Becky pushed open her bedroom door and waved me quickly inside. Aside from the early century four post bed and expensive looking rug, the room was very much ‘pre-adolescent’ girl. I was surprised but pleased to find that while the rest of the house looked rather pompous and sterile, Katherine had allowed Becky some freedom of expression and individuality in her bedroom.
We walked past the doll collection, a group of porcelain beauties that were worth too much to play with, which Becky had confessed she was happy about because she ‘hated dolls’. She walked to her closet, a room that was larger and more spacious than an average apartment. The door to the closet was covered in two conflicting posters, the iconic Ramones poster and an equally iconic Spongebob Squarepants poster, proof positive that my new pupil still had one foot stuck in childhood, while the other was making its way over the fence to the teen years.
I followed Becky past the hanging clothes to a set of drawers. She knelt down and reached for the brass knob, but stopped before opening it. A proud grin was etched on her face but then she looked up at me with a straight mouth and serious brows. “You can’t tell anyone about this. The only other person who knows about the stuff inside this drawer is James.”
It wasn’t a name I’d heard mentioned yet. “James? Is that one of the groundskeepers?”
She laughed. “No, silly. James is my brother.” Being a kid, she hadn’t noticed my surprise, and she was far too excited about the contents in the drawer to elaborate. I easily concluded that James must be a family member who’d decided remote island living wasn’t for him.
Becky’s face scrunched with concentration as she carefully lifted a bundle of something wrapped in an old pillowcase. She carefully unwrapped the items. Even though they appeared solid and sturdy, she treated them as if they were as fragile as eggshells.
After years of traveling the world with two archaeologists, I knew instantly I was looking at old artifacts and significant ones at that. I dropped onto my knees next to her as she handed me a two inch shard of cedar wood. Weather worn as it was, the traces of red and blue paint circling a carved eye were still visible. I turned it over in my palm as Becky handed me a second shard, smaller but still vivid with blue paint and the outline of a carved beak. “Where on earth did you find these?”
“On the island. That’s why you can’t tell my mom. She doesn’t like me to explore too far away from the house.” She tossed a tiny bone on my palm. “I’ve done some research in my dad’s library. He has this huge anatomy book that weighs more than me. Occasionally, I drag it from its shelf and stretch out on the floor with it. I think this is the bone of a deer. But can you see the pointed end?”
“Yes. It’s been carved into some kind of sharp tool,” I noted.
“You know your bones,” she said with smile.
“Not so much, but I do know something about primitive tools and this is definitely a fine example of one. Given the island’s position in the north Pacific, and given the style of art, on cedar, no less, I’d say Tlingit or some similar tribe.”
Her smiled broadened. “You know your ancient civilizations too. Which reminds me, what about the mummy’s curse?”
“Later.” I placed the wood shards and bone back on the pillow case. “I was going to wait to tell you until after you finished writing your personal narrative”—I pointed at her as she opened her mouth to protest—“five paragraphs,” I added.
She blew out a resolved sigh. It sent a ripple beneath her bangs.
“Anyhow, your mom has given us permission to have that slumber party in the television room this weekend.”
“Yippee!” She shot up to her knees and threw her arms around my neck.
“I’ll tell you the mummy’s curse story then, if you think you’re brave enough to hear it.”
“Oh, I’m brave enough. In fact, I might just tell a good ghost story too. If you’re brave enough to hear it.”
“Guess we’ll both have to bring our brave faces to the slumber party.” I helped her fold the items into the case and pushed to my feet. My gaze passed by a small school uniform. I pulled it out to look at it. “Was this yours, Becky?”
She glanced up as she closed the drawer. “Yes, when I was just a little tot, as you can see by the size of it. Not sure why but Mother didn’t want me to get rid of it. Sentimental, she said. Whatever the heck that means.”
“Maybe we need to beef up your vocabulary lessons.” I put the uniform back, and we headed out of the closet. “How long were you at the private school?”
“Just until second grade. Three years after Daddy died. I kept getting sick with asthma and bronchitis. That’s when Mother decided I would live a healthier life on the island. Wildthorne was our family vacation spot when Daddy was alive, but now it’s our home. I do miss my friends, but there’s a lot to do here.” She pointed back to her closet. “Like finding incredible artifacts. I’ve decided I want to be just like your parents some day. How come you aren’t with them right now?”
“Just got tired of moving around so much.”
“I don’t think I’d ever get tired of it.” Becky stopped to look at her hair in the mirror over her vanity. She had been working hard at making something that looked like a braid but she just didn’t have it down yet. “I look like that crazy book character with the twisty red braids—Pippi Longsocks or something like that.”
I picked up the brush from her vanity. “Here, let me show you how.” I started undoing her tangled braid. “It’s Pippi Longstocking, and if you haven’t read the books, you should. She’s very adventurous, like you. And she’s strong like a superhero. I loved reading about her because she always had a lot of pets.”
Becky looked at me in the mirror reflection. “Do you like animals?”
“Very much.”
“Do you have any pets back home?”
I pulled the brush through her shiny hair, and my throat tightened as I thought about the question. “I used to.” I went for a quick topic change. “So, is your asthma better, now that you’re on the island?”
“I think so. I definitely don’t get many colds anymore. That’s why Marcus stays with us, even though he’s old enough to live on his own like James. Marcus hates germs. Always has.”
“I noticed. I guess he’s lucky to have an island to live on.” I finished the braid.
Becky took a moment to admire it in the mirror. “Well done. You’re hired.”
“Thank you. Now, while I’m gone, you need to write five paragraphs about a personal story from your past. It’s just the rough draft. Then I’ll show you how to go back through and edit it for a final copy.”
“But what if I—” she began what was already her sixth attempt at avoiding the writing assignment.
“Five paragraphs or no slumber party and no mummy story.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll see you when I get back.”
I headed to my room for a sweatshirt. The shopping list was pinned to my door along with a note from Katherine to ask Marcus to walk me to the landing strip. She added that I could find him in the library, which was to the right at the bottom of the stairs.
I glanced in my own mirror and wasn’t impressed. I grabbed a lipstick and brushed it over my lips and pulled my hair back in a ponytail. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to groom for a ride in a bumpy four seat plane. I dismissed the moment as the fault of overactive self-consciousness. I felt as if my appearance had been heavily scrutinized since I’d landed in King’s Beach, and it was messing with my confidence. That was it, I insisted. I just wanted to look presentable as I passed through the manor. I assured myself it had nothing to do with the fact that I’d be sitting in an airplane just two feet away from the pilot, a man who was stunning even with a fat lip and cut chin.
I pushed the shopping list into my purse along with the money Katheri
ne had given me for the supplies. I headed downstairs and turned right. I was fairly certain I could find my way back to the airstrip on my own. My unorthodox childhood left me with far better navigational skills than most, but if Marcus was expecting to lead me there, I didn’t want to change the plans. And it might have been a way for Katherine to get him outside into fresh air, something, it seemed, he avoided. So far, I’d only run into Marcus at the breakfast table.
I’d never ventured right from the stairs and I had no idea there was a library. Of course, it made perfect sense in a stately old house like the manor. The library answered the mystery of where Marcus hid for most of the day. It seemed a lonely, overly quiet existence for a man in his twenties, but from the snippets of emotion he showed, it seemed he was satisfied with his life.
The smell of old books carried me to the correct door. It was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and poked my head inside not wanting to disturb him. Marcus’s usual ramrod straight posture had lost its steely integrity some as he hunched over a large mahogany table that was covered with tiny ship model parts. The pungent smell of glue filled the room, but he hadn’t thought to open any of the windows.
Marcus heard my first footfall and turned quickly around. He was wearing a white surgical mask. He yanked it down at the sight of me. It dropped around his neck. “It’s so that I don’t get high on glue fumes,” he explained hastily.
“Yes, of course. I don’t blame you. I’m feeling a little lightheaded just standing here.”
He pulled the mask off and dropped it onto the table as he stood from the chair. I walked closer but not too close or too fast. I sometimes worried that if I moved too abruptly or accidentally crossed into his personal space, he’d run like a frightened animal. There were so many complicated layers to Marcus’s personality. At times, he acted nervous and timid, and at other times, he seemed arrogant, almost severe and without an ounce of humor. It was a strange contradiction.
I stared down at the miniature tools and parts. “So intricate and confusing. It’s like the world’s most complicated jigsaw puzzle.”
He nodded. It always took him a few seconds to find words. “It is and yet, I find it relaxing.”
I smiled. “Relaxing? I’m tense just looking at all those teeny tiny parts. You must have nerves of steel and a steady hand. What ship is this?”
“The HMS Victory. Mother mentioned you needed me to show you the way to the runway.” It seemed as much as he wanted to talk about the ship model, he didn’t care much for me standing in front of his work table. He was anxious for us to leave.
“If you don’t mind showing me the way. I’m afraid I might get lost in the dense foliage.”
“It does need to be thinned out.”
I followed him to the door. He curled his foot around the edge to open it before ushering me through. I sensed his uneasiness as we passed through the entryway to the front door. The edge of a plastic glove was sticking out of his pocket, but it seemed he didn’t want to pull it out in front of me.
I moved past him and reached for the door handle. “These polished brass handles are so beautiful,” I said cheerily as I opened the door. He released the breath he’d been holding. My smile seemed to catch him off guard. “I firmly believe in returning the favor every once in awhile.” I waved my arm with a flourish. “After you, sir.”
He brushed past making sure that no part of his clothes touched me.
I’d already discovered a weather pattern on the island. Morning was clammy and cold with a gloom that could dampen anyone’s spirits, but by midday, a sharp turquoise sky threw its jubilant brilliance over the island, washing away the morning blues. Then, an hour or two before dinner, the sky grumbled and churned until, once again, the entire landscape was cast into gray shadows. The finale was a bone chilling fog that rolled in just before candles and fireplaces were lit. A new day would start the routine all over again.
“How are the lessons going? Becky can be a trial. She’s not big on academics.”
My laugh caught him as off guard as my earlier smile. “You show me a twelve-year-old who enjoys academics, and I’ll show you an elephant with wings.”
My comment made his mouth turn up in what I decided was a smile.
It seemed that once we’d left the clearing where the house and lawn sat, Marcus grew less and less comfortable with the surroundings. He grimaced as a rude fern slapped him in the face. I was sure he would throw up from the experience.
A loud buzz overhead signaled that the plane was approaching the runway.
“You know what, Marcus? I can follow the sound to the clearing at the end of this path. You go back home. I’m already feeling guilty for pulling you away from your project.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
His relief was so evident, I was sure he’d take off at a run just to get out from between the plants, but he turned and walked sedately back the way we’d come.
I turned back around and headed toward the sound of Tero’s engine. The screech of tires hitting the runway followed, and my stomach bubbled with nerves at the thought of seeing Dax again.
By the time I’d hiked my way through the plants, the little plane had landed and circled back to the start for another takeoff. It still looked flimsy and unsteady, reminding me of a plane on a carnival ride.
I reached the clearing and had to remind myself to breathe as the pilot’s door popped open. He was once again wearing that damn hat and that cocky smile and that face. That damn perfect face. He leaned against the plane and crossed his arms as he waited for me to finish my journey across the runway.
I stopped just a few feet short. His pale green eyes glittered beneath the shade of his hat. Nothing in my body seemed to be working right. My heart was racing. My pulse was pounding. My knees had forgotten how to stay steady, and my tongue was tangled, leaving me speechless.
Dax pushed off the plane. If smiles were given price tags, his would surely have been worth a million dollars.
I finally managed a few steps toward him. “Why are you smiling like the cat who just swallowed a big fat mouse?”
“Well, I was just pondering something.”
I peered up at him. The fresh scent of his soap tickled my nose. I wasn’t sure what brand he used, but it had quickly become my favorite. “Pondering? Sounds important.”
“I was just pondering—is it love at first sight if it happens every time I see the girl?”
Even in the cool, brisk air I could feel my face warm. I shook my head to show him I wasn’t falling for his line. I strode purposefully to the passenger door. He reached past me to open it.
“Well?” He was close enough that I could feel the heat of his body behind me. “I think that’s pretty philosophical and deep, don’t you?”
I climbed in and smiled down at him. “Yes. You are about as deep as a puddle after a ten second rainstorm.”
His laugh could have a million dollar price tag too. “Damn, I missed ya, Rabbit. Let’s get this dinosaur in the air.” He shut the door.
Chapter 6
Dax
I climbed into the cockpit and looked over at Kinley. She seemed to be going through a mental pep talk about the impending flight. It was cute as hell to watch as her brows knit together and then smoothed out. I hadn’t seen her since I’d dropped her off at the island, but everything about her, from her caramel colored silky hair to her intense blue gaze and button nose had become permanent fixtures in my mind, like indelible black ink on a pristine white notepad.
During the flight to the island, I’d decided I needed to steel myself by putting on my distant, non-caring attitude. It was something I’d perfected over the years to keep me from needing anyone and getting bogged down with connections and relationships. The last thing I needed was to fall for a woman and most especially one of Kath
erine’s recruits.
But my resolve had crumbled the moment Kinley stepped clear of the ferns and shrubs. I’d leaned against Tero to watch her walk toward me and all I could think was that Kinley was one of those people you wanted in your life. She was one of those people who could make your life richer and more meaningful just by having her near. It might have been the way she carried herself with a sort of spunky grace, like an ice skater with attitude. Or it might have been the way she seemed to always be smiling to herself as if she knew things, great things about the world that no one else knew. Or it might just have been her big blue eyes that could make you forget your fucking name. Whatever it was, it made me hate all this even more. She wasn’t meant to be on that island, sitting beneath the cold shadows and the conniving, watchful eye of Katherine Underwood.
Just as Kinley had on the first trip, once I got the plane leveled off, she relaxed.
“So, how do you like life with the Addams family? Is Lurch behaving himself?”
Her face popped my direction. “Are you an Addams family fan?” she asked, effectively ignoring my barb against the Underwoods. “I have every episode memorized line for line.”
“O.K. I do watch the show when it comes on television, but you take fandom to a whole new level.”
“That boast does sound a little kooky.” She laughed. “Just like them. When I was twelve we spent a year in this little village somewhere between Hungary and Romania. Our one room cottage had an old black and white television with the rabbit ear antennas. There was a funky little media station in the next village, and the person running the station was either a huge Addams Family fan or that was the only show they had at their fingertips because every night they played three shows back to back. The only other channel that came in was with some big, red cheeked man with a heavy British accent who cooked gourmet food while completely sloshed on wine. I complained about the fuzzy picture and the lack of channels. So naturally, my parents spent an annoying amount of time telling me about how when they were young there were only a few good channels and you had to walk four miles in the snow to change the channel and all that violin worthy stuff.”