A Lighthouse Secret, page 4
part #1 of Gulf Coast Getaway Book 2 Series
“I understand,” Ginny told him.
As soon as Hudson left, Reece pounced. “How does he like it here? Does he hate it? Is it way too laid back for him?”
“Whoa, tiger,” her sister joked. “He likes it, but Hudson’s used to having the world at his doorstep, so that’s been a learning curve. In the past he would eat out every night, but now he’s learning to cook.”
Reece’s eyes widened. “A lawyer learning to cook? What’s he made so far, ramen noodles?”
She wadded up her napkin and tossed it at her sister. “Very funny. No. He’s grilled hamburgers.” The three women exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. “What? Don’t hamburgers count as cooking?”
“They do, honey, they do. They count more than you know.”
“Yeah, first it’s burgers and before you know it, he’ll be making his own fancy mayonnaises.”
“Stop it, Reece,” Chandler scolded, knuckling tears of laughter from her eyes.
“A new life means big changes,” Ginny told them. “He loves you very much to have moved here.”
“I know.” Her voice and her gaze dropped. “He does.”
Reece and Ginny exchanged a look. It was her youngest who spoke. “What’s wrong? Why the long face?”
“It’s nothing.”
She wasn’t buying it. “It’s definitely not nothing. What’s going on, honey? You can tell us.”
Chandler raked her fingers through her hair and exhaled a loud sigh, slumping down onto her chair. “Everything was good until…until I started to think about Daddy and what he did to you.”
“Okay…what does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t think…it’s just that…how do I make sure that doesn’t happen to me?”
Her words were a sucker punch to the throat. “Oh. Well. I guess that I don’t know. Wait. Hudson loves you. Why are you thinking these things?”
“I shouldn’t be.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Reece agreed in a flinty voice. “What Daddy did happened to Mama, not you.”
“I know. It’s true.” She slowly lifted her gaze to meet Ginny’s, and pain filled her eyes. “It’s just that I can’t help wondering if that’s in my future, too.”
She yearned to tell her daughter that of course history wouldn’t repeat itself, that what had happened to her would never happen to Chandler. But how could she make a promise that wasn’t hers to keep? Yet the pain and worry in her daughter’s eyes were real, and both needed to be tended. If they weren’t, the worry would only fester and become worse.
“No one knows what the future holds,” she said slowly, trying to quickly pluck the best word choice from her brain. “But what I can tell you is that your father and Hudson are very different men. Jack was always selfish, even from the beginning. He was someone caught up in society and making sure his image was perfect. Hudson, though I don’t know him as well as you, doesn’t seem to be that way. He seems like a kind, thoughtful man who’s putting your needs ahead of his own. Would Jack have ever moved to the beach for me before we were married? I doubt it. He would’ve released me rather than track me down. Put all those fears aside. They won’t do anything except rot the great relationship you’ve got.”
A wobbly smile alighted on Chandler’s face. The worry still flashed in her eyes, but Ginny could tell that she had listened, and that the seed of her words could begin to sprout and hopefully strangle the other weeds of thought that were trying to take root.
“Mama’s right,” Reece said. “Hudson isn’t Daddy, so don’t make him be like that.”
“I know he’s not, but I said yes to marrying him, and now all this doubt is creeping into my mind. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to think this, but how can I not? Not after what just happened to you, Mama. It’s not like any of us ever expected that Daddy would have a second family and he’d take the house from you, but he did. And now I’m about to start my life with Hudson, and Daddy’s shadow is hanging over that.”
Ginny’s heart ached for her daughter. “Have you talked to Hudson about this?”
“No.”
“You should. You need to tell him your worries and your doubts. If you don’t, they’ll become a wedge between you. He won’t know what’s wrong, and you’ll be afraid to tell him. If Jack had come to me years earlier and asked for a divorce, it would’ve been hard, but I would have managed it. Actually I would have preferred that to learning about his secret life when the will was read.”
Reece threw up her arms. “But then you wouldn’t have bought the lighthouse.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “No, I wouldn’t have, and I wouldn’t have started my own business—with the help of my two wonderful daughters.” Her gaze nestled onto Chandler, who still looked lost. Ginny wished for the time when her daughter was still young, when she would hold her close, run her fingers through her hair and whisper in her ear that everything would be okay. But those days were long gone, and deep rips had torn her heart since then. “Talk to him. Talk to Hudson and let him know your worries. I guarantee that he’ll understand, and he’ll be thankful you told him.”
She inhaled deeply. “You’re right. I’ll tell him.”
“Good.”
“Great.” Reece slapped her hands together. “If we’re done, I need to get prepping for tomorrow’s lunch. We’re having fried chicken, potato salad and creamy cole slaw.”
Ginny rose. “Oh, that reminds me—I’m meeting with Mrs. Travis in the morning.”
“Mrs. Who?”
“Travis. She’s an older woman who wants us to cater a luncheon for her. I may be a bit late getting back.”
“That’s okay.” Her youngest loaded plates onto her hand. “Chandler will be here to help.”
“Actually I might not be,” she said with a grimace. “I promised Vicki that I’d help move some things around at the studio. But I can ask her to reschedule.”
“No, that’s okay. I can handle lunch by myself for a few minutes. No big deal.”
Ginny frowned. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Reece flashed her a wide smile full of straight, white teeth. She was so pretty. Her beauty wasn’t like Chandler’s, who had been gifted with a long, lithe body, hair the color of a wheat field, and bright eyes. No, Reece was more of the girl-next-door type with her brown hair and round cheeks. She was approachable, sweet, whereas Chandler was untouchable. Reece never appreciated her own looks, though, but Ginny did.
“I got this,” her youngest insisted. “But only if you promise to read that diary and tell us what it says.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll start it tonight, and I’ll let you know everything that’s in it.”
“Thank you.”
As she helped her daughters clear the table, her phone buzzed. A wistful smile played on her face. It was probably Aiden calling to see if she’d recovered from the bees. But when she glanced at the name on the screen, her heart dropped.
She recognized the number immediately because it had been the landline in her old home, the fabulous house in Buckhead, the home of her dreams—or nightmares, now.
Only one person could have been calling her from that number—Savannah, Jack’s mistress, and the woman who now lived her old life.
“Who is it, Mama?” Chandler asked. “You’re staring at that phone as if it’s a ghost.”
Ginny bristled. She dropped the phone into her pocket as if it were a hot potato. “It’s no one. Just a spam call.”
It was no one, indeed.
EMMA GRACE
I am in love. It sounds so silly to say, so childish, but it’s true. Diary, I met him today, the man I will marry. Only he isn’t a man yet. But he will soon be.
Papa has secured the job at the new lighthouse. It’s a fine place with bigger rooms than the last one. Now I have a bedroom all to myself.
We had only just settled in when Papa sent me to get flour and coffee from the store.
There aren’t many shops here. It’s mostly small houses along the sandy road. The town is small but growing. I found the general store easily enough and purchased what Papa had asked for. I’d only just paid and was leaving, walking out the door, when I dropped my wallet. Before I could grab it, a strong hand with thick muscles took it first.
I looked up into the brightest eyes I’ve ever seen. They were flecked with brown and so warm. There stood a young man who was taller than me, with strong shoulders and dark brown hair. He smiled and handed me the wallet.
“You dropped this.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t even look at him he was so beautiful.
“I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”
I told him my name and we’d just moved here, but that Papa had lived in the area before.
“I’m James but everybody calls me Jim. Maybe I’ll see you again, then,” he said before going into the store.
Diary, I couldn’t breathe when I walked away. I just hope that I’ll see him again. I can’t imagine not ever looking at that face once more.
Diary, I have seen him. I was coming home from school (I have one year left), when I saw Jim walking down the road. He spotted me and he smiled. Diary, he smiled and said, “Well, if it isn’t Emma Grace, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter.”
My cheeks burned so hot when he said that, and I became so nervous that I was sure I wouldn’t be able to say anything, but somehow I managed to reply, “It’s not fair that you know who I am, and I don’t know about your father.”
“Oh, my father?” He stared down at me with eyes that made me stop breathing. Then he rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “My father’s a fisherman. He catches the biggest red snapper you’ve ever seen. Caught one as big as a whale once, but the fish sweet-talked him into being thrown back in.”
I laughed and Jim asked if he could escort me somewhere. I told him that I was going home, and he asked to walk me there.
“You’re not even going that way,” I told him.
“What if I am now?”
“If you’re sure, then you may walk me.”
“Such nice manners. I’m not sure that I’m fit company to be in the presence of a fine lady.”
“Then perhaps you should keep walking,” I joked, and he laughed.
Oh, Diary! I can’t tell you all that we talked about because my mind is still spinning from it. But I found out that his name is James (I already knew that, of course. See? I still can’t think straight), he’s from here, and in a year he hopes to have saved enough money to leave. His father desperately wants him to be a fisherman, but Jim doesn’t want to do that. He wants to move to a big city and start a business. He doesn’t know what kind, but something that doesn’t involve fish. He told me so much that I asked him why he was sharing all of it.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something kind in you, Emma Grace, and my heart says it’s okay to tell you about me.”
By then I was home, and so he left. But he asked if it would be okay to take me to the movies, and of course I told him that I had to ask my father. Then I came straight here to write everything down. Now all I have to do is tell Papa.
Terrible news, Diary. I told Papa about Jim, and he said the worst thing that I could ever hear.
“You stay away from that boy and his family.”
“But I don’t understand. Why?”
“Just do as I say,” he yelled, really yelled. “Do it and don’t question me.”
Then he opened the whiskey bottle and took a long drink like he does when he’s worried, and at that point I knew the conversation was over. There would be no talking to him about Jim because his mind was made up. But why? Why was he acting like that? He doesn’t even know Jim, so what could he have ever done against Papa?
Diary, I’ve tried to put him out of my head, I really have. I’ve tried and tried. I’ve studied more, I’ve even met a few girls who are nice, but try as I may, Jim is still in my thoughts.
And I’ve been seeing him in secret.
It’s terrible, a horrible thing to do behind Papa’s back. I planned on obeying him, I swear. But then I saw Jim.
He showed up outside the school on Monday. I’d told him that if I could meet him on Saturday for a movie, that I would see him at the theater. But since that day had come and gone, I figured he’d think that I wasn’t interested in him. Even thinking that makes my heart ache, Diary. It’s like I’ve known him all my life, and I don’t want to hurt him.
But he was standing outside the school with a lopsided grin on his face. “You missed a great movie. Shane will go down in the history books.”
He said it in a teasing way, and I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Do you like Westerns?”
“As much as you do.”
I cocked my head. “How do you know I like Westerns? I could prefer space alien movies.”
He laughed. “A lighthouse girl dreaming of space aliens? I don’t think so. You’d rather be living an adventure in the Old West, donning a cowgirl hat and riding a bucking bronco.”
It was my turn to laugh, which broke the tension between us. “I’m sorry about Saturday.”
“Me too. Why didn’t you come?”
How could I tell him what Papa had said? “I, um, had to do some things for my father. The lighthouse is a mess and needs a lot of cleaning.”
He looked at me then, and Diary, I swear it felt like he was looking straight into my soul. “You don’t have to lie. If you didn’t want to go, just tell me.”
My heart nearly stopped beating then. He was looking at me with such intention that my gaze fell to the ground. “I…I do want to see you, but my father won’t allow it.”
“Ah, I understand. The fisherman’s son isn’t good enough for the lighthouse keeper’s daughter.”
He started to walk away, and panic spread through my body. I grabbed his sleeve. “It’s not like that.” He halted and turned around, his shoulder slumping in defeat. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me to see you. He won’t say.”
“Maybe I should meet him.”
“No!” Then quieter I said, “I don’t think that would help.”
Jim tipped his head and studied me. It felt like I was an onion and every part of me was made up of layers. His eyes seemed to peel back those layers, one at a time, exposing me in a way that frightened and excited me.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
I bit my bottom lip and thought about it. “I don’t want to go against my father.”
“You’re sixteen, practically a woman.”
“I know.” I kicked a pebble out of my path. “But he’s still my father.”
“I understand.” He took a step back and started to turn again.
“But I want to see you,” I added.
He stopped and pivoted back to face me. “Are you sure?”
And then Diary, I said the boldest thing that I’ve ever said in my life, because it goes against what I’m supposed to do.
I remember lifting my head, feeling every ounce of defiance vibrating in my bones when I answered, “Yes, I’m sure that I want to see you.”
And so now I have a secret boyfriend. I pray that Papa never finds out.
GINNY
The home where Mrs. Travis was staying was a two-story white home just off the ocean in Port St. Joe. It sat on a square patch of grass that seemed almost out of place so close to the beach.
The home had black shutters and a cupola at the top, giving it a regal look. Ginny glanced down at her flowing dress and sandals and wondered if she should have dressed nicer for the meeting.
Well, it was too late to change her clothes now, so what she wore would have to do.
The door opened as soon as she knocked, and the driver from the other day opened it. “Mrs. Travis is expecting you,” he said politely.
Ginny followed him into the home, which was lavishly decorated with expensive rugs on the floors and custom paintings in gilded frames hanging on the walls.
The home was reminiscent of her old house in Buckhead, the one she’d had to abandon. Her stomach twinged in anger, and she exhaled slowly to release the hurt that still sliced sharply through her whenever she thought too much about it.
To distract herself, she focused on the decor. Large potted palms were tucked into the corners, and the crimson rugs were accented with golden drapes and cloths that graced the accent tables sprinkled about the foyer and beyond.
They walked through an open set of glass-lined French doors out into a sunroom. Sunlight splashed onto the white marble tile with ebony veins racing through it. More palms hugged the corners of the room, and a white wrought-iron table was placed in the center of the space, flanked by two matching chairs.
Mrs. Travis sat in one eating what looked like her breakfast. She turned slowly and greeted Ginny with a nod.
“Good to see you again. Can Sam bring you anything?”
“Tea would be appreciated.” She had learned a long time ago that when someone offered you a refreshment, it was best to take it. “Unsweetened is fine.”
“Very well.” Mrs. Travis flicked her hand and he left. “Sam’ll be back in a moment.”
Mrs. Travis was dressed in a sea-green suit dress with a white silk blouse peeking out underneath it. She pinned her stony gaze on Ginny, which caused a flush to work up her neck. It had been a long time since she’d been in the presence of a woman like this—powerful, able to twirl her finger and have anything and everything done, but Ginny wouldn’t cower, even if the woman’s eyes looked like they were seeing straight through her.
“Thank you for coming.”
“You’re very welcome. We’re excited for the opportunity to host the Teal Scarf Ladies.”
“We do a lot of charity work, you know,” Mrs. Travis explained. “We help women and children in the community. Well, most of them do. I only oversee. I don’t live here full-time. Much of my time is spent in Atlanta.”
“You don’t say. That’s where I moved from.”
“What area?”
