Page 114 of In the Pursuit of Haven
“I’ve got lots of friends,” she said. “I usually stay on their couches when Dad gets too hard to handle. Not usually with a cat and a dog, but… they’re laidback. It’ll be fine.”
“Good, keep us posted.” He hung up and turned to me.
We’ needed to find a way inside one of these cottages. The storm was coming.
Chapter Thirty
“Ithink that’s Ruth’s boathouse over there!” Jessie pointed to the shack on stilts near the water’s edge.
With how high these waves were reaching, her place didn’t seem like the ideal safe house. The boulder named Philip was the only thing standing in the way of that stack of lumber getting swallowed by this storm.
“I saw a door below there.” Jessie clasped my hand and sped for the propped-up lodging. Most of building stood on stilts, though the entrance was below. Rain broke from the clouds in a torrent. We weren’t a moment too soon before we slid under the building, gasping as water pummeled the shelter on all sides of us. Inside our little cave under stilts, we were safe for the time being.
Jessie worked on getting the shack’s door open as I leaned against the boulder that closed us in on one side. Shivering, I looked through my backpack, making sure everything was in one piece. Haven’s notebooks were still dry. It was a relief. I rearranged everything in my bag to make sure it stayed that way.
My husband shouted out in frustration on the other side of me. “This wood is oak. We’re not getting through that.” He twisted around, looking hopeful. “You can’t pick locks…?”
“I’m not a cat burglar either,” I reminded him. “We’re fine under here!”
Surrendering for the time being, he joined me against the boulder, running his hands down my wet arms. “You’re freezing!” He didn’t sound happy.
“Well?” I met his eyes in challenge. “What are you going to do about it?”
Half laughing, half grumbling, he slid down the rock wall and pulled me into his lap while we hunkered down from the elements. His jeans and t-shirt were sopping wet, but beneath that was the heater I’d come to expect.
Thank goodness! I was already shivering.
A loud crash of thunder almost got swallowed by the waves outside. Jessie’s chest moved under his steady breathing as he pressed me closer. His labors outside only made his earthy cologne of cedar and lemon stronger. It was part of what lured me to him the first time we’d been stranded on an island like this.
He was all Jessie, and now his scent was becoming my own.
My husband set his chin against the top of my head. “You sorry you decided to team up with me?”
I shook my head stubbornly, but not too vigorously.
I didn’t want to slap him with the wet strands of my hair. He sighed and ran his fingers down my neck. “At least we can agree on that.”
Another flash of lightning lit up the dark tunnel where we sat. I stiffened when I saw the writing etched into the boulder ahead of us.
“It’s okay,” Jessie said. “If they find our lifeless bodies, at least they’ll have something else to put in Wiki about Tinker’s Island.”
I nudged him. “It’s not that!” I could barely get out the words. My excitement choked the air out of me. “L-look!”
In front of us on the granite were the names Philip and Mary L’Anglois.
He stilled as he took it in. “Do you know who that is?” he asked.
“Yes, Philip and Mary English,” I said. I couldn’t keep still, I was so thrilled. When Philip had first settled in Salem…during Crabb’s lifetime by the way, he’d changed his French surname into the English translation, which also happened to be“English.”
This was exactly the clue we were looking for in these rocks. “This couple was Anglican, which was basically the Church of England in a time and place when it was not good to be anything that reeked of loyalty to the Crown.”
What was Crabb thinking givingthema Shepherd’s Relic… unless they’d proven they valued the colonies’ independence more?
That gave me pause, but not for long. “They were disgustingly rich, devoted to God, and were still viewed with suspicion and distrust.” I pointed to their surname. “You see, that’s French. No one trusted anyone from France after they incited the Indian wars against the settlers.”
Jessie’s eyes widened. “The French did what?”
“It’s complicated—who didn’t do that stuff back then? Anyway, that’s why when Philip first arrived in the colonies, he threw out his identity like he was in the witness relocation program, and you can be sure he did his best to keep his religion under wraps.”
