Read Online The Old Cape Teapot by Barbara Eppich Struna - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Eppich Struna
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time to make sure the copy of the map was safe in my journal.
Brian pulled up to the airport’s sliding glass doors. “You know, finding that old map convinced me about your theory.” He gave me a big smile then stopped the Jeep and got out to get my bags. He stared at me for a second then shook his head. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Me neither.” I couldn’t wait to get back to the Cape to investigate further.
He opened the door for me. “I’ve a meeting in around thirty minutes. Are you all right if I leave you here?”
“You know me better than that; I’ll be fine. You should get going.”
He gave me another hug. “I love you. I’ll be home by Thanksgiving, if all goes well with the new orphanage.”
I held him for a few seconds longer and then let go. “I’m so proud of you and what you’ve done. I love you.”
He pointed at me from behind the wheel and said, “You be careful.” Then smiled, “Watch out for pirates on the Cape.”
I called after him as he drove away, “Be safe. God be with you and watch your back.”
When the airport doors closed behind me I couldn’t wait to call Paul. As soon as I checked in, the plane was ready to board for my first flight of the day to Puerto Rico. My cell phone showed only two bars for reception. I quickly tried to connect. “Paul?”
“Hi honey. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I should be home soon, if there are no problems.” I patted the backpack’s pouch that protected my journal and the map. “You won’t believe what I found.”
“Nancy? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”
“Oh okay, I love you. See you tonight.”
“Bye.” Paul’s voice trailed off into static as my cell phone decreased to no bars. Hopefully, in Miami, I’ll have a better connection; if not, I’ll try again in Boston.
Once I was settled into my seat on the first flight, I laughed, remembering how the plastic bag containing the conch shells proved to be no problem going through security. It was the walking down the narrow aisle of the plane that was difficult. Trying to hold the lumpy backpack ahead of me with one hand and the shells behind me with the other was daunting. The shells made clanking sounds as they hit against each other or bumped people in their seats. I’d smiled as sweetly as I could and repeated, “Sorry…oh, I’m sorry.” In fact, as I weaved and bobbed down the aisle carrying my treasures, I thought I recognized one of the guys from back at the ocean bar, towards the rear of the plane. At least, he looked like he was one of them. As I passed him I accidentally gave him a good hit on the shoulder. He’d returned a half-hearted smile, so I wasn’t worried that I’d really hurt him. I tried to be more careful on the next flight, knowing the kids would find the big conchs really cool.
It was almost six o’clock by the time I reached Boston. As the plane approached for landing, I could see the fall colors of the leaves. The air looked cool and crisp; a change from sandals to sneakers might be in order for the bus ride from Boston to Hyannis, where I expected Paul to be waiting for me. Once I land it should be less than three hours before I’m finally in my own bed …and I won’t need any netting.
***
1722
ANTIGUA
The sparse courtyard of Smith’s stately house was void of life except for palm trees that lined the inside of the outer walls. A tall and well-built dark skinned man strode towards Davis.
“Mr. Davis, sir?” asked the young man.
“Yes.”
A strong-looking hand picked up Davis’s travel bag, “If you would please come with me, I’ll direct you to your room.”
“Why thank you, boy. I’m mighty obliged.” Davis rose and followed.
The manservant led the Smiths’ guest down a long painted hallway lined with rooms on each side. He opened the last door and placed the guest’s leather bag onto the wooden-planked floor next to a small storage chest at the foot of a canopied bed. After opening
Brian pulled up to the airport’s sliding glass doors. “You know, finding that old map convinced me about your theory.” He gave me a big smile then stopped the Jeep and got out to get my bags. He stared at me for a second then shook his head. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Me neither.” I couldn’t wait to get back to the Cape to investigate further.
He opened the door for me. “I’ve a meeting in around thirty minutes. Are you all right if I leave you here?”
“You know me better than that; I’ll be fine. You should get going.”
He gave me another hug. “I love you. I’ll be home by Thanksgiving, if all goes well with the new orphanage.”
I held him for a few seconds longer and then let go. “I’m so proud of you and what you’ve done. I love you.”
He pointed at me from behind the wheel and said, “You be careful.” Then smiled, “Watch out for pirates on the Cape.”
I called after him as he drove away, “Be safe. God be with you and watch your back.”
When the airport doors closed behind me I couldn’t wait to call Paul. As soon as I checked in, the plane was ready to board for my first flight of the day to Puerto Rico. My cell phone showed only two bars for reception. I quickly tried to connect. “Paul?”
“Hi honey. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I should be home soon, if there are no problems.” I patted the backpack’s pouch that protected my journal and the map. “You won’t believe what I found.”
“Nancy? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”
“Oh okay, I love you. See you tonight.”
“Bye.” Paul’s voice trailed off into static as my cell phone decreased to no bars. Hopefully, in Miami, I’ll have a better connection; if not, I’ll try again in Boston.
Once I was settled into my seat on the first flight, I laughed, remembering how the plastic bag containing the conch shells proved to be no problem going through security. It was the walking down the narrow aisle of the plane that was difficult. Trying to hold the lumpy backpack ahead of me with one hand and the shells behind me with the other was daunting. The shells made clanking sounds as they hit against each other or bumped people in their seats. I’d smiled as sweetly as I could and repeated, “Sorry…oh, I’m sorry.” In fact, as I weaved and bobbed down the aisle carrying my treasures, I thought I recognized one of the guys from back at the ocean bar, towards the rear of the plane. At least, he looked like he was one of them. As I passed him I accidentally gave him a good hit on the shoulder. He’d returned a half-hearted smile, so I wasn’t worried that I’d really hurt him. I tried to be more careful on the next flight, knowing the kids would find the big conchs really cool.
It was almost six o’clock by the time I reached Boston. As the plane approached for landing, I could see the fall colors of the leaves. The air looked cool and crisp; a change from sandals to sneakers might be in order for the bus ride from Boston to Hyannis, where I expected Paul to be waiting for me. Once I land it should be less than three hours before I’m finally in my own bed …and I won’t need any netting.
***
1722
ANTIGUA
The sparse courtyard of Smith’s stately house was void of life except for palm trees that lined the inside of the outer walls. A tall and well-built dark skinned man strode towards Davis.
“Mr. Davis, sir?” asked the young man.
“Yes.”
A strong-looking hand picked up Davis’s travel bag, “If you would please come with me, I’ll direct you to your room.”
“Why thank you, boy. I’m mighty obliged.” Davis rose and followed.
The manservant led the Smiths’ guest down a long painted hallway lined with rooms on each side. He opened the last door and placed the guest’s leather bag onto the wooden-planked floor next to a small storage chest at the foot of a canopied bed. After opening
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