Chapter 9
Faith

Faith signed up for yet another Georgia community forum. She copied and pasted her plea for the sixth time that morning.

My name is Faith Capshaw, 26F. I was born in Eureka, California. But my father was born on Saint Rose and had a sister named Lydia Capshaw. I’ve heard I had a paternal aunt and female cousin, around my age, who were on Saint Rose in the summers about 20 years ago. I’m looking for anyone who might be related . . .

So far, she had no bites. Nobody seemed to know her aunt Lydia except those terrifying redneck “cousins” of hers. And George, though he said he knew of her, not that he knew her. Still, he’d gone to her funeral and made it sound like there was a decent turnout.

Faith didn’t know what she expected to figure out even if she did find someone who knew Lydia. What would she ask? Why did she leave everything to me? Who could answer that? Where’s my other aunt? My cousin? Why didn’t we keep in touch? She watched the forums fill up with comments that had nothing to do with her. It seemed like all over Georgia and the South, people were reconnecting.

Faith tried searching for Capshaws in Georgia on Facebook, but it was such a common surname there was no way she could wade through them all. Besides, what would I even message to them—do you think we might be related?

She closed her eyes and tried to picture Lydia’s face or the face of her other aunt but came up blank. She remembered an outfit or a pair of shoes. But it seemed like her memories were from so long ago, she’d been so small that she only knew people by their smell and clothes. “It’s pointless,” she said to herself.

She waited until the firm opened back in California to call and check in.

“Faith!” the receptionist squealed. “Mr. Parsons is out for a breakfast meeting with a client this morning, and Hank won’t be in until ten o’clock. But I’ll be sure and tell them you called.”

“Thanks,” Faith said. She could hear the familiar sounds in the background. The unique ring of the phones and the typical morning chatter. She didn’t feel any twinge of longing at all. Instead, she was flooded with relief not to be there. Man, I really have lost my taste for corporate law.

Not that she felt at home here. It was clear that Alex didn’t want her around. I mean, my God, he moved into a cabin to get away from me! Mae was sweet, of course, but Faith didn’t know how much of that was from ingrained southern hospitality. After all, she’d said, “Bless your heart” to her the other night. It hadn’t seemed to be used as a negative, but Faith had seen enough movies to know that was often the southern version of an “eff you.”

As for Caleb, Matt, and Lee, they followed her around like puppies. Sure, they were innocent and nice enough, but she felt a bit bad about the whole situation. Did they think she was leading them on? She had no idea how a polite southern woman was supposed to handle such attention.

She’d told Mae last night that she planned to work through breakfast, but that was a lie. What she really needed was a break from it all. From the smiling, from dodging flirtations, and from Alex’s scowl across the breakfast table.

When she heard the last of the morning clatter come to an end, she sneaked downstairs and selected a peach from the big wooden bowl on the kitchen island. Curled into the chaise in the front room, Faith gazed outside at the regal oaks and cloudless sky. It really is paradise here. But like all paradises, something lurked below the surface.

Alex appeared in the distance, shirtless but with white running shorts. Faith hid behind a piece of gauzy curtain and watched him approach the house. Damn. He’s perfectly shaped. Not an ounce of fat on him. Too bad he’s so antisocial.

She watched him until he reached the largest magnolia tree near the house. Alex hosed himself off, his muscles strong and defined. His hair was getting a bit shaggy, and it suited him. Faith chewed at a nail and felt that tug of warmth between her thighs.

Her phone buzzed with an email. Yes, reception. She had two bars, just enough to text Natalie. Contrary to popular belief, there’s actually quite a bit of beefcake here on the island, she wrote to Natalie.

What they lack in education they make up for in muscles, huh? Natalie replied.

Surprisingly, the boys aren’t all dumb, either, she replied.

Alex had just finished up with the hose, and Faith snapped a photo of him on the sly. On the little table beside the chaise was a group photo of the boys from what looked to be about a year ago. Faith took a photo of it, too. She sent them to Natalie and leaned back on the velvet cushion.

Natalie’s reply was simply an eggplant, kissy face, and heart eye emoji. Faith laughed just as Alex walked through the front door.

“Alex!” she called. “I need to go to the house to meet George about the reno project. Mae said you could take me?” She was emboldened by her texts with Natalie. Mae had said no such thing, but she knew the woman would back her up if it came to it.

He glared at her as he pulled his shirt back on.

“So? What do you say?” she prompted. “He and his crew are going to be out there all morning taking measurements.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

As he jogged off to the cabin, she started to wonder why Alex’s attitude always got worse at the mention of George. Had something happened between them? She knew small towns could be gossip mills, and it was probably even worse on an island.

Ultimately, when she’d told George she’d take him up on his bid, he was all business on the phone. Maybe she’d imagined the extreme flirtations at his office. Or maybe when you took everything except verbal cues off the table, things just got a little more efficient.

While she waited for Alex, she went back upstairs and changed. She remembered how overgrown the property was—and how dangerous the house seemed. Faith pulled off her romper and stepped into her worn jeans. Wearing a lightweight tank top and Converse sneakers, she felt like this was as business casual as she could get on a decrepit plantation site.

Back on the chaise, Alex saw her as he was halfway up the steps to retrieve her. “C’mon,” he called to her through the window. “We haven’t got all day.”

As she expected by now, he was silent on the way to the plane. “Thanks for taking me to see George,” she said as they climbed into the small aircraft.

“Don’t have much choice, do I?”

She sighed. “Why are you so unfriendly every time George is brought up?”

He looked at her in surprise as the plane ascended. “Me? It isn’t any of my business who you hire.”

“Shouldn’t you, uh, keep your eyes on the road. Or sky, or whatever?”

“This isn’t like driving a car,” he said.

“Look, if there’s something up with him, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know. I mean, I’m trusting the guy to renovate a freaking plantation.”

He sighed. “In terms of his business, from what I hear he’s solid,” he said.

This time, when she saw the tiny island with her home—her home!—come into view, she saw it in a new light. It really was beautiful. Just as when she was a child, it looked like a magical jewel in the water. Like that island in The Beach or Blue Lagoon. Faith laughed to herself. Not like those movies are particularly happy.

She remembered a landing with her father and her cousin. “Paradise,” her cousin had said.

Her dad had laughed, and she remembered thinking how rare that was. “How do you know such a big word?” he had asked.

Her cousin just smiled and repeated it. “Paradise.”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” she said aloud as he landed. She felt his eyes on her and looked at him. Simultaneously, they blushed and looked away. Did he really just blush? she wondered.

This time, Alex didn’t have such a fast clip as they deplaned, though she still trailed behind him through the forest to the house. “You know, I used to play in these woods a lot as a child,” he said over his shoulder. “They still look the same as when the Native Americans lived here.”

“Is that a piece of information about the mysterious Mr. Alex Caldwell?” she asked with a laugh.

“Just telling you,” he said, though she thought she heard a smile in his voice.

“Do you . . . do you ever remember seeing a couple of little girls here?” she asked.

“You mean you an’ your cousin?”

Does everyone know except me? “Well, yeah,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not that I remember. I don’t recall Lydia being overprotective of her land, but Mama woulda whooped me good if she knew I was on other people’s property. Mostly sneaked around here durin’ the off season.”

They saw the crew’s rigs and materials before the house came into view. “Wow,” Faith said. “Looks like the entire company is out here.” Workers covered the property with men walking on the roof, measuring the porch, and surveying the land.

“Miss Capshaw, ma’am!” George called from the porch, his arms outstretched. He looked out of place in the stiff jeans and awkward button-up shirt that a middle-aged dad might wear. He looked more himself in that suit in his office, Faith thought.

“Hi, George,” she said as she extended her hand and bounded up the steps to greet him.

He ignored the hand and pulled her in for a two-cheek kiss. “Don’t you look stunning,” he said. He held her out at arm’s length to study the length of her body.

“Um, Alex brought me,” she said. But when she turned around, Alex had busied himself inspecting something on the patio landing.

“Man, you really do look a vision. Don’t you think, Alex?” George said. Alex glanced at him and shrugged. “Not much for lavishing a woman with the compliments she deserves,” George said to her with a knowing grin.

Faith was uncomfortable. She’d never experienced the kind of flirtations George showered her with. And she didn’t know how to best respond to keep him at bay. “I think he has other things on his mind,” she said to George kindly.

“I don’t know how,” George said. He blatantly stared at her chest. “I don’t mean to be too forward, ma’am, but if I was sharing a house with you? You’d be the only thing on my mind.”

“Well, actually,” Faith started. “Alex is living out in the cabin now.”

George let out a laugh. “I can see that,” he said. “And honestly, can’t blame him. Who wants to be almost thirty years old and livin’ with their mama?”

Her instinct was to smile to soften the situation, but she wasn’t about to go along with making fun of Alex just to stroke George’s ego. “I don’t know,” she said. “I know a lot of people in their twenties and thirties living with their parents—or vice versa—in San Francisco.”

“That’s different,” George said. “I read about them housing prices out there.” He let out a whistle. “Now that’s where I should be doin’ what I do. Can you imagine the profits? That who you live with, ma’am? Your parents?”

She blushed and looked down. “No. I—”

“I see. Got a boyfriend. Yeah, that whole livin’ in sin thing’s got trendy here now, too. Not that I’m one to judge,” George said.

“No, no boyfriend. I, um, I live alone.”

“Alone? A pretty thing like you? Now that can’t be safe. I guess maybe that’s why you’re lookin’ at this here property then. It’s a real good family home. Now you just need the family,” he said with a wink. “Who knows? Maybe I can help you out with that, too. Every woman needs a good man at home.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed again. “I’m just playin’ with you. Don’t get too serious.”

“I really don’t think—”

George ignored what she’d started to say completely. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news, as per usual on these renos. Which would you like first, ma’am?”

“Um, I guess let’s start with—”

“I’m goin’ on a walk,” Alex said. He interrupted both of them and although his voice was calm, the anger was palpable. He looked only at Faith and blocked George out entirely. “Be back in thirty.”

“Okay?” Faith’s voice was tiny.

“That boy,” George said and shook his head. “Always runnin’ round them woods since we was kids. Dunno what he sees in it.”

“Yeah,” Faith said quietly. They both watched Alex disappear into the woods. “George? I know this is none of my business, but why does Alex hate you so much?”

George’s smile dimmed.

“I’m sorry. God, that was rude. It’s so none of my business. It’s just, whenever I mention you, he gets so upset.”

“Well, ma’am, I don’t like to air dirty laundry. ʼSpecially other people’s. But . . . I guess I could say, Alex’s first wife wasn’t particularly faithful.”

“His wife?”

“Oh, shoot, you didn’t know that, either? Well, yes, he was married. Some girl named Rebecca, if I remember right. And, I ʼspose I did flirt with her a bit. Just to get Alex’s goat, you know. High school rivalry silliness.”

Faith narrowed her eyes. This was getting a lot messier than she’d expected. She didn’t know what she’d thought George would say, but it seemed like there were secrets on this island that went deeper than she’d imagined. “Sorry to pry,” she said. “Anyway, what were you saying about the good and bad news? I guess I’ll take the bad first. It can only get better from there.” She forced a smile onto her face.

“Well, it turns out the requirements for flood plains have changed since the home was built. So you have two options . . .”

George talked, but Faith’s mind reeled. If George is willing to admit to flirting, there’s probably a lot more to the story. No wonder Alex hates him! It also made a lot of other things make sense.

And what happened to his wife? Why hasn’t anyone mention that? Divorce was pretty normal, unfortunately. Maybe that’s why Alex seemed so upset about being on the property. And maybe it wasn’t about her at all.

“Ready for the good news?” George asked as he interrupted her thoughts.

“Sure,” she said.

He began to rattle something off about the insulation but not much registered. Given the situation between Alex and George, it was clear that George wasn’t the contractor for her. But she’d still pay for today’s survey and let him give his spiel.

Faith looked toward the woods where Alex had disappeared. She frowned. Am I the one who can finally get him to loosen up a little?