The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel (23 page)

“Sure.” Samantha retrieved the ice cream. Claire definitely was stalling for time. “Do you remember someone living there?” she repeated.

“It’s possible,” Claire finally answered. “A lot of people came and went in those days. Many were Irish, moving around trying to earn a living.”

Samantha remembered Daniel telling her about the Irish travelers who had come off of Eamon McBride’s ship and settled in Pavee Cove, thus giving it its name. She was about to ask Claire what more she knew about the clan when Jason swooped into the kitchen and interrupted the conversation.

“I love peach pie. Do you like peach pie, Sam?” He happily took his place at the table like nothing had happened. Claire sliced three pieces of pie and Samantha dipped the ice cream onto plates.

“Yes, peach is a favorite of mine.”

“Mine, too!” he said with bright eyes.

Feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, but not wanting to stir the pot further and risk upsetting Jason again, Sam halted her interrogation. For the rest of the evening, she tried to relax and enjoy Claire’s humorous stories about the things she’s seen and heard while running a small town market.

“Thank you for dinner and the lively conversation,” she said, hugging Claire good night when the evening came to a close. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with my questions earlier.”

“Of course not. Let’s do this again soon.”

“I’d like that.” She had many more questions to ask and planned on running into Claire sooner than she might expect.

As Claire walked her to the mudroom, they could hear rain pounding the metal roof. “It’s still coming down like cats and dogs. Jay, make sure you drive—”

“I know, Mom. I’ll drive defensively and get Sam home in one piece.” He grabbed his cap off the hook.

“Get yourself home in one piece as well,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Samantha and Claire shared a grin. She waved goodbye and followed Jason through the breezeway and into the garage. Knowing better than to speak while he was driving in the rain, she remained mute all the way until he parked in the lot outside the lighthouse.

“Thanks for the lift. And I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier this evening.”

“No problem.”

With the still-damp umbrella between her legs ready to be opened, her hand wavered over the door handle. Twisting in the seat, she said, “What does Remy Gallagher look like?”

The question seemed to take Jason off guard. “She’s very pretty. Like you.”

“That’s nice of you to say. Go on.”

“Her eyes are blue and twinkly like stars, and she’s almost as tall as Aidan. About the same height as you, I guess.”

She sickeningly needed to know about the woman she considered her competition. “What else can you tell me?”

He thought a minute. “She has long hair. Like yours.”

“What color?” She hoped Remy wasn’t a blonde, too. That would be too much to handle. She already sounded like a clone. Aidan apparently went for one certain type of woman.

“Light brown,” he answered. “Her hair is the same color as Dylan’s.”

“Who’s Dylan?” The moment the words slipped from her mouth, Samantha knew. Dylan was Aidan’s child—the little boy she’d seen at the cottage.

“He’s their little boy. I’m his godfather. Dylan is the best kid ever.”

“Oh.” Sam’s chest tightened like a vice. It felt like her lungs were going to burst. “I’d better let you go or you mom will worry. Thanks again for the ride.” The truck door squeaked open and she unleashed the umbrella and made a beeline up the walk. When she reached the door, she was too distracted to turn and wave goodbye.

Standing in the doorway, she watched the dissipating rain melt into a drizzle. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, moving down the coast and sending the storm on its way. Within a matter of moments, the rain had completely stopped.

She got her key out to unlock the door and then changed her mind. Too anxious to simply go inside and sleep, she slipped off her shoes and trudged around the corner through the wet sand. A walk in the cool night air might help clear her mind. There were so many questions swirling through it.

The sand squished between her toes as she strolled down the beach with her purse swinging at her side. Why had she’d visualized herself at the white cottage as a child? Who really was the woman she’d seen in the window? Why, on the first day of arriving at the lighthouse, had she felt she’d been there before? Why couldn’t she remember her mother giving her the cross necklace? How come Aidan had painted all those portraits of her? Where was the little blonde girl? Who did she belong to? Had Aidan wanted to look through the spyglass in order to change what had happened to Jason when they were kids?

Her head began to pound. She sniffled and wondered if she’d ever have answers for all the questions. Maybe her finding the spyglass had been a fluke—another coincidence. But she didn’t think so.

The most important question of all was the most difficult to reconcile. Why had she met Aidan and fallen in love, only to lose him to another woman and child?

CHAPTER THIRTY

She hadn’t noticed the direction she’d been heading until she reached the stand of trees near Aidan’s cottage. The breath caught in her throat as she found her feet advancing toward the house.

Unable to stop herself, she crept closer and saw that Aidan’s pickup truck was not parked in the driveway. That probably meant he and his family were out. The lights were off in the cottage, except for porch lights at both the front and back doors. Seemed a good indication that no one was home.

As if she’d ascended into a dream, she practically floated to the back door and placed her hand on the doorknob. The door was unlocked. When she pushed gently, it opened to silently welcome her. With her heart thundering inside her chest, she took a step inside.

A prickly feeling caused the hairs on her neck to stand on end. Knowing she shouldn’t trespass, she’d already done it once before and was powerless to stop this time either. A voice inside her head prodded her forward. A sharp pain stabbed at her stomach as she took another step, while something deep inside hinted that it was now or never. This was the only way to get to the bottom of many of her questions. Aidan, or something in this house, held the key to her past, present and future.

With blood pounding in her ears, she dug into her purse for the pen-head flashlight she carried with her and flicked it on. There were no sounds in the house aside from her shallow breathing and the ticking of a clock somewhere inside. No one was there, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t arrive at any moment.

Though she was curious as to whether the dozens of portraits of her were still hanging in the studio, an invisible driving force guided her straight to Aidan’s bedroom. With the flashlight pointing the way, she entered and sent the narrow beam of light around the room. It had not changed since she’d been here last. A woman’s touch still lingered, as did her sweet perfume.

Like the whisper of the wind, she heard the words
jewelry box
tickle her ear. Her flashlight swung to the tall chest of drawers along one wall. As her eyes adjusted to the shadows dancing around the dim room, she glimpsed a gold-plated box sitting on the dresser top, front and center.

“I have to look,” she whispered aloud. “I’ve come this far. I can’t leave without knowing what’s inside.” The wooden floorboards squeaked under her bare feet as she moved over them. With the pen light in her left hand and trained on the box, and the fingers of her right hand trembling, she opened the lid.

A mirror attached to the inside of the lid reflected Sam’s ghostly pallor in the ray of light, causing her to jump.

Hurry
, the voice inside her beckoned.

Her ragged breathing shattered the quiet as she plunged her hand into the box and hurriedly rummaged through the jewelry. Many pairs of earrings for pierced ears littered the bottom like seashells on the sand. Her eyes skimmed over a diamond tennis bracelet, an ankle bracelet and some costume pieces, including an old fashioned broach. There were some inexpensive rings and necklaces, but nothing of much value.

This only told her that a woman still lived here. She closed the lid. Unsure of what she was looking for in the cottage, a sensation propelled her to keep searching.

Hurry
, the voice in her ear repeated.

As she exited the room, the beam of the pen-head flashlight glinted onto the wall next to the door. Hanging there was one of Aidan’s works of art. It was an oil painting on canvas. How could she not have noticed it yesterday when she was in this room? Bright blue eyes set in a cherubic face gazed back at her. She stepped closer, pointed the light on the face, and gulped down her shock.

Staring back at her was the little blonde girl from the beach. The girl she’d watched wade into the ocean and had sworn she’d seen in Aidan’s seascape painting on the day they met. She was the same child who had swiped candy from the jar at Murphy’s Market, and whom Samantha had seen running into a field toward the two boys.

She felt the color fade from her face as she stared more intently. Why hadn’t she seen the resemblance before? How could she have
not
seen it? Her legs felt like they were going to collapse under her as she considered the implications of this newest twist.

Gnawing at her lip, she drew even closer and touched the portrait with the tips of her fingers. Six year-old Samantha Landers, with the cornflower blue eyes and yellow hair in a ponytail, smiled back at her.

Feeling faint, Sam stumbled down the hall and slipped out the back door, barely remembering to close it behind her. Grasping her purse tight in her hand, she ran across Aidan’s yard and leaned against a tree trunk when she heard tires crunching over the gravel next to the house. The lights from the vehicle pointed toward the stand of trees.

Holding her breath, she dove to her knees and fell flat on her stomach, not moving a muscle.

The truck door opened and Aidan called, “Someone out there?”

Closing her eyes, she kept as still as a mouse. After a long drawn-out moment, the truck door slammed and the lights went off. It wasn’t until she heard the distinct sound of the cottage door opening and closing that she struggled to her feet and made her way back to the lighthouse.

Once inside, she sunk into a chair and her hand went to the necklace around her throat. The moment her finger touched the gold metal, a feeling of transformation washed over her. Peace like she’d never known seeped into her bones and flowed out to all the cells of her body. She closed her eyes.

Although she’d loved her mother, something had been missing in their relationship. All her life, Samantha had tried to figure out why they hadn’t been closer. Theirs had been a battle of strong wills ever since she was a child. But it had been more than typical mother-daughter conflict that had kept them apart, even up to her mom’s last day on earth.

Ever secretive about Sam’s father, Bev had gone to her grave withholding his name. Through the years, Sam had begged her to share something—anything—about him, but to no avail. She’d tried one final time when her mom was sick and dying. Still, Bev had refused. A lifetime of questions about her parentage had already caused such a gulf between them, but this blatant disregard for her right to know was something Sam found difficult to forgive.

When she’d buried her mom, all hope for knowing her father had been buried with her, along with Samantha’s ability to trust in anyone. Her heart had been torn in half by the father who had apparently abandoned her, but the hole had grown bigger each time her mother refused to talk about the past.

The only defense to not becoming angry and bitter had been to build a bulwark against her emotions.
Protect yourself
had been her motto for as long as she could remember.
Do not give your heart away. Do not get close to anyone. Take care of yourself and you won’t be let down.
So far, it had worked pretty well.

As she fingered the necklace delicately, she realized that wearing it made her feel secure and happy, which was strange. Security and complete happiness had been lacking in her life and weren’t things she associated with Mom.

She leaned her head back and another mental picture rolled through her mind. In the same way the daydreams had worked before, she saw the scene as if it was happening right then.

Mama pulled her up the stairs by the arm. It didn’t hurt, but she was scared all the same. People were after them. The two of them crouched together making themselves very small. “Shhh.” Mama whispered. “Stay quiet, baby.” Mama touched her finger to her lips, kissed it, and then touched her finger to the gold cross hanging around her neck. She grasped Samantha’s small hand. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Huddled next to her soft body, Sam felt Mama shake. When she gazed into Mama’s face, the most terrible feeling engulfed her. She didn’t understand what was happening, but it was something bad.

Samantha’s eyes popped open. Perspiration lined her brow. Her whole body quaked. She’d just seen what must have been a repressed memory from her childhood. But when she’d looked into her mother’s face in the vision, it hadn’t been Bev’s face at all. It was the angelic face of another woman who looked vaguely familiar.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Jumping up from the chair, she paced around the room like a caged lion. Whose face had she just seen in her mind’s eye? The features had been hazy and unclear, but she felt with a certainty that the face did not belong to her mother. Bev’s dark hair had always been short. Her brown eyes, thick eyebrows and olive complexion had hinted of Mediterranean ancestry. As a child, Samantha had often wondered why they looked nothing alike, but she’d always figured she took after her mysterious, absent father.

She squeezed her eyes shut again and tried to recall the woman’s face once more. She was young with long, soft hair the color of wheat and expressive eyes that were the color of the sea during a storm. Full lips, long eyelashes, and a slender nose with a sprinkling of freckles dotted her ivory cheeks. All were characteristics of a physically lovely woman.