Beyond the Tide Read online

  Beyond the Tide

  Other Books by Noelle Marchand

  The Runaway Bride Collection

  The Elusive Heiress

  Mail–order Bride Collection

  The Outlaw’s Inconvenient Bride

  Lone Star Cowboy League

  The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets

  Bachelor List Matches

  The Texan’s Engagement Agreement

  The Texan’s Courtship Lessons

  The Texan’s Inherited Family

  O’Brien Family Saga

  A Texas-made Match

  The Runaway Bride

  Unlawfully Wedded Bride

  Beyond the Tide

  treasure hunters

  R

  NOELLE MARCHAND

  Beyond the Tide

  © 2019 by Noelle Marchand

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means—by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without prior written permission.

  Cover design © 2019 by Noelle Marchand

  Cover photo by Diana Indiana/Shutterstock.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Beyond the Tide

  Copyright © 2019 Noelle Marchand

  ISBN 978-0-692-18584-1

  Dedication

  To my mother

  Thank you for your endless support and encouragement!

  What does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul?

  —Deuteronomy 10:12

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by Noelle Marchand

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Hey, y’all. I’m Ava Emerson, and this is my Southern cover glamour shoot.”

  A beat of silence filled the air. Inwardly wincing at the gaffe, Ava burst into soft laughter. She sent the camera a wide-eyed look and smiled real pretty. “Oh. My. Word.”

  The magazine’s videographer, who looked like he was right out of college in his black skinny jeans and artsy red shirt, peered around the camera to lift a dark eyebrow at her. With laughter in his voice, he asked, “Did you say ‘Southern cover glamour shoot?’”

  She pointed at him. “You hush. And don’t you dare put that in the video, Sam.”

  He grinned, then disappeared behind the camera. “Let’s try it again. Ready? In three… Two…” He held up one finger, then pointed at her.

  Allowing a hint of laughter to remain in her eyes, she tried again. “Hi, y’all. I’m Ava Emerson. Welcome to my Southern Glamour cover shoot.”

  He let her smile for another second or two before saying, “Great! Now for the interview. Remember, we’re going to shoot this rapid-fire interview as one continuous shot. There are no wrong answers, so don’t worry about messing up. We want it to feel natural and spontaneous. Flirt with the camera a little. Go ahead and take your mark. We’ll start whenever you’re ready.”

  They switched positions so the Hill Country vineyard’s historic farmhouse would appear in the background of the interview. She pulled in a deep breath and gave him a nod. He counted down again, then asked, “Ava Emerson, are you ready for your first question?”

  “So ready.” She offered a warm smile.

  He stayed slightly in front of her as she walked alongside a white picket fence. “What do you love most about Texas?”

  She looked into the camera lens. “The people. They’re amazing, kind, independent, hardworking, innovative, inspiring… I could go on and on.”

  “Favorite place to hang out?”

  Pausing, she tilted her head thoughtfully before admitting, “At home in Austin during the holidays with the whole family.”

  “Who is your fashion icon?”

  “I have so many!” She laughed softly as she began walking again. “If I had to pick only two, I’d go with Clara Rossi Emerson and Marie Benedetti.”

  Most people had seen her mother’s movies if not her grandmother’s and knew of her connection to them, so she didn’t bother to explain the relationships. Instead, she crossed the lawn toward the huge live oak a few yards away. Sam followed her. “What issue do you wish more people were aware of?”

  She never wasted a good opportunity to promote the issue that had been her platform during her reign as Miss Texas USA. Allowing genuine concern to fill her voice, she said, “All of the children in foster homes waiting for forever families.”

  “Favorite look from today’s photo shoot?”

  “This one.” She twirled to show off the designer ballgown constructed of gold lace. She loved the confidence the boat neck, cinched waist, and tulle skirt gave her. She smiled at the camera. “The cover look.”

  “You recently earned your PhD in History. What do you plan to do with it?”

  “I’m still figuring that out.” Bracing her hands behind her to protect the gown, she leaned back against the tree trunk. Hopefully, she presented a picture of confidence and ease despite having revealed that, at twenty-six, she still had no real idea of what she wanted to do with her life.

  “What were you up to this time yesterday?”

  “Packing up the last of my things in Houston and driving it all up here to Austin.”

  He backed away slightly. She took that as her cue to sit on the tree’s wooden swing. He waited until she was settled to ask, “What are you most looking forward to?”

  “Time traveling,” she said, leveling a mysterious look at the camera.

  Sam glanced around the camera in surprise. “Time traveling?”

  She laughed. “I was chosen to be a part of a historical reenactment show called Living History. It premiers this fall.”

  “Interesting.” He disappeared behind the camera again. “Last but not least… How are you doing?”

  Sobering a little, she infused her voice with sincerity. “I’m great. Excited about the future and everything God has in store for me.”

  “Anything else you’d like to say before we go?”

  She leaned toward the camera slightly. “Thank you, everyone, for all of your support. You have no idea how much it has meant to me. As my father likes to say, God bless you and God bless Texas.”

  Sam let the camera continue filming as he proclaimed, “That was perfect! Now, if you cou
ld stand in front of the vineyard again… Thank you. OK. Give me a few variations of ‘This is Southern Glamour’ pausing a few seconds between each one.”

  “This is Southern Glamour. This is Southern Glamour. This is Southern Glamour.”

  “Awesome.” He lowered the camera and grinned at her. “That’s a wrap. Thank you so much.”

  She reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see the video and the magazine cover.”

  They chatted a bit more as they walked to the farmhouse where the rest of the crew had been hiding during the video shoot. Locking herself in one of the bedrooms, she changed into a denim button-up shirt, black skinny jeans, and navy heels. It would be much easier for her to travel incognito in this than the eye-catching white off-the-shoulder blouse and high-waist shorts she’d arrived in for the sake of Southern Glamour’s cameras.

  She said one last goodbye to the magazine crew, then sped off in her red Mustang convertible. Glancing at the clock, she realized the photo shoot had lasted longer than she’d expected. She’d have to hurry if she wanted to make it back to Austin in time to catch her flight. A cursory look in her rearview mirror revealed only a silver sedan in the distance.

  With a smile, she lead-footed the gas pedal and roared down the empty country road toward the interstate. Strange. The sedan seemed to maintain the same distance. Her eyes narrowed, then refocused on the road as her cell phone rang through her car’s Bluetooth. Ava answered immediately. “Hey, Mom! I’m just leaving the photo shoot.”

  “How did it go?”

  “It was great! The fashion was amazing. There was one by Cheyenne Brooks. The rest were local designers. I wrote down their names for you.”

  “Wonderful. What did they do with your makeup?”

  Ava flipped down the visor to look in the vanity mirror. “Airbrushed, natural look, smoky eye, pale lips.”

  “Emphasis on the eyes then. Good. They’re your best feature.”

  Ava folded the mirror back into place, then surveyed the country road stretching out before her. “Oops.”

  “What happened?”

  “I missed my turn.” She made a U-turn, passing the silver sedan on the way back. “Tell me about Dad’s presidential exploratory committee meeting. It was today, right?”

  “Yes, your father and I just left it.” As her mother talked about the committee’s findings, Ava merged onto the interstate. This far from the city, there were hardly any cars on it. Only a black car… and the silver sedan. How was it still behind her?

  As soon as her mother paused to take a breath, Ava asked, “Mom, did Dad hire someone to follow me?”

  Silence filled the line. “Someone is following you?”

  “I think so. Will you ask him for me?” She could already hear her mother moving through the governor’s mansion. There was a muffled exchange between her parents before her father’s voice filled the car. “Hey, kiddo, so you spotted your security detail, huh?”

  Relief surged through her with dizzying force. “A man in a silver sedan?”

  “Yes.”

  Shaking her head, she forced her fingers to unclench their stranglehold on the steering wheel. She kept her voice level though there was no hiding her frustration. “For the record, if your daughter was stalked and narrowly escaped being maimed by one of your deranged constituents, it is not a good idea to have a strange man follow her without notifying her that he is not another deranged constituent.”

  The line went quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, Ava. You’re absolutely right. I should have told you.”

  She did her best to regulate her accelerated breathing. She would not hyperventilate. Not today. Calling on whatever acting genes may have been passed down through her maternal line, she forced herself to sound unaffected. “It’s OK.”

  What else could she say? She didn’t want to tell him that having someone following her had brought her to the brink of a panic attack. He’d feel awful. Besides, it wouldn’t help anyone or change anything.

  “Are you still there, Ava?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I spoke to Living History’s producer again today.”

  She groaned. “Dad.”

  “What?” he asked far too innocently.

  “You have to stop threatening to sue them if I get so much as a hangnail.”

  “It isn’t a threat. It’s a warning.”

  Before she could respond, the GPS machine cut in with more driving instructions. “Hey, I should focus on driving.”

  “OK. Hold on. Your mother wants the phone back. Here she is.”

  “Ava, your father is about ninety-nine percent sure he’s going to run for president this election cycle.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t realize y’all were that close to making a decision.”

  “We still have a few concerns, so we aren’t anywhere close to being ready to announce a decision publicly yet. Even so, please be mindful of your father’s position and behave circumspectly.”

  Ava glanced at the phone in disbelief. She was always mindful of her father’s position as the governor of Texas. Furthermore, she’d never had a problem behaving according to her parents’ strict standards. Why would that change now?

  Fighting off a frown, she shrugged and offered them the reassurance they seemed to need. “OK, Mom. I will.”

  Her father’s voice came over the line again. “Be careful. I’ll be watching the news for hurricanes, and if there is any sign of one—”

  “Don’t worry, y’all. I’ll be fine. I’d better go.”

  They said their goodbyes before she disconnected the call. Pushing her tension aside, Ava leveled a daring smile at her security detail in the rearview mirror. “Keep up if you can.”

  She tamped down the gas pedal and made it to the airport in record time. Her cousins, Laurel and Luke, had promised to pick up her car and move it to the garage at the Emerson family’s Austin home. The fraternal twins had driven all the way from their home in Victoria, Texas to help her move. She texted them to let them know where they could find her car and told them to check the glove box before they left.

  Ava deplaned in Charleston before her phone buzzed with a text from Laurel. Your car is now safely parked in the garage at Emerson House. We found the thank you notes and gift cards. You are so welcome, and thank you!! Have a good time on the show! We’ll be praying for you.

  Ava shot back. Thanks, Laurel! See you in a couple hundred years. ;-)

  Her thumb impatiently tapped out the rhythm of the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song as the taxi whizzed down the curvy interstate. It dropped her off in the nearly empty parking lot of a stately red-bricked yacht club. A thrill shot through her at the sight of a tall ship waiting at the dock, setting her feet into a quick little samba in place.

  She froze at the sound of the yacht club’s front door opening. Unlocking the handle of her rolling suitcase, she turned toward the building just as a woman started walking down the front stairs. Dressed in a blue blouse and black slacks, the woman appeared to be a few years older than Ava. “Hello there. I thought I saw a taxi leaving. You must be Ava Emerson. I’m Miriam Rodriguez from Living History. We spoke on the phone a few days ago.”

  Ava shook Miriam’s hand. “I remember. You were very helpful. It’s so nice to meet you in person.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too.” Miriam smiled as she led Ava down the palm tree-lined path to the building. “The yacht club has kindly lent us the use of their bride’s room. You’ll change into your reenactment costume there. First, of course, you’ll have to rid yourself of anything modern. Your suitcase will be returned to you after this experience is over.”

  “But, my satchel will stay with me?” It was more of a statement than a question. Still, she wanted confirmation. After all, it had been the main subject of their phone call.

  Miriam nodded. “Yes, as you aptly pointed out, section three of the Living History contract states that pe
rsonal items are permissible as long as they would have been available in the 1680s. That includes any self-made cosmetics or hygiene items. However, I will have to search the bag for contraband.”

  “Of course.” Ava stepped inside the lobby behind Miriam and blinked in surprise as she recognized a familiar face. “Ted Gibbs!”

  The sixty-something-year-old grinned as he shifted his camera onto his shoulder. “Hello, Ava.”

  Miriam glanced back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

  Ted nodded. “I used to work for a local news station in Austin. I’ve filmed several interviews of Ava and even more of her father. Let’s see. I think my last interview with her was right after she won Miss Texas. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right.” Ava smiled. “I heard you moved to LA.”

  “Yep, I grew up there and had family in the area, so I jumped at the chance.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. How’s Miss Suzie?”

  “My wife is doing fine. She’ll be tickled pink to know you asked about her.” He winked at her. “My son is still single, you know.”

  A blush raced across her cheek. “Colby hardly said a word to me all through high school. I doubt he’d be interested now.”

  “I don’t know. He’s a lot smarter than he once was.”

  Miriam cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt the reunion, but we’re on a tight schedule. Ted, go ahead and complete the introductory interview with Ava while I fill out the forms for her luggage. Ava, after the interview, you can head to the bride’s room at the end of this hall. Everything is laid out for you. The wardrobe assistant is with another reenactor right now, but she’ll assist you in a few minutes.”

  After her first interview for Living History, Ava retired to the privacy of the bride room where she removed the expertly applied makeup left over from the photo shoot. She was left fresh-faced with smudges under her eyes and a blemish on her chin that her concealer no longer hid. Someone had petitioned for them to be able to wear sunblock, so she added a bit of cocoa powder to a small bead of sunblock. Once it was properly tinted, she used it to cover the blemish.