Books by Keely Brooke Keith
UNCHARTED
The Land Uncharted
Uncharted Redemption
Uncharted Inheritance
Christmas with the Colburns
Uncharted Hope
Uncharted Journey
Uncharted Destiny
Uncharted Promises
UNCHARTED BEGINNINGS
Aboard Providence
Above Rubies
All Things Beautiful
Uncharted Inheritance
Keely Brooke Keith
Edenbrooke Press
Uncharted Inheritance
Copyright 2015 Keely Brooke Keith
Published by Edenbrooke Press
Nashville, Tennessee
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. For inquiries and information, please contact the publisher at: [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names, events are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any events, locations, or persons, alive or otherwise, is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Designed by Najla Qamber Designs
Edited by Dena Pruitt
Interior Design by Edenbrooke Press
For Rachel… someday
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Bonus: Chapter One of Christmas with the Colburns
More Books by Keely Brooke Keith
Connect with Keely Brooke Keith
Chapter One
Bethany Colburn panted as she ran down the forest path away from the shore. Her heels sank into the loose sand between the fallen gray leaf twigs, and her legs burned from the weight of her boots. Ahead, a wisp of smoke rose from the chimney of her family’s home. She was almost there. The cramp in her side demanded she stop running, but shock compelled her forward.
As she rounded the medical cottage and rushed toward the Colburn house, Connor stepped out the back door. She nearly ran into him and sucked in a breath. “You won’t believe what I saw at the shore! Come quickly!”
Connor held up a hand, exuding the calm of a man used to her demonstrative announcements. “Slow down. Take a deep breath. Okay?”
Bethany hummed an exhalation and hoped that proved the composure he requested. “Okay,” she replied, using his vernacular.
Connor nodded. “What did you see?”
“Some big metal thing from the outside world. I think it’s a machine. It’s not like anything we have in the Land.”
“A big metal thing? Does it look like the space debris we found last year?”
“No.” She caught her breath, but her pulse was still pounding in her ears. “It’s old and rusted.”
“Out here?” Connor pointed east.
“No. Farther south—below the bluffs.”
“On the shore?”
“Yes, well, in the shallow caves below the bluffs. I went down there at low tide because I need potash to make the black glaze for all the orders I have at the pottery yard, and I went farther back into the clefs of the rock than I normally go and that’s where I saw it. It’s buried in the rock.” She bent to rub her aching calf muscle. “It’s in the sediment beneath the bluffs.”
“An old, rusted machine?”
“Yes, and it has a window and I think I saw bones inside it. Most of it is buried in the rock, but it’s huge whatever it is.”
“Keep your voice down.” Connor patted the air as if that would allay her. “Show me where it is, but be cool about it.”
“Cool?”
He nodded then glanced at the road when a wagon passed by. After waving at the driver, Connor put his hand on Bethany’s back and shepherded her toward the path to the beach. “Stay calm so you don’t raise suspicion. If it’s been there awhile, we aren’t in any danger. Right?”
“I guess not.”
“Right, so be cool.” He looked behind them as they stepped onto the path toward the shore. “How far is it?”
“About a mile.”
“A mile? What did you say you were doing down there?”
“I went at low tide to the caves where Mrs. Vestal and I get the minerals we use in pottery recipes, but the waves must have eroded more of the bluff since last time I was there. I couldn’t find potash in our normal spot, so I went back into the caves a bit and that’s when I saw it—”
“The machine with a window and bones inside it?”
“Right.” Bethany stayed on the hard packed sand as she and Connor walked along the shore below the bluffs. The roar of the waves echoed off the rock, making it sound as though the ocean were on both sides of her. With the tide still out, the shallow caves and murky pools below the rocky cliff face made her feel small. If they were trapped there when the tide came back in, they would be caught in the current and swept out to sea—just like Luke and Walter had been. The three-year-old memory made the skin along her spine crawl as she looked out at the waves. “It won’t be long until the tide turns.”
Connor glanced at her. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Bethany mustered a grin, grateful for his reassurance. As she walked close to the rocks, an eerie feeling made her belly sink. She wanted to turn back and run home. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and kept walking.
Connor’s brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”
Bethany couldn’t answer. She bent to pick up the pail and trowel she had dropped in her panicked flight when she first saw the machine. Then she pointed at the dark clef behind a section of coppery brown rock. “It’s in there.”
She stayed back while Connor walked between the walls of jagged rock. He wiped away sand, exposing more of the window and rusted metal. “Whoa!” He smiled as he glanced back at her. “Yep, you found a skeleton.” He reached out for her trowel. Gripping the tool with both hands, he scraped along the metal of the machine. “This plane is called a Hellcat—”
“A what?”
“No, wait,” he retracted his assessment as he chipped away more flaky sediment. “It’s a Wildcat. See the wing would have been up here—higher than the Hellcat—but the wing is missing.”
“The wing?” Bethany stepped closer. “That machine is an airplane?”
“Yeah, it’s an old fighter plane from the Second World War.”
“How many have there been?”
“World Wars?”
“Yes.”
“Including the current war—three. I taught about that in history last year, remember?” He kicked sand away from the bottom of the airplane and pointed to a faded insignia on the metal. “Looks like it was Royal Navy. What was a Martlet doing way out here?” He curved his hand and peered through t
he window. “The pilot is still wearing his helmet. Wow, look at those old gauges and the radio. He’s got a portable transmitter in there. Man, I would love to know his story. What a relic!” Connor’s voice was muffled against the glass. He pulled away. “Do you want to take a look?”
“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
When he only wiggled his eyebrows, Bethany touched the window and looked inside the darkened capsule. In front of the skeletal remains of the pilot was a panel indented with several circular instruments. A black rod protruded between the pilot’s knees. Crusted straps covered his decayed clothing remnants. Her stomach lurched when she saw the curve of his neck bones. She backed away. “How long do you think he’s been here?”
Connor put his hands on his hips and glanced around the rock. “These airplanes were retired in nineteen forty-five, so at least eighty years. He must have crashed into the ocean and floated here. The wings are gone, at least the one on this side. Somehow, the fuselage remained intact and was washed into the cave. The sediment helped seal him in.” Connor looked back at the sea then motioned to her pail. “Did you get your soil?”
“Hm?”
“The minerals you needed for the pottery?”
“No.”
He handed her back the trowel. “Go dig some up before the tide comes back. We’ll have to get out of here soon.”
Bethany stepped around the shallow pools of water that were fed by the runoff from the bluffs above. The minerals from the decayed vegetation would provide the potash she needed. Connor stayed by the old airplane and looked in its window while she stepped into an open cave and bent to the ground. She glanced over her shoulder continually, unable to focus on the soil. After only gathering one scoop, she picked up her pail and hurried back. “What are you going to do with the airplane… and with the pilot?”
Connor was still staring in the airplane’s window. “I would like to remove the window and get inside the cockpit, but the tide will come in soon. He is sealed in there really well, so I don’t want to open it until I’m prepared to get everything out and take it to higher ground. I’ll have to come back with Levi—maybe tomorrow. We’ll bury the pilot’s remains, of course, but we may leave the aircraft here. It hasn’t hurt anything by being here all these years, but I don’t want people down here.” Connor brushed the dirt off his hands and ushered her away from the rocks. “Listen, Beth, you have to keep this to yourself.”
The find was unsettling, but it didn’t seem like something to keep secret like a hurtful indiscretion or a sinful longing. She glanced back at the yellowed glass of the window and shuddered, knowing a dead man was inside. “Why can’t I tell anyone?”
Connor took the pail and carried it for her. “We don’t want kids playing on it and getting hurt or curious villagers getting trapped here when the tide comes in. Plus, there may be weapons onboard or equipment that could put the Land at risk.”
“Can I tell Father?”
“I’ll tell him.”
“What about Lydia?”
“Let me decide who to tell. Okay?”
As they reached the grass that mingled in the loose white sand, Bethany looked back at the bluffs and the wreckage, which was now obscured by the crenulated rocks. No one ever went there but her. No one would know about the old airplane, except whomever Connor chose to tell. She could trust him. “Okay,” she whispered as she turned her face toward home.
* * *
Bethany flinched when sparks popped out of the settling bonfire. She chuckled at herself, then she moved her legs away from the log she was sitting on and buried her feet in the powdery sand. The breaking waves hummed on the shore behind her, lulling her back into her reverie. She reached down and traced the outline of her feet in the sand.
Everett Foster was whistling a melody Bethany did not recognize as he came out of the forest near the historic cairn. He carried an armload of broken branches to their dwindling fire. His dark hair swooped across his forehead. He immediately flipped it out of his eyes and smiled at her. “We can’t let the fire die this early on our last night of summer.”
Connor skipped a clamshell across the shallows as he walked toward the bonfire and sat beside Lydia on the far end of the group’s log bench. The makeshift seat moved beneath Bethany. Connor leaned his elbows onto his knees and grinned. “How come I’m the only one who has school tomorrow?”
“Because you are the teacher,” Lydia answered as she rested her head on Connor’s shoulder. She yawned. “I should go home and check on the baby.”
“You just want to go to bed.” Connor rubbed Lydia’s back. “Don’t worry about the baby; Andrew is fine with his grandpa.”
A quiet but ever-present yearning kept Bethany staring at her sister and brother-in-law. Firelight warmed their contours as Lydia twined her finger in the edge of Connor’s shirt and he kissed the top of her head. And in one heartbeat, beneath the stars and the oval moon, Bethany decided all of life’s happiness hinged on being loved by a man like Connor.
While Everett fed the fire, Levi and Mandy sat on the other end of the log. They nestled close to one another. Levi sighed with contentment as Mandy tucked herself against his chest. Then he looked past Bethany and said to Connor, “Tell us one of your stories.”
“You just want him to frighten me,” Mandy protested weakly. She twirled a strand of auburn hair and winked at Bethany.
“Maybe I do.” Levi smiled down at Mandy. As they started to kiss, Bethany forced herself to politely look away from her brother and his wife.
Everett prodded the fire with the last stick from his bundle. The flames licked at the fresh kindling and danced into crisp peaks of orange light. He held onto his poker stick as he backed away from the crackling fire. Then he motioned to the slice of empty space on the log beside Bethany. “Scoot down a bit, Beth.”
She moved closer to Lydia to make room for Everett. The log bench dropped a degree as he sat beside her. She liked being close to him. She felt safe and loved beside him, but not in the way Connor loved Lydia or the way Levi loved Mandy. She glanced at Everett. “What was that tune you were whistling?”
“Just a new song I’ve been working on.” He put his arm behind her. While they waited for Connor to tell one of his scary stories from the outside world, Bethany leaned into Everett’s side and wondered if Connor had told Lydia or Levi about the old airplane yet.
“Have you heard the one about the couple who went out on a date one night?” Connor shifted toward the group. No one replied. Of course they hadn’t. “While the guy was driving his date around town in his car, they were listening to music on the car radio. Between songs, a news bulletin came on the radio about a vicious murderer who had escaped from prison. The reporter said the murderer was a psychopath that slashed his victims to pieces and he could be easily identified because instead of a right hand he had a rusty hook—the very hook he used to kill his victims.” Connor held up his forearm and curled his fingers for effect. “When the girl heard the report, she scooted close to the guy because she was scared, but he got the wrong idea and decided to drive out to the country. As soon as they got out of town, he pulled the car over in the woods. He turned off the car engine and moved close to her when suddenly there was a loud scratching sound on the back of the car. Screech! Then again—screech! Over and over.” Connor gestured a hook-hand scratching at the air while he spoke. Bethany’s mouth dropped open as she listened. She promptly closed it and looked at the fire, trying to think of something else. She imagined a carriage without horses and music coming from something called a radio. As she began to ponder an unmarried man and woman alone at night in the woods, the fright of the possible murder dissipated. She wondered what it would be like to be alone with a man, what it was like to ride in a car, and what happened to the murderer’s hand that made him need a hook.
Connor continued, “So the guy tried to start the car’s engine to leave, but it wouldn’t start. The girl started screaming as the scratching sound got louder and clo
ser to her door. Finally, the car started and he drove away. But then something started rattling outside the car door, so he put the pedal to the floor and drove a hundred miles an hour back to town. When they made it to her house, they got out of the car and there—hanging from the car’s door handle—was a rusty hook!”
Mandy squealed and buried her face into Levi’s chest. Levi grinned and nodded once at Connor. Lydia sat up straight and pressed a palm against her middle. “Connor, that was a terrible story!”
He beamed. “It scared you, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” She gave him a sour look and he snickered.
Mandy leaned forward and pointed at Bethany. “Connor, look what you’ve done: Bethany is scared silent.”
“No, I’m not.” Bethany imagined the couple’s date, a man with a missing hand who was now missing his hook, and the inscrutable details of life outside the Land. She looked at Connor. “So what happened next? Did the man get his hook back?”
Connor laughed, but he gave no reply. Mandy covered her mouth with four thin fingers while she giggled at Bethany’s question. Levi groaned. “That isn’t the point, Beth.”
Bethany sensed their arcane knowledge made the story more entertaining for them than for her. She glanced at their faces and grinned—not out of delight but out of embarrassment. “So what is the point?”
Her bewilderment amused her siblings and their spouses. While their laughter rang above the sound of the waves, she looked at Everett. He did not laugh with them but simply tilted his head toward her. “Don’t worry about it, Beth,” he whispered as he gave her side a soft nudge. She nudged him back and returned her gaze to the fire.
* * *
The dawn’s light gave the grassless pottery yard a pink tint, making Bethany hopeful the morning would warm quickly. She carefully closed the tricky latch on the pottery yard’s gate to avoid pinching her fingers. Mrs. Vestal lumbered out of the thatch-roofed shelter. “The clay is too cold this morning.”
Uncharted Inheritance (The Uncharted Series Book 3) Page 1
