Her Secret Alaskan Family (Home To Owl Creek Book 1)

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Her Secret Alaskan Family (Home To Owl Creek Book 1) Page 5

by Belle Calhoune


  Sage was standing a few feet away from a quaint shop window adorned with lovely curtains and a display of brightly colored teapots. She moved closer and pressed her face against the frosted-over window to get a better look. The interior looked cozy and warm. A soft glow emanated from inside. It seemed like the perfect place to take a load off her feet.

  She looked up at the dainty gold sign hanging above the entrance. Tea Time. It was the shop Trudy had told her about this morning. Frankly, she could use a nice cup of tea at the moment. If she ducked inside she could avoid the possibility of running into Hank and having to explain why she’d taken off. What could she possibly say to explain her disappearing act?

  Sage slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside. The scent of lavender hung in the air. She looked around with a feeling of wonder. It felt as if she had stepped back in time to another era. The tea shop was decorated with plush velvet chairs, stunning rugs and silk fans hanging on the walls. A brightly lit chandelier hung from the ceiling and brocade wallpaper graced the walls. A whimsical photo of a bear in a pink tutu hung by the front desk, along with an old-fashioned telephone.

  The place was fairly empty but there was a low hum of voices emanating from the dining room. A tall woman with dark brown skin approached Sage with a welcoming smile. “Hello. I’m Iris Lawson. Welcome to Tea Time. Are you a party of one?” she asked.

  Sage nodded. “Yes, it’s just me today.”

  “Perfect. Let me show you to a table.” Sage followed behind Iris, taking in all the lovely details of the establishment along the way.

  Once she was seated at a table, Iris handed her a menu. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  Sage looked around her with curiosity. There was an older woman sitting by herself at a neighboring table. She was a striking woman with jet-black hair streaked with silver. She had a widow’s peak much like Sage’s own and she was wearing an elaborate navy blue hat with a peacock feather on top. A pearl necklace graced her neck. She looked regal. Sage made eye contact with the woman and smiled.

  “Are you a first timer?” the woman asked.

  Sage nodded. “Yes. It looked so lovely when I peered through the window, I couldn’t resist coming inside.” Truthfully, it reminded her of a tearoom her mother used to take her to when she was a little girl of eight or nine. The sweet memory was jarring in the face of her mother’s shocking confession. At the moment she was struggling to make sense of the dual sides of Jane Duncan. Loving mother versus heartless criminal.

  The woman continued to speak. “Isn’t it exquisite? I make it a point to come here several times a week. You’re in for a treat.”

  Sage had a niggling feeling she’d seen this woman before. She looked so familiar.

  Suddenly it came to her. She was Beulah North, the matriarch of the North family. Studying her birth family prior to her arrival in Owl Creek had been a smart move on her part. Strangely, it gave her comfort to recognize a few people from her family tree.

  “I don’t blame you,” Sage murmured. “It’s a beautiful place to sit back and relax.”

  “If you’re not waiting for anyone, I’d love some company. It appears my date has stood me up.” Beulah nodded toward one of the empty chairs at her table.

  “I’d be happy to join you. Thanks for asking,” Sage said as she gathered up her purse, then stood up and made her way over to Beulah’s nearby table. Although Beulah had no way of knowing it, Sage was so nervous her knees were knocking together. She wanted so badly to make a good impression on her grandmother.

  “I’m Beulah North. And you are?” she asked, sticking out her hand to Sage.

  “Sage Duncan,” she replied, shaking the elegant woman’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Sage. Are you a newcomer to Owl Creek? Surely I’d remember seeing a young lady as beautiful as you are around town.”

  Sage felt herself blushing. “You’re too kind.”

  “Not really,” Beulah said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m known in Owl Creek for telling it like it is.” She winked at Sage. “Some people here in town find it off-putting at times.”

  Sage chuckled. “To answer your question, I’m only a temporary resident here in town.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  “Yes. I’m visiting for roughly six weeks...and I’m a teacher, so I suppose you could call it a sabbatical.”

  Beulah regarded her with knowing eyes. “Say no more. I know what it’s like to be overwhelmed and want to hide away from the world for a bit.” She reached across the table and patted Sage’s hand. “Owl Creek is the perfect place to reflect and take stock of your life.”

  Sage opened her mouth to tell Beulah she hadn’t come to Alaska for those reasons. But what would she say? It was out of the question to blurt out her real reasons for making this incredible trek to Alaska. Beulah might pass out if she told her she was her long-lost stolen grandbaby. Or she might assume Sage was yet another fraud bent on deception. No, for the time being, it was far better for Beulah and the rest of the townsfolk to believe she’d come to Owl Creek seeking a refuge from the storms of life. Once the truth came out, her father could be swept up in a cloud of suspicion and legal wrangling. The thought of it made her shudder.

  Iris provided a welcome distraction by appearing at their table with a wide grin on her face and pushing a tea cart laden with goodies. “I wondered if the two of you might wind up sitting together. Afternoon tea is much better with company.” She looked over at Sage. “I brought over Beulah’s favorite lavender tea. Let me know if you’d like something else instead.”

  “I’m not fussy about tea or food, so I’m sure it will be fine,” Sage said, inhaling the heady aromas of the various teas. “Everything smells delicious.”

  Iris placed the steaming teapot down on the table along with a three-tiered stand overflowing with finger sandwiches, tiny cakes, scones and miniature muffins. Even though she’d recently eaten lunch, Sage’s hunger kicked in at the sight of the scrumptious treats.

  “Enjoy!” Iris said before walking off toward another table.

  Beulah lifted the teapot and leaned toward Sage to pour tea into her cup. Her movements were graceful. Once Beulah served herself, they both began adding sweeteners and milk to their cups. Sage reached for a cucumber sandwich and a blueberry scone. The two of them settled into a companionable silence as they drank their tea.

  “Do you like chocolate?” Beulah asked. She seemed to be sitting on the edge of her seat, anxiously awaiting Sage’s reply.

  “Is that even a question?” Sage asked with a chuckle. “I didn’t know it was possible for a person not to like chocolate.” She lifted her teacup up to her mouth and took a sip of the piping hot tea.

  Beulah threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Her tinkling laughter filled the air and warmed Sage’s heart. Beulah North radiated an air of goodness. Given everything the North family had been put through, it made Sage feel hopeful. As awful as the kidnapping had been it clearly hadn’t destroyed Beulah or her zest for life.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “I love all kinds. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate. Chocolate-covered cherries. Truffles. Pecan clusters. Caramel chocolate. Honestly, I’m crazy about all of them.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more. In my world, chocolate is a staple. I’ve loved it ever since I came out of the womb, which is one of the dozens of reasons I married my husband, Jennings, bless his heart. His family created the North Star Chocolate Company right here in Owl Creek.”

  “That’s impressive. I’ve heard a lot about it. I really wanted to take a tour of the factory this afternoon, but it was quite hectic over there this morning with the press conference and the media crush.”

  Suddenly, there was a look of distress etched on the older woman’s features. Sage could have kicked herself for blurting out the n
ews. Perhaps Beulah hadn’t known anything at all about her family’s statement to the press. If that was true, Sage had spilled the beans.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “That was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean to dredge up an uncomfortable topic.”

  Beulah paused to take a sip of her tea. “There’s no need to apologize. I knew all about the press conference, which is why I’m sitting right here at this table sipping my favorite tea and enjoying your lovely company. I opted out of it.”

  Sage sensed Beulah wanted to talk, so she simply stayed quiet and listened.

  “This time of year isn’t easy for my family,” Beulah admitted. “I’m sure you’ve heard a little something about it, but twenty-five years ago we suffered a terrible loss. My sweet granddaughter Lily was stolen from us.” She shuddered. “Gone without a trace. It’s amazing how in some ways time has stood still and we’re all still waiting for some type of closure. I just couldn’t go to that dark place today.” Beulah scoffed. “I must sound like a real chicken, but my heart has been knocked around a bit in the years since we lost Lily. I don’t want to hope for her return only to have my heart ripped out of my chest again. My sweet Jennings has been affected deeply by it. Most days he doesn’t even venture outside.”

  Tears pooled in Beulah’s eyes, which in turn caused a huge lump to rise to Sage’s throat.

  Instinctively, she reached across the table and squeezed Beulah’s hand. “You don’t sound like a chicken at all. You sound like a woman who has been through a terrible ordeal. I’m so sorry.” It hurt to see Beulah so wounded and to know that she was tied up in the pain the North family had endured. It was one thing to know it from a distance, but now she was up close and personal to the living, breathing people whose lives had been forever altered by her mother’s selfish actions.

  “You’re a very kind woman, Sage. And I’m going to personally make sure you receive that tour of the chocolate factory.” She beamed at Sage. “Matter of fact, I’m going to show you around myself.” Beulah’s gaze drifted to a point past Sage’s shoulder. Within seconds, Sage looked up to find Hank standing next to their table with his arms folded across his chest. His steely gaze was focused on Sage.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Hank drawled, his eyes full of questions. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to. Was it something I said?”

  * * *

  Hank couldn’t deny the slight thrill he got from putting Sage on the spot. The look on her face when he’d appeared at her table had been priceless. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her mouth had opened without any words coming out. He reckoned it was safe to say she was speechless. Beulah, on the other hand, seemed as if she had plenty to say to him.

  “Oh, look what the cat dragged in. It’s my gentleman companion.” Beulah dramatically pulled up her sleeve and looked at her watch. “And he’s only thirty-five minutes late.”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss on Beulah’s cheek. “Forgive me, Miss Beulah. I didn’t forget about our tea date, but I’ve been putting out a few fires at the chocolate factory. There was a real commotion over there.”

  Beulah wrinkled her nose and made a harrumphing sound. “As I live and breathe! I was stood up for a press conference!”

  Hank spread his arms wide. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Better late than never.”

  “You’re incorrigible. I should warn all the women in Owl Creek about you,” Beulah scolded.

  “You know I only have eyes for you,” Hank said in a teasing tone.

  “If I was only twenty years younger,” Beulah quipped, batting her eyelashes.

  Hank wagged his finger at her. “Now who’s being incorrigible?”

  Iris appeared at their table and leaned in to give Hank a hug. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll bring another tea-and-saucer set over?”

  “Thanks, Iris,” Hank responded. He was still getting used to calling her by her first name after a lifetime of calling her Mrs. Lawson. Gabriel’s mother was one of his favorite Owl Creek residents. She was a devoted mother with a strong entrepreneurial spirit.

  “I don’t want to intrude,” he said, his gaze swinging toward Sage, who appeared slightly uncomfortable. Did he make her nervous? Or was she feeling awkward due to her disappearing act?

  “Don’t be silly!” Beulah patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, Hank, and join us. I take it the two of you already know each other.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked back and forth between them. Hank let out a sigh. If Beulah was looking for any dirt about his relationship with Sage, she was bound to be sorely disappointed.

  Sage nodded. “Hank and I met on the ferry over to Owl Creek. I’m staying at Trudy’s inn while I’m here in town, so it was a pretty funny coincidence to run into each other there.”

  Hank wanted to laugh out loud at the look of disappointment stamped on Beulah’s face. He would bet his last dollar she’d been imagining a deeper connection between him and Sage.

  Why did women in this town always want to pair him up with someone? Perhaps he needed to walk around town with a sign announcing he was happily single and not looking for romantic entanglements. Instead of devoting himself to a woman, Hank had decided to give fatherhood 100 percent of his time and attention. He knew he’d never regret that particular decision.

  Hank sank down into a seat and thanked Iris as she placed a teacup in front of him. If anyone had told him a few years ago that he would become a tea fanatic, he would have called them all kinds of crazy. But ever since Iris opened up the doors of Tea Time, his love of tea had risen dramatically. There wasn’t a single thing he didn’t like about teatime. The various flavors of tea. The dainty little cakes and sandwiches. Gabriel and Connor enjoyed giving him a hard time about it, but he didn’t mind the ribbing.

  Hank raised the cup to his mouth and let out a sound of appreciation. “Nothing hits the spot like lavender tea.”

  “It’s delicious,” Sage murmured. “The flavor is a bit unusual, but I’m enjoying it.”

  “It’s fun to try new things, isn’t it?” Beulah asked. “It’s all part of your grand Alaskan adventure.”

  Sage grinned at Beulah and it made him feel a little bit off-kilter. Much as he hated to admit it, Sage Duncan drew him in like a moth to a flame. Her gentle beauty and the slight air of mystery hovering around her was extremely appealing. He didn’t even want to look in her direction too much, for fear he might be staring. Hank dragged his gaze back to Beulah, knowing he was heading into dangerous territory every time he was in Sage’s presence.

  Beulah sent him a pointed look. “So, what did I miss, Hank? Over at the factory.”

  For a moment, Hank hesitated. He didn’t know Sage well enough to discuss the issue in front of her, but after today’s press conference the subject was out there for public consumption. It would soon be splashed all over the internet and the covers of newspapers.

  He locked gazes with Beulah. Even though he knew she was a tough cookie, she looked a little frayed around the edges. The toll of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the kidnapping was clearly getting to her. “Willa and Nate let the media know about the letter they received. They’re determined to offer a hefty monetary reward for any leads on Lily’s whereabouts.”

  Beulah made a tutting sound. “If money had been the objective, wouldn’t there have been a ransom demand all those years ago?”

  “Honestly, I think they’re hoping an accomplice or an informant might have some information and be motivated by the reward. It’s a long shot, but the letter gave them hope.”

  “How do they know the letter is genuine?” Sage asked. “Are you able to disclose what the letter said?”

  Hank looked over at her, marveling at her wide brown eyes flecked with gold. Her question about the authenticity of the letter was a good one, but once again, Hank found himself struggling to maintain an air of professionalism. As town sheriff, he knew certain
things about the Lily North case that he couldn’t reveal and it wouldn’t be right to share that information with Sage. His own father had been sheriff at the time of the kidnapping. It had been Tug Crawford’s dream to solve the case, although his premature death made it an impossibility.

  Before Hank could respond, Beulah jumped in.

  “It was an apology of sorts, I suppose. According to the letter, Lily is alive and this individual raised her as her own child. The person who left the letter put some breadcrumbs in it,” Beulah explained. “There was one major detail that was never reported after Lily was taken.” The older woman’s hand shook and she rested the teacup on the table. “When Lily was stolen, the kidnapper took her baby blanket along with her. It was an heirloom piece and very distinctive because it had an owl motif. My daughter-in-law Willa made it herself. It was referenced in the letter.”

  Hank frowned at Beulah. She shouldn’t have disclosed those facts to Sage. There were so few people who had been privy to the details about the baby blanket. For all these years the circle had been incredibly small, and the media had never caught wind of it. Now that Beulah had let the cat out of the bag there was no telling who might pounce on the information.

  “Beulah, I don’t think it’s a good idea to share specific details of the case.” He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but he could tell by Beulah’s and Sage’s reactions that he’d sounded severe. Sage appeared to be mortified while a storm was brewing in Beulah’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry,” Sage said, her tone apologetic. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked down at her teacup. Hank wanted to kick himself. She looked so humbled, as if she had been put in her place. He had only meant to warn Beulah against revealing so much to a virtual stranger.

  Beulah abruptly stood up. “I won’t be treated like a child, Hank Crawford! I may be from the older generation, but I still have my full faculties about me. After twenty-five years I have the right to discuss Lily’s disappearance however I see fit.” She stomped her foot. “This has been a terrible day, full of reminders of everything my family has lost. Twenty-five years later and I’m still expected to walk on eggshells. It’s no wonder poor Jennings stays cooped up in the house and refuses to be a part of the world.”

 

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