Ophelia (Hamlet 2)

When he stood next to Lucas, Turner was a few inches shorter than her brother. Maria made a mental note to wear flats around her guest.

To Lucas’s annoyance, he couldn’t find any reason to turn the outsider away. Turner was polite, the perfect gentleman. Despite his odious accent, he said all the right things. Maria chose to give him the Blue Room—an upstairs guest room which showed her brother that she had some sense—and he turned in while Lucas was still at Ophelia.

He even paid in advance for the five days he planned to be in town.

Lucas offered to stay over, just in case. Maria laughed off his concerns. Then, when she realized how serious her brother was, she dragged him to the front door and shoved him out. He never spent the night when she had other guests. So what if Turner was an outsider?

She would be fine. And she was. For the first three days that he was staying at Ophelia.

On the third night, everything changed.

6

Strictly speaking, Ophelia was a bed and breakfast. Maria’s aim was to provide a warm and cozy bed, plus a hearty breakfast for her guests.

With the arrival of Mack Turner, she added something new: the outsider special. She couldn’t help herself. For no added fee, she offered a home-cooked meal for supper as well. She thought it would be a nice touch, something that might set her apart from other B&B’s.

And, okay, she secretly wanted to spend a little time with the outsider. His accent still grated on her nerves and, once or twice, she caught him looking at her in a strange way, but he was a model guest who humored her when it came to her questions about what life was like outside of Hamlet.

Turner did a lot of traveling. He never really came out and said what he did for a living, choosing to call himself a glorified delivery boy. Someone hired him when they had something they needed transported all over the country and wanted more of a personal touch.

She could appreciate that.

That was how he found his way into Hamlet. His truck was running down after being on the road so many days in a row. When it started to hiccup and belch black smoke, he got off at the first exit he saw. It was narrow and bumpy and he told Maria he was worried he was going to end up somewhere with backwoods hillbillies who tried to eat him or something. He was pleasantly surprised when he found Hamlet instead.

So surprised and impressed, he explained to Maria, that he decided to treat himself to the five-day stay in her bed and breakfast. He’d already made his last delivery for this trip and was on his way back to New York. Why not take a vacation where there was such beautiful scenery?

He punctuated that comment with a pointed look that made Maria more than a little uncomfortable.

On that third night, he thanked her for the cavatelli and broccoli she made for them for supper. A taste of home, he said after he told her it was some of the best Italian food he’d ever had. Coming from Staten Island, that was saying something, he explained.

She smiled at his compliments, cleaning up the kitchen around him. The looks were getting more frequent, more searching. When he broached the topic of paying for a couple more nights, she made a non-committal sound in reply.

She would never admit it to Lucas but, the longer the outsider stayed, the more she wanted him gone.

It seemed as if Turner would never go to sleep. He hung out in the kitchen later than he had the previous two nights. By the time he finally went upstairs to the Blue Room, it was well past ten.

Normally, Maria read by the light of her nightstand lamp until she was sleepy. That night, after playing hostess the last few hours left her drained, she changed into her nightclothes—an oversized t-shirt and a pair of summer shorts—and went right to sleep.

Maria wasn’t sure what woke her up. The movement of the blanket being pulled back from the bed. The rustle of her sheet. The dip in the mattress as someone climbed into her bed.

Someone was climbing into her bed!

Her eyes sprang open. She had just enough time to see the silhouette of a broad-shouldered man looming over her.

“Mr. Turner! What—”

He clamped his hand over her mouth. He brushed his body against hers before resting most of his weight on her side, pinning her to the bed. Maria lashed out with her left hand, trying to shove him away from her.

Turner was unmoveable. Frantically, she pushed. Her hand slid against his flesh. Beneath his palm, she moaned in fright. He was shirtless. And he was climbing on top of her.

“Shh, Maria. It’s okay. I know you want this.”

She moved her head back and forth. No, no, no! Her terror gave her strength. One quick shove and there was enough room for her to scratch at his chest with her nails.

He clucked his tongue, making a grab for her wrist with his free hand. He jerked her arm over her head, pinning her hand to her pillow. “That wasn’t nice,” he scolded. “I’m doing something nice for you. You don’t want to scratch me again, or maybe this won’t be as good for you as it’ll be for me.”

Oh God. Oh God.