The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel by Stacey Coverstone

living room, which was disappointing.
    “Thank you,” she said after guzzling the cold water.
    “You’re welcome.” His eyes explored her face as if he were trying to memorize it.
    “Why are you looking at me that way?” She handed the glass back to him. Their fingers touched by accident, and she felt a spark jump between them.
    “Did you feel that?” he said, momentarily disregarding her question.
    “Yes. There must be a lot of static electricity in this room.”
    “That’s not it, and I think you know it.”
    She kept her gaze locked on his, knowing as well as he that the spark she’d felt had not been caused by static electricity.
    “Have we met before?” he asked, joining her on the other end of the sofa.
    Her giddy mood plummeted, along with the magical moment. Don’t let it be happening again. He called out my name on the beach. He has to remember me. Please let him remember me. Anxiety tore at her chest like claws as she tried not to freak out. “We met yesterday, Aidan.”
    “I know, but have we ever met before that? I have the strangest sensation that I know you from somewhere.”
    Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, her strained muscles relaxed. Thank goodness he remembered her. But she wondered exactly what he remembered about their interaction up to this point. “I think I’d remember if we’d met before,” she said softly. “A man like you wouldn’t be easy to forget.”
    Grinning, he seemed to appreciate that answer.
    “The color is coming back to your face,” he said, letting the subject drop. “That was a close call.”
    Samantha felt heat creep into her cheeks. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I didn’t hear those horses galloping toward me. I guess I was in dreamland. Where did they come from anyway?”
    “They’re descendants of a group of wild horses that have lived at Pavee Cove for two hundred years. Legend tells us that a ship carrying European settlers and livestock wrecked on this coast sometime in the 1800s. More horses than people survived and they’ve flourished here ever since. It’s not often they run down the beach that way. They mostly stay in uninhabited areas. There are a few signs posted around as warnings to visitors and beach folk to be aware.”
    “I haven’t seen any signs. You could say I’ve been distracted. I’m so glad you were there to rescue me.” She shivered again and thought how close she’d come to losing her life. “Thank you again.”
    “It was my pleasure. Are you feeling better?”
    “Yes.” Swinging her legs off the sofa, she stood up and sauntered around the room gazing at his paintings. There was one of the sea and the others were of landscapes, animals and people. “I thought you only painted seascapes.” She took special notice of the ones with people to see if there were any with little blonde girls painted in. There weren’t.
    “I like to mix it up every once in a while, but my favorite is still seascapes. The ocean is so alive and it literally changes from minute to minute.”
    Her eyes widened. She knew that feeling all too well. Her life had seemed to change from minute to minute ever since she arrived at Pavee Cove.
    “I can’t get enough of the sea,” he continued. “That’s why I bought this cottage, so I can work and live on the water. I think I was born with water flowing through my veins instead of blood.”
    She smiled, enthused and attracted by his ardor. “You told me you lived here when you were a young boy. Did you have a house in the village at the time?”
    He seemed surprised. “I told you I lived in Pavee Cove?”
    Her heart skipped a beat. She knew she hadn’t dreamt that conversation.
    “I don’t recall mentioning that,” he replied, scrubbing a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh well. My memory’s not the greatest.”
    Sighing quietly, she’d heard the story about the elephant and his excellent memory, but there was no point in bringing it up.
    “To answer your question,