The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel (6 page)

Claire thought a moment and shook her head. “No. The name is not familiar. Believe me I’d know if someone new had come to the cove.” She winked to make her point clear.

Sam found it hard to swallow that Claire, an obvious busy body, had never heard of Aidan. What was the harm in admitting she knew him?

“Feel free to join us if your friend doesn’t show up,” Claire said before returning to her own table.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam decided to call it a night. It had become embarrassing, sitting alone and not ordering, with more patrons coming in and gawking at her. She doubted they intended on making her feel self-conscious, but the result was the same. “I’ll take the check for my tea,” she told the waitress after flagging her down. All she wanted was to get out of the restaurant in a hurry.

As she stood and pushed in her chair, Claire and Jason sidled up next to her. “Tired of waiting?” Claire asked.

Sam nodded and forced a weak smile to her lips.

“Come see me next time you’re in the village,” Claire said, patting her arm. “We can share some girl talk. Jay is a good boy, but he’s not much of a conversationalist, as you might have noticed.”

Jason shoved his hands into his pants pockets and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll do that,” Samantha said. As the pair walked away, her gaze landed on Jason’s leg again. Curious, she caught up with them as Claire paid her bill. “I see your leg healed fast. Have you got some sort of magic cream you rubbed on it? I could use some on my arm from when a big dog jumped on me today.”

His head tilted. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“You were limping today on your right leg. I thought you’d hurt it, but you’re walking fine tonight.”

“I wasn’t limping today. There’s nothing wrong with my leg.” His brow furrowed and his lips formed a pout, as if he thought he was being accused of doing something wrong.

“But I saw you…” Sam’s voice trailed off when Claire stepped up and swung Jason around by the arm. “Goodbye, Samantha. See you soon. Let’s go, son.”

He craned his neck over his shoulder and stared as his mother led him out the door.

That was peculiar. He’d definitely been limping today. Why would he lie?
Sam shook her head, dismissing the odd pair.

After Marianne, the hostess, rang up her bill, Samantha said, “I apologize for sounding intrusive, but the friend who was supposed to meet me here tonight is someone I think you know. His name is Aidan Gallagher. He told me he comes here so often that you and him are on a first-name basis.”

The young woman didn’t hesitate with her response. “Sorry, but I’ve never heard of him.”

A prickly feeling niggled beneath Samantha’s goose-fleshed skin. “Are you sure? He’s around my age, about five foot eleven, very handsome with dark hair he wears in a ponytail, and he has the most amazing hazel eyes. He’s an artist. A painter.”

Marianne’s head wagged back and forth. “No. We get a lot of painters coming to the cove, but I’ve never seen anyone like that in here. If I had, I’d remember. He sounds like a hunk.”

A frosty chill slithered down Samantha’s spine. “Please, think hard. It’s very important. He has a dog he calls Paddy. He paints seascapes on the beach, and he’s Irish. Surely there aren’t too many people around her who fit that description.”

A bell jingled and both Sam and Marianne glanced at the front door to watch an older couple enter.

“I’m certain I don’t know anyone by that name or description, ma’am,” Marianne said. She grabbed menus from behind her podium. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Samantha left the restaurant more confused than ever. Why weren’t these people admitting they knew Aidan? And why didn’t he show up tonight? She climbed into her car and slammed the door. The temperature in her was rising by the second. What was wrong with these people? They weren’t necessarily rude, but something seemed off kilter. And where was Aidan?

With the window down and a breeze blowing her hair around, she drove back to the lighthouse and used the antique key to unlock the door with fumbling fingers. Sinking into the cushions of the comfy sofa, she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

“I need to talk to someone who can assure me I’m not going mad,” she said out loud. Snatching her cell phone out of her purse, she punched in Linda’s number and tapped her foot while she waited for her to answer. One ring. Two. Three. Four rings and it went to voice mail.

“Hey, this is Antonio. You know the drill. Ciao!”

Sam stared at her phone. “Antonio? I must have done something wrong.” She tried again and got the same message.

“What?” When rechecking the number in her contact list, she saw the number for Linda was correct, as she knew it would be. “The signal must be screwed up out here. The lines must have gotten crossed.” Disgusted, she flipped her cell phone shut and tossed it on the other end of the sofa.

After a few moments of mentally regurgitating all that had taken place that day, she kicked off her sandals and padded into the kitchen, soon realizing she had no appetite. “So much for my first day in Pavee Cove,” she sighed as she slunk up the staircase to the bedroom.

After changing out of her dress and into shorts and a t-shirt, she remembered she’d planned to see if the lamp in the tower worked tonight. Pushing down the same unease she’d felt that morning, she forced her feet to move up the stairs. At the top, she flipped the switch at the door and was blinded by brilliant white light. Shading her eyes, she descended the stairs, pleased that the beacon hadn’t disappointed her, too. Anxious to see what it looked like from outside, she exited the lighthouse and walked about fifty feet barefoot through the sand before turning around.

The sight before her sent her heart soaring into her throat. The lighthouse was breathtaking, bathed in light. She stood captivated, imagining the sailors and sea captains of yesteryear who had depended on that light to guide them home safely to their loved ones.

The beacon cast its ray upon the ocean, causing the ripples to shimmer like jewels. Deciding she needed to rid herself of her melancholy mood before she sunk into despair, Samantha strolled to the water’s edge ready to plunge her feet into the cold water. She noticed some objects stuck in the sand a few feet to her right.

Her mind careened back to earlier that morning when she’d seen the little girl. She didn’t remember whether the child had been wearing shoes or sandals, or had been barefoot. Thinking she was drowning had distracted Sam from anything else. Squinting now, what she saw in the sand could be small sandals, but hopefully it was trash washed up with seaweed.

With her breath locked deep inside her chest, she splashed through the water and knelt. The air rushed out of her when she realized the objects were her own sandals sticking in the wet sand. It was hard to believe they hadn’t been swept out to sea by now. She’d left them behind when stalking away, but if Aidan had noticed them, why had he left them in the sand? Yanking them out, she hugged them close to her chest; thankful they weren’t a child’s sandals and glad to be touching something she knew to be real.

Back at the lighthouse, the bedside clock read eight o’clock. It was still too early to retire, but every nerve in her body screamed with exhaustion.

Just as she prepared to crawl into bed, Sam felt an invisible tug at her waist. The spyglass seemed to call to her. Gliding to the dresser, she opened the lid to the wooden box. Gently, she removed the telescope and lifted it to her eye, oscillating it around the room. Once again, blue mist wafted across the lens before the bed and dresser magnified into giant-sized furniture.

Whoa! She jerked the instrument away from her eye. That was too much. Indoors, the spyglass made everything look 3D and caused her to feel light-headed. Obviously, the purpose of it was to amplify the landscape and seascape, not furniture.

When it was stowed safely in its box once more, she closed the lid and climbed between cool sheets and listened to the waves crashing outside. Before long her eyelids grew heavy, and her body went limp. Even though the day had been disconcerting in more ways than one, a small smile played across her lips. For the first time in three months, she thought her dreams might not turn into a nightmare.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning, sunshine streamed through the small bedroom window to wake Samantha. Rubbing her knuckles over her eyes, she flipped onto her side and read the time on the clock—nine a.m. Impossible. She’d never slept this late in her adult life. Rolling onto her back again, she stretched and yawned, realizing she’d slept through the entire night without nightmares. And she wasn’t drenched in sweat either.

She’d never forget Chad, and she’d visit him in the hospital as long as he lived. But Dr. Teagan had been right. She had to free herself from guilt and move on with her life. Chad would want that for her, and Pavee Cove seemed to be a new beginning, despite the weird start yesterday.

Softly moaning, her eyelids fluttered shut and bits and pieces of the dream she’d been having before she woke reemerged, causing her body to reignite with sensual sensations.

She’d been laying in the sand with a man’s body pressed close. He’d held her in his arms and kissed her. When she returned the heat of his kiss, a wave crashed over them causing them to break their embrace. Her body floated out to sea on a crest and past the reef as Aidan waved from the shore, calling out that he promised to find her someday.

Bolting up, Samantha swung her legs out of bed and shook her lion’s mane of hair to chase away the image that had caused a physical arousal. “Aidan? Why would I dream about a man who stood me up?” she grumbled while grabbing a ponytail band from the bedside dresser.

Yanking her hair into her usual style, she was unable to forget the humiliation she’d felt last night sitting at the table alone constantly checking her watch and the door. She’d felt as though everyone in the restaurant had been staring at her, pitying her for the obvious—having been stood up. But she wasn’t going to let the incident rattle her. It was his loss, as Linda would say. Sam was used to protecting her heart like a shield anyway.

While stretching her arms above her head, she slipped downstairs and poured a glass of juice from the fridge, determined to make a fresh start today. No way would she let Aidan get under her skin. His stunt only proved, once again, that you got hustled when you let down your guard.

Ravenous from not eating last night, she popped a slice of bread into the toaster and poured dry cereal into a bowl. The groceries Jason had brought also included fresh fruit, so she sliced a banana over the cereal and heated some sausage links in the microwave.

It was a rare occasion for her to sit down and eat breakfast. Most of her morning meals consisted of a granola bar on the run. It was easy to see how eating a balanced meal, while listening to the sound of the ocean and seagulls squawking outside, could be stress reducers.

In Portland, she’d go home every day with her ears ringing from the noises of banging hammers, squealing electric saws, the ripping and shredding of walls, and cabinets being demolished. Although construction had been her life for ten years, it was funny how much she didn’t miss it.

It was amazing what proper nutrition and a restful sleep could do for a body. After showering and dressing in shorts and a tank top, she stuck her feet into tennis shoes feeling energized and on top of the world. She wanted to walk the beach first thing every morning, for as long as she was there. The ocean called her name, and she felt driven to spend as much time as possible near it, on it, or in it. Just not the way she ended up in it yesterday. That experience was still baffling, but one she chose not to dwell on.

She’d just slipped her cell phone into the back pocket of her shorts when someone knocked on the door. Mumbling under her breath, she prayed it wasn’t Jason again, or Claire checking up on her. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish’s when she opened the door to Aidan.

“Good morning, Samantha.”

Her gaze swept from his eyes to his five o’clock shadow and up and down his brawny physique. It wasn’t the first time she noticed how good looking he was, with that well-built body and striking smile. Although she’d never let on, she’d not only admired Chad’s personality but his physicality as well.

Comparing Aidan to Chad made her cringe inside, but she still couldn’t get over their similarities. However, if she was to truly let Chad go, she had to stop comparing them, no matter how alike they were. The sensual dream that featured Aidan flashed through her mind again, causing an uncontrollable tingling to course through her body, which annoyed her.

“Hello, Aidan.” She huffed coolly and folded her arms beneath her breast. He had a lot of nerve showing his face this morning after having stood her up last night.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you.” She waited, tapping her foot on the floor, for an apology.

“I see you turned the light on in the tower.”

Darn. She’d forgotten to flip it off this morning. She’d have to remember to do that before she headed out for her walk. “Yes. I wanted to see if it still worked.”

“It works fine. I was on the beach around eight o’clock last night and was surprised to see it on. It looked beautiful.”

Eight o’clock? He was here and didn’t bother to see if she was home and explain why he hadn’t shown at the restaurant? That annoyed her even further.

 “It was my first time to see it on,” he added, “since no one’s been in the lighthouse until now.” A melt-your-heart kind of grin emanated from his face.

What was with him? Was he one of those men who couldn’t admit when he’d done something wrong and counted on a sexy smile to make things right? Little did he know she wasn’t someone who could be easily manipulated, charming, or not.

He’d apologized when Paddy had jumped on her. Why didn’t he just say he was sorry for standing her up, give some lame excuse, and they could move on? The high she’d felt moments ago swiftly took a nosedive. With all the aloofness she could muster, she asked, “Was everything all right with you last night? Is Paddy okay? I hope neither of you were hurt or sick.”