The Widow's Walk (11 page)

With that, Constance believed that for the moment, at least, she had done everything she could do to convince Garrett. Even so, if he needed more proof, there was one last thing that she could do. Although not now, because there were people about. That would come later tonight, when Garrett returned to Seaside, as she was now convinced he would. Then he would at last believe her, she prayed. After nodding at Garrett, Constance carefully wended her way among the men and left the room. She seemed able to move with complete silence and was apparently quite expert at avoiding human contact if needed.

Stunned, Garrett simply stood there, staring blankly at the open doorway.

“Garrett, are you still with us?” Jay asked.

As Garrett turned around, he realized that his knees were shaking and that he had broken out in a cold sweat.

“Are you okay, boss?” Trent asked. “You look a little pale.”

While Garrett did his best to produce a smile, he wiped his forehead with a pocket handkerchief.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered. “Too much coffee, probably.”

“Well then, is it okay if I go to the office?” Trent asked. “The troops are probably wondering where we are.”

“Yeah,” Garrett answered. “You go on ahead. But I'm not feeling well, and I might take the day off. If you need anything, you can always reach me on my cell, okay? And I know we have a presentation today, but you can handle it, right?' ”

“Sure, boss,” Trent answered. Then the look on his face turned more serious. “And just for the record,” he added, “being here today makes me realize that I was wrong about this place. When you get done with it, it's going to be beautiful, and I mean that. I know of no one else who could pull this off.”

Those words meant a lot to Garrett, especially since nearly everyone had been of the opinion that he should never have bought Seaside. Now both Jay and Trent agreed with him, and because they were of the trades, their opinions mattered.

Trent smiled. “Take care of yourself,” he said. “You do look kind of wiped out.”

“Thanks,” Garrett answered.

With that, Trent sauntered back down the hall and headed for work.

“I'm going to take a quick look around before I go,” Garrett said to Jay. “Then I'll be out of your hair.”

Jay smiled. “Okay,” he answered. “See you later.”

Garrett had no intention of actually inspecting the work. Nor was he feeling unwell, like he had told Trent. After what he had just witnessed he was desperate to find Constance, hopefully somewhere secluded where they might talk. Then he wanted to spend the rest of the day alone, trying to process all that he had just seen. He was taking a risk trying to find Constance now, because there were so many other people around. But something inside him said that he simply had to find her, if for no other reason than to see her again.

When a quick search of the house proved fruitless, he went outdoors. As if inspecting the ongoing work he walked all around the house but still did not find her, so he set off for the barn. After sliding one of the doors aside, he walked in.

All barns seemed to smell the same, he was reminded as he walked deeper inside. Regardless of how old or how new, they always reminded one of hay, dirt, dust, and leather. Despite how long this old barn had been empty, it too still smelled of such things.

After reconnoitering the first floor, he went to the stairs, where he paused, thinking. If Constance had wanted him to follow her, he decided, she would have beckoned him to do so. But she did not. No, he realized. She wanted to wait and talk to him later, when they could be alone.

When he lifted his face and looked up, he saw no movement, heard no sound. He did not know whether Constance was on the second floor, but it no longer seemed to matter. If she were there, seeking privacy from what had just transpired, he would let her have it. But he would return tonight and hopefully see her again.

Deciding to leave, he walked back to the house then down the grassy knoll to his Jeep.

Chapter 10

As Garrett drove away, Constance watched. She was standing in one of her favorite places in the old barn, before an open second-floor window that provided a wide view of the road leading in and out of Seaside.

This window was not far from her hiding place, and she had come to it hundreds of times over the decades, watching wistfully as home owners came and went. There had been many, and she could remember most of them by name. But the man who left Seaside just a few moments ago was the most important of them all. He could both see and hear her, and it was absolutely paramount that she learn why.

Then Constance let go a small smile, one of the few since her fall from the widow's walk so long ago. Testing Jay and Trent had been a bit of fun, but in the end only Garrett mattered. While making faces and then shrieking at the top of her lungs, she knew she had no need to watch for Jay's and Trent's reactions, for there would be none. Only Garrett's responses were important, and she could tell by the look on his face that he had been highly affected. Even so, that did not mean he believed her. During the short time in which she had come to know him, she realized that he was a highly intelligent man, and surely not a gullible one. As her eyes welled up with tears, she lowered her head.

My Dear God,
she thought.
I ask so much of him. If our roles were reversed, would I be half as receptive to all of this as he has been?

She glanced around the second story of the barn again, thinking.

She was sure that Garrett would return tonight, because his curiosity about all this would now be far too great. If he remained skeptical, there was one more thing that she could do to convince him. She didn't particularly want to reveal it, but if she must, she would. And then Garrett would simply have to believe her, logic be damned.

Feeling tired, she walked back to her little hiding place in the far corner. It felt good to lie down on the tattered mattress, and although the barn itself was quiet, she could hear the distant sounds of the workmen. She found the sounds reassuring, and no matter what happened between her and Garrett, she could at least take solace in that.

As she lay there listening, her thoughts again turned to the strange effect he was having upon her feelings. She had no ready explanation for the wonderfully pleasant sensation she had experienced when touching his hands last night. And she was developing a sense of unrequited longing, which was at the same time wonderful, but frightening. Wonderful, because she had not felt this way about a man for so many decades. And frightening, both because she had no answer for what was causing it, and because of her continued love for her long-lost Adam. Along with every tiny increment of her growing interest in Garrett, there also came an equally painful rise in her guilt.

Some moments later she began feeling strangely, and soon she sensed her consciousness starting to drift away. It was a pleasant feeling, and it did not frighten her. Even so, despite how tired she was, she could not call it sleep. Instead it seemed a welcome departure from her consciousness, and she somehow realized that even if she wished to try and stop it, doing so would prove fruitless. She was being inexorably drawn to it like a moth to a flame. And so Constance gave herself over to it, and simply let it happen . . .

A
FTER SOME TIME HAD PASSED
, she knew not how much, Constance felt someone gently shaking her by the shoulders.

“You must awaken, my love,” Adam said to her. “It is such a lovely day. Were you planning to sleep it all away?”

Constance opened her eyes, stretched luxuriously, and then looked up at the face of her husband. Adam was staring down at her with those intense brown eyes of his, a wonderful smile stretched across his face. When she smiled back at him, he leaned down and gave her a deep kiss then stroked one of her cheeks. Although his hands were strong and calloused from his many years at sea, Constance always found them to be gentle and endearing.

“How fine ye are to me, wife,” he said quietly.

Constance reached up and touched his face. He was clean-shaven now, but he would be putting to sea soon, and when he returned he would have a full beard.

“And how fine ye are to me, husband,” she answered him.

Such were the loving phrases that they oftentimes said to each other. Adam had first uttered this to her only a few days into their marriage, and he had always remembered it. And Constance's reply, although nearly identical, was always equally heartfelt.

She rose up on her elbows and looked around. She and Adam were in a small cabin, located in the bow of Adam's personal sailboat. With a large picnic basket in hand, they had left Seaside that morning and sailed out onto the ocean. Even when he was between voyages, it seemed that Adam lusted for the sea. He had built this sailboat in their barn with his own two hands, and it had taken him several years to finish. Now it was a beautiful thing, and Constance enjoyed sailing almost as much as he did. But today she had grown weary after a couple of hours and retired to their small double berth to take a rest.

“Are ye hungry?” Adam asked her. “It has been hours since we have eaten.”

“Indeed, husband, I am,” she answered. “Let me open the basket and see what we have.”

She rose from the berth, and with the picnic basket in her arms she then went up the few stairs and out onto the deck. By now the sun was slightly past the yardarm, telling her that it was a couple of hours after noonday. Adam had dropped the sails and tied off the wheel, allowing the boat to drift gently with the current. The sky was still a wonderful Wedgewood blue, with a few passing cumulus clouds and a gentle, northeasterly breeze.
A perfect day for sailing,
she thought.

As Constance opened the picnic basket, she was again reminded of how much she appreciated Eli, Emily, and James Jackson, the Negro family who helped her and Adam care for Seaside. Emily was a wonderful cook, and when she learned that Constance and Adam were going out for a sail, she had insisted on preparing the meal and packing the picnic basket herself. Emily had kept its contents all very hush-hush, causing Constance to smile as she began removing the food.

Emily had packed some of her wonderful baked ham, tomatoes and cucumbers in vinegar, a loaf of bread, a wedge of hard cheese, and two bottles of red wine. At the bottom of the basket were plates, utensils, napkins, and stemware. Adam appeared from belowdecks bearing a teak folding table that he had made with lumber left over from the boat. After setting it up alongside one of the boat's rows of side cushions, Constance laid out the dishes and food.

This is so lovely,
she thought.
I wish our lives could always be so. But not long from now Adam will take sail again, and be gone for many months. I will miss him terribly, but the sea is as much a part of his blood as is his love for me, and I will always respect that.

Adam smiled as he poured two glasses of wine. They lifted their glasses and gently touched them together in a toast.

“To my only love,” Adam said. “Just as it always will be, no matter upon which of the seven seas I may roam.”

Constance took her first sip of very good wine.

“Thank you, my darling,” she said. “And always know that my heart feels the same.”

They then ate in silence for a time, as the sun crept nearer the western horizon and the gentle waves of the Atlantic slapped the hull of their boat. It would take them some time to get home again, but Constance never worried when out here with Adam. He was one of the foremost captains in all of New Bedford, a distinction not earned without many years of hard experience.

While pausing for a moment in her meal, Constance looked out over the waves. They were ever restless, much like the feeling that had been growing in her for some time now. Despite their best efforts, she and Adam were still childless, and the thought of that always tugged hard on her heart. She could not know whether the fault was his or hers, nor did it matter, she supposed, but children would be of great comfort to her during Adam's long voyages. The thought that she might be barren seemed to forever hang about her neck like a millstone, constantly reminding her that there was a great part of her life that remained unfulfilled. After letting go a sigh, she returned to her meal.

The change in her had not gone unnoticed by Adam. Her mannerisms and the look on her face were always unique to whenever this perceived failure was yet again bedeviling her. He reached out and took both of her hands into his.

“This again, is it?” he asked gently.

Constance nodded.

“I'm sorry, husband,” she answered. “But my lack of bearing a child still weighs heavily upon me. You could have had any woman you wanted, and only God knows why he blessed me so. But another woman would have surely given you children by now, and that's something that cannot be denied.”

As Adam watched her eyes well up, he took her in his arms. Trying his best to smile, he used one thumb to wipe away a tear.

“ 'Tis as much my fault,” he said. “These great and terrible chases for the whales keep me away from thee far too often, and for far too long. So do not blame thyself alone, for I too must shoulder part of the burden.”

Seeing that her sadness was still upon her, he took her face in his hands.

“It will happen, my love,” he said. “I just know it. We're both still young and healthy. And we must also remember that when it does happen, it will be in God's time, rather than of our choosing.”

After kissing her gently, he placed his palm upon her abdomen.

“For all we know, our child might be inside you already,” he said.

Then he gave her one of his roguish, sea captain smiles that she had always found so irresistible.

“And if not,” he said, “perhaps we should take the opportunity now, while we're alone.”

Constance suddenly blushed. Never in her life had she made love with Adam anywhere other than in their bed at Seaside.