions about her background, they returned to the main room and one of two doors on the northern side of the cabin. It opened into a bedroom and he said, "The home has two bedrooms, the living area, and the kitchen. The outhouse was located about fifty feet behind the house, but that structure fell down years ago and the hole was filled in. The only modern improvements planned are a small bathroom with a shower at the rear of the kitchen, kitchen plumbing, and solar panels."
Faith asked, "Where does the water come from?"
"There's a well behind the house but right now it's capped. I have an engineer and architect coming next week to inspect it and design plans for the bathroom addition and kitchen piping. I'm not completely modernizing the home, although I may do that someday. For the foreseeable future I'll be using solar power for the refrigerator and a few kitchen appliances, also the water pump. The lighting will be from oil lamps. I'm installing a rainwater catchment system, too."
Faith followed him back to the living area that had quickly warmed and she returned to the fire. In response to his admission about not completely modernizing the house, she said, "I don't blame you for not modernizing. I visited Hope Museum and felt immersed in its history. It must be wonderful knowing your roots and growing up in such a lovely town."
Baxter chuckled. "That's true, but it's also true that everyone knows everyone's business. And gossip travels fast, whether it's true or not."
Faith smiled up at him. "I'm becoming a regular at Mama Pink's Diner so I can't disagree
on that point." Suddenly, she realized that the wind was no longer howling or the thunder roaring.
Baxter said, "Sounds like the storm is over." He walked to the front door and opened it to a shaft of sunlight that bathed the center of the room, and for an instant, Faith forgot her sorrow and imagined a lovely family scene inside Stone House.
13: Noah
Over the next two weeks Faith visited Vicky at the museum and also became friends with the boutique owner, Sandy Gutierrez. When Faith discovered that Vicky and Sandy were friends, she invited them both to dinner. After inquiring about the best seafood restaurant from Gabby, she was told that Seafood Heaven at the end of Ocean Boulevard, past the marina, served outstanding Italian and American cuisine. Gabby added without enthusiasm, "Even though Leonardo Constanzo owns it."
Faith's curiosity was piqued. "You're related, aren't you?"
Gabby grinned. "I hear you've been visiting Mama Pink's Diner, the gossip factory."
Faith felt terrible because Gabby's assessment was correct. Sheepishly, she replied, "I'm sorry. I was being nosy."
Gabby waved her apology aside. "Gossip that's not vicious is entertaining. Yep, me and Leonardo go way back. He was married to my husband's second cousin, Loretta. He and I had a falling out years ago, but it would be petty of me to downgrade his restaurant when it's one of the finest around."
Although curious, Faith didn't broach the reason for the falling out, and Gabby didn't offer an explanation.
A couple of days later Faith picked Vicky up at the museum and followed her directions to Sandy's house on Hope Hill, behind Main Street. Her home was a tiny, adorable cottage surrounded by a white picket fence. Pink bougainvillea cascaded down porch rails and sea-lavender bordered the walkway to the porch steps, scenting the air with heady perfumes. On both sides of a bright red door, huge pots of strawberries spilled over their containers and mingled their fragrance with the other flower essences.
