Jack’s Legacy (Baytown Legacies #1)

Chapter 1

Fifteen Years Ago

Rachel Ayers clutched the cloth bags tighter as she walked beside her Aunt Shiloh through the Pennsylvania mountain community that had been her home for all fourteen years of her life.

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, made worse by the long-sleeved black dress that hung below her knees.

Mourning clothes. She'd been wearing them for almost a year now, ever since Uncle Edward died.

The memory of her parents and grandparents dying in the mountain road accident when she was nine had faded to a dull ache.

Shiloh and her husband, Edward, had become her guardians, kind and generous as parental figures.

Now Edward’s death was still sharp and painful, leaving only her and Aunt Shiloh to cling to each other in grief.

But it was the change in their community leader that frightened her the most. Things were not the same, and she felt stifled all the time.

Rachel kept her eyes down as they approached the small market, a skill she'd learned well over the past few years. Don't draw attention. Don't speak unless spoken to. Be small, be quiet, be invisible.

It hadn't always been like this. She remembered a time before Master Isaiah took over from Pastor Aaron.

The kind pastor had died in the same car accident as her parents and grandparents.

Back then, she'd worn pants and her hair styled in ponytails with ribbons. Back then, they sang whenever they wanted. Back then, she’d gone to a nearby public school.

Back then, her family was alive, and the community felt warm instead of cold.

Now everything was controlled by one man who called himself their leader but acted more like a tyrant.

Inside the market, Rachel's gaze lingered on the candy display.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd given in to the urge to purchase something frivolous.

But when she glanced at Shiloh, her young aunt shook her head.

Rachel moved back to her side without complaint.

She understood. Money was tight, and Shiloh was saving every penny she could.

For what, Rachel didn't know. But she trusted her aunt with everything she had.

The walk home should have been peaceful. The mountains were beautiful, the air fresh with pine. But Rachel's shoulders tensed when she saw the men blocking their path.

Isaiah stood in the center, tall and wiry, his black hair slicked to the side. His white shirt contrasted starkly with his black pants and jacket. Three other men flanked him, silent and imposing.

“Rachel, you may take the groceries home by yourself. Your aunt will be along soon.” Isaiah’s voice was oily smooth.

Fear sliced through Rachel's chest, but she knew better than to protest. She accepted the bags from Shiloh, careful not to meet Isaiah's dark eyes. As she walked past the men, she felt their gazes on her back, heavy and assessing.

She looked over her shoulder once, catching Shiloh's worried expression before Isaiah's form blocked her view. At home, she put away the groceries with shaking hands, then stood at the window watching the lane. Waiting and praying. Please let Shiloh be okay. Please don't let him hurt her.

When Shiloh finally appeared, walking quickly toward the house, Rachel threw open the door and raced into her arms.

“Oh, Shiloh, I was scared.”

“Shhh, it's okay. I'm fine.” But Shiloh's voice trembled, and Rachel knew she wasn't fine at all. Inside, with the door closed firmly behind them, Shiloh pulled Rachel close. Her aunt was shaking too.

“I don't... I don't like him,” Rachel whispered.

Shiloh nodded but said nothing at first. Then Rachel leaned back and asked the question that had been burning in her chest. “Are you safe?”

The pause before Shiloh answered was too long. “Yes. I'm still officially in mourning, so I have no fear of having to take another husband.”

The words should have been reassuring. They weren't.

Rachel watched Shiloh pace. Her aunt had been different today, tense, and filled Rachel with fear. Months had passed, and yesterday marked exactly one year since Uncle Edward died.

“Rachel, I need to talk to you.” Shiloh sat down across from her and took her hands. “There's so much I want to tell you, but we don't have much time, so you need to trust me.”

Rachel's heart hammered. “I do. I trust you, Shiloh.”

“Good.” Shiloh's grip tightened. “Remember that your memories are important. Always keep them. They'll remind you of when this community was warmer, more loving, more trusting. Before Master Isaiah.”

Rachel nodded. She did remember. Her mother’s smile and the way her father would sometimes tug lightly on her ponytail before hugging her.

She remembered the way Uncle Edward would read at night as she fell asleep.

She remembered her grandmother canning vegetables from the garden her grandfather tended.

“Isaiah came to see me today,” Shiloh continued. “He's decided he wants me to marry him.”

Horror washed over Rachel. “No. He can't make you.”

“He will not take no for an answer.” Shiloh's voice was steady despite the fear in her eyes. “And if I don't marry him, he's threatened to take you away from me.”

“No!” Rachel started to rise, but Shiloh's hand clamped down on her arm.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll never let that happen. But this is where you have to trust me with all your heart and mind.”

“I do. I will.”

Shiloh stood and walked to the counter, reaching into a drawer. When she returned to the table, she held an envelope that she smoothed with careful hands.

“I've made plans,” Shiloh explained. “Ever since Edward died, I've been preparing for us to leave. This community is no longer safe. Isaiah has turned it into something terrible, and we need to escape.”

Rachel's eyes widened. “Escape?”

“We can't stay here. What if I told you it could be an adventure? A whole new life?”

Despite the fear thrumming through her veins, Rachel felt a spark of something else. Hope. “Like the ones in the books you let me read?”

Shiloh smiled, the first real smile Rachel had seen in weeks. “Exactly like that.” She opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. The print at the top read the Sea Glass Inn, and underneath was a name: Tori Evans. Virginia.

“I found this place in a magazine,” Shiloh explained. “I've been writing to the owner for months, with Mr. Kendall's help.”

The Kendalls worked a farm near the community but weren’t part of the establishment. She knew Shiloh had been visiting the Kendalls more recently, but now started to understand the true reason for those visits.

Shiloh continued, “The owner of the inn needs a housekeeper, and there's a room for us. You could go to school. Real school, Rachel. With other kids your age. We could work and build a new life.”

Rachel's hands trembled as understanding dawned. School. Friends. Freedom from Isaiah's oppressive rules and watchful eyes. A chance to be something more than afraid.

“When?” Her voice came out as a whisper.

“Tonight. We pack what we can carry and walk to Mr. Kendall's place. He'll take us to the bus station.”

Rachel began to shake, her whole body vibrating with a mixture of terror and excitement. “School. A job. Maybe friends. Oh, Aunt Shiloh, we get a new life.”

“Yes. But be prepared because we'll have to leave this place behind. Remember, though, no one can take our memories away from us.”

Rachel threw her arms around Shiloh, hugging her fiercely, then raced upstairs to pack.

Her hands moved quickly, pulling clothes from drawers, books from secret hiding places under the floorboards where Uncle Edward had stashed them.

She packed the photographs Shiloh had saved of her parents, grandparents, and the life they had before everything changed.

Hours later, under the cover of darkness, Rachel followed Shiloh down the moonlit lane.

They each carried everything they could in old satchels and cloth bags stuffed to overflowing.

The trees on either side of the road cast dark shadows that moved with the breeze, and Rachel's heart pounded with every rustle.

Someone could be following them. Isaiah could discover them gone. They could be dragged back.

But with each step away from the only home she'd ever known, Rachel felt the weight on her chest lighten. Fear mixed with exhilaration as they walked the five miles to the Kendalls' farm.

The next two days passed in a blur of new experiences.

The bus traveled through mountains and towns and cities, all the way to the ocean.

Tori Evans met them at the bus station in Virginia Beach.

She was beautiful and kind with red hair and an easy smile.

Her casual clothes reminded Rachel of her mother’s and Shiloh’s wardrobe before Isaiah’s takeover.

She drove them over a long bridge with tunnels under the water.

While Tori explained the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, Rachel kept her face to the window, unable to believe the water could stretch so far.

And when they went through the tunnels, she held her breath until the sunlight shone on her once again.

Still marveling at all the new wonders she had witnessed on the journey, it was when Tori pointed out coffee shops, the library, and restaurants in the little bayside town that Rachel truly felt as though she had landed in an enchanted place.

A place where people gathered freely, without fear, without someone watching and controlling every moment.

And then they arrived at the Sea Glass Inn.

Rachel gasped when she saw it. The three-story brick building with its wraparound porch looked like something from the storybooks Shiloh had secretly shared with her. Inside, Oriental rugs covered gleaming wood floors. A grand staircase led to the upper levels.

Tori showed them to the large attic room that would be theirs. A queen bed and a twin. White furniture. Lace curtains that let in the sunlight. And French doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the bay.

That night, after Shiloh fell asleep, Rachel crept onto the balcony. The moon reflected off the water, and she could hear the gentle lap of waves against the shore. The air smelled different here. Saltier. Free.

She thought about everything they'd left behind. The community. The farm. The graves of her family. The familiar mountains and rivers of Pennsylvania.

But she also thought about what waited ahead. School. Friends. A life where she could make choices instead of following orders. Where she could wear pants and ponytails if she wanted. Where no one would tell her what to think or how to feel or who she had to become.

Rachel wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at the stars. The same stars that had shone over Pennsylvania now shone over Virginia. Some things stayed constant even when everything else changed.

She heard movement behind her and turned to see Shiloh standing in the doorway.

“Can't sleep either?” her aunt asked softly.

Rachel shook her head. “It feels like a dream. Like I'll wake up and be back there.”

Shiloh joined her on the balcony, slipping an arm around Rachel's shoulders. “It's real. We're here and safe now.”

“Do you think he'll come after us?” The question had been haunting Rachel since they left.

“I took precautions,” Shiloh said carefully. “I made sure he knows that if he comes after us, there will be consequences. But Rachel, you need to keep being brave now. Starting school and meeting new people will be hard sometimes and different from anything you've known.”

“I can be brave.” Rachel meant it. She'd survived the heartache of losing so much of her family. She’d survived living under Isaiah's oppressive rules. Survived the escape. “Will it always feel this scary?”

“The fear will fade,” Shiloh promised. “Little by little, you'll start to feel safe.”

Rachel leaned against her aunt, breathing in the salt air. Somewhere in this town, other teenagers were sleeping, dreaming of what they’d do during the summer. Soon, she'd be one of them. The thought terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.

“Sometimes I feel like we went to sleep and woke up in the middle of a fairy tale,” Rachel whispered.

Shiloh's laugh was soft and warm. “Maybe we did. And maybe this fairy tale has a happy ending.”

As they stood watching the moonlight dance across the bay, Rachel allowed herself to believe it. They'd found sanctuary in this little slice of heaven on the Chesapeake Bay. They had a chance to build something new.

The past would always be a part of her. But it didn't have to define her future.

Here in Baytown, on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, Rachel Ayers could become whoever she wanted to be.

And for the first time in years, that future looked hopeful.