Summer on the Cape (7 page)

* * *

She wakened very early, delighted to find the morning cool and fragrant, the sky brilliantly clear and her own mood one of high good spirits. The sun was not quite risen above the horizon, and she decided to postpone breakfast. Too lovely a day, she thought, to stop, even for coffee. She just pulled on her ragged jeans and a plain white t-shirt and headed right out into the beautiful morning.

She drove only a short distance, choosing a nearby dirt road close to the beach, a road that she had passed almost every day, but had not yet explored. It disappeared into a low-lying valley, but when she drove well into it, she found that it continued on up a fairly steep hill, and near the top the road ended at a broad clearing in the trees, in which, set back at a small distance, a large house was gleaming white and quiet in the thin, chilly light. Surprised and entranced by the beauty and isolation of the house, Allie brought the Cherokee to a stop at the edge of the clearing. In the dense trees that surrounded her, the birds were singing their early-morning song, and the first pale wash of light was just beginning to fill the sky above her.

She sat behind the wheel in amazed silence, stunned by the vividness of a suddenly returned memory. After so many years, there in front of her, a child’s dream was turned into solid reality.

There it is! That’s the house!

A flash from long ago flooded her awareness.

She had been a little girl, not more than nine or ten. Her mother had cut a picture from a magazine and stuck it into the frame of the mirror over her dresser, and one morning, as Allie sat on her mother’s bed, watching her dress to go to her job in the paint factory, Allie asked about the gleaming, sun-bright house in the picture.

“Someday,” her mother had said, “this family is going to live in a house just like that.”

The dream had never come true, of course. And the picture had been gathered up with all the other things that had been disposed of after her mother’s death. Allie hadn’t consciously thought about that house since that time. But now, as she sat in the car, facing the entrance to the curved, graveled driveway, Allie knew this was the house of her mother’s dreams.

By its classic design, she recognized it as a very old, full Cape house, with double windows on either side of the transom door. It had apparently been carefully maintained over many generations, and several wings had been added, extending comfortably beyond the original structure. Chimneys rose up from the various parts of the home, and there were connecting passages between the wings. Through the paned windows, white curtains and plants were visible. The whole compound of buildings looked warm and inviting in the early morning light that was just beginning to fill the clearing.

A large garage formed one of the wings of the main structure and, in the garage, Allie saw two vehicles. One of them was a late-model, bronze-colored Jaguar. Allie was impressed: she didn’t care much about automobiles, but even she recognized this must be one of the sharpest, most expensive models on the market.

But it was the other vehicle in the garage that really surprised her. The other vehicle was Zach’s familiar green Ford pickup truck.

Allie sat behind the wheel of the Cherokee, absolutely stunned.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said aloud.

And then she saw, at the edge of the driveway that circled up to the front of the house, a small wooden sign hanging by chain links from a tree branch. The lettering carved into the wood was neat and simple, and it spelled out
ELIOT
.

How about that!

She was suddenly nervous. She gripped the steering wheel to steady herself.

I go out of my way to avoid him, and I wind up practically trespassing on his property
.

She felt like a fool and she glanced guiltily around her.

I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. This must be a private road. If Zach should see me sitting here
—

She knew she ought to get out of there right away but, as if guided by a little devil on her shoulder, she found the opportunity to learn more about Zach Eliot was irresistible.

Maybe, if I’m really quiet and just sort of tiptoe around . . . It’s so early, he’s probably still sleeping . . . I’ll just take a minute or two and look around a little bit
...

Leaving the car door open, Allie got out and, as quietly as she could, walked along the edge of the property, staying close to the trees that surrounded the clearing. Each step of her foot, as silent as she could make it in her deck shoes, seemed to crash through the still morning air.

I can’t believe I’m doing this
.

Her heart was thumping.

But it’s so early. Nobody would be awake now. I’ll just take a really quick look around, and then I’ll get out of here. I’m not doing any harm
.

Trying to keep her nerves steady, she circled behind the garage and made a wide pass around the broad lawn that extended at least an acre behind the house. Despite her skittishness, her trained eye was taking in a host of details, noting especially that, although the building was well cared for, with fresh white paint on the doors and window frames, the grounds were neglected. The outlines of flower beds were visible, but it was apparent that years had passed since any flowers had grown in them. The trees and shrubbery were ragged, in need of pruning.

She moved quietly past the back of the garage and continued on, staying within the shadow of the trees and shrubbery that marked the beginning of the woods. The big lawn behind the house, like the trees and shrubs, had received only minimal attention. It had been mowed a couple of weeks ago, but now dandelions dotted it brightly here and there, and patches of grass had gone to seed. Garden furniture was stacked up at one side of the flagstone terrace, looking forlorn, obviously not regularly used. A garden hose had been coiled on the terrace but there were no flowers growing in the large terra cotta planters along its border.

As Allie tiptoed through the long grasses at the edge of the clearing, her sense of panic was rising steadily. She knew she’d stepped way over the line and she was already thoroughly ashamed of herself.

“Golly,” she was whispering to herself, finding a bit of reassurance in the quiet sound of her own voice. “If he should catch me here . . . How did I get myself into this?” Her words, if she’d dared speak up, would have been a wail. “This was such a dumb idea!”

So she had seen the outside of Zach Eliot’s house. So what! All she wanted now was to get safely back to the car, undiscovered, and then get herself far away from the place.

She needed only to get around to the far side of the big lawn and through some trees that grew up close against the wall of the building. Staying as silent as she could, Allie rounded the lawn and moved gently through the trees along the side of the house. The morning air was sweet and still all around her. There was no rustle of the leaves above her head, and even the birds seemed to be holding their breath. She came around the corner and, in the driveway ahead of her, the Cherokee was waiting, its door open. She just had to tiptoe quietly across the open space at the front of the house and then just as quietly get out of there, and no one would be any the wiser.

She had taken only one step out onto the gravel when Zach’s voice made her jump.

“Kind of early in the morning for snooping around, isn’t it, Allie?”

He was leaning against the frame of the open doorway at the front of the house, naked to the waist and shoeless, wearing only his jeans. With a towel, he was wiping shaving cream from his face.

“I wasn’t snooping!” Allie could feel the flush rising in her face, the pounding of her heart now almost choking her. She understood that expression about wishing the earth would swallow her up. She could barely get the words out as she tried her best to sound casual. “I didn’t realize it was a private road. I just drove up here by mistake.”

“You bet it was a mistake!” The expression on Zach’s face was murderous. He stepped back into the house and held the door open. “Come on in, Allie.” His voice was ice cold. “You and I are going to have a little talk.”

Allie followed him meekly into the house, feeling too ashamed and guilty to protest. He slammed the door behind and, as she stood in the little entryway, trying to regain her composure, he finished wiping his face and pointed into the living room, at her left. “Wait in there,” he ordered. “I’m going to get dressed.” Angrily, he threw his towel onto a chair that stood just inside the dining room, to the right, and disappeared, two steps at a time, up the steep stairs that rose from the entryway.

She stood where she was for a minute or two, taking several deep breaths, waiting for her heart to stop its loud thumping.

Allie, you fool. How could you let yourself get into such a dumb situation? Talk about curiosity killing the cat!

Even as she scolded herself, and even as she waited for the frantic pounding somewhere inside her ribs to quiet down, the sight of Zach’s bare chest, his muscular torso disappearing into the tops of his jeans, stayed with her. His strong physique, only partially covered, as attractive as anything she’d ever painted in a life study class, had a surprisingly calming effect on her heartbeat. As a portrait subject, he was less threatening, and she began to breathe more normally and, despite her embarrassment and despite her immediate predicament, she found that her curiosity remained very much alive.

Well, if I really wanted to snoop, he certainly has given me a good opportunity.

She glanced to the right and saw, beyond the sun-filled dining room, a long passageway leading to one of the wings of the house. To the left, where he had ordered her to wait for him, was the living room, still shadowed, not yet reached by the morning sunlight. Allie went into the darkened room.

Though the light was dim, she could see that there were good rugs on the old wood floors and the furniture was of the best quality. She recognized the prints and paintings on the walls as the work of the best among the New England artists. Beautiful old brass lamps caught what little light came into the room, filtered through the leaves outside the paned windows.

A big wing chair, covered in a fabric of blue crewel on a white background, was pulled up in front of the fireplace, and on the chair, yesterday’s newspaper, half read, was folded back to the editorial page. A stack of mail had been tossed, unopened, onto a small table next to an antique rocking chair on the other side of the fireplace, and Allie saw, from the return addresses, that it was all from investment banking houses and securities firms.

On a table near one of the windows, a silver tray held a crystal decanter and a set of crystal wineglasses, and next to the tray stood a collection of generations of family photographs in antique frames of silver and brass and wood. But there was a layer of dust on the crystal that dimmed its beauty, and the brasses and silver were badly tarnished.

She ran a curious finger along the edge of the silver tray.

Something about this “caretaker” of Adam’s doesn’t add up. The sleek sailboat down at the dock had been enough of a surprise—and now this beautiful old house and that very fancy car in the garage.

She scanned the room in a quick glance.

This doesn’t look like the home of a man who runs a small boat rental business and does odd jobs for the summer residents.

She was going to have plenty of questions for Adam when she got back to the city.

Her glance settled on the family photos on the table in front of her. Among the pictures of couples, of children, and of family gatherings on lawns and on beachfronts, there was one that caught her eye instantly. In a large silver frame, there was a much younger Zach, smiling broadly, an affectionate arm around a very lovely young woman with smooth, dark hair trimmed just to the level of her delicate jawline, and bright, happy dark eyes.

Allie wished she hadn’t seen that picture. She knew enough about portraits to know that the two young people in the picture were deeply in love, and she was instantly shamed by the mean twist of jealousy that stirred in her at the sight of Zach and this unknown woman.

Guiltily, she forced her gaze away, to another photo, a picture of a little boy, perhaps four or five years old. Allie picked it up, holding it to the light, in order to see it more clearly. There was no mistaking that dark wavy hair, sticking out of the little sea captain’s hat, the serious set of the mouth and the dark eyebrows. She studied the portrait intently, charmed by the handsome little face.

“Allie! Damn it, put that down!” Zach crossed the room furiously and took the photo from her hand. “Can’t you leave anything alone?”

With his hand on her arm, he led her roughly out of the living room, through the dining room, and into the kitchen, where he pulled a chair away from the table and set her abruptly into it.

His sudden appearance, his anger, his grabbing the picture from her, on top of her embarrassment at being caught intruding—she needed to get it all sorted out.

“What’s the matter, Zach? What are you so mad about? It’s a wonderful picture. It’s a picture of you, isn’t it?”

He put the picture down on the table, facing away from him. He dropped into a chair across the table from Allie and, with one elbow propped up on the table in front of him, he rested his forehead against his open hand, his eyes closed in frustration. Allie knew he was trying to get control of himself.

“No, Allie,” he said at last. His voice was very quiet. “It’s not a picture of me.”

She started to say something, but Zach held up his hand warningly. “Just shut up, will you!” His eyes were still closed and Allie’s words froze on her lips. “Just do me a favor and shut up for a minute.”

She waited silently while Zach took a few very deep breaths. At last he opened his eyes and looked at her intently for a long time. She waited for him to speak.

“Now, listen, Allie,” he said at last. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. I just called Adam and told him to call you off. I told him, if he wants to deal with me, he can deal with me directly, without sending his spies up here.” Allie’s mouth dropped open in obvious astonishment and Zach held up his hand again to stop her. “I know,” he said. “I know.