In the Hamptons, where summer wealth hides centuries of quiet struggle, one woman discovers the truth about belonging, legacy, and love.
When Holly Heathway leaves Manhattan—and a relationship that nearly broke her—she arrives in the Hamptons hoping only for peace. Instead, she finds a world few outsiders ever see: a community of old farm families fighting to hold on to land that once defined their lives. She discovers untold stories and mysteries surrounding her new life.
Drawn to the quiet strength of Fred Stevenson, whose family has worked their fields since the 1600s. Holly is pulled into a story of loss, resilience, and unspoken tragedies buried beneath the glitttering surface. A bone chilling discovery in the silo prepares the way for legal battles that uncover an odd character who seems to appear just to influence the battles lost on the family farm.
As she builds a new life among firefly-lit fields, she discovers that healing comes not from escape but from connection—real, imperfect, and deeply rooted.
An emotional and heartfelt novel of second chances, family legacy, and the unexpected power of love, Hidden Hamptons reveals a side of the East End that tourists never see—and a woman who claims her
In the Hamptons, where summer wealth hides centuries of quiet struggle, one woman discovers the truth about belonging, legacy, and love.
When Holly Heathway leaves Manhattan—and a relationship that nearly broke her—she arrives in the Hamptons hoping only for peace. Instead, she finds a world few outsiders ever see: a community of old farm families fighting to hold on to land that once defined their lives. She discovers untold stories and mysteries surrounding her new life.
Drawn to the quiet strength of Fred Stevenson, whose family has worked their fields since the 1600s. Holly is pulled into a story of loss, resilience, and unspoken tragedies buried beneath the glitttering surface. A bone chilling discovery in the silo prepares the way for legal battles that uncover an odd character who seems to appear just to influence the battles lost on the family farm.
As she builds a new life among firefly-lit fields, she discovers that healing comes not from escape but from connection—real, imperfect, and deeply rooted.
An emotional and heartfelt novel of second chances, family legacy, and the unexpected power of love, Hidden Hamptons reveals a side of the East End that tourists never see—and a woman who claims her
CHAPTER 1… THE CROSSING
The John H., the largest of the Cross Sound Ferry fleet, lurched across Long Island Sound, waves tossing it like a plaything. I found myself huddled against the hull, holding my breath. I clung to the railing, seasick, the horizon my only hope against the churning sea. “Holy Mother of God!” I gasped, rain stinging my face and drenching my entire being.
This trip to the Hamptons, once a routine one between New London and Orient Point, was now a harrowing ordeal amidst the biting cold of winter’s grip. In a stormy escape from my Manhattan misery, I wondered if I might not survive this unwavering assault by Mother Nature.
I clutched the railing as I heaved; the biggest wave yet had me calling for mercy. Why am I here? What madness made me think I could ride these waves and survive?
We rolled up the next wave, rising like a roller coaster, then slammed downward against the very depths of the Sound. My stomach dropped. As I gripped the slick railing, my hands slipped. What is next? I wondered. My body contorted into a twist I couldn’t recover from, one hand losing its grip completely as I tried to adjust my position. There was a deep thud; we’d sure hit bottom. I closed my eyes, and this time it wasn’t in prayer. Waiting to be ripped from the railing and hit the ice-cold water, my body no longer felt like my own.
Loud voices suddenly burst through the roar of the storm: “Hold on, hold on!” The shouts cut through the wind as if calling for some otherworldly intervention. Other passengers had come to the outside railing for the same reason I had, but the rising and falling of the giant vessel suddenly shifted, bringing a new terror. Desperate to survive, one man grabbed the back of an attached deck bench and flopped across it, clinging like a beached walrus in an overcoat. My mind raced faster than a spinning wheel.
Another sudden jolt sent me crashing into a stranger nearby. He was in a yellow slicker, a beacon in the storm. I instinctively clutched his arm, letting go of the safety of the railing. My fingers dug into his arm; I had to stop myself from tearing the fabric. Where did he come from?
“Sorry!” I stammered, my words lost in the storm’s roar. I looked up into sparkling blue eyes, their light reminding me of a firefly’s glow. His rugged jaw, framed by wet curls, gave me the courage to trust him. His hand circled my waist, warming the skin beneath my cape as I grabbed the railing with my left hand to stabilize my stance, my other hand still holding tight to his arm.
“You’re fine,” he said, his deep voice reassuring me. “Just relax your whole body. I won’t let you go.”
I leaned into his frame, my heart racing.
“You saved my life,” I said, half-laughing. “I was going overboard!”
He grinned. “I’ve seen worse; you can take this, you are tougher than you think.”
Still supporting me with his solid stance, he hummed softly at first, as if he were calming the seas. It was a familiar sea shanty that had a soothing effect on everyone nearby. Then I heard crew members join in; a sudden chorus of voices rose as the crew broke into song, responding to the stranger's lead.
His deep voice and his words sailed above the roar of the storm:
“Oh, the times were hard and the wages low, Leave her, Johnny, leave her! And now ashore we must go, And it’s time for us to leave her! Leave her, Johnny. Leave her, Oh, Leave her, Johnny, leave her. For the voyage is done, and the winds done blown. It’s time for us to leave her.” [1]
Suddenly, the frantic activity lessened. The wind seemed calmer, the waves less fearsome, as if someone had flipped a switch, as if the song had done its intended work. It wasn’t magic, but it felt like it.
Though the storm still raged, I was regaining my footing. The terrified passengers looked less frightened, lulled into a quiet place by the melody. As the storm weakened, I got my bearings, knowing I was going to be fine.
I stepped away from the comfort of the stranger’s solid stance. My racing heart calmed. The wind had lost its grave intensity, and the swells were easing.
“Where are you going?” he asked, the wind muffling his voice.
“The Hamptons,” I replied, brushing my hair back with my hands. “Leaving Manhattan for a quieter existence in the farm fields and countryside.” My journey was ending, but it was more like a beginning.
I felt a momentary ache at his words, a heartache more for the absence of my father than for my ended relationship. This life-changing move from the big city to a small town felt like going home. Dad would have loved where I was headed. This stranger’s calm hinted at hope.
“I’m Fred Stevenson, from Sagaponack,” he said, his voice sounding heavy from the weight of something unfinished.
“I’m Holly Heathway,” I answered. “It’s been a pleasure and a relief; you are a lifesaver! And that song you sang; remarkable how you calmed everyone despite the rolling seas!” I smiled at Fred as his gaze lingered. I saw a promise of something more.
“Just a little sea shanty. Most sailors know it. It’s pretty universal, especially in these shallow waters. The waves are more unpredictable.”
“Sagaponack, huh? I’m curious, are you part of the farming community there?” Memories came to mind. Freshly plowed fields flowing from the roadway all the way to the ocean’s side; a memorable sight from the many summers I spent there.
“My family has a farm there; I’m running it right now. I'm focusing on organic farming; we need the produce to fill the demand for healthier lifestyles. People who summer in the Hamptons want the best in what they eat, so my organic produce fills that need locally.” He smiled at me, a silent nod to my apparent interest.
“I’m sure the demand is great; I know so many people who only eat organic food now. I find it fascinating. I would love to hear more about it sometime. Do you have a farm stand?”
“No, no farm stand yet; I leave that up to the Halsey’s and the Babinski's. But you can stop by the farm if you want a quick tour.” He pulled his jacket collar up against the chill.
“I’d love that! I’ll check on it sometime.” Not wanting to intrude on this stranger’s life any further, I moved to the stairwell to head below deck.
“Wait, you must surely have more to say. Like, where were you coming from just now? New London is nowhere near New York City!”
“I’ve been visiting friends in Vermont. I make this trip a lot.” Encouraged by his smile, I grinned and continued, “Seems the same goes for you. New London is nowhere near Sagaponack!”
“I’m on my way back from seeing old friends in Connecticut. It’s been a quick trip, one that I had to make while doing research for my farm. I have a few fellow organic farm friends there.” His voice carried a seriousness that seemed to seal his interest in his work.
“Well, it sounds like something I could be very interested in. That, along with my concern about the loss of so many family farms in the Hamptons. My plan is to live in the Hamptons year-round. I want to challenge the big developers by saving the few smaller properties that are left, the affordable ones.”
“That’s an enormous challenge! I’d be interested to hear more about how you intend to do that.” Fred sounded more than curious.
“Maybe we can talk about it when I come to see your farm.” Smiling, I wanted to continue the conversation, but we were pulling into the dock at Orient Point. “I’ll see you after I’ve settled in. Safe travels!”
I took his outstretched hand. He gently shook it, and I waved to him as I headed down to my car. “See you around,” he smiled. He had a long, searching look in his eyes, brimming with an unidentified emotion.
I hurried to my car, his touch lingering, guiding me toward a future I couldn’t name. Maybe he was just being kind. Did he feel the spark that I felt?
My trip to Vermont had been all about survival. Someone like Vance Sterling had once swept me away, I admitted quietly to myself. Days earlier, I had ended a years-long relationship with a man who was larger than life. He had been charming, worldly, intoxicating — the kind of man who made life feel grander than it was.
The storm left me in a trance, as if I had ridden a wild carnival ride. Or perhaps it was the man who had sung the sea shanty and soothed my fears. Whatever it was, I would not soon forget this leg of my journey. Memories of Vance Sterling were fleeting; the Hamptons demanded presence, not nostalgia.
Paula Hathaway's Hidden Hamptons…The Sagg Main Legacy, is a masterpiece of romantic suspense that blends themes of truth, legacy, justice and both romantic and family love. Holly Heathway leaves Manhattan after a broken relationship, seeking peace in the Hamptons. In the East End, she discovers a community of old farming families struggling to hold on to the land that defines them. In a world of untold stories and mysteries, she is drawn to Fred Stevenson, whose family has owned and worked their 100-acre farm since the 1600s. But Fred’s family has a sad history, and he and his father - the only surviving Stevensons - are now facing a further devastating loss. Holly is unwittingly pulled into their tragic story. As she struggles with Fred’s reluctance to involve her in his trauma, she feels a compelling attraction to his quiet strength and dignity. Eventually, her love and persistence wins over Fred’s independence and protectiveness, compelling him to let her in. The story climaxes with a chilling revelation and a distressing threat to a man you have come to know as the epitome of goodness. Holly is now compelled to balance her demanding business obligations with the challenge of saving the man she loves and the farm that defines him. Can she?
Hidden Hamptons is a powerful love story. Far from a typical shallow romance, it’s a love story with real depth - rich with characters who come to life and leap off the pages. You close the book cheering for people you feel for as close friends - people you found yourself weeping for and urging to stay strong and keep fighting, and in whose battles you felt personally invested.
A real estate professional, Paula has a deep connection to the Hamptons - the East End of Long Island, New York. Hidden Hamptons reflects her knowledge of and love for the people, culture and history of the area. Her story reflects a great respect for history and heritage and a strong desire to ensure the preservation of family legacy. She masterfully blends emotional depth with a vivid sense of place.
Take a trip with Paula. Experience life in the Hamptons. See the natural beauty of the place through her eyes, and meet the people who define the area. You will close this book feeling as though you were there, right beside Holly and Fred, watching their story unfold, striving to comfort them through their darkest hours, and cheering them on as they fight. If you love a story that truly draws you in to experience it, rather than just read about it, this is novel will delight. Read it!