A Treasure Worth Keeping (2 page)

Read A Treasure Worth Keeping Online

Authors: Kathryn Springer

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Love stories, #Historical, #Romance - General, #Fiction - Religious, #Christian, #Religious - General, #Christian - Romance, #Religious, #Christian fiction, #Christian Life, #Tutors and tutoring, #Teenage girls, #Adventure stories, #Treasure troves, #Adventure fiction, #Teachers, #Large type books

BOOK: A Treasure Worth Keeping
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Evie?”

She froze midstep.

Her dad may have been a bit forgetful but apparently there was nothing wrong with his hearing.

Evie winced and caught her lower lip between her teeth. All the times she’d preached to her students that honesty was the best policy came rushing back. She pressed the glasses against her cheeks to put out the fire in them. The downside of having red hair and fair skin. She couldn’t hide a blush to save her life.

“I brought you a reward for working so hard,” she called through the screen door.

Patrick appeared on the other side and Evie could see the furrows in his forehead, as deep as stress cracks in a wall.

“So, did you sell some of those salt shakers?” Evie asked, deliberately keeping her voice cheerful to cover up the guilt nipping at her conscience.

Patrick’s mouth tightened. “No. He wasn’t interested in buying anything.”

“Who—”

“Let’s take this out to the garden, shall we? You can enjoy the fruit of last summer’s labor while you take a break. Some of the plants are already coming up, and it’s going to be beautiful.”

Evie handed him one of the glasses and saw his fingers tremble as he reached for it. Worry scoured the lining of her stomach.

“Dad, is everything all right?” She tried to piece together the fragments of the conversation she’d overheard. It had sounded like someone else wanted to come along on the fishing trip. But why would that upset him? And what did Sophie Graham have to do with it?

“Right as rain.”

“There’s nothing right about rain unless you have an umbrella,” Evie said promptly. It was an old joke between them, and she relaxed when he smiled.

Maybe her concern over the fishing trip was making her read more into the conversation she’d overheard. It was possible her father was simply a little uptight because he was taking a vacation for the first time in—Evie did a quick calculation—twelve years. Not since the year her mother was killed.

Chapter Two

E
vie had her alarm set for five-thirty. Not to make sure Patrick ate his oatmeal but to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Else.

She pulled on her robe and slipped into the kitchen, only to discover her sneaky father had already left. The coffee was on and he’d left a note taped to the refrigerator.

 

I’ll call you as soon as I can. Relax. Love, Dad.

 

Evie snatched the note off the fridge and frowned. The faint smell of bacon and eggs lingered in the air. No wonder he hadn’t wanted her to get up before he left. He’d wanted to eat his artery-clogging breakfast without a witness.

And what exactly did he mean by
relax?
Was she supposed to relax because she was on summer vacation? Or was she supposed to relax while knowing her dad, who thought one pair of socks per day was sufficient, was going on a two-week fishing trip with Jacob Cutter? A former Marine. The two men had known each other only six months, and already Jacob was pushing Patrick out of his familiar routine. Evie didn’t like Jacob Cutter. Her dad was a scholar, not an outdoorsman. A retired high school English teacher. What was Jacob thinking?

Her doubts about the trip had increased the evening before while Patrick packed his things. Evie had noticed an important piece of equipment missing from the gear piled by the door. When she’d called his attention to it, Patrick had laughed self-consciously and disappeared outside to rummage around in one of the outbuildings, finally returning with a fishing pole.

Shortly after watching her dad hook his thumb on one of the lures, Evie had had a burst of inspiration. She could go with them. As the cook. Keeper of the campfire. That sort of thing. When she’d brought it up to Patrick, he’d looked less than enthusiastic. In fact, he’d looked slightly offended and had reminded her that the reservations were for
two
people and they couldn’t add someone else this late in the game. Which meant the owner of the black pickup truck who’d tried to coerce Patrick and Jacob into taking him along wasn’t going, either.

No wonder Patrick had run out on her so early in the morning. Maybe he’d thought she’d stow away in the backseat.

Too bad she hadn’t thought of that sooner.

If only her dad would have mentioned the fishing trip to
her
before he’d brought it up to Caitlin and Meghan, who’d both thought it was a great idea. Of course. They always had their passports ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“Dad never does anything.” Meghan had listened to her concerns and gently brushed them aside. “He loves to go to auctions and estate sales and putter in the store, but maybe he’s decided he needs to expand his interests. You know, find a new hobby.”

Caitlin, as usual, had been more direct. “Don’t be such a worrywart, Evie. Dad wants to go fishing, not skydiving. If you see a parachute in the trunk of his car instead of a fishing pole, call me.”

It was easy for her sisters to live their own lives and let their dad live his. Both of them had already moved away from home when Laura McBride had died unexpectedly. Meghan had been a freshman in an out-of-state college, and Caitlin a graduate student in France for a semester abroad. Evie had just turned fourteen and she’d been the only one left to take care of Patrick.

Lord, you’ll take care of Dad, won’t you? Keep him safe and comfortable, just like I would if I were with him? Don’t let that reckless Jacob Cutter try to talk him into doing anything dangerous. And help him remember to change his socks if they get wet.

Patrick had always encouraged her to talk to God, her heavenly Father, as easily and naturally as she talked to him. Some people might think she was crazy to talk to God about wet socks, but Evie figured if God knew when a sparrow fell to the ground, He cared about the details of His children’s lives, too. No matter how small.

She opened her eyes, ready to start the day right. Beach Glass officially opened at ten o’clock, giving her time to weed the garden and go into town to pick up a gallon of milk and some eggs.

She’d just make sure to check the expiration date before she bought them.

Cooper’s Landing was five miles from the antique shop, yet Patrick thought nothing of hopping on a rickety old bicycle and riding it into town. Evie kicked the tire with her toe, and when it wobbled back and forth like a toddler taking those first precious steps, she decided to drive her car instead.

Johnson’s Market stuck to the basics—not bothering to cater to the tourists who used Cooper’s Landing as a brief resting point to fill up their vehicles and stretch their legs a bit.

The sandy stretch of beach, strewn with sculptures of satin-smooth driftwood, drew Evie’s attention when she stepped outside the store with her purchases. Ever since Patrick had moved to what Caitlin referred to as “the end of nowhere,” Evie had been fascinated by Lake Superior. She’d grown up in a suburb of Milwaukee, where the only connection she’d had with water was the local swimming pool. But here, right in front of her eyes, the lake stretched across the horizon in variegated shades of blue. And even though today the water was a comforting shade of indigo, it could change with a turn of the wind.

A glance at her watch told her there was time for a short walk down to the dock. She tucked her groceries into the backseat of her car and headed toward the water. Picking her way down the rocky bank, Evie vaulted over a small ledge of rock and practically fell on top of someone.

“Hey!” A girl rose up from a crouched position. “What do you think you’re…Oh, sorry.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Evie apologized. “I was staring at the water and didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay.” The words came out grudgingly.

She looked to be in the same age range as Evie’s students, so Evie knew better than to take the edge in her tone personally. The girl hugged a sketchbook against her chest, and a metal case on the ground by her feet revealed a rainbow of oil pastels.

“You’re drawing the lake? Or the boat?”

“The lake. The boat’s kind of ugly.”

Evie couldn’t argue with that. The boat tied to the dock was as plain and drab as a cardboard box. And looked about as seaworthy.

“I admire anyone with artistic ability.” Evie held out her hand. “Evangeline McBride. Science geek.”

The girl’s eyes met hers shyly and then she smiled. “My name’s Faith. I’m a jock.”

“What sport?”

Faith shrugged. “You name it.”

“But Lake Superior inspired you, huh?”

“No, I’m being forced. It’s art class.” Faith peeked at the sketch pad and made a face. “It’s terrible.”

Evie knew better than to push. If Faith wanted her to take a look at her drawing, it had to be her idea.

“Okay. Tell me the truth.” Faith suddenly flipped it over for Evie to see.

“It’s…” Evie’s voice trailed off when she saw the gleam of humor in Faith’s eyes. She’d colored the entire page blue. “You captured it perfectly, I’d say. A closeup of the water.”


Very
close up!”

Faith giggled and Evie joined in.

“Faith!”

The voice behind them startled Evie. Her foot slipped on the rocks, sending an avalanche of stones skipping down the bank.

“Hi, Sam.” Faith’s giggle changed to a bored monotone.

Evie looked up and sucked in her breath. The man looming above them blotted out the sun. Evie could tell immediately that he and the girl were related. Both of them had silver-gray eyes and thick, shadow-dark hair. Faith’s eyes were still warm with laughter, but the other pair trained on Evie were as chilly as the water.

“I’m Evie McBride.” She scrambled to her feet to regain her dignity, but it didn’t matter. She barely reached the man’s broad shoulders. “Your daughter and I sort of…bumped…into each other.”

Sam looked from the slender redhead to his niece in disbelief. He’d been looking for Faith for the past hour—so he could ground her for the rest of her life. He was pretty sure he had the authority. Although Faith might not agree. The truth was, they hadn’t been agreeing about much the past few days, and Sam was at the end of his rope. Moodiness he could cope with, but Faith had started to disappear whenever the opportunity presented itself. Like an hour ago.

They’d been staying with Jacob, who’d left early that morning on a fishing trip, and Sam had brought Faith into town with him while he got the
Natalie
ready to launch. This would be the first time they’d had an opportunity to take the boat out. While he’d checked the engine, his wily niece had pulled another disappearing act.

He hadn’t expected to find her in the company of Patrick McBride’s daughter. The uptight schoolteacher his dad had warned him about. But somehow Jacob had forgotten to mention that Evie McBride was a
beautiful
uptight schoolteacher.

And he hadn’t expected to hear Faith giggling the way twelve-year-old girls were supposed to giggle. The sound had thrown him off balance. He realized he hadn’t seen Faith smile or heard her laugh for a long time. Too long. Dan’s accident had been like a scalpel—going in deep and removing the laughter from all of them.

“I’m Sam Cutter—”

“He’s my uncle, not my dad,” Faith interrupted.

Sam exhaled silently. No one knew better than he did that he couldn’t fill Dan’s shoes. His twin brother had been a great dad, and all Sam could be was what he’d always been—a doting uncle. But lately he found himself wondering if that was enough to keep Faith from drowning in grief. When Dan had been injured, she’d taken a leave of absence from school. Now she was so far behind, the principal had said the only way she could pass to the next grade level was by completing her homework over the summer. What bothered Sam the most was that Faith didn’t seem to care.

“Cutter? Are you related to Jacob Cutter?”

“I’m his son.” Sam noticed the instant change in Evie’s expression.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Sure it was. Jacob hadn’t been kidding. Evie McBride
didn’t
approve of him. He wondered why. “Dad mentioned you’re minding the store while he and Patrick are fishing.”

“I don’t know a lot about antiques, but I do know how to dust them.” She glanced down at Faith and winked.

Faith grinned back.

Maybe Ms. McBride came across as a little stuffy, but she definitely had a way with kids.

“Faith, are you ready? We should be long gone by now.” Sam stared his niece down, not ready to let her off the hook for disappearing on him.

Faith shifted uncomfortably and he saw a flash of good old-fashioned guilt in her eyes.
Good.

“Are you house-sitting for your dad?” Evie directed the question at him, her voice polite but strained.

Sam suppressed a smile. With that tone, she sounded just like a prim schoolteacher. All she needed was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and a bun. They’d go really well with the heavy cardigan she had buttoned up to her chin and the ankle-length denim skirt.

“We’re staying on the
Natalie.
” Faith pointed to the boat nodding drowsily in the waves.

“You’re living on
that?

Sam bristled at what sounded like an accusation. It scraped against the doubts he was already having about bringing Faith along. So the
Natalie
wasn’t the best-looking boat in the harbor. And maybe she didn’t have all the latest bells and whistles. But he’d checked her over, and she was sturdy. The engine had purred like a kitten before settling into a reliable, even hum.

“A few days on the water and a few days at the cabin.” Sam lifted one eyebrow, daring her to comment.

Evie McBride’s chin lifted, accepting his challenge. “I don’t think—”

“You should come with us sometime,” Faith broke in, leaving both adults momentarily speechless.

“That’s sweet of you, Faith, but…” Evie turned and stared, almost mesmerized, at the water. “Beach Glass is going to keep me pretty busy over the next few weeks.”

She was afraid of the water, Sam realized in surprise. His gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt, where the toes of a sensible pair of shoes peeked out. Not exactly the type of footwear designed for splashing in the surf. He hid another smile.

“I should get going, too. The shop opens at ten.” Evie’s expression softened when she looked at Faith. “Be careful when you’re out on the lake.”

Sam expected Faith to give Evie her signature don’t-fuss-over-me-I’m-not-a-little-kid-anymore look, but his niece nodded solemnly.

“Sam knows what he’s doing.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open at the confidence he heard in her voice. Before he had a chance to bask in the glow, she skipped down the rocks toward the dock. “I can’t keep up with her.”

He realized he’d said the words out loud when he felt Evie touch his arm. The warmth of her fingers soaked into his skin. When he glanced down at her, he saw a knowing look in her eyes.

“Don’t try to keep up with her.” Evie smiled. A genuine smile that sparkled like sunlight dancing on the water and had a curious effect on his pulse. For the first time, he noticed a dusting of cinnamon freckles on her nose. “The secret is to stay one step
ahead
of her.”

 

On the way back to the cottage, Evie couldn’t stop thinking about Faith Cutter.
And Sam.
Although she didn’t want to think about him. Anyone who would take a child out in a boat on a lake as unpredictable as Superior for any length of time had to be a live-on-the-edge type of person. And in the end, that kind of person always hurt the ones closest to them, whether they meant to or not.

Just like her mother.

Growing up, Evie had loved hearing the story of her parents’ romantic courtship. Her father and mother had met in the principal’s office of the local high school. Patrick had been a first-year English teacher and Laura McIntyre—
Officer
Laura McIntyre—had been invited to talk to the students for career day. The principal had asked Patrick to give Laura a tour of the school before the assembly started.

Other books

The Front Runner by Patricia Nell Warren
Our a Cappella by Yessi Smith
The Bite Before Christmas by Jeaniene Frost, Lynsay Sands
The Dream-Maker's Magic by Sharon Shinn
The Praxis by Walter Jon Williams
The Voice by Anne Bishop
My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout