“Lighten up, Lizzie. You’re not the first person to get seasick. You actually held out quite well.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment or what, but she forgot when they reached the beach and the sparkling sand was spread out before them, drastically different from the rough, rocky shoreline the seals called home.
“Oh, this is beautiful!” Breakers lapped on the shore and gulls circled overhead, wheeling and crying. “Like if you got stranded on a desert island and there was no one for miles and miles.”
Josh put down the cooler and took off his ruck. “I always like to think of it as it might have been a hundred and fifty years ago. Whether or not there is treasure buried here, I imagine the ships and cannons and battles. Charles Arseneault was rumored to use the island to smuggle his goods. And people.”
Josh reached inside his pack for a blanket. He spread it on the sand and sat down, then patted a spot beside him. “Charles was a Southerner, and he hated what the war did to the place he loved. At the same time, he wasn’t all that comfortable with slavery. So he smuggled supplies past the blockade into the Confederacy and snuck slaves out and into the North.”
“Talk about playing both sides,” Lizzie commented, pulling her knees up to her chest. When Josh had begun to tell her this story on July Fourth, sh
e’d been intrigued. Now that she was actually on the island? She was dying to know more.
“Oh, there’s no question he was in it for profit,” Josh said, grinning. “He made a killing. Until he met his wife. She was something, I guess. They met when she was here on the island, helping send slaves onward up to Canada. They say the love of a good woman … It certainly seemed to turn him around.” Josh grinned suggestively. “Maybe they came out here for lovers’ trysts, too. It would definitely explain the island’s nickname.”
“And so he buried treasure here? Why? What would he have to hide if he just, well, quit?”
“Who knows? Evidence? Contraband? Secrets? That’s what’s kept the legend going all this time. No one really knows what was supposed to be in that treasure. Money that he’d come back for later? He settled in Jewell Cove and never seemed to be hurting for coin. Charles and his wife were both risk takers, passionate about their beliefs. It makes for some interesting reading. You can always check out the historical society for more if you’re interested.”
Her, dig around at the historical society? It was kind of funny, really. Certainly not her speed. And yet … the story intrigued her somehow. It was adventurous and romantic. And it gave the sleepy little town of Jewell Cove a smidgen of glamour when all was said and done.
Her stomach and head were starting to come around, so she nodded at the cooler. “So, you brought us a picnic.”
“Of course. Food always tastes better outdoors and it’s not like you can find a drive-thru around here.”
He opened the cooler and handed her a small bag of buns and a rectangular plastic dish, cold from the ice inside. She peeked inside the lid and gaped. “You brought the stuff to make lobster rolls?” Another container held an assortment of vegetables: carrots, celery, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes. “Josh, this is amazing. Who on earth was open early enough for you to pick this up before we left?”
“Open? Wow, give me a lot of credit, why don’t you. I made the salad at six thirty this morning. Bought the stuff last night so it was as fresh as possible.”
She looked over at him. “You made this?”
He grinned, and she imagined his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “Of course I made it. I can cook, you know. What did you think, I lived on mac and cheese and hot dogs?”
Lizzie made a face at the thought of that as a regular diet. “Sorry. I just thought with the take-out containers…” The salad was packed in a dish with a black bottom and clear top.
“Chinese food. That I don’t make from scratch, but the dishes come in handy.”
She put the lid beneath the bottom of the dish and picked up the roll, using a spoon to stuff it full of the tender lobster meat and sauce. At the first bite she knew he wasn’t lying. The man could cook. Perfectly seasoned, the lobster salad was scrumptious. The bread she could only assume came from the Main Street Bakery. No baked goods she’d ever had anywhere could compare to theirs, and top of the list was their bread.
“So, is it okay?” Josh opened his roll and filled it with the salad.
“It’s perfect. I’m feeling a lot better, too. I think you were right. Having something to eat will help.”
“You won’t find the trip back bad, I promise. It really is the rocking motion when you’re stopped that does it.”
She didn’t want to think about that right now, so she focused on the roll, wiping her fingers on a napkin Josh handed over along with another bottle of water. She’d figured that was it for their lunch, but then he took out another dish and two forks. “So I didn’t make this,” he said, grinning. “I totally bought this at the diner last night. Gus’s blueberry cream cheesecake is too good to resist.”
The cake had a cinnamon crumb topping, and the first bite was pure heaven. “Oh my God,” she murmured, dipping her fork into the dish once more. “That’s fantastic.”
“You know, that’s something I’ve noticed about you, Lizzie.” He rested on his hands and squinted over at her. “You really let yourself enjoy things.”
She chewed, swallowed, and pondered that for a moment. “I’m not sure if that’s a criticism or a compliment.”
He chuckled. “Compliment. I’m not real good at that myself. I kind of had the fun beaten out of me for a while. I like to think I’m slowly getting it back.”
Lizzie looked down at the cake, torn between finishing the slice and focusing on Josh. With more than a little regret she put the lid on the dish and leaned forward to put it in the basket. “You can’t say something like that without me wanting to ask the follow-up,” she said quietly. She spun on the blanket so she was facing him and sat Indian-style with her elbows on her knees.
“I told you that I found peace by taking out my boat, that sort of thing. Truth is, bit by bit I hid myself away, and I haven’t really opened myself up again.”