Lighthouse Brides Collection

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Lighthouse Brides Collection Page 23

by Andrea Boeshaar


  Helpless to do anything, she sat with her hands folded on her lap. Once again she missed having a husband at her side—someone who was there to help make difficult decisions and to watch over them.

  Dear Lord, I know You love us as much and more than any husband or father possibly could. Please help us safely find our way through this dark night. Keep us safe and calm.

  Another wave of dizziness rolled through her and interrupted her prayer. She didn’t dare settle on the boat’s bench, fearful she’d topple them into the dark, churning water.

  “What’s next, Mama?”

  “We wait. And we pray.” The darkness pressed in again, and Regan felt the sticky wetness of blood at the back of her head. She fought to control her consciousness. What would Keera do if Regan passed out? What if she panicked? “God will show His plan to us as soon as He’s ready, but for now we need to remain calm.”

  “Even when we’re alone in the dark?”

  “When we’re alone in the dark is His favorite time to work His plans, Keera. He has our full attention right now, doesn’t He?”

  “I suppose He does.” Relief laced Keera’s words.

  “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a bit. I promise I’ll wake you if I see anything exciting.”

  Keera yawned. “Yes, Mama.”

  “I might even catch a bit of shut-eye myself since nothin’ is going on.” Regan hoped her daughter bought in to her story, but didn’t have time to check as she crumpled onto the bottom of the boat.

  “What on earth?” Ian stared hard at the water from the upper window of the lighthouse and rubbed his eyes. Sure enough, the water teemed with bobbing brown barrels.

  Johnny’s voice carried from far below and echoed up the stairs. “Papa! Papa! Come quick! Your rowboat is here, and so are the supplies you prayed for! Hurry, Pa! Hurry! You have to see!”

  Ian hurried down the lighthouse stairs as fast as he safely could. It wasn’t as much what his son had said as the fact that he’d said so much! His foot treads echoed on the metal and then wooden steps as he made his way round and round the interior walls of the beacon. His prayer had been answered? He hadn’t heard so much life in Johnny’s voice since before Johnny’s mother had died.

  Ian burst through the outer door. “Where are you, son?”

  “We’re over here by the cove,” Granny answered. “He’s right, Ian. God has answered your prayers in a mighty way.”

  “I reckon He did.” Ian skidded to a stop at her side. A weather-beaten lifeboat bobbed in the middle of the cove. He grinned. “A boat, too, huh? Johnny—we have ourselves a boat!”

  “Go get it, Pa, before it drifts back out to sea.”

  Johnny was right—the boat was slowly but surely drifting back out with the tide.

  Ian waded into the warm water. The boat moved farther away.

  “It’s getting away, Pa!”

  “I see, son. Calm down, and let me get out there.”

  “He’ll get it,” Granny reassured. “You just wait and see.”

  Ian stretched his arm out and his fingertips brushed the wooden side. He leaned forward to peer inside. “It’s full of tarps, but they’re heavy.”

  “Why is there so much stuff in the water, Pa? Where did it all come from?”

  “A ship must have been grounded during the storm this morning.”

  “What storm?”

  Granny exchanged a raised eyebrow with Ian.

  Ian didn’t even try to contain his laugh. “You slept through a big storm, son.” He solidified his grip and tugged the boat toward shore.

  Johnny surveyed the horizon. “Where’s the ship now?”

  “Once they lighten the load, they move on. The weight of all the provisions weighs them down, and they get stuck in the shallower waters. They threw this stuff overboard so they could go on their way.”

  “So I guess they got stuck because of your prayer, huh, Pa?”

  Ian cringed. “I certainly hope not.”

  “But you got a boat and supplies just like you wanted.”

  “Not necessarily. We don’t know what the barrels hold.”

  “But we’ll know soon, right? We get to open them?”

  Ian didn’t answer. He stood thigh-deep in the water a few yards offshore and reached for the rumpled tarp. He gathered it up, while trying to keep it out of the water, and turned to toss it on shore.

  A shrill scream rent the air around them. Ian whipped around as fast as he could in the thigh-deep water and assumed a defensive position, his arms stretched out before him. Perplexed, he stared at the tiny, wildhaired imp that had risen to her knees and had quieted momentarily as she sucked in air for her next scream. Her little chest rose and fell with terror, but the subsequent scream never came.

  The hot sun on her face had her squinting against its glare, but even so the brilliant hue of her blue eyes stood out as she matched Ian’s gaze with curious intensity. As she considered him, her breaths evened out and his presence seemed to have a calming effect on her.

  She glanced over at Granny and Johnny, and back at Ian again. Her eyes went from his outstretched arms to his position in the water and a slight smile shaped her lips. Suddenly, her face transformed into a fullblown smile and the most contagious giggle bubbled out of her.

  Johnny’s line of questioning had ended with the scream, but when Ian turned to glance over his shoulder at his son, he saw interest chase away the fear. Johnny’s lip turned up when he saw the amusement in his father’s eye, and soon his giggles joined the little girl’s. Granny motioned for Ian to bring the child to her, but though her lips also tipped with delight at the child’s musical laughter, her eyes were full of questions and concern.

  Ian waded over to the boat, which had drifted a few feet away, and reached his arms for the child. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. Let me carry you to shore. My granny over there will take care of you, and she’ll find you something to eat. How’s that sound?”

  The child didn’t reach for him but she didn’t cower away, either. Instead, she stared at the bottom of the boat. “Mama won’t talk to me, but iff ’n she did, she wouldna want me to be goin’ with strangers.”

  She had a delightful accent.

  Her words registered, and with a sinking heart Ian leaned over to glance into the vessel. A petite woman lay motionless on the bottom of the boat. He couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive, but he did know her daughter was watching his every move. Granny’s voice cut through his indecision.

  “Hurry, Ian, let’s get them on dry land.”

  Ian glanced over at her. Granny’s eyes continued to ask questions Ian couldn’t answer. From his vantage point, he couldn’t tell if the woman had survived whatever ordeal they’d gone through.

  Ian already had the boat in hand and was dragging it closer to shore. He pulled it up as far as he could and swung the little girl onto the sand. Her dress was damp and her hair hung in tangled knots. “Tend to her, Granny, and I’ll follow behind with her mother.”

  “I’m not leavin’ my mama.” Her statement wasn’t said with rebellion, but rather stated as a fact.

  “Papa, why’s she talking like that? Her words sound funny.”

  Granny shushed Johnny with a squeeze to his shoulder.

  “I’m guessing she’s traveled over from Europe, is that right, honey?” He squatted down to the small girl’s level. “Were you on a big boat before getting into this one?”

  “Aye. We were on a great ship. I’m from Ireland, which makes me Irish. It’s what gives me my fiery hair and temper. At least that’s what Mama says.” She turned to look at her mother, but the woman hadn’t moved since they’d found her.

  “Well, your mother will be worried if she wakes up and sees you standing here in a wet dress with your hair all awry. Why don’t you go with my son, Johnny, and with Granny, and let her fix you up while I bring your mama to the house. See?” He motioned to the building nestled against the base of the lighthouse. “They’ll take you right over there, a
nd I’ll bring your mama to join you as soon as I get her out of the boat.”

  “Come, love, your mama’s in good hands. Let Ian take care of her while I find you some dry clothes.” Granny reached out a hand. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  “Keera.” She took the offered hand and left Ian to his work.

  Johnny lingered behind.

  Keera looked at him from over her shoulder. “Isn’t the laddie comin’ with us?”

  “He’ll be along momentarily. Johnny, catch up as soon as you’re finished talking to your father.”

  “Did you pray this into happening, too, Pa?”

  Keera stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Ian with wide eyes.

  Ian sighed. “No, son. My prayers had nothing to do with this woman and child being lost at sea.” At least he hoped that was true.

  Granny snagged Johnny’s hand and led him off with Keera, while Ian turned back to tend to the woman in the boat. Her chest moved. She breathed with the slightest motion, but at least she was alive. He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

  “Ma’am?”

  No response. He wished Granny had stayed close.

  He reached in to touch her shoulder. “Ma’am, can you hear me? You’ve washed ashore during a storm. Your daughter is in good hands with my granny, but they want me to bring you to them.”

  She didn’t move a muscle. Her light, steady breaths continued without change.

  He squatted next to the boat, taking note of the water that had sloshed in to fill the bottom, the soaked tarps that had been pushed to the rear of the vessel to make a bed for Keera, and the ropes that must have held them in place during the storm. He had no idea how Keera had worked her way loose, but he was glad she hadn’t fallen overboard before reaching shallow waters.

  The woman’s face was porcelain white—whether from inheritance or illness he didn’t know—but it wouldn’t be fair for long if he continued to linger in the hot summer sun. Her beautiful features were delicate like her daughter’s.

  He’d prayed for supplies and a boat. He’d received the items—and a woman and child to boot. He couldn’t help but recall his grandmother’s mention of wanting a wife for him.

  He ignored the crazy thought and focused his attention on figuring out a plan. He considered his options on moving her. If she’d been injured, the last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain or further the damage.

  He snagged the tarp that he’d tossed to shore—it appeared to be the driest—and placed it on the sand next to the lifeboat. Gingerly, he lifted their guest from the hard wood of the vessel and gently placed her on the softer, sand-cradled tarp.

  A soft moan drifted from her lips. So she was injured. His hand felt sticky with blood. He identified the source of the wound—a gash on the back of her head—by looking at the watery bloodstain on the boat’s floor. He gently rolled her to her side and examined the small gash. The blood had dried for the most part, but the water that she’d rested in at the bottom of the boat had kept it from drying completely.

  He needed to get her to Granny.

  “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to lift you and take you to our house. We need to get you out of the hot sun, and my granny can care for you there. Your daughter is waiting there, too, while playing with my son.”

  When she gave no sign of hearing him, he lifted her into his arms.

  Chapter 3

  Soft noises invaded Regan’s consciousness but none were familiar. She struggled to open her eyes, needing to survey her surroundings, but her eyelids refused to cooperate.

  Where am I?

  After a few moments of wasted time trying to figure out her surroundings by sound, she remembered the storm at sea and the lifeboat dropping down from the ship and falling into the out-of-control waves far below. The memories crashed back as harshly as the angry waters had slammed against her lifeboat. Keera.

  “Keera!” Regan pushed up onto her elbows. “Keera?”

  She forced her eyes open, but the light coming in from a nearby window flooded her vision, making her squint. Her head pounded from the effort. She tried to get her bearings, but the settee she rested on was just as unfamiliar as the sounds.

  She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, crying out when a sharp pain sliced through her temple. She pushed through the pain. “Keera! Where are you?”

  Nausea, summoned by her swirling head, caused her stomach to churn. She gulped, trying to hold back the bile that rose in the back of her throat, and fought to keep her panic at bay.

  If something had happened to her daughter, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  How did I end up in this strange place?

  Footfalls sounded against a hardwood floor and a shadowy figure approached as a gentle hand stayed her shoulder. “Whoa there, you shouldn’t be trying to get up.”

  Regan didn’t have the energy to fight.

  “Keera’s fine. Rest a moment, and I’ll fill you in.”

  The gentle authority of the male voice soothed her.

  The man fluffed her pillows, and she leaned back against them.

  “My daughter—Keera—she’s…”

  “She’s fine.”

  The man had a kind voice, but between the sunlight coming in from a nearby window and the throbbing pain that pulsed against the back of her eyes, she couldn’t see him. She raised a hand against her forehead in an effort to shield the glare.

  It helped a bit. The handsome man smiled, his dark eyes warm and friendly. Long dark hair curled slightly where it dusted his collar.

  “You and your daughter washed ashore this morning in a small lifeboat. Do you remember how you got there?”

  “I do. There was a storm and our ship ran aground on a sandbar. Keera and I were in a lifeboat and with all the chaos, someone accidentally released it. Please. Where is my daughter? I really need to see her.”

  “Keera’s right outside, playing with my son, under my granny’s watchful eye. She’s perfectly safe.”

  “Can you call her in please?” She closed her eyes. The pain in her head intensified from the strain.

  Regan heard the floor creak and the door opened, letting in more rays of sunshine. “Granny, she’s awake and asking for Keera.”

  Keera’s squeal was music to Regan’s ears. The little girl ran through the doorway and threw herself on top of Regan’s chest. “I missed you, Mama. You wouldn’t talk to me in the boat.”

  “I would have talked to you if I’d been awake, wee one. I hit my head on the bottom of the boat when we were released from the ship and it made me sleep.”

  Regan’s eyes finally adjusted to the bright light. She hugged her daughter tight as she took in her surroundings. She appeared to be in the main living area of a house. A fire burned in the hearth across the room, and a table with four chairs nestled in front of it. The man she’d been talking with stood to the side of the fireplace with his hand on the shoulder of a young boy who waited beside him. The man reached up to muss the boy’s hair with affection.

  His son.

  She could see the resemblance.

  An older woman made her way through the door. Her mouth formed into a radiant smile as soon as her alert brown eyes—eyes that were very similar to the man’s—met Regan’s. “How wonderful to see that you’re awake, dear. You gave us quite a scare.”

  “Aye. I guess I did. I’m sorry for that.”

  “No worries. Keera’s had a great time playing with Ian’s boy, Johnny. Ian showed her around the lighthouse grounds, but he said she had to wait for you to give your approval before she could go up to see the light.”

  “Lighthouse?” Regan had trouble keeping up.

  The man stepped forward. He really did look to be as kind as he sounded. “I’m the lightkeeper, Ian Morgan. Keera made it clear she wanted to climb to the top, but we told her she had to wait for your approval. She wasn’t very happy with us.”

  Regan laughed. “I can imagine. Patience is
n’t her best virtue. And I’m Regan. Regan Stewart.”

  “Regan Stewart, I’m glad to meet you.” The man’s twinkling eyes put her at ease. “Spunk isn’t a bad trait to have. It’ll carry Keera far. She sure adjusted well to all that the day has brought her.”

  Regan smiled down at her daughter still nestled against her and wound her finger through one of Keera’s curls. “Aye, she adapts well. She’s had to. She’s been through a lot.”

  “And so have you.” The older woman pushed forward and surveyed Regan. “Keera, why don’t you go help Johnny set the table for dinner while I check on your mother.”

  Ian moved away. “I’ll go tend to the light.”

  Keera pushed off Regan’s stomach and jumped to her feet. “Can we go? You said we could ask when she’s awake! She’s awake now!”

  Ian’s eyes twinkled. “You’re a persistent one. I did say that, but Granny has asked you and Johnny to set the table. Why don’t you help with that, and we’ll go up in the lighthouse tomorrow. That way, if your mama feels up to it, she can go with us.”

  Keera’s shoulders sagged and she sighed. “Aye. I’ll help set the table.”

  She dragged her feet with exaggerated drama as she slowly walked to the table.

  Regan rolled her eyes, and Ian grinned. He made his escape and pulled the door shut behind him.

  The older woman pulled a chair beside the couch and sat down. “My given name is Matilda, but you can call me Granny. If you don’t like Granny, call me Tildy. But I likely won’t answer. I’ve been Granny for such a long time I’ve mostly forgotten to answer to anything else.” She glanced over at the kids. “Keera has made herself at home. We hope you’ll do the same. I have to say, you’ve raised a delightful child.”

  “Thank you. She’s spirited, as I’m sure you’ve discovered.”

  “She does keep a person hopping. And what about you? Appears to me mama has as much fortitude as daughter.”

  “Thank you. I’d like to think so.” Regan laughed, then moaned as the throbbing in her head increased. She cupped her hands around her temples. “Ouch.” She waited a moment for the pain to pass. “I like to keep a positive attitude as much as possible.” She raised her voice a notch. “Nothin’ much comes of sulkin’.”

 

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