IT ALL BEGAN IN ROCKAWAY

Chapter 1

"Beach 116th Street. Last stop". The voice of the train conductor came over the speakers in the last car. Ross Poldark looked out the window of the subway car as it pulls into the station. The breaks screeched to a halt and the doors slide open. He gathered his duffel bag and exited into the brightly lit and seemingly new station. The tile and steel are harsh contrasts to the old train car behind him. It was evidence of the rebuilding that had gone on over the past two years. Ross had heard stories of the devastation Hurricane Sandy had caused this town and had read up a little on its history.

The 11 mile stretch of peninsula was one of the oldest towns in New York. In the early part of the 20th century, it was known as the "Irish Riviera" as so many immigrants made their home here. In the past 15 years however, not only had the populace changed from mainly Irish to all ethnicities, this small beach town had seen its share of upheaval and tragedy. Starting with 9/11, when many residents were lost either in the towers as office workers or as first responders. Multitudes of police and firefighters came from Rockaway and the neighborhood was hit hard. It continued with a plane crashing into the quiet neighborhood only two months later, resulting not only in the death of the passengers but many on the ground when blocks were razed leaving nothing but rubble in its wake. And finally THE storm. Twelve hours of Mother Nature wreaking havoc and changing this beautiful beach town into something that looked like a war zone. Ross read what he could on this neighborhood during his trip over and was impressed with the resilience of its inhabitants. From what he had found out, after each event, the inhabitants worked together to rise from the ashes and make their town better than before. He hoped that being in this kind of atmosphere would help him find his own resilience as well.

It was this kind of determination that Ross was drawn to. He hoped his decision to come here on a whim was the right one. He needed something to look forward to and hopefully change his attitude. Now as he walked out from the train station to the street, and tilted his head up to the slowly rising sun, he felt he had.

The dawn was breaking and Ross looked around at the main street. To the north was Jamaica Bay, a body of water than ran the length of the land. Across this was a view of the New York City skyline. The buildings were a modern contrast to the seemingly rural beach town. He turned in the opposite direction, toward what he assumed was the ocean side and started to walk slowly down the street. The quiet of the early morning allowed his mind to think back to the events that led him here.

Ross hadn't planned on ending up here but he needed to leave the UK. He had just recovered from his latest altercation and had intended to go home to Cornwall and pick up where he left off. He was young, reasonably handsome, fairly well off with a ready-made business and life that he had taken for granted. However, that assumed life changed when his father died suddenly. It had taken him completed off guard and if he were honest with himself, feeling very much alone. Not to mention, guilty as well. His father had just bailed him out of another bit of trouble. This time involving a gambling debt that Ross thought he could avoid. The debtor had other ideas.

One night, while Ross was leaving his girlfriend of the moment, Ruth Ballard's house, he was jumped and given quite a beating. He hadn't see it coming as he had reluctantly lingered at the door while Ruth held on to him for one last kiss.

"Are you sure you won't stay?" Her voice was breathy in an attempt to sound seductive.

In reality she just sounded asthmatic. The grip she had on his shirt was not easing and Ross was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He just wanted to get out of there and was focused on wrestling himself out of her clutches but Ruth was a determined young woman. Petite and energetic, with wide brown eyes, she had her sights set on Ross since their school days. It only intensified in the past few years when it became clear that Ross was due to inherit quite a successful business. It made Ross the most desired and powerful men in the county. And Ruth was one of many local young ladies who tried, unsuccessfully, to get his attention and keep it. Ross had no interest in settling down at this point in his life. He was young and healthy and felt he would have plenty of time later to become the husband his father thought he should be. He let Ruth's mouth continue to play with his own so he didn't see or hear anything behind him.

"Um, Ruth," he started, wresting is head away from hers, "I really have to go. But I'll call you". Ross pulled her hands off his chest and gave her on last peck on the mouth. He turned quickly and hopped down the steps to his waiting mini Cooper, not noticing the two figures that had come up behind him. Swinging around, he was met with the first blow to his jaw. He landed on the ground, shaking his head to clear it. He tried to rise up when all of sudden he felt a searing pain on the side of his face. He put his hand to his cheek and came away with warm blood. This stunned him and he leaned against the wheel, his legs outstretched, hoping that Ruth would call for help. He closed his eyes and heard, rather than saw, the sound of something hard hitting his leg. He finally found a voice and cried out in pain. The two men jumped into their car and sped away, afraid that Ross' cries would attract the neighbors.

Luckily, Ruth heard the ruckus and ran outside at the sound of the tires screeching. Opening the door, she saw Ross crumpled on the ground, against the tire of his car. "Ross!" Ruth screamed as she ran to him. She knelt down and gathered him into her arms. She saw the gash on the side of his face and pulled the hem of her blouse up, holding it against his head, trying to stop the bleeding. She cradled him as she reached felt Ross' pockets for his phone.

"Ruth," he rasped. "I don't think now is the time for that". Looking down, she saw him trying to give her a smirk, and just shook her head.

"I'm looking for your phone, funny man."

"Back pocket".

She moved her arm underneath him, and found his iPhone. She searched his contacts for Joshua Poldark and surprisingly found him under that and not "Dad". Without thinking she hit his name waited for him to pick up. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard his voice on the other end of the line.

"Ross?" Joshua's voice sounded gravelly. Ruth realized she must have woken him up.

"Um, no Mr. Poldark, it's me, Ruth. Ruth Ballard." She paused and let her words sink in. Not hearing response she continued. "Ross has been hurt. I think you should get here right away."

"Hurt? What do you mean? Has there been an accident?" Joshua was wide awake now.

"Kind of. I really think you should just come."

"Where are you? What hospital are you at?"

"We're not at the hospital. Ross is outside my flat. I can't carry him." Ruth was starting to get hysterical. "Please. He's bleeding. Can you please just hurry?"

Upon arriving, Joshua gathered up his son and got him to the emergency room before anyone could call the police. Once Ross was able to speak, his father found out who had done this and made a few calls to handle the situation in his own way.

"That's that," Joshua said to his semi conscious son. Ross just looked up at him from the bed. His leg was elevated in a sling and his face half covered with gauze. His eyes conveyed what he couldn't or wouldn't say.

"Don't worry about it boy. It's over." Ross nodded and closed his eyes.

However his father continued. "But don't think this lets you off the hook". That got Ross' attention. His eyes opened and he tried, unsuccessfully to prop himself up in bed.

"I know you think you're young and indestructible but the truth is you're not. You're human and my only son." Joshua had never spoken in such a tone before and it took Ross by surprise. He can't remember the last time he heard any kind of emotion in his father's voice. If he though back, it was probably when his mother died and Joshua had come into Ross' room to tell him the news. Joshua didn't know that Ross had been listening to the adult's conversation and realized his mother was gone when he heard his father's sobs. It was the one and only time Ross saw his father vulnerable. Until now. Ross could see his father was struggling with something and his concern grew.

"Ross," his father started. "You have to get serious about life. I'm not a young man and soon, perhaps before you know it, I will be gone." Ross tried to sit up to say something but his father held up his hand. "Let me continue."

Ross lie back down and let out a sigh.

"I'm tired. And I want…no need…you to learn the business and make sure it survives. It's our family legacy and I don't want it going to rot. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Ross whispered.

"Good. You need to settle down, find a wife and make Nampara your home."

Ross rolled his eyes, but hoped his father didn't see. Unfortunately, Joshua did catch a glimpse of his son's reaction.

"I saw that." The tone was scolding, just like Ross used to hear when he tried to steal a nip of brandy from his father's glass.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Just heed what I say. When you get out of here, I expect you to take up residence at one of the junior partners desks and learn the ropes of our company. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."
Joshua was pleased and gave Ross a half smile. "Perfect." He reached over and gave him a pat on his shoulder. "Now get some rest and I'll be back tomorrow."

Tomorrow never came. In the middle of the night, a nurse woke him with the news that his father had been brought into the emergency room after suffering a massive coronary. Their longtime servant, Jud Paynter, rode in with him after finding Joshua on the floor of the library, unconscious.

Ross didn't know how to react; so many adjectives came to mind: shocked, numb, sad, scared to name a few.

Shocked. It had only been a few hours since he'd seen his dad. He seemed fine. No sign of any kind of health issue. At least not that Ross knew. His father was good at keeping secrets; maybe being sick was one of them.

Numb because Ross didn't really react to any kind of life event. The last time was his mother's death. Every major thing that happened after that was just an incident and didn't warrant any expenditure of emotions.

Sad. That's what you're supposed to feel, right? That's what ran through his head. He should feel like crying or screaming or something. Nothing was coming. Nothing.

Scared. Yeah, Ross found himself scared. A new concept for him as nothing has ever scared him. Not even getting beaten up. Maybe that was easy because he knew what he was facing then. Now he was dealing with a very big unknown. Joshua was his last relative. He had no one. And what was even scarier was that his father was right. He needed to grow up and take responsibility for a real life. This playing at being an adult now had to end. He actually had to do it.

He had been injured right before his release and while recovering, found out that his father had died. Ross knew he had to go home to see what was left of his life but was no longer sure if that was his future. Upon arriving back at Nampara he quickly realized that he didn't belong there anymore. His father was his last relative and tie to this house so with him gone, Ross saw no reason to stay. His father's plan was for Ross to start working at the business, learn the ropes and then go back to school and get some sort of business degree. And of course find a wife, preferably someone like Ruth. Young, pretty, somewhat clever, from a prominent family who could give Ross heirs. But that wasn't for him. As much as he wanted to please his father and keep the family legacy going, Ross didn't want it to happen now. Something inside his restless soul was telling him that this is not the time for him to become a country squire. He admitted to himself that the life he'd been living was a bit of a waste but that was no reason to take the opposite road and just settle for the easy way out. He knew that outside his Cornwall, there was something more; something that he needed to find. Ross wasn't sure what that was or where to even start looking but he knew it wasn't here.

So after settling his father's will, he took some of his inheritance and headed west to the States. He felt a total change of scenery was what he needed. Starting over in a place that seemingly had no resemblance to home was probably the best thing to help him heal physically and mentally.

Now walking down Beach 116th Street, he felt an uncanny connection to this town. He had wanted to go to place that was as far from his Cornish sea town and yet here he was, walking down the street towards the Atlantic. He still felt he made the right choice. Rockaway was healing from being broken and battered as was Ross. The new storefronts and clean streets gave no indication that a few years before these places were just shells of long existing family businesses. Yet he wondered if they were just facades and hid any of the pain inside as he did.

Making his way toward the ocean side, he shifted the bag from one shoulder to the other, hoping to ease the strain on his still weak leg. Shrapnel still remained in his ankle as an aching reminder of his life in Cornwall. The more dramatic scar on his left cheek was still red and raw looking. Ross knew how lucky he was to not have lost that eye. He was grateful everyday for that small favor and that the physical discomfort and change of his face was a small price to pay for the foolishness that caused it.

Ross saw the boardwalk in front of him and picked up his pace just a bit. He was anxious to see just exactly what made this town so enviable and to be honest he hadn't realized how much he missed the ocean and the smell of the sea air until it was upon him again. As he approached the concrete ramp he passed an old building with a weather beaten sign: "Boards & Beers". The metal rolling doors were down and were covered with brightly painted scenes of waves, surfers and boards that stood out against the gunmetal of the gates. The colors and retro design seemed out of place on this newly renovated block. It caught Ross' eye and he made note to come back to this place when it was opened to see what it was all about.

He made his way to a bench on the boardwalk, dropped his bag and sat down, leaning back and putting his feet up on the railing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let the salt air fill his lungs and felt the tension from his journey leave his body. He kept his eyes closed and listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the rock jetties. For a moment, it sounded like home as the seas of Cornwall could be rough and untamed. His father often compared Ross to that as well; wild and unconventional. Ross knew his father loved him but he was never quite sure he liked him. He regretted not having had the chance to talk to his dad about his own dreams and plans or to tell him that he loved him. He was letting those thoughts run through his head when he heard a dog barking. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked out in front of him at the horizon and saw a golden, wire-haired dog staring at the incoming waves. Ross' gaze followed the dog's line of vision and was drawn to something red and blue bobbing in the water. He kept staring and squinted, trying to figure out what it was when a swell rose and the crimson object came fully into view. It was then that Ross saw a mane of red hair tied in a ponytail on the head of a very lithe body. The surfer hopped up on a board and started to paddle to catch the wave. He realized immediately it was a girl and fairly accomplished surfer as well. The color of her hair stood out against her electric blue rash guard. Ross continued to watch as she got her balance and stood to ride the wave in. The dog barked and jumped furiously as she approached shore. She hopped off the board and walked toward the mutt. Letting the board plop to the ground, she dropped down to her knees and scratched the dog behind the ears and seemed to be talking to him in an attempt to calm him down. She picked up a towel that lay on the sand, pulled out the hair tie and proceeded to rub her hair dry. Ross continued to watch from his position and found that he naturally was drawn to this mysterious figure. He hoped he'd get a chance to meet her.

Demelza Carne stopped drying her hair and sat down on the board, taking a few more minutes on the beach before having to start her day. This was her favorite time to be here. Pre dawn hours gave her the time to relish the quiet beauty of the ocean and sand. It was the time when only the most die-hard surfers were out riding. There were days when the waves were so good and the ocean full of surfers; it looked like a competition that could give Hawaii a run for its money. Even on those days, the riders respected each other's space and Demelza was able to just lose herself in the water, sky and speed. The beach was her sanctuary. It was the place where she was the happiest. Having been born and bred here, she could never imagine leaving. The sand was in her shoes and she would never want to shake it out, even if her current life was less than perfect.

Her mother had died when she was in middle school which made those awkward teenage years even harder. Especially with a father that felt the loss extremely hard. She hadn't realized how much her mother was the backbone of the family until she was gone and their family was left floundering. It became Demelza's job to keep the house running as usual in addition to keeping the family business going so it didn't fail as well as try to finish high school. Once she graduated Beach Channel High School, Demelza went to work full time at their store and would give surf lessons on the side. Her father would pop in and out when he wasn't "under the weather", the phrase Demelza used instead of the truth, which was drunk. Her father had turned to the bottle to cope with the loneliness and to avoid taking responsibility for their lives. So she grew up fast.

Yet all during these turbulent years, the ocean and surfing were her outlet. No matter what was going on she could come to the beach, get on her board and for a few minutes, and forget everything but the ride. Today was one of those days. Her dad had a bad night and took it out on Demelza. Her arm was still soar where he grabbed her but not painful enough to keep her from her ride. She tipped her head back, letting her hair fall down her back while the rising sun bathed her face. Her dog Garrick romped near the shore, digging where clam holes made bubbles. Realizing that she needed to get her day going and that she should get out of her surf garb, Demelza rose and grabbed her gear. She walked toward back of the beach towards where Ross was sitting and saw his figure sitting there. She was curious as to who could be out at this hour since only locals ventured to the beach before sunlight. Before she could stop him, Garrick ran towards the new person, leaving Demelza to try and catch up to him.

"Garrick!" she called. "Come back here."

Ross bent down and started petting Garrick. The dog responded by wagging his tail and rubbing his muzzle against Ross' leg. He looked up and saw the ginger haired surfer approach. As she got closer, Ross could see her face clearly now. Her skin was fair and smooth as porcelain, stark against the red hair that framed her face. But it was her eyes that held his attention. They were the color of the sea she just emerged from combined with the electric blue of the rash guard that accentuated her body. Her legs seemed to go on for days from the boy trunks she wore.

"I'm sorry, "she said. "Garrick usually doesn't like strangers. Besides no one is ever here at this hour."

"No problem", Ross replied. "He seems very friendly".

"Depends. Must be something about you he likes."

"Guess I should be flattered."

The girl tilted her head at the sound of his voice. She stared at him and an awkward silence followed. Ross spoke first to break it.

"You were really good out there."

"Thanks. The waves aren't the best today but I got a couple of runs in."

"Well, you were pretty incredible. I'm guessing you've been doing this a long time? You're a native I take it"

The girl blushed as she fiddled with the ends of her hair and leaned against the metal railing facing him. Ross searched her face for something but he didn't know what. This girl was different from anyone he'd met before and he was fascinated. The red head looked at him mischievously.

"You're smart, aren't you?" she remarked.

"Some would say so." He gave her a small smile. "And you're not." she blurted out.

Ross was perplexed. "Not what?"

"A native". Now she smiled at him.

"What gave it away?" Ross gave her glance and waited for her answer. The fascination he found in her was slowly morphing into something close to smitten.

"Let's just say your English sounds just like that, English."Ross chuckled and the girl joined in. Garrick sat at their feet looking up at the two of them. Ross held out his hand.

"Ross Poldark"

The girl took it and looking him straight in the eye, answered.

"Demelza Carne"