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Thoughts of Isabelle and Danny’s letter both move to the back of my mind as I settle into a long night in front of the computer, looking into the dark web for any connections I can find.
17
Isabelle
It is late now, but I can’t sleep, the wind is howling around the outside of the cabin. There must be a storm coming, and not for the first time, I look at the ceiling of the cabin and hope that it will still be on in the morning. It looks secure enough, but it is rattling in the wind, and I am not sure when dad checked it last.
I have been working all night, sitting here at my laptop, going through everything we have in place for the Rothschild event. As I expected, Kelly and Beth have done a great job, and there really isn’t too much outstanding. It should be a fun, easy event, and will hopefully make Mrs. Rothschild’s charity a lot of money and place her firmly in the society pages of all the city’s papers.
It is close to midnight and my cell rings. I notice it is Richard again, so I let it go to voicemail. He hasn’t stopped, he is still calling numerous times per day. Sometimes he leaves a voice message, sometimes not. The times he does, I just delete them immediately, because I listened to the first few, and I no longer want to hear his voice. He goes from anger to begging, to a mix of the two, and it is draining, unnecessary, and futile, because I want nothing to do with him. I especially don’t like it when he is angry since I know I have done absolutely nothing wrong. He is just angry because he is not getting what he wants. Me.
He is such an ass.
Because I feel cheeky, I quickly go into my contacts and change his name to Little Dickie, the nickname that Kelly gave him, and I smirk. It makes me feel slightly better about his stalker behavior, and now whenever he calls me, I will laugh and smile instead of feeling dread.
Closing my laptop, I rub my eyes and start to yawn as I turn off the lights and head to bed. I enjoy being here, but it is quiet at night, and although I am not frightened, I am glad that Jake is close by in case I need anything.
Jake. Just the mere thought of him has my body temperature rising, but I need to keep it in check. I know he is older than me, and he was one of dad’s best friends. Surely, he sees me as nothing more than Danny’s little girl. Though I was hoping to see him tonight, he has been on my mind all day.
Shaking my head at the vision of him, I walk to the bathroom and wash my face, put on my sleepwear, and then slowly slip into my new sheets. My body immediately relaxes, but my mind continues to race with a steady cycle of thoughts about Jake, D.C., my business, and dad.
I love my business, I really do, and working with my two friends makes it all so much more fun, but I want more. Being here in Hancock, I feel so much more freedom. I am relaxed, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong. I am settled. I am not rushed. I love the peace and quiet and enjoy the fresh air and space.
I think about the diner and what Maria mentioned about the sale. The food could be so much better, and if the right owner stepped in, I am sure it would do a roaring trade and be a profitable business. It really has so much potential. A vision begins to form in my mind, my eyes close, and I lose myself to sleep.
* * *
My cell phone wakes me just after 8am in the morning, and even though I had a late night, I feel refreshed. The wind has died down and the sun is shining through the curtains this morning, so it looks like the weather didn’t eventuate into a storm like they predicted.
I let Richard’s phone call go to voicemail again and pray that he gives up soon. He certainly doesn’t like to be told no.
Given it is the weekend, and I finished most of my work yesterday, I quickly jump out of bed, eager to explore the forest this morning. I remember when I came to Hancock with dad years ago, there was a great place deep into the woods where a clearing sits, with the biggest raspberry bushes that have the juiciest fruit. While it has been years, I think I can still find my way there, and I am keen to make a fresh berry pie later today. A bit of alone time, walking through the trees and some fresh forest air will also do me wonders.
After a quick coffee, I am dressed in my denim shorts and a crisp white t-shirt, and pull on my new boots, thankful that I found a pair and can now walk around outside without turning my white Nikes black. Opening the door, I look around and see the sun still shining, so I take that as a good sign and begin my walk with a spring in my step, excited to explore a little. Given I don’t plan to be gone long, I don’t bother with a jacket or a water bottle. I am expecting my little expedition to be over in about an hour or two anyway.
Walking into the forest, my eyes are scanning the surroundings. It is even more beautiful than I remember. I am soon enveloped in the trees, and they are tall, elegant, and enchanting. They are large, strong, and bushy and so green and lush. They are so thick that they partially block the view of the sun from above. When I look up, all I can see is the trees forming a canopy, with a small amount of sky peeking through. I stop and stand in wonder; the scent of pine and the crunch of nettles underfoot is better than any meditation music.
There are no people rushing around, no horns honking, no chime of my cell phone, and no pollution from the traffic. It is amazing. City people would pay a lot of money to come to some place like this to destress and relax.
I take deep breaths and fill my lungs with the fresh cool air, and I begin to shiver a little as the sun disappears behind some clouds and the chill returns to the air. Rubbing my arms, I continue further into the forest, trying to follow my memory of where the clearing is. I am confident I can find it, and I really want to make that pie. It is an old recipe that dad taught me, and I am feeling nostalgic today. As I walk, the trees become thicker and more overgrown, and as I push through, I get scratches across my legs and arms.
Just part of being a country girl now, I guess.
I stop again to get my bearings and no longer hear any birds. The wind through the trees has gotten stronger, and I realize the prediction of the storm today may still be accurate, so I quicken my pace.
I start to wonder if I will ever find the clearing. It has been ten years since I was here so it could all be gone, but as I push past some trees and walk through the bushes, I see it, looking just as beautiful as I remember. Sure, it is more overgrown than the image I have in my memory, but there are a lot of raspberries, and I salivate. They are my favorite fruit. I step into the clearing slowly, looking around, and although it is still beautiful, in a very rugged way, the sky is dark now, the clouds low, and the wind is whipping and whistling around the trees.
I quicken my pace, walking into the clearing, and make my way to the raspberry bushes, filling the container I brought with me. The berries look amazing; fresh, juicy, and plump, but because I am hurrying, my arms are scratched from fingertips to elbows from the prickles in the bush. The best things are often the hardest to get.
The things I do for pie. I curse myself and my stupid ideas but fill my container with the ripe, juicy fruit.
As I finish, it begins to rain, softly at first and then really begins to pour down, and the temperature has dropped even more, making me shiver. Now not only am I sore from scratches, but I am wet and freezing. I make a quick dash back into the forest the way I came, and I feel protected by the trees a little.
I begin to walk as fast as I can, following the way I came, my teeth now chattering, and my skin full of goose bumps. My white t-shirt is now wet, sticking to my body and totally see through, my boots are muddy, and my shorts are damp.
I feel like I am walking for forever, when suddenly there is a loud flash and bang, and I jump ten feet into the air in fright. I watch in slow motion as a tree less than twenty feet in front of me begins to buckle and burn, having been hit by lightning, and my pulse quickens. The tree slams into the ground, taking a few smaller ones along with it, and I start to run.
Being in the middle of the woods during a lightning storm is one of the worst places to be, and I scramble to get away and back to the safety of my cabin. My hair has come loose and is stuck to my face, and my feet are sinking further and further into the wet forest floor with every step I take.
