Forever Mine

by Charlene Raddon

  "Don't you call my mother that. And I am not a bastard," Ariah blurted, this time in English. "My parents were legally married."

  "Not legal!" Xenos shouted. "Not in eye of church."

  "The church isn't God, Uncle Xenos," she retorted, wiping rain from her face. "And neither are you. You've no right to exact vengeance. That is for God to do. Not you."

  Seamus had been glancing back and forth between them. Now he said angrily, "Ye lied, man? Ye ain't here to replace the Head Keeper?"

  "No, he is here for me," Ariah said. "Pritchard, Seamus, would you leave us alone? My uncle and I have much to discuss."

  "Wait a minute, Ariah," Pritchard objected. "This is the first chance I've had to meet any of your kin."

  He extended a hand to the small man, oblivious to the dark undercurrents swirling about them. "I'm Pritchard Monteer, Ariah's husband."

  Xenos cast him a disdainful glance and ignored the hand. "I am too late?" he asked Ariah. "You are married to this man?"

  "Yes, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you may as well give up your vendetta, Uncle Xenos. Go home to Greece. You've done all the damage you can do to my family."

  "You marry in Greek Orthodox Church?"

  "No, but—"

  "Then it is not legal and of no consequence."

  "Hey!" Pritchard cut in. "What do you mean by that?"

  Xenos ignored the young man. Hatred fired his blue eyes and sculpted his mouth in a sneer. "I return to Greece, yes. But only when I can once again face my papou, my grandfather, with pride. This cannot be until Polassis family has retrieved honor stolen so long ago by English dog who got you off my fool sister."

  "Papa stole nothing from you," she cried. "He loved Mana, and she loved him."

  "Love!" Xenos Polassis spat on the ground. "That is what I give for love. You are child, what do you know of love?"

  Ariah stiffened. Her brilliant blue eyes, so like his, darkened. "I know more of love than you ever will. Your heart is too empty, too frozen, to feel love, but I have suffered its pain." Tears blurred her vision. She blinked to clear them, her head held high. "And known its joy."

  Grinning, Pritchard grabbed her hand. "Ariah, are you saying that you love me?"

  She yanked herself free. "Stay out of this, Pritchard. It doesn't concern you."

  Hurt and perplexed, he stared at her. "But you're my wife, who else . . .?"

  Xenos glared at him. "You forget you ever had wife, eh, little man? You find another." He crooked his hand at Ariah, motioning for her to come to him. The look he gave the other two men dared them to interfere. "Come, you go with me."

  "No!" She spun out of his reach, moving closer to the edge of the bluff. She could not trust Xenos. He would kill her the minute they were out of sight of the station.

  Her skirts billowed in the fierce wind, pressing against her legs so that she had to lean into the gale to keep from being forced backward. The wind whistled shrilly in her ear, seeming to taunt her. The crazy notion of giving in, of letting the wind carry her over the brink to the wild, crashing waves below, wove through her panicked thoughts.

  Xenos started toward her. "You do as I say. No woman defies Xenos Polassis."

  "No Greek woman, maybe," Ariah snarled back. "But I am American, and free. I choose my own husband, my own home, and," she added, glancing over her shoulder at the sea so far below, "if I am to die today, I will choose my own way to go."

  Xenos raised his hand. Whether he would have struck her or aided the wind by giving her a gentle nudge, she would never know, for Old Seamus stepped forward to grab the man's arm.

  "Belay that, lad. Don't like to shove me oar in where it don't belong, but I won't be havin' ye hurt the lassie."

  Xenos shook him off with a Greek curse.

  "I don't understand," Pritchard protested. "What's going on here?"

  "'Tis clear as sunshine to anybody but a corkbrain," Seamus muttered. "The lassie's uncle here has it in his noggin' to make off with yer wife. It's why she come here in the first place, to hide out. Bartholomew told me 'fore he cut an' run."

  Pritchard looked at Ariah. "You came here to hide from your uncle? I'm your husband, Ariah. Why did you tell Uncle Bart and not me?"

  Ariah gave an exasperated sigh. "I didn't want to frighten you, Pritchard. Your advertisement for a bride explained that she would be living in a very isolated spot. I hoped Uncle Xenos wouldn't be able to find me here."

  All he heard was that she had worried about frightening him. The words struck him at his most vulnerable spot. Did his cowardice show so plainly that even she had noticed? She hadn't hesitated to tell Uncle Bart her fears. Anger surged through him toward his wife for seeing through him so easily, toward his uncle for being the man Pritchard wished he could be, and wasn't. Most of all, toward himself.

  "I'm sorry, Pritchard. As my only living relative, he could easily have gotten the courts to assign him as my legal guardian." Her gaze focused guiltily upon her young husband. "I needed a husband, a man who could protect me."

  Pritchard straightened and firmed his spine. Whatever her reasons for answering his ad, whatever she thought of his courage, she belonged to him now. For once in his life, he was going to prove that he could act with honor and bravery.

  "And that's what you got, a man to protect you." He stepped beside her and faced Xenos. "I'm sorry, sir, but you're not taking my wife anywhere."

  A barrage of angry Greek words burst from Xenos. With one hand he snatched at Ariah's arm, with the other he reached inside his coat. When Seamus moved to interfere, Xenos pulled out a gun and whacked the old man on the head. Seamus slumped to the ground, his corncob pipe falling to the mud. Ariah screamed. She tried to go to the old seaman, but Xenos held her back.

  "Get away, unless you want the same," Xenos warned Pritchard. "Almost twenty years I have given of my life to restore family honor and appease Papou for not watching my sister closer and letting her shame herself. Many times I go back to Greece in disgrace because I no find Demetria. Now I am old. I deserve to go home, sit in plaza, drink ouzo with friends, dance, watch grandsons grow big. Is right."

  Pritchard swallowed hard as he stared at the cold steel barrel of the gun pointed his way. His knees began to shake, but he did not move. "Ariah is my wife, sir. You can't just take her from me."

  "You did not marry in church; in God's eyes this is not legal. Now get aside or I shoot."

  "Please, do as he says." Ariah tried to nudge her husband away from her, but he was rooted to the ground. The fool would get himself killed, just as her father had.

  Rage boiled inside her. Knowing that to spit on a Greek was the worst insult she could offer, she spat at his feet. "I spit on you, Uncle Xenos. I am your zonia, your kinswoman, yet you value your goats more than me. Why should I give up my life to make some old man in Greece happy and get him off your back for you?"

  "Arketa! Enough, woman!" he shouted back. "I am elder. To me you give respect."

  "Why should I? You hounded my parents and denied my mother her homeland." Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks as she raved at him. "You helped put Mana in her grave with all your hate and vengeance. Still, you weren't satisfied, so you killed my father. I detest you, do you hear me? All Papa ever did was love my mother with all his heart and make her life one of goodness and joy. What gave you the right to take him from us?"

  In fury, she lunged at Xenos. Too angry to fear the gun he held, she clawed at his rain-drenched face. "You killed him, damn you. You killed him."

  Pritchard tried to pull her off, while Xenos shielded his face with his arm.

  "Holly Hector, Ariah. You want to get us shot?"

  "I don't care, I don't care." She leaned her head against him and let the tears, the pain and the animosity she had kept bottled up since her father's death burst free. "He took my father from me. My home, my friends, everything I ever knew in life. I didn't even dare go to Papa’s funeral. Damn him! Damn him!"

  "Arketa! Make her to be silent," Xenos
demanded.

  "How did you find me? Why did you show up now?" she cried.

  Xenos smiled and tapped a forefinger to his temple. "I use cunning, sneak into house of man . . . what is American term? Lawyer, yes, in lawyer's house I find note. It say Ariah Scott, Cape Meares Lighthouse, Oregon. I ask questions, find out where is this Oregon. When I arrive I go in tavern to ask how do I get to lighthouse. Big man comes up, gives me welcome to become keeper in his place. Thinks because I work my way here on ship and look like sailor, I must be man he is expecting. I say to myself, here is chance to surprise my slippery niece."

  Ariah moaned. "Oh, Bartholomew."

  "Yes," Xenos said. "That is name of man who send me here." He bowed arrogantly. "When I am home, I will pay for a blessing to be said for this Bartholomew."

  His words brought to Ariah a memory from the stories her mother had told her of her people, and how they feared having curses placed on them. Breaking free from her husband's grip, Ariah faced her uncle, glaring at him with all the venom she could muster in her wet, bedraggled state.

  "I curse you, Xenos Polassis. It is wrong to visit the sins of the fathers on the heads of the children, do you hear me? It's wrong. You are wrong, and you'll suffer for it, I promise you. Plutarch was right; your own villainy will be your downfall. I only pray that I be allowed to witness it and that your end be as bloody and senseless as the one you inflicted on my father."

  "Okhi! No!" Xenos paled. "I did only what was right."

  Dramatically, she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You did the devil's work, and I curse you for it, Xenos Polassis. Only if you leave and never come back can you escape it."

  Flustered, Xenos tried to regain control of the situation. "Curse me all you want, but I will see this finished. If you want the man you call husband and the old one left unharmed, you will tell them to stand away, and come with me."

  "No!" Ariah stared at him in calm defiance.

  Outraged, Xenos struck out. The air rang with sound as his hand made contact with her jaw. Her head snapped from the blow and she reeled backward toward the cliff.

  Instinctively, Pritchard retaliated with a strength he hadn't known he owned. Xenos's trigger finger flexed as nose tissues and bones shattered beneath the young man's fist. The gun fired, drowning out Ariah's scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fear rode Bartholomew like a solid steel saddle. He cursed, prayed, cursed again. The muddy road was treacherous even for the sure-footed bay, slowing their pace so that the other men were able to catch up to them. Cal, on a dappled mare, drew up alongside. He had to shout to be heard over the trees thrashing in the keening wind and driving rain.

  "Doc's plumb tuckered out, Bart, and the horses will be dropping out from under us if we don't rest them soon."

  "I know," he growled. "Let's get off the road into the damn trees where we'll have some shelter. I'll give them an hour, no more."

  Cal did well to get Bartholomew to wait out the promised hour before the man was back in the saddle and on his way, the others plodding wearily along behind. Bartholomew chafed at every delay with barely concealed fury. The others kept their distance and spoke in low monotones, but—too busy worrying and scrutinizing the inner workings of his mind and heart—he never noticed.

  Cal was right; he had been an absolute fool to turn the woman he loved over to another man without even a whisper of argument. Self-denial and deprivation had been so thoroughly ingrained into Bartholomew by the pattern of his life that he never questioned the rightness of it. With the mute acceptance of a blind mule, he had allowed a false sense of honor to lead him astray. It shamed him to realize how little care he had given to Ariah's feelings, how little faith he had held in her ability to choose her own way. Her own man.

  She had given him her heart, as well as her virgin's body. Why had he walked away from her? Cal had accused him of running because he didn't know how to handle happiness. There had been no bounty of it in his time on earth, that was certain.

  "All your life you've had to give, give, give, until you no longer knew how to accept, how to take," Cal had told him, poking a finger at his brother's chest. "You're right, it's time for a change, but inside here where it counts. Concern for others is good, but you can't let it rule you. The Lord doesn't serve up happiness on a silver platter while we wallow in self-pity. We have to prove we deserve it by accepting nothing less for ourselves. And for those we love."

  Pretty words that hid a mountain of truth.

  Right now, as Bartholomew and the bay trudged in agonizing slowness through the thick mud, he felt as though that entire mountain had tumbled down on top of him. Dread weighted his shoulders and tore at his heart. When he wasn't cursing fate's trickery, mother nature's treachery, or himself, he was praying. Praying they were wrong about what might be happening at the lighthouse. Praying that when they got there, he would find his nymph safe and well.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  The explosion of the gun deafened Ariah. Smoke clouded her eyes. Through the haze, she saw her husband falter. The blast nearly knocked him from the bluff, but he managed to stay on his feet. With a grunt of pain, he grabbed his shoulder. Crimson liquid oozed between his fingers and down the back of his hand, to be quickly washed away by the rain. He paled at the sight. His pleading gaze flew to Ariah, as though he expected her to make everything right. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the earth.

  "Pritchard!" Ariah was trying to find his pulse when she was roughly snatched back to her feet. The cold metal of a revolver pressed into her temple. She caught a whiff of gunpowder before the wind whisked it away.

  "Now, it is your turn," Xenos whispered close to her ear. "The dishonor of Polassis family will at last be wiped away."

  Rain streamed down her face and plastered her dress to her slim body as she struggled to break free. "Let me go. My husband's hurt. I have to tend him."

  "He would be well had you done as you were told. His death sits on your pretty head, little English bastard."

  "You're the bastard."

  Xenos grunted as she landed a well-aimed blow to his shin with the toe of her boot. Greek curses filled the air. She lunged for the gun but he snatched it aside. Her racing heart pounded in her ear, nearly obliterating the noise of the storm. He was a small man, but wiry and strong. Much too strong for Ariah. Her foot slipped in the mud and he managed to snare her about the waist with his arm.

  Once more she felt the icy cold of metal against bare flesh. The click of the hammer being drawn back was drowned out by a blast of thunder that shook the earth. Lightning glanced off the rod on the lighthouse roof. In the glare, as she waited for Xenos's bullet to ram into her brain, she saw what she knew would be her last glimpse of the angry sea she had come to love. Bartholomew's sea.

  Oh, Bartholomew, how can I bear never seeing you again?

  Suddenly something large and solid flew between them out of the darkness, slamming against Xenos's chest. Ariah was knocked to the side. She fell in a heap on the wet earth.

  Vicious snarls erupted around her. She looked up to see Apollo sink his teeth into the hand holding Xenos's gun. Frightened that the dog would be shot, Ariah shouted for him to back off. Apollo ignored her.

  Xenos danced backward to avoid the savage, slashing canine teeth. The low railing of the wooden guardrail the men had built in a half-circle around the light tower at the edge of the bluff caught him at the backs of his knees.

  Apollo let go of him and moved back.

  For an eternity, Xenos Polassis teetered there, bent backward and flailing his arms in a desperate attempt to right himself. Horrified, Ariah leaped up thinking to stop his fall, but there was no time. The wind howled around Xenos like a thousand avenging souls. It billowed the fabric of the man's coat as if it were the sail of a ship. A look of horror spread across his dark face as a fresh gust launched him dispassionately into hell.

  Dropping back down beside her unconscious husband, Ariah covered her ears while Xenos Polassis's scream
s of terror slowly faded away. Apollo nudged her shoulder, whimpering.

  "Oh, Apollo, what would I have done without you? Thank God Bartholomew couldn't find the man who lost you." She hugged him tightly, oblivious to his wet, muddy fur.

  Pritchard moaned. She released the dog and bent to examine her husband's wound. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder under the collarbone. His eyelids flickered and blinked open.

  "God, Ariah, it hurts."

  "I know. It's bleeding badly." She pulled up her skirt, tore a length of ruffle from her petticoat, and folded it into a thick pad. After placing it against the wound, she pressed his hand over the bandage. "Hold this tightly to slow the bleeding. I have to check Seamus."

  "He shot me. I can't believe he shot me."

  "I know, but you'll be all right. I'll take care of you."

  A corner of his mouth curled into a crooked grin. "I stood up to him, though, didn't I, Ariah? I stood up to him."

  "Yes, Pritchard, you were wonderful."

  He grimaced at a particularly fierce pain and closed his eyes. "Wonderful . . .stood up to him."

  Ariah moved to where Seamus lay in the wet grass. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found his pulse beating steadily, if shallowly, beneath the tough, weathered skin of his throat. The wound at his temple was shallow, but bleeding profusely. She ripped another piece of ruffle from her petticoat and bound it in place.

  "Ariah?"

  She turned to see Pritchard peering at her through the rain. "Is he okay?"

  "The injury doesn't seem bad, but he's still unconscious." She gazed at the steep stairs that were the only way to the upper level of the bluff. "I've got to get the two of you to the house somehow. It's so dark now and the storm is worsening. We must get the light going."

  "Wouldn't it be easier to take him into the tower? We can get him to the house later, after the storm lets up. Maybe he'll be able to walk home by himself by then."