The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

In Elijah’s long absence, I fell in love. His name is Kristian. He is a strong, kind man who makes me laugh. I’d nearly forgotten how, you see. When I am with Kristian, I know everything will be all right somehow. I know having an affair was wrong, but he saved me. He gave me back myself and I find I can’t be sorry for that. He also gave me Iris. I suspect Elijah knows Iris is not his daughter, though he has yet to accuse me of anything.

Today the war is over. It should be a time for celebrating. Instead Kristian is waiting for us at the barn at the top of the hill, waiting for us to arrive, and then we are all going to be together. We are going to leave Jewell Cove and go far away to become the happy, loving family I always wanted and that I know you wanted for me. I want you to remember the good reasons why I’m leaving—for love and happiness and contentment.

I don’t have much time, but I hid a keepsake box in the nursery under the floor. There you will find the letters Kristian wrote to me, a lock of his hair, and his father’s watch that he gave to me before he left last time. Perhaps you can find it and keep it for me … when we meet again.

Tomorrow we’ll be on a ship to a new life. When that happens, remember, Mother—and Daddy—how much I love you. I will think of you both often, and write when I can and share stories of Marian and Iris’s escapades. And maybe one day we can all come back and sit in the rose garden again.

Your loving daughter,

Edith

By the time Abby got to the end she was crying. The elegant, curved writing was filled with love and affection for the two girls—and for her parents. Kristian had been waiting in the barn, then. Her vision made sense now—the suitcase with the clothes scattered about, Marian in her little jacket hiding in Edith’s skirts. Edith had died on the stairs. And Iris had been sent away to live with Edith’s parents, never knowing the truth.

Leaving Marian behind. To live with a man Edith proclaimed was angry and unpredictable and unkind. Maybe, despite the obvious wealth, Iris had been the lucky one after all.

Finding out the truth—solving the mystery—should have made Abby happy. Instead it left her feeling empty and wanting because having the answers changed nothing. In fact, she felt like she was somehow losing her grandmother all over again, in addition to losing a family she hadn’t even known.

* * *

Abby put on her running shoes and her blue sweat jacket and made the trek back up the mountain to the summit. It was her favorite spot on the property, wild and free. She breathed deeply as she gazed at the view. It was easy here. Her chest felt like it was expanding and she felt taller. Here, she realized, she was in absolute control because it was the one place she felt safe to be herself. She was going to miss it.

The barn stood behind her, dark and dilapidated. She examined it, thinking about Edith and Kristian and all she’d learned. How horrible it must have been to find him there, to discover his terrible secret. How exciting to think of him waiting to whisk her away to a new life. She wondered if the barn held other memories, too. Of secret trysts and whispered promises.

Kristian had been Edith’s happiness. Her home was where he was, because Edith had been prepared to uproot her entire existence to be with him. She’d even been willing to leave her family behind. What did that sort of devotion feel like?

A chilly breeze blew at Abby’s back and she turned, startled to see black thunderclouds closing in rapidly. When she’d left the house, fat, puffy clouds had been floating carelessly on a pale sea of blue. She’d known showers were forecast for the afternoon but she hadn’t expected them to blow in this soon.

If she ran now, she might make it back to the house before getting soaked, but she doubted it. Already a gray sheet of rain was trailing behind the clouds, obscuring the view beyond. Lightning forked, a searing, jagged jolt touching the ground. Only a few seconds elapsed before it was followed by an earthshaking grumble of thunder. It was coming up the coast fast. There was no way she’d make it home before getting dre

nched.

The first cold, fat drop hit her face.

She would have to wait it out in the barn.

The splatters came faster as she jogged to the old structure. The door opened with a drawn-out creak, the hinges rusted from years of neglect and the salty moisture of the sea air. She stepped inside, her heart pounding in the darkness. Pinpoints of dim light shot through holes in the roof and walls, illuminating dust motes. Hay had been left here at some point, the scent old and musty.

She jumped when she heard the flap of wings overhead, her breathing coming in short gasps. It was just a swallow, though, dipping and flitting about before settling in its nest on one of the high rafters, waiting out the storm just like her.

She walked farther inside, the sound of the rain muted against the old roof. It was bound to leak so she kept her eyes open for holes and tried to avoid the drips. The pinpricks of light were gone now, leaving the space in dark shadow as the black clouds completely blocked out the sun. The wind howled around the empty spaces and gaps in the building, a mournful cry that Abby felt clear to the soles of her feet.

Something moved, just inside her field of vision on her right. For the space of a second her body froze and she couldn’t breathe. She knew instinctively she wasn’t alone.

She remembered Art mentioning bears liking the blackberries … surely one wouldn’t come into the barn, would it? Her body was paralyzed with fear even as her pulse leaped, thrumming so loudly it pounded in her ears. She turned her head to see what was watching her. Poised to run if she had to …

It was a who, not a what, that stood in the back corner. She recognized Kristian from the blue eyes and fair hair. He wore a brown traveling suit, very ordinary, much the same quality as Edith’s plain blue dress, and a suitcase sat beside him on the floor. They’d been looking to blend in, not stand out, hadn’t they?

She shouldn’t be surprised to find him here. If she’d seen Edith, why not Kristian, too? Her pulse steadied. She wasn’t frightened of him. Instead a sweeping sadness washed over her as she swallowed thickly. It felt like the end of a dream. The death of hope.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice echoing strangely in the open space. “Edith isn’t coming, Kristian.”

The light in the barn changed, lighting up like a camera flash. Abby’s eyes widened as she stared out the open door. Hail drummed against the barn, hard pellets of ice that bounced off the ground like white marbles. And then there was another blinding light and a resounding crack that filled her ears like a gunshot.

Abby dropped to the floor, covering her head with her hands as splinters of wood fell all around her, the vision of Kristian temporarily forgotten. The noise was deafening now, odd creaking and snapping as everything surrounding her tilted. She scrambled forward on her knees, rushing toward the only open space she could see—the door.

She was nearly there when the weight of the roof shifted in a gust of wind and the walls beneath it trembled from the strain. With one heavy sigh, it all leaned until the wall buckled—and the barn came tumbling down around her.

CHAPTER 19