The Lightkeeper's Bride

by Colleen Coble

  Her spirits lifted but she told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that she was going to find Will. The safest path to the beach led out to the road and back past the rocky hillside to the rocky sand. Billowing clouds carried the tang of rain to her nose. Orioles sang in the bushes along the hill.

  She saw a figure striding away from the dock. The long stride and the wide shoulders brought a smile to her face. How odd that she could recognize Will from such a distance. As he neared, she realized he seemed to be gazing off into the horizon as though he was deep in thought. He didn’t see her until he was five feet away. The faraway expression changed to sharp awareness that made her heartbeat race.

  “You’re back,” he said, stopping when he reached her. “Have a splendid time?” His tone was wry.

  “Very nice,” she muttered, not wanting to think of Bart now. “I thought I’d take a walk and intercept you. There’s something I want to show you.”

  A teasing smile came. “I’m crushed. I thought you came out to greet me because you missed me.”

  She couldn’t help but return his smile, but she didn’t know how to respond to his words. Was he actually flirting with her? Sometimes in the night she remembered the way his eyes had opened after his near drowning and he’d stared into her soul. She could taste again the salty flavor of his lips. How cold he’d been. Some connection had been forged in that moment and she didn’t know what to make of it.

  “What, no response?” he asked. “I guess that means you didn’t miss me. So what did you want to show me?”

  “This.” She pulled the note from her pocket and handed it over. “I found it in my father’s safe the day the smallpox epidemic broke out.

  At the time, I had no idea what it meant, and I quite forgot about it.”

  He took it from her fingers, unfolded it, and looked it over. “Your father’s handwriting?”

  “No. I don’t recognize the handwriting.”

  “It sounds as though he was involved with the piracy.”

  She winced at the definitive tone in his voice. “I still can’t quite believe it. There’s more,” she said slowly, the words pulled from her tongue. “I spoke with my father today. He admitted to me that he knows something of this matter.” When Will’s face darkened, she rushed on. “He’s not a bad man. He thought no one would be harmed.” Even as the words spilled out, she realized how utterly ridiculous her statement sounded. She rubbed her forehead. “He has his faults but this shocks me.”

  “What faults?”

  Did she trust him enough to tell him the truth? Yes. “He is the kindest man on the face of the earth, as long as he isn’t drinking.

  When he imbibes alcohol, he changes.”

  “Many men do.” He took her hand and she allowed it, finding the warmth of his touch comforting. “He has struck you?”

  “Not physically. Only with his words.”

  “That can be even more painful. He is kind to your mother?”

  She nodded. “Always. She makes excuses for him. Often months, even a year or two, go by between bouts of drinking. He usually only drinks when things aren’t going well for him in some arena of his life.”

  “Has he been drinking lately?”

  She hesitated then nodded, still clinging to his hand. “I’d begun to hope he had tamed his demons.”

  “Do you know what has not gone well for him?”

  “His business is struggling.”

  One brow rose. “Perhaps he became involved in the theft of the gold to dig his way out of a financial hole,” Will said.

  “He admitted as much to me today.”

  He appeared lost in thought for a moment. “I have to admit something, Katie. I had to tell the constable about finding your father’s watch.”

  She flinched, and a sense of betrayal tightened her throat. “You know what he will assume. That Papa murdered Eliza and dropped his watch while he was disposing of the body.”

  “Perhaps that is what happened.”

  “I know my father. He would never do something like that.”

  He kept a tight grip on her fingers. “His involvement with Eliza may have spiraled him into something quite out of character. A beautiful woman can make a man quite lose his head.”

  His words were almost tender. Katie’s gaze darted to his face and found him staring at her with such an intent expression that the moisture in her mouth dried instantly. His gaze dropped to her lips. His grip on her fingers tightened. He was going to kiss her.

  She jerked her hand away and stepped back. “We must be getting back,” she said, feeling out of breath, as if she’d just run down the beach.

  The disappointment in his eyes matched an ache building in her chest.

  TWENTY-TWO

  WILL GLANCED AT Katie from across the table. She’d been quiet and withdrawn since they returned from the beach. Had she sensed he had nearly lost his head and kissed her, or was she still upset that he’d told the constable about the watch? The thought that she had run from him was quite discouraging. Maybe she had no feelings for him.

  Jennie picked up a piece of jam and bread between her forefinger and thumb in the pincher movement he found so amusing. She looked at it then threw it to the bird, who was waiting for just such an opportunity. Paco gobbled up the tidbit. She giggled and threw down another piece. Strawberry jam smeared her face.

  “It’s your supper, not the bird’s,” he said.

  She puckered at the rebuke in his voice, and he quickly gave her a sip of milk from her cup. Her milky smile as he put it back down was a reward in itself. He offered her a spoonful of potato and she accepted it, though her brown eyes studied his face. She was a most charming baby. He glanced at his brother, who was writing in a notebook. Not that Philip seemed to notice her. He shook his head.

  Surely there would be some sort of biological pull if the two were related . . .

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather tired tonight,” Lady Carrington said. “I think I shall retire and read for a while.”

  “I’ll come help you,” Katie said.

  “I think I shall try to prepare for bed by myself tonight. My arm is getting much better. Did you see your mother when you were in town today, Katie? You never said.”

  “No, the quarantine is still in effect. I’m forbidden to enter the house for at least another week to ten days.”

  “I thought perhaps you stepped into the yard and conversed through the window.”

  “Bart was with me, and he was reluctant to let me endanger my health.”

  Lady Carrington nodded. “Wise, I’m sure, my dear.” She rose. “Good night.”

  Will echoed the good nights. Even Jennie chattered something that sounded like “night.” The tiny girl waved her chubby hands toward the older woman then tossed another piece of bread to the bird.

  Philip stood and stretched. “I do believe I’ll wander down to the quay and see what’s going on. See if I can dig up any more information about tomorrow.”

  Will narrowed his eyes. He watched in tight-lipped silence as Philip gave them a casual wave, then strode out of the kitchen. He was probably on his way to play poker under the guise of doing detective work. Which was probably the best way to obtain information, but . . .

  Katie seemed to sense his agitation. She stood and began to clear the table. “I’ll do the dishes if you can mind Jennie for fifteen minutes.”

  “She’s still eating. I’ll help you.”

  That brought her out of her fog. Her eyes were clear as she glanced at him. “You want to help with dishes?”

  “I’m good at washing if you want to dry.”

  She smiled. “I do believe I would pay to see such a thing.”

  “The only payment I would exact is a round of checkers after Jennie is down for the night.”

  “Seems cheap enough. We can discuss the case over the game.”

  He’d hoped to speak of his growing feelings but it was clear she wanted to avoid such a topic. “Very well.”
/>   After depositing the dishes into the sink, she took the kettle from the wood range and poured hot water into the sink. She added soap flakes and swished it. “Your turn,” she said, her smile widening.

  He grinned and plunged his hands into the hot, soapy water. As he washed the dishes, he handed them to her to rinse in a tub of clean water.

  “How did you learn to wash dishes?” she asked.

  “I often helped my mother.”

  She shot a quick glance his way. “Just you? Not Philip?”

  He shook his head. “He was more likely to be out playing.”

  “Are your parents still alive?”

  His smile faded. “They died in the Galveston hurricane.”

  She put down the dish she was drying. “Oh Will, I’m so sorry.

  That must have been terrible.”

  “The worst of it is that it could have been prevented if anyone had listened to the early weather warnings.”

  “Weather warnings? You mean specific to the day? Not the almanac?”

  He shook his head. “There are many scientists who are working to forecast the weather. A warning was issued about the hurricane but no one paid any heed. There is still much skepticism about the accuracy of the forecasts. We are getting more accurate every day.”

  “We?” she asked. “Do you forecast the weather as well as care for the lighthouse?”

  He grinned. “Sounds quite outlandish, doesn’t it? Weather is my passion though.”

  “Is that why I saw you with a balloon?”

  “Yes. It collects data from the upper atmosphere.”

  “How very fascinating,” she said.

  “I’d like to do it full time someday,” he said, surprising himself with the admission.

  She smiled and her eyes lit with amusement.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “I thought you might join your brother in the investigation business. You are naturally curious. Just like me.”

  He grinned. “No one is that nosy. I’m only helping Philip because I saw that ship being seized.”

  The baby jabbered something with a lot of vowels as though in approval. He noticed her tray was empty. “Are you done, little one?” He handed the last dish to Katie.

  “Done,” she echoed, lifting her arms toward him.

  Katie laughed. “Did you hear that? She actually said a word.”

  “She’s smart,” he said.

  “I’ll clean her up,” Katie said. She put down the plate in her hand.

  “I’ve got it.” He grabbed a clean towel and wet it, then wiped the goo from Jennie’s face. She squirmed and wailed at the indignity then gave him a smile when he removed the tray from her high chair and lifted her in his arms. She planted an open-mouthed kiss on his cheek.

  He turned from the table to intercept a strange expression on Katie’s face. Softness lurked in her eyes, and a half smile lifted her lips. Their gazes locked, and he saw that awareness flash into her eyes again. His pulse lurched. He wished he had the nerve to kiss her.

  The log in the fireplace glowed and danced with flames. The heat was welcome with the damp chill creeping into the room from the rain sluicing down the windows. Katie arranged the checker pieces on the board table then pulled an armchair close. Will carried in a kitchen chair and set it down across from her. She draped a shawl around her shoulders and settled on the cushion.

  “I play a mean game of checkers,” she said.

  “I’ve got an hour before I have to wind the light again.”

  She smiled, though her heart ached. The last time she’d played had been with her father. They often had a game after dinner. Would those times ever come again? So much had changed.

  “Is Jennie sleeping?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It didn’t take her long. Is Philip still gone?”

  He glanced at the window. “I wound the light and started the foghorn. I’ll have to check on things in a few hours. I doubt Phillip will be back until late.”

  At his remote tone, she lifted a curious glance to his face. “You’re the oldest?” The Galveston hurricane had been in 1900—eight years ago. Philip would have been thirteen. “Is it just the two of you?”

  “And my sister, Ellen.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Following her dreams. She’s been crazy about babies ever since she was a child. She’s a midwife in Boston.”

  She smiled at his indulgent tone. “How old is she?”

  He thought a moment. “Twenty-five, I think.”

  “And unmarried?” Philip and Will were both handsome and she imagined Ellen was a dark-haired beauty as well.

  His smile was wry. “She’d be the first to march in a voting rights for women parade. The man who marries her will have to be the adventurous, strong sort.”

  Ellen sounded like someone Katie would like. “I hope I get a chance to meet her.”

  “I’ve invited her to spend the summer with me.”

  She stacked several of her checkers together and tried to ignore the way her pulse skittered when he looked at her. Strange that she’d known him such a short time and yet he was the first thing she thought of every morning when she awakened.

  He pushed a checker forward to another square. “You know this area. Are there any inlets or hidden coves along the shore where we might look for that ship? If we had found it by now, we might’ve had a clue on how to stop what is to happen tomorrow.” He rubbed his head. “But that’s not my worry, as the constable is quick to tell me. And Philip is the private eye, not me.”

  She sat back in the chair and considered the question. “My father owned a sailboat for a time, and my family explored the coastline from here to Oregon over several summers. There are plenty of places to hide a ship. The trees grow thick, and unless someone enters the bays and inlets, one would never see it.”

  “Anything in particular come to mind?”

  She started to shake her head then stopped. “There is a river that is navigable in the spring floods. A side stream leads off to a small lake, but part of the year you can’t take a boat in or out of the lake. Anything still there in July is stuck until the following spring. There is also a small inlet about ten miles up the coast. My family and I stumbled on it accidentally during a storm. You can’t see it from the ocean until you get close.”

  “Those are possible places to look. Anywhere else?”

  She found it difficult to think with those midnight eyes on her. They’d been to so many locations in her father’s boat. “There’s one other place. It’s a deserted island inside a cove. On the backside, nearer to the land, is an inlet into the center of the island. Those are the only possible areas I can remember.”

  He moved the checkers around on the board. “Thanks. Would you mind showing us where they are after tomorrow?”

  “Of course. Weather permitting.” She smiled. “You’re so interested in weather, perhaps you can predict what tomorrow will bring. What did your balloon indicate?”

  He rose and grabbed a small notebook on the desk under the window. Flipping it open, he stepped to a spot beside her and showed her rows of neatly printed numbers. “These are temperatures, barometric pressures, and humidity.”

  The numbers made no sense to her, but she enjoyed seeing the way his voice rose and the color came to his face. And he was close enough that her mouth went dry. “What do they tell you?”

  He jabbed at the page. “Things are pretty stable right now except for this slight dip in barometric pressure. This light rain will intensify, and a real storm could be headed our way.”

  “How interesting.” She had trouble marshaling her thoughts with him so close. Being with Bart didn’t affect her pulse or her breathing.

  It was disconcerting. She liked the predictable. Bart was dependable and well respected. That was better than exciting. This pull she felt toward Will was something to be fought, not embraced.

  She pushed a checker to the next square. “What do you do with all those numbers?�
��

  The light in his eyes faded. “Whenever it’s possible, I call my observations in to the Weather Bureau.”

  “And they compile it with other numbers?”

  He nodded. “There are many amateur meteorologists around.”

  She liked seeing his eyes lighting with passion. “Only amateur? Is it possible to make a living at weather forecasting?”

  “If I moved to one of the major centers and worked there, I could make enough to live on.”

  The glow in his face died and she wanted to see it come back. “I see you have much passion for it. You could try for a job and see where it led.”

  “I’ve thought about it. I like what I’m doing now, but mostly because it gives me the chance to study the weather and tides. Besides, this way I’m close to Philip and can help him stay focused on making a success of his business.”

  “It’s not your responsibility to care for him,” she said. “He’s a grown man.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Someone else in this room feels responsible for other adults.”

  Her cheeks grew hot. “That’s different. My parents need me.”

  “It’s exactly the same. Your parents should feel responsible for you, not the other way around.”

  “My father has always been a good provider. I’m sure he’s shattered by his failure.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “No money to live on?” His voice held sympathy.

  “Hardly anything. The house is too expensive to keep up. I expect we shall have to sell it and get a smaller place in town. Mama will be devastated. She was born in that house.”

  He frowned. “I’ll make Philip split the finder’s fee with you if your tips on the location of the ship earn out. The gold will be long gone but the ship itself is worth something.”

  She gasped. “Seriously?”

  “Of course.”

  “How much would that be?” She began to calculate expenses. Maybe she could pay off Florence too.