The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel (4 page)

“Sure.” He grinned, seemingly pleased that she’d asked.

She strolled around the easel to face the painting, feeling her legs could buckle at any moment. She felt high from the endorphins that must have been released within her body. Sam was no artist, but she could see the man was very talented. He’d captured the seascape with such realism that she thought it might be possible to walk straight into the picture and feel the spray of the ocean on her skin. The soft pastel color palette was otherworldly, like the unfolding of a dream. The painting was so lovely it took her breath away.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s stunning.” Her voice came out in a hushed whisper. As her gaze roamed over every inch of it, something in the corner grabbed her attention. “What’s this?” She drew closer, squinting, and realized he’d painted a young girl with blonde hair into the picture. Sam jumped back like she’d been burned on a hot stove.

“What’s wrong?” Aidan asked.

Samantha’s voice held grit when she answered. “You said you never saw the child.”

“I didn’t.”

Her mouth pursed, and she stabbed her finger into the canvas. “Then why did you paint her into your picture?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Staring, she watched his facial expression change.

He didn’t understand. “What girl?”

“This one, right here.” She turned to the painting again, but the image of surf, sand and a blue sky was all that reflected back from the canvas. There was no little girl in the painting. Her mouth gaped, and she felt another headache coming on. “Never mind. I think I’m losing it.” She stumbled away.

“Don’t leave yet.” He matched his pace to her quick one. “I don’t mean to be forward, or to butt into your affairs, but it seems you could use a friend. I’m a good listener if you want to talk. Would you care to meet me somewhere for a drink this evening?”

The invitation sounded genuine—up until he mentioned having drinks. She’d heard that line more times than she could count. Vulnerable at the moment, she knew better than to fall for it. Chad’s look alike almost had her believing he was a nice guy trying to help a girl out. But Sam knew when a man was hitting on her. All her adult life she’d been told how pretty she was, right before a hand had tried to grope her thigh. Most men backed off when they learned she was a contractor and an expert kick boxer.

 She shrugged off Aidan’s jacket and tossed it to him. Confused and chilled to the bone, she strode in the direction of the lighthouse and mumbled, “Thanks for the water.”

He dropped back. When she’d gone a few more feet, he hollered, “What about your sandals? You left them behind.”

“I don’t care,” she called back. Her insides were raked raw. Shivering from cold, Samantha jogged the rest of the way to the lighthouse with the hot sand stinging her bare feet. As she rounded the corner, she jolted when she saw someone standing at the front door. It was a man, and his back was to her.

Annoyance seeped into her bones. She needed to change out of her wet clothes and take a hot shower. The last thing she needed right now was a visitor. Who could it be? She knew no one here, except the man who could be Chad’s double. Wiping at her eyes, she took a deep breath, plastered on a fake smile, and approached.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

The man turned around. He was about her height with a slim build, wearing a t-shirt, boots, and gray work trousers. Light brown hair the color of wheat stuck out from under a baseball cap. Two paper sacks filled his arms.

“Uh, hello. I’m Jason Murphy. My mother sent me over with some groceries.”

When Samantha angled her head in question, he explained further.

“We own Murphy’s Market. It’s on the corner of Main and Crane. My mother’s name is Claire Murphy. She would have come to welcome you herself, but it’s a busy time at the store.” He shoved the bags into Samantha’s arms and dropped his gaze to the ground.

He must be around her age, she figured, but his pattern of speech and the lack of eye contact led her to believe he was either very shy or a little slow.

“Thank you,” she replied, wondering how his mother knew about her, and then realizing Pavee Cove was a small town. Gossip probably traveled faster than a bullet. “Would you mind getting the door for me?” she asked, nodding toward it.

“Sure.” He pushed it open.

As she stepped through, she again wondered how in the world she’d ended up in the ocean. If she’d fallen asleep and walked in her sleep, would she have shut the door behind her or left it open? It didn’t matter, but trying to logically process the events that had just taken place made her feel better. Thinking she’d been thrown into an episode of The Twilight Zone, she deposited the sacks on the kitchen counter. When she stepped back outside a moment later, Jason was walking down the sidewalk without so much as a backwards glance. She noticed he favored his right leg, walking with a limp.

“Thank you!” she called to his back. He turned and waved, but kept progressing past the tiger lilies toward an old green pickup truck that was parked next to her vehicle in the gravel lot.

She waved back. “Please tell you mother I appreciate her kindness!”

Jason climbed into the truck and tooted the horn before backing up and driving away.

Samantha chalked up his behavior to being shy of strangers or in a hurry to get back to the market. After putting away the food staples, she changed out of her wet clothes and showered, all the while thinking about the bizarre morning she’d had so far. Hoping to put it out of her mind, she unpacked her suitcases.

As a change of pace, she’d purchased some sundresses before leaving Portland and also brought along shorts and sandals, leaving her jeans and boots behind. As she filled the bureau drawers and hung the dresses in the small closet, she cursed herself for not returning for the sandals that she’d left on the beach. She’d only brought a few pairs of shoes with her, with those new sandals being her favorite.

It was just that the situation on the beach had been so upsetting. She’d wanted to get away from that man as quickly as possible.

Flopping onto the bed, she was grateful that it was soft, just the way she liked a mattress to feel. Gazing at the wooden ceiling above her, she felt
certain
she’d seen a little girl from the light tower and again on the beach. And what about that artist? How could Aidan look so much like Chad? It was so eerie that goose pimples peppered her flesh as his face flashed in her mind.

To top everything off, apparently, word had spread fast that there was a newcomer in the lighthouse. That was a bit unsettling to know her private business wasn’t private.

If Dr. Teagan had known what Samantha would be subjected to on her first day, she might never have suggested she come to Pavee Cove. She was supposed to be resting. Not facing new challenges and doubting her mental stability.

A bump on the window ripped her from her musings. Sitting up, she glanced around, getting the distinct impression she wasn’t alone in the room. An icy feeling slid up her arms. Another loud bump sent her springing off the bed and soaring down the spiral staircase. Something thudded against the front door.

Cautiously, she squeaked open the door, stepped out, and was immediately attacked by a big hairy animal. She screamed and was knocked to her back onto the grass. A crushing weight pounced on her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut and flung her head back and forth, desperately trying to avoid being licked.

“Paddy! Get off her!” a deep voice commanded.

Samantha felt the weight lift and was able to breathe again.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice apologized.

When she opened her eyes, Aidan stood there holding a longhaired black and brown German shepherd by its collar. “Bad boy,” he chastised, though Sam thought the rebuke sounded weak and unconvincing.

She scrubbed a hand over her mouth to wash off the doggie germs.

“Sit,” Aidan said. Amazingly, the dog did sit while continuing to sneak sideways peeks at her on the ground. His long tongue dangled out of its mouth, flopping around like a fish, with slobber dripping onto the grass.

Aidan held tight to the dog with one hand while offering his other to Sam. “I’m so sorry. Let me help you up.”

“Never mind. I can get up by myself.” She scrambled to her feet and grimaced as she rubbed her shoulder and stomach.

“I feel terrible. Are you hurt?” he asked.

“I’ll survive, but I hope that animal has had all its shots.” A scary thought ran through her mind. “I’m not going to get rabies, am I?”

Aidan’s eyes widened. “He didn’t bite you, did he?”

She smoothed her hands over her body, checking, to make sure. “No, but his dirty mouth was all over my face, and in my mouth. Yuck! I think I might throw up.” She’d never had a pet before and wasn’t comfortable around animals. Aidan’s lips split into a grin. It was bad enough to have just been licked by a hairy creature with bad breath, but being the butt of another joke caused her ire to rise like a thermometer in the sun.

“Do you have a license for this dog?” She jumped back when the animal whined and lunged forward.

“No, Paddy!” Aidan forced the dog to sit down again by pushing his hand onto his rump. “Of course I do. Again, I’m truly sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded while locked in a stare-down with the dog.

“Don’t be mad at Paddy,” Aidan said, ruffling the animal’s head. “He’s just a two-year old friendly pup who doesn’t know any better. He only wanted to say hello.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Maybe you should teach him some manners and train him not to jump on people.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ve been meaning to.”

“Or better yet,” Samantha interjected, “perhaps the dog’s owner could use some education of his own—on how to keep his pet in line.”

Aidan frowned. “I’ll not be a whip master, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Samantha’s body went cold. She remembered Chad jesting about the crew knowing who the whip master was. He’d made the joke on the same day lightning struck him. “Wh…wh…why did you say that?” she stammered.

“Say what?”

“Whip master? Why did you use that term?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed you were insinuating I should beat my dog if he doesn’t behave. I take it you’re not an animal lover. Abusing an animal is not a form of discipline. Paddy may be a tad rambunctious, but he’s a lovable guy. And if anyone ever lays a hand on him, they’ll have me to wrangle with.”

Aidan’s eyes flashed dark, and Samantha felt embarrassed. He’d put her in her place, and it was deserved. She did not condone abuse of any kind and hadn’t meant to imply any such thing. The whip master comment had thrown her into a tailspin after everything else that had already occurred. That was all.

“I apologize,” she said quietly. “I meant nothing of the sort. I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m not myself today. Your dog seems perfectly nice, even if he might suffer from attention deficit disorder and stink like fish.” She smiled, hoping the kidding would ease the strain. It was obvious this man was devoted to his dog.

Feeling a strong desire to touch him and make believe he was Chad, healthy, handsome, and well again, she held out her hand to shake. “Can we start over? Hello. My name is Samantha Landers, but you can call me Sam. I’m a contractor from Portland. It’s nice to meet you.”

Apparently Aidan was not a man who held grudges. Grinning widely, he grasped her hand and pumped it up and down. The moment their flesh touched, her chest tightened and her heart began to pound with an insane rhythm. Her body felt like it had caught fire. A gaze into his startled eyes ensured her he’d also felt something powerful course between them.

“Aidan Gallagher,” he answered, re-introducing himself, while exploring her face and squeezing her hand.

Tears threatened to spring from her eyes, the second time in as many days. Aidan looked and sounded so much like Chad, who lay far away in a hospital bed, perhaps asleep for eternity. She didn’t know how long she could stand there before breaking down.

Slipping free of his hand, she changed the subject back to the dog as a way of trying to still her racing heart. “What kind of a name is Paddy for a German breed? That
is
a German shepherd, right?”

With his intense gaze riveted to her, Aidan hesitated before answering. “Yes, he’s German, but I’m Irish. Thus, the name Paddy.”

“Oh. I should have known Gallagher was Irish.” She searched her memory, trying to recall whether Chad had ever mentioned having Irish roots. She couldn’t remember that, or much of anything else about his family he’d ever told her. Her brain felt fuzzy. It was more than strange, the way she suddenly felt that small details about Chad were fading.

“The Irish half of me comes from my mom,” Aidan said, drawing her back to the conversation.

No mention of a father, she noted. Perhaps the two of them had that in common—an absentee dad. “You don’t have an Irish accent,” she said.

“I lost it years ago.”

“I didn’t know people could lose their accent.” Before he could comment further, Paddy bent his head and clamped his teeth around a yellow Frisbee, distracting them both. It was the first time she’d noticed the toy. “Were you playing Frisbee with him earlier?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid I threw it too high a couple of times and it thumped against your window.”

So, that was the bump she’d heard. A wave of relief flowed through her knowing she wasn’t sharing the lighthouse with a ghost.

Aidan’s gaze continued to scorch her like a burning torch. Confusion ran havoc over her. She wanted to continue standing there and looking at him while suppressing the urge to flee. “Well, nice to see you again.” She moved toward the open door. It had only been an hour or so since they’d first met on the beach. If there was a reason he’d stopped by, he wasn’t saying. “Bye, Paddy.” She maintained her distance from the dog but hoped Aidan realized she harbored no hard feelings toward either of them for what had happened.

“Sam?”

She turned. “Yes?”

“I actually came by to apologize. I’d like to make up for being a jerk earlier. Will you have dinner with me tonight?”