Island of Secrets and Scars

Chapter Eleven

Despite trekking half-way across the island, anger still burned in Cameron’s veins when she reached her cottage. Damn Ian Gauthier and Wes Robinson. She’d counted on them packing up and heading back home soon. Now this. Of course, Ian would find a way to stay that would leave her no choice. Oh, he and Wes would argue she had a choice. But when the decision was between her friend’s life and her own comfort, the answer was obvious.

She pushed open the door to her home. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe she lived in a home with no lock. Although she’d spent nearly half her adult life in tents before coming to the island, closing the door to her home at night without turning a lock had taken some getting used to. Especially when Keso moved out, leaving her alone with Arabella. But on this island, she had nothing to fear. Occasionally, an animal wandered too close to the cottage, but it couldn’t open doors anyway. Picturing an enormous cat trying to open her front door had her smiling as she entered her bedroom and froze.

The smile melted from her face. Her closet door was slightly ajar. The idea of a wild animal sneaking into her home no longer amused her. Reaching for the pole she kept by her bed, she slid to the side of the door. She wedged the pole into the opening and pushed the door open. Lifting the pole, she waited for whatever critter had slithered in and hid in the closet. When nothing emerged, she crept closer. The few items of clothing she owned appeared to be in their usual spots, but something seemed off. Stepping fully into the closet doorway, she scanned the slight space. A small fireproof safe sitting on the floor caught her eye. Cameron was no housekeeper, as evidenced by the thin layer of dust on the closet floor, but everything in her home had a place. And the fireproof box was not in its place. Instead of where it sat slightly askew with streaks through the dust on the lid, it should be in the corner—in the clean spot on the wooden floor.

Cameron’s heart dropped to her stomach. She sank to her knees, examining the safe. Nothing in the house had a lock on it, except this container. She and Keso kept sentimental as well as official documents inside, locked up until they needed them. Why would anyone try to look inside? Better yet, who would want to? Her heart sank. Keso. He never actually put anything inside. She wasn’t sure he even knew where she kept the key. What had he hoped to find inside? A part of her worried he’d discovered Ian’s identity. Would he look in the box, trying to confirm his suspicions instead of asking her? Likely. Despite the two of them sharing secrets no one else knew, they each had secrets of their own.

Which was why Cameron stored all of her mementos of her time with Ian in her desk at the clinic. After the islanders had built the space, she’d wasted no time moving her past out of the home she shared with Keso and Arabella. Somehow, she thought putting the few items she brought from her old life out of her house would help keep the memories from crowding the corners of her new life. She’d never been more wrong. Eventually, there hadn’t been enough room for Keso and the ghost of her past to coincide.

Would he come here looking for answers she’d been unable to give him? She shook her head at her ridiculousness. The simple answer was probably just that Keso needed something from the box. She couldn’t remember every item she’d placed in there over the years, but she thought there might be some documents about his boat and pictures of Keira and Brodie. Maybe, with his friend hurt and their conversation about his sister, he just wanted to reminisce. Even more reason she was glad she’d moved any proof of Ian’s identity to the clinic where no one would find it.

Testing the lock on the box, she pushed it back into the corner and rose to gather the few items she’d come for. With Arabella still at the clinic and Brodie needing round-the-clock care, she’d spend the night with them. Tomorrow, if Ara was well enough to come home, they’d spend the night in their cottage and leave Ian with Brodie. Maybe if he tired of waiting on the other man to wake up, he’d admit she didn’t need him and head home. If only.

With the last of her things in her bag, she turned to leave, then froze. The door leading from her room to the small porch caught her eye. The open door that led to the porch.

Normally Keso wouldn’t go through her bedroom to get in or out of the house. As a chill trickled down her spine, she didn’t think he’d done so today either.

* * *

Cameron slipped into the clinic, releasing a sigh of relief when she didn’t spot Ian or Wes. She peaked into Arabella’s room. Her daughter snuggled in her bed, napping peacefully. Esme’s voice drifted from down the hall. If she wanted, Cameron could make out the words the other woman spoke to her husband. Instead, she opted to give them privacy. She went into her office, thankful for a few moments of quiet to just breathe.

She still wanted to believe Keso had been the one in her home looking for whatever he kept in the box. The thought of him within her private space didn’t bother her. Technically, the house belonged to him. He’d grown up there with his mother and sister. After Arabella’s birth, he’d insisted the girl live in the house. The arrangement had made perfect sense when he and Cameron had been together. The set up grew trickier once they broke up. Still, Keso wanted Ara to live in the house. And although he loved the girl, he knew enough to know he couldn’t care for her the way Cameron could. So, instead of sending Cameron to find a new home, he left, and she and Ara remained. Still, Keso came and went as he pleased. Cameron didn’t mind. She genuinely liked Keso. Even loved him. Just not enough.

Slumping into her desk chair, she cast her gaze on the lower drawer of her desk. Yes, she loved Keso, but not enough to part with the memories she kept hidden from him. Not enough to move on from a love and a life she still craved. Before she could think better of it, she slipped her key into the drawer lock and turned. The lock gave easily, and the drawer slid open. She pulled the wooden box out and sat it atop the desk. Her hands trembled as she fingered the gold and red scrolls etched on top. The box seemed so unassuming from the outside. No one would suspect inside lie all her best and worst memories.

“Oh, Bondye mwen,” Esme cried.

Oh my God.

Cameron jumped. Her heart racing in her chest.

“Doctor. Doctor.”

Cameron sprang from her chair and raced down the hall. Esme stood, clutching Brodie’s hand to her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Cameron’s stomach twisted with worry. She’d fought to keep Brodie here with her. She’d never forgive herself if she lost him now.

“What is it?” She rushed to his free side, checking the machines that monitored his breathing and pulse.

“He squeezed my hand,” his wife practically shouted.

Cameron straightened from examining the unconscious man. Esme’s screams had been happy. She sighed.

“Did you hear me? He squeezed my hand.” Esme’s body vibrated with energy.

Cameron smiled. “I did. I’m processing.” Her heart still beat too fast in her chest, and her eyes warmed with tears of relief. She’d yet to allow herself to consider the real possibility of losing Brodie. For a moment, she’d thought the worst.

“He’s going to wake up now, right?” Esme smiled at her, eager for reassurance.

God, how she wanted to tell her friend her husband would wake. She wished she could assure her he’d meet his new child and they’d live happily ever after, but she wouldn’t lie. “I can’t promise you that, Es.”

The other woman’s body sagged. “Couldn’t you just tell me yon ti manti?”

A little lie.

Cam shook her head. “I can tell you what I want and believe though.”

Esme blinked away new tears, sending them spilling over her lashes.