The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel (2 page)

“He’s in a coma because of me. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

Dr. Teagan crossed her legs. “We’ve discussed this before. It wasn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with the lightning strike. This was a terrible, tragic accident caused by nature.”

Samantha vigorously shook her head. “If I hadn’t mentioned the cord, Chad never would have gone up to the roof. I should have insisted he leave that stupid nail gun where it was. I’m to blame.”

“Holding onto guilt will not heal Chad.”

Knowing it to be the truth, Samantha still felt guilty. Tears threatened to burst from her eyes, which was unusual. She rarely cried.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Dr. Teagan reasoned, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward.

“There are a dozen things I could have done,” Samantha challenged, thinking back to the mistakes she’d made that fateful day, and so many other days that had come before it. “I could have kept my mouth shut about the dangling cord. I could have stopped thinking about the bottom line, for once. And I could have accepted one of the many invitations Chad offered in the past year, to have drinks or dinner, or to see a movie together. I should have acknowledged his feelings for me.”

“What do you mean?”

Samantha folded her hands in her lap. “I knew he cared for me. He wanted to be more than friends and business partners.”

“Partners normally do care for one another,” Dr. Teagan pointed out.

“True, but his feelings were stronger. I…I think he may have been in love with me.”

Dr. Teagan’s eyes widened. “Did you love him?”

Samantha sniffled. “Love comes and goes, doctor. It’s not something that can be counted on.”

Dr. Teagan’s voice softened. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

A lump formed in Samantha’s throat. “Yes, I loved Chad, but not in a romantic way. He was a special man, and my good friend.”

“Have you ever been in love, Samantha?” Dr. Teagan asked.

She nibbled her lower lip. “No.”

“Do you hope to be someday?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know.”

“Most women, and men, dream about finding that one person who will make their life complete. The one some people call their soul mate. Have you never wanted that for yourself?”

“Soul mate?” Sam shook her head, disbelieving. “I really don’t have time to think about love, Doctor.”

“But you had feelings for Chad?”

“Yes, but only as a friend. I was just beginning to trust him and now he’s gone. At least, he’s gone in every sense of the word. His body may still be alive, but only because of the machines keeping him that way.” No matter how she tried, it was impossible to keep her eyes from welling. Had he only been a friend? Was she lying to herself
and
her psychiatrist?

The doctor grasped her hand and squeezed. “Love comes in many forms. Have you heard the saying, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”

Samantha gazed into Dr. Teagan’s sympathetic eyes. Her hand felt soft and warm and comforting. “I have. But whoever came up with that line probably never lost anyone.”

Silence filled the space between them before the doctor released her hand. “Psychiatrists are trained to approach patients with objectivity and refrain from getting attached. But we’re people with feelings, too. You’ve come to mean a lot to me, Samantha. I’d truly like to see you happy. You need to let go of the guilt and move forward with your life. I’ll be glad to work with you as long as you like, but maybe a change of scenery would do more good than continued therapy.”

Tilting her head, Sam said, “I don’t understand.”

Dr. Teagan smiled. “I know a place. There’s a small village on the coast called Pavee Cove. Have you heard of it?”

“No.”

“It’s a quaint little town. Someone I know converted the old lighthouse on the beach into a home. I can arrange for you to stay there as long as you’d like. What do you think? I believe it would do you a world of good to get away and distance yourself from Portland and the memories here, for a while. The ocean waves can lull a baby to sleep. Maybe they’ll soothe you, too, and the nightmares will stop.”

Samantha thought it over. After Chad’s accident, she’d finished the flip they’d been working on, with the crew’s help. But since then, she hadn’t taken on any other projects. It’d been too difficult to think about stepping into another house without her partner by her side. She had nothing keeping her here right now.

“If you need me, I’m only a phone call away,” Dr. Teagan said to bolster her confidence and give encouragement. “You hold the power to change your life, Samantha. No one else does. You’ve always taken control of every situation that came your way. Take control now.”

Samantha nodded. She was mentally and physically exhausted from emotional turmoil and lack of sleep. She owed it to herself to try to get her life back on track.

* * * *

Driving through the village of Pavee Cove several days later, Samantha felt like she’d stepped into a Norman Rockwell painting. It was more charming than any New England coastal town she’d seen. Neighbors talked across white picket fences and tended manicured gardens as children rode their bikes with dogs padding behind. Old Glory waved from flagpoles, and the architectural details on the town buildings all appeared to be historic and original. Everything looked picture perfect. Even the bandstand in the middle of town was getting a fresh coat of white paint by a man who whistled while he worked.

As she neared the shore, the smell of fish, saltwater, and sea air tickled her nostrils. A sense of familiarity washed over her as she brought her car to a stop and gazed out the windshield to the sailboats skimming the cobalt blue water of the Atlantic Ocean. This place was beautiful.

Her hometown of Portland was perched on a peninsula, jutting out into Casco Bay, but Sam had not made time, in quite a while, to stroll the waterfront or cobblestone streets of the Old Port section of the city. She’d always been too busy working. There were no excuses now not to relax and enjoy what Pavee Cove had to offer. Dr. Teagan had been kind enough to arrange for her to stay here so she could heal. She intended on making the time count, which would include lots of time on the beach.

A short distance up the road, the lighthouse came into view. Samantha parked the car in a gravel lot and stepped out and stretched her limbs. A patch of tiger lilies swayed in the gentle breeze, seeming to welcome her.

Her gaze traveled up the painted stone structure, standing what she estimated to be two hundred feet above the ocean. If the light tower were accessible, there’d be an incredible birds-eye view of the sea. She could just imagine watching the sun set from the top.

The breeze blew through her hair, lifting it off her shoulders and causing a chill to whisper across her nape. At the same time, a peculiar sensation flowed through her body. She ran her gaze up and down the structure again. A feeling hinted she’d been inside this lighthouse before and had looked out over the water. But that was impossible. She’d never even heard of Pavee Cove before Dr. Teagan mentioned it.

Shaking off the strange feeling, she popped the trunk and lifted out her two suitcases. A concrete sidewalk linked the parking lot to the lighthouse. This made rolling her suitcases easy.

Glimpsing past the lighthouse to the blue water beyond and hearing it lapping onto the beach set her heart soaring. As she strolled closer to what was to be her home for the next few weeks, she allowed a small smile to play on her lips. For the first time in three months, there was hope that she might get a decent night’s sleep tonight.

Standing at the base of the gigantic lighthouse made her feel like a tiny ant. Imagining herself that way was a reminder that life, and the things that happened along the way, was beyond her control—a lesson she’d been learning in therapy.

She slipped the ancient looking, square-headed key into the door lock and ducked her five foot six body to avoid bumping her head on the low doorframe. In the 1800s when the lighthouse had been erected, the wooden door must have been built for a lighthouse keeper the size of a Hobbit, she thought with a chuckle.

Once she’d dragged her suitcases in, she gazed around and smiled, pleasantly surprised with what she saw. Black and white tiles covered the floor, and a spiral staircase painted red disappeared into a floor above.

The bottom level of the lighthouse consisted of a spacious living area, where square windows on opposite sides of the uniquely shaped room let in light. Samantha marveled over a compact but contemporary kitchen before advancing up the circular staircase to find the bedroom, a light and airy space graced by another window. A peek into the small bathroom presented a toilet, sink and stall shower, and another window. The furniture in the home was comfortable, casual beach style. Everything was spotless, like a maid had recently been in to clean.

Obviously, the fittings, equipment, and clockwork mechanisms that had once made the lighthouse work had all been removed from the interior shell. Knowing what renovations cost, Samantha figured Dr. Teagan’s friend must have spent a boatload of cash to restore the inside of this landmark. And he or she had done a good job.

She glided down the stairs again and carefully hauled her suitcases back up to the bedroom, leaving them at the foot of the bed. As she stood at the bottom of the staircase on the bedroom level, she peered up and felt something akin to a magnet tugging at her feet and legs. It was a sensation she was powerless to ignore. As she began climbing to the next level, she knew the final flight of steps led to the light tower.

Her heart jumped with each slow step she took. The weird notion that she’d been there before sent a shiver racing down her spine. Her breath hitched. An overwhelming sense of being dragged up the stairs caused her stomach to roll. It was almost as if she could feel hands on her body, forcing her up.

Stopping to suck in a ragged breath, she swallowed the panic that stuck in her throat without warning. Telling herself there was no reason for apprehension, she forced her feet to move again.

When she reached the top, she felt breathless and dizzy. Leaning over and bracing her hands on her knees, Samantha inhaled fresh air until the feeling passed. But what she saw once she lifted her head and stepped into the glass-enclosed area caused gooseflesh to pepper her arms.

CHAPTER THREE

The panoramic view of the expansive ocean meeting the blue sky was as gorgeous as she’d expected it would be. Spying a door that exited onto an observation deck, Samantha moved across the room and stepped outside. She placed her hands on the iron rail and watched seagulls squawk and glide in front of her as she drew in a deep breath of salty air.

A feeling of solitude and peace settled over her as sea breeze blew through her hair and rays of sun warmed her bare arms. After a few moments of being mesmerized by the ocean waves crashing and breaking upon the shore below, the feeling of being off-balance passed and she re-entered the light tower to examine the large lamp that took up nearly the entire space.

Thick crystal surrounded it. She wondered if the lamp still worked. It only took a minute to locate an electrical switch on the wall near the entrance to the room. Dr. Teagan’s friend must have realized the value of maintaining the historic integrity of the light tower while automating the feature with modern electronics. She’d look forward to coming up tonight and trying the light out.

One more glance out the window at the beautiful aerial view and then she’d take a walk on the beach. She was here to relax and heal her broken heart. What better way to start than with a quiet stroll along the shoreline?

As Sam bellied up to the glass, her foot sunk into the wall.
What the…?

She knelt and poked her finger into the hole her foot had made and realized the lower half of the wall was covered in material similar to paper Mache. No wonder her sandal had gone straight through it!

Feeling something hard behind the wall, she gently tore at the paper and bent to peer in. It looked like a box. With her curiosity fully aroused, she peeled the paper back further and reached in to pull out a mahogany case. It was about sixteen inches long and six inches wide. The picture of an anchor was artistically carved on top.

With her heart lodged in her throat, Samantha sat cross-legged on the floor and placed the box in her lap. Who did it belong to? And why was it hidden behind the wall? How long had it been stashed there? Her fingers itched with enthusiasm as she opened the lid.

A spyglass lay cradled in a nest of dark green velvet. Samantha was barely breathing when she carefully lifted the instrument out of its case and studied it. Obviously it was a nautical, handheld telescope—the kind sea captains used. It appeared to be antique and was about fourteen inches long and made of brass.

The warm burn of pleasure started at her core and spread to every nerve ending as more questions and possible scenarios formed in her mind regarding the unexpected find.

Why had it been secreted away? For how many years had it been covered over in the wall? For what reason would someone have to hide a beautiful old telescope? It didn’t make sense, but mysteries usually didn’t—until they were solved.

With a thrill of excitement she hadn’t felt in months, Sam scrambled to her feet and wiped the lens with the bottom of her shirt. She placed the spyglass to her eye and swung it over the horizon. Fish jumped in the water! She pulled the apparatus down and squinted at the waves, seeing nothing with the naked eye.

With the spyglass repositioned to her eye again, she moved it back and forth, from sky to sea to sand. Through the lens, the view was brighter, clearer and sharper.

Just as she set her gaze on the beach, a blue mist drifted across the lens. That was weird. There were no clouds passing by to cause a shadow. Checking to see if there was dirt on the lens, and finding none, she raised the spyglass to her eye again and swung it back to the beach.

A little girl caught her eye. She was walking through the sand toward the ocean. The next moment, she strode with purpose straight into the water. Magnified three times her normal size but with her back to her, Samantha couldn’t see the girl’s face. She could tell by her size, however, that she was probably five or six. The water splashed around her ankles and then rose to her knees as she waded further out.