This Same Earth

  This Same Earth

  An Elemental Mystery

  By Elizabeth Hunter

  This Same Earth

  Copyright © 2011

  by Elizabeth Hunter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Flash in the Can Productions

  Edited by: Amy Eye

  Formatted by: Amy Eye

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  For information about the Elemental Mysteries series, please visit:

  ElementalMysteries.com

  Other books by Elizabeth Hunter:

  A Hidden Fire

  For my Love

  I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to my friends and family, who make my writing possible.

  To Kristy and Kelli, Sarah, Lindsay, Sandra, and Molly. Your input and advice is invaluable. Thank you for being fantastic readers and wonderful friends. I am blessed to have you all in my life.

  Thanks to Amy, for her amazing work and enthusiasm.

  To my sister, for being one of the strongest women I know.

  To Corey, who gave me the best advice about sequels I’ve ever heard.

  To Colin, for making my heart grow.

  Thanks to God, for giving me my brain. Hope I’m not wasting it.

  And to my readers, thank you for wanting more.

  All men are by nature equal, made of the same earth by one workman; and however we deceive ourselves, as dear unto God is the poor peasant as the mighty prince.

  —Plato

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Cochamó Valley

  Chile

  August 3, 2005

  I’m here. Where are you?

  And do you know it takes two days to get here from Los Angeles? I had to wait an extra day in Santiago so I could catch the plane to Puerto Montt. I thought you’d be the one meeting me at the trail, not Gustavo, but it was nice to catch up. Also, ouch. My legs are going to kill me tomorrow from all that riding.

  So, where are you?

  August 4, 2005

  Isabel says you wrote her to say that I would be coming but didn’t say when you would be coming. Should I be worried?

  August 5, 2005

  And now everyone is doing the whole vampire clam-up-and-not-tell-me-anything thing. Screw you all. If Isabel and Gustavo aren’t worried, then I’m not going to worry about you, either.

  August 17, 2005

  I’ve been here for two weeks now. Where the hell are you?

  Ever since you came to my apartment (Do you know you always smell like smoke to me, by the way? I thought something was burning when I came home that night.) I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.

  Is this you being pissed at me for leaving Houston?

  You never once came to visit me in L.A. Not once. Except to break into my apartment and leave me the sonnets (which I brought by the way) and take one of my favorite pictures, of course. Would it have killed you to hang around for a while?

  Haha. I just realized that was unintentionally funny.

  August 20, 2005

  Took a ride today.

  You still aren’t here.

  Think I might go rock-climbing tomorrow—with the Reverte’s oldest son. The really handsome one.

  Why aren’t you here?

  I’ve been sleeping in your room, and I discovered that without any light to wake me up in the morning, I sleep a really long time. I’m very well rested.

  Is that what this was? Just a getaway for Beatrice so she could relax? Not saying I don’t appreciate it, but…

  No, actually, I don’t appreciate it. I love this place, but I came here to see you, not ride horses, and hike, and eat Señora Reverte’s really excellent cooking.

  So, where the hell are you?

  I have a return ticket for the thirty-first. I’m not hanging out until you get here. If you even plan on getting here.

  August 25, 2005

  Why the hell am I even writing in this stupid journal? It was just lying open on the kitchen table when I got here. Did you know this whole place smells like you? It does. I kind of hate that at this point.

  August 31, 2005

  Go to hell. I never want to see you again.

  Cochamó Valley

  Chile

  August 2, 2006

  So, since I’m here again (and I’m just assuming you’re going to be a no-show) I want to explain a few things.

  1. I wasn’t going to come this year until Dez (that’s Desiree, my best friend, who you would know about if you communicated with me at all) convinced me that I should just take the free ticket because I love it here and I could use a vacation. So I’m here. That’s why, and that’s the only reason. Not because I wanted or expected to see you again.

  2. I’m more than a little pissed that you seem to be able to communicate with everyone we know (Caspar, Carwyn, Tenzin—you even called my grandma on her birthday) but not me. Yay for you. You’re traveling the world and won’t tell anyone where you are. I don’t even give a shit anymore, but it’s just rude. I hope my grandma told you off. She probably didn’t.

  3. If you have any illusions about me “waiting for you” or some romantic crap like that, don’t kid yourself. I’m dating. I’m dating a really nice guy, as a matter of fact. His name is Kevin, and I met him in my graduate program. He’s handsome and smart and we have an amazing time together, and when I get back from this vacation, we’re going to have sex. Lots of it. And that’s going to be great, too.

  August 15, 2006

  I love this place. I really do. I mean, I love L.A. and I love school, but this place is just…magic. Do you come here when I’m not here? I bet you do. I’m betting you read this journal last year because it looked like it had been paged through, and I greatly doubt Isabel went to look under the pillows on our bed to set it out on the table for when I got here this year.

  So I think you were here.

  And I have no idea how to feel about that.

  August 20, 2006

  Does time stand still for you? Have you been living so long that a year or two is nothing? It seems so long to me, but it’s probably like the
blink of an eye to you. I remember you telling me once that a year was like a day when you are immortal.

  So what does that mean? If I was just the blink of an eye in your life, why do you keep breaking into my apartment and giving me tickets to come here? Also, if you want pictures of me, you could call and ask for them instead of swiping the ones at my place. I really liked that picture of me at the beach. I actually had a tan.

  August 23, 2006

  I hate that everything in this house smells like you.

  August 24, 2006

  And I hate that I dream about you when I’m here.

  August 29, 2006

  I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m feeling very relaxed, so thanks for that.

  I don’t know what to think about you anymore. Were you really a part of my life? I’d say it was all a crazy dream except for the cryptic postcards that I’m assuming are from you, and the tickets, and the fact that I’m friends with all your friends now.

  I’m going to finish my master’s this winter. Only two and a half years. Not bad. I could have done better, but I was having a lot of fun. I learned how to rock-climb, kickbox, and I’m fairly good at a couple of martial arts, too. I’m even a pretty decent dancer now. Surprise, surprise. So I’m not going to regret the extra months.

  Want to come to my graduation in December?

  Yeah, didn’t think so.

  Cochamó Valley

  Chile

  August 1, 2007

  I just got the best job! I’m in heaven. I think I might have finally found a library to top yours! I turned down a couple of positions because I was waiting for the right one and I got it! I’m starting at the Huntington Library next month! (I’m using a million exclamation points, but I don’t care!)

  I wasn’t worried about money so much (thanks to my superior embezzling skills) but I wanted to find a place where I was really passionate about working. The Huntington is a private foundation, and its facilities are amazing.

  Plus, they have this gorgeous botanical garden surrounding it, so it’s a beautiful place to work, and it’s an easy commute from my house in Silver Lake.

  Oh, I bought a house. It’s pretty damn cute. It’s one of those Spanish bungalows built about eighty years ago and it has really nice architectural details. At least, that’s what my realtor, Matt, told me. Now he’s my neighbor, as a matter of fact. The house next door to his went on the market right after I met him, so I got a great deal because he found it right away and I could put in a quick offer. He’s a nice neighbor. We’re the only people on our block who are under eighty, I think. It’s an old part of L.A. up in the hills, but I really like it.

  We’re not dating or anything. Actually, I’m pretty sure Dez has a crush on him, but she refuses to ask him out despite the fact that she’s usually very outgoing. Oh, and I’m not dating that Kevin guy either. I mean, I did for a while, but…he was kind of boring, to be honest. And he snored a lot. Like…a lot.

  August 17, 2007

  You’re missing it, but I’m a great rider now. Really. I even beat Gustavo in a race the other night. Still can’t beat Isabel, though. Damn, she is good. And on sidesaddle, too. How does she even do that?

  Oh, and I’m a pretty good rock-climber, if I do say so myself. I’m still studying tai chi and judo, but I’m taking jujitsu now, too. I’m going to be sitting a lot as a librarian (yes! I can officially call myself a librarian now!) so I want to keep active so I don’t expand. You never have to worry about that, do you?

  Jerk.

  August 20, 2007

  I have a boyfriend.

  I don’t know why that’s weird to write. I just…I know we’re not like that. I mean, I thought at one point that maybe we would be, but obviously, we’re not. Don’t get me wrong, I was really mad at you for a long time, but I guess I understand. I’m going to live, what? Another sixty or seventy years? And you’ll still be here.

  So, I get it now. I really do.

  And my boyfriend is great. He’s kind of your exact opposite (not that I was looking for that, it just happened) except he’s tall like you. He’s Hawaiian. And gorgeous. His name is Mano, which means ‘shark’ in Hawaiian. He surfs, and he’s tan and has this amazing long, dark hair and black eyes.

  He used to be a Navy diver, but now he has his own dive shop, and he and his friend run SCUBA classes and dive trips to Catalina. I met him in May when Dez forced me to take one of his classes. He has such a great smile. He’s just…so open and honest and he’s so…great. He’s great, and he’s really good to me, and everyone likes him. He wants to go to Houston and meet Grandma and Caspar this fall.

  By the way, did Caspar tell you about Doyle and the Vietnamese vase in the entry way? I know you loved that vase, but please don’t kill the cat when you get back from…wherever you are.

  August 29, 2007

  I’m trying to be really mature and well-adjusted here, but I’m crying right now, you jerk.

  I miss you.

  I miss you so much. Why the hell are you never here? Why? Where are you? I want to feel your arms around me and sleep next to you and talk to you and tease you and I hate you, Gio. I can’t help it. I hate you.

  But I don’t really, even though I wish I did.

  I still think about you every day. And I compare every man I meet to you. And every time I smell smoke or whiskey, I turn and expect to see you there. Do you know I studied Latin so I could impress you? How pathetic, huh? At least that one might come in handy professionally at some point.

  When I bought my house, I checked how many windows were in the bedroom (just one) and imagined them with heavy drapes as if you might actually stay there at some point.

  And it’s pathetic. Because I will probably never see you again.

  I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t know if I’m going to come back next year. I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself no matter how much I love it here. Because when I’m in Cochamó, you’re everywhere.

  I should probably take this journal with me. I can’t believe I just wrote that stuff.

  Cochamó Valley

  Chile

  August 5, 2008

  Ah, ha ha. Very funny. So I threaten to take the last journal, so you take it (I’m assuming) and leave me with a new one. Clever.

  Also, what are all these journals in the bedroom? There’s got to be a couple hundred of them and they’re all in Latin. Do you expect me to work while I’m here?

  News flash: I don’t work for you anymore.

  I do love working at the Huntington, though. Such an amazing job. I only get three weeks of vacation, so only two weeks in the valley this year. Bummer. But if I skipped out on Christmas with Cas and Grandma, they’d kill me.

  August 6, 2008

  Holy shit. These are your journals. These are your whole life.

  Why did you leave these here? Are they safe? Don’t they need to be in a temperature-controlled room? And it gets really damp here in the winter. Though I suppose the bedroom is pretty good with the way it’s cut into the rock.

  I feel like I can’t leave the house now, even though they were probably here for weeks before I came and I’m sure they’re perfectly secure.

  You knew Napoleon? Really?

  Was he as insecure about his height as everyone says? You must have looked like a giant next to him.

  August 10, 2008

  These things are incredible. There’s no way I’m going to get through all of them, though. My Latin is not that good.

  So you’ve found an ingenious way of keeping me coming back here.

  Bastard.

  It’s irritating how intelligent you are sometimes.

  August 17, 2008

  I have to leave tomorrow. I hate not having more time here, but I have to go.

  Yes, I’ll come back. You knew I would.

  And just so you know, Mano and I are still together. Grandma and Caspar love him. Carwyn met him last winter when he came for a visit. I think he likes him, too. Carwyn made noises about Man
o and I sleeping together, though. I forget he’s a priest sometimes. Oops. Must be the Hawaiian shirts. You should have seen this green one he bought the last time he came to L.A. It was hideous. He loved it.

  I got a letter from Tenzin last month. She’s so…weird. In the best way, but…yeah, she’s old. Did you know she calls me every three or four months? It’s the most hilarious thing. I think whoever her human is puts it on speaker phone and Tenzin just yells. I have to hold the phone away from my ear so she doesn’t break my eardrums. I think I’m the closest thing she has to a female friend. Not that we talk about braiding our hair or anything. She said she’s going to come for a visit one of these days. Should be...interesting.

  I’m not ready to leave. I want to read more about your life. You’re very hard on yourself, Jacopo. Be kinder.

  And wherever you are, be safe.

  Cochamó Valley

  Chile

  August 5, 2009

  Four weeks of vacation now! Score. Well, I still only get three weeks paid, but they let me take an additional week off unpaid, so I’m using that to go see Grandma and Caspar for Christmas and I can take three weeks here.