The surrounding forest seemed to offer little respite from the fast-approaching gale. Except for the wind, an uncanny stillness settled around them causing them to hurry onward.
When they reached the pier her father helped her into the skiff and turned to shake hands with Dathan. “I’ll see you on my next trip out. You have a new list?”
Dathan reached into his pocket, grinning. “Right here.”
Mangus took the slip of paper from him, glancing at it briefly. Pocketing it, he nodded his head and then climbed aboard the skiff. “Well, that’s it then. God be with you, Dathan.”
“And you,” Dathan returned softly before untying the mooring line.
* * *
The skiff bobbed ever faster as it moved away from the dock. Dathan lifted a keg of flour onto his shoulder and turned to watch their progress. When he was sure they were well away from the surrounding rocks and sandbars, he made his way back to his cottage.
Adding the keg to the pantry in the kitchen, he strolled back to the dock to watch the little skiff move across the water. The wind blew his hair into a riot of confusion, but he didn’t object. He lifted his face to the sky, closing his eyes and relishing the power of the zephyr.
When he opened them again, he noticed the skiff floundering amidst the increasing winds. He could make out only one figure on the boat waving frantically in his direction.
Feeling a sudden chill pass over him, Dathan ran back to the house and grabbed his binoculars from a peg on the wall. Hurrying back, he focused them on the boat.
Adrella materialized as he focused the lens. Her terrified face appeared for a moment and then disappeared when she bent to the deck. Heart pounding in alarm, Dathan began running toward his small boat tied to the edge of the dock.
Unmooring it, he pushed out into the turbulent water. His muscles strained against the oars as he rowed closer to the skiff. It seemed for every move he made forward, the waves pushed him two in retreat. In the two years he had lived here he had never seen the gulf in such a temper.
Gritting his teeth with determination, he finally managed to get close enough to throw Adrella a line. She used the rope to pull him closer, tears raining down her cheeks.
When he was close enough, Dathan jumped aboard. “What’s happened?” he yelled above the rising wind.
“Da!”
She pointed to where her father lay clutching his chest, sprawled on the floor of the skiff. Moving quickly to his side, Dathan knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. It moved weakly against his fingers. Lifting the lid of one eye, he took note of the lack of response to the light. Dathan swallowed hard, his heart lodging somewhere close to his throat. The cold clammy skin and blue-veined hands were not reassuring.
He looked up at Adrella, his gray eyes dark with worry. “We have to get you back to the house.”
“But Da needs the doctor! We can’t go back!”
Looking around at the swelling waves, Dathan shook his head. “We’re not close enough to the mainland and the wind and waves are too fierce. We’ll never make it eight miles in this wind. The house is the best bet.”
Adrella bit her lip in indecision. Not waiting for an answer, Dathan moved to the oars and began to turn the skiff back toward the island.
* * *
Dropping to her knees, Adrella began to talk to her father. “Hang on, Da. Hang on!” she told him, pushing the soggy hair from his eyes. Her voice became desperate “Don’t you dare die on me!”
Terror clutching at her heart, Adrella began to petition the Lord on her father’s behalf. She pled fervently for his life, while with fierce concentration Dathan struggled against the turbulent waves.
“If you’ve a mind, you can grab that extra set of oars and give a hand,” he yelled.
Adrella knew from the tone of his voice that Dathan was not making a suggestion. Reluctant to leave her father’s side, but knowing the feasibility of making it to shore more swiftly with two rowers, Adrella grabbed the other set of oars and added her own power to that of the man fighting against the ferocity of the increasing wind.
It seemed to take forever for them to reach the shore. Dathan quickly jumped from the boat, tying it to the small dock with the mooring line.
Setting Adrella to the side, he gently lifted Mangus into his arms. Even at such a time as this, Adrella couldn’t help but be impressed with the power of the man. His muscles bulged against the older man’s weight, yet he lifted him with ease.
Dathan didn’t wait to see if Adrella followed. Piqued, she lifted her skirts and hurried after him.
Chapter 2
Adrella was scarcely aware of time passing. Dathan came and went, but her attention was riveted on her father lying on Dathan’s bed. Mangus hadn’t yet awakened from his attack, and Adrella felt dread turn her stomach into a tight knot. If anything should happen to her father...well, the idea didn’t bear thinking about.
She set the rocking chair she was in to rocking, the back-and-forth rhythm somewhat soothing. She looked around her noting the Spartan furnishings of the bedroom. The one spot of color in the room was the beautiful quilt now covering her father’s still form. There had to be a story behind that quilt, she was sure of it. It seemed so out of place here among the rustic furniture.
Two small daguerreotypes were sitting on the dresser. One was of a man who looked very much like Dathan. He was in a Union uniform, his unsmiling face a decided contradiction to the eyes so full of life that they could almost see right through you. The other picture was of a man and woman dressed more elegantly than anything she had ever seen. She stared at the pictures blankly. At any other time her curiosity would have made her question Dathan on the people, but now she couldn’t bring herself to be interested enough to care.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to her father. The whiteness of his face filled her with dread. He seemed to have aged in just hours. She reached across and pushed his graying hair back from his forehead. If prayers could save someone’s life, then her father would open his eyes and smile at her soon because she had been storming heaven since her father had first crumpled to the floor of the skiff in a seemingly lifeless heap.
Dathan quietly entered the room. He gave Adrella one cursory glance before giving Mangus his full attention. Adrella was surprised when Dathan put an instrument against her father’s chest, and held the other end to his ear.
“What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.
Dathan’s eyes never left her father. “I’m checking his heart.”
Adrella’s look went from Dathan to her father, and then back again. She recognized the instrument that Dr. Taylor sometimes used to check a person’s heart. Why would Dathan think he needed to check her father’s heart?
“Is it... Will he...?” she stopped, unable to continue.
Heaving a great sigh, Dathan turned sympathetic eyes her way. Their cloudy gray reminded her of the ever encroaching storm outside.
“Adrella, your father’s condition is not good.”
Panic robbed her of speech momentarily. How could Dathan possibly know such a thing? Her anger grew to unreasonable bounds as the fear of losing her father almost consumed her.
“I told you we needed to see the doctor! Dr. Taylor could have helped.”
Dathan shook his head, folding his stethoscope and placing it on the table beside the bed. “No. The good doctor couldn’t have done anything. There’s nothing that can be done,” he told her, his voice thick with frustration.
It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did Adrella quickly rose to her feet.
“He’s dying?” she choked.
“Yes. He is.” Although his words were clipped and cold, there was pity and anguish in his expression.
Her green eyes grew large, moving restlessly from her father to Dathan. It was to
o much to comprehend. She felt as though she were drifting on a surging tide. Her tiny voice lacked conviction.
“He can’t die.”
“Adrella...”
“No!” Backing away from Dathan, she dropped to her father’s side. “No, I don’t believe you! You’re no doctor. What do you know? We need to get him to the mainland. To Doc Taylor.”
Going to the window, Dathan jerked back the dark drapes. It looked like dusk outside, and while they watched, the first spattering of raindrops hit the glass.
“We would never make it. The sea is too rough, and the winds have grown fierce.”
A lone tear slid down Adrella’s white cheek. “We should have gone earlier,” she accused.
“Adrella...” Dathan pressed his lips together. “I am a doctor.”
Adrella’s lips parted in surprise. Several seconds ticked by before she could speak.
“You? A doctor?”
“Yes. Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing that could have been done.”
Adrella was totally confused. Why would a doctor be out here on an isolated island pretending to be a lighthouse keeper? Her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Dathan’s expression once again became closed.
“I have duties to perform. I’ll check in with you later. There’s nothing that can be done for him right now except to make him as comfortable as can be.” He hesitated. “If you need me, just call.”
When he turned to leave the room, Adrella quickly rose to her feet and clutched his arm. Her pain-filled eyes meshed with his.
“How long?”
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer her, but then he took a deep breath and looked her squarely in the face.
“I don’t know. It could be hours. It could be days.”
Adrella’s heart sank. Hours? She might have only a few precious hours with her father?
“I’m sorry,” Dathan told her, and she had never heard his voice so soft. It wrapped around her, warm and comforting, helping to ease the chill of her despondency. Nodding her head, she brushed the tears from her cheeks and turned back to the bed.
* * *
Dathan hesitated in the doorway, but there was really nothing more he could say or do. Besides, he had his duties to perform. If this storm was as bad as he feared, any ship on the water, if it survived the savage sea, would need his guiding light.
Noticing the tears running in a silent stream down Adrella’s cheeks, he felt a tight knot form in his stomach. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she struggled to hold back the tide of her grief. Gritting his teeth, he left her alone with her sorrow.
Leaving the cottage, he stopped to take inventory of the surrounding gulf. Already the water had risen higher against the shore. Lifting his face to the sky, he prayed for protection for them all, and although he really doubted it would do any good, he prayed for Mangus as well.
His heart ached for the loss of his friend. Mangus had broken through the tough shell Dathan had erected around himself and offered his friendship. Now it was hard to remember a time when the older man hadn’t been a part of his life, his godly attitude shaming Dathan into an awareness of his own shortcomings.
Many an afternoon after delivering supplies, he would play chess with Dathan and share stories. The older man had seen more than his share of heartache having lost a wife and son in childbirth, yet he never seemed to lose his zest for life.
Dathan smiled slightly, battling through the fierce wind. Mangus would have loved this storm. Stopping momentarily, Dathan shook his head to clear it of such futile thinking. Mangus wasn’t gone from this earth yet, and there was always the possibility that God would take pity and intervene. And yet all common sense told him there was no hope. Adrella would be devastated if her father died.
When he reached the lighthouse, Dathan had to heave against the wind to open the door leading into the interior. He finally managed to get the door closed, the sudden darkness engulfing him, the storm sounding much farther away. Taking the lamp from inside the doorway, Dathan lit it and climbed the dark circular stairway to the top of the light. When he reached the top, he took a moment to look about him. As always, the sight filled him with awe and a greater appreciation for the One who had created the surrounding landscape.
Through the glass windows housing the light, he could see outside, the sea tumbling about with rising fury. The churning waters seemed to grow angrier as he watched.
With the darkness of the storm overshadowing the sunlight, he knew he would have to light the lamps early. Although this light had only a third-order Fresnel lens, it would still penetrate far out into the murky gulf. In good conditions the light would shine over fifteen miles, but then these weren’t exactly good conditions. He hoped the dark angle that had been created by damage to the lens during the War Between the States wouldn’t be a problem.
As was required by the Lighthouse Board, he had already prepared the lamps early this morning. All that remained to do was to light them. That done, Dathan stared into the glowing lamp, his thoughts with a brokenhearted girl watching her father slowly die. Slamming his palms against the iron railing, he gritted his teeth, furious over his inability to do more for his friend. If only he had gotten to him sooner. If only he hadn’t taken the time to go back for his binoculars. If... If... If... There was no use thinking about what was in the past; he had more pressing problems taking place in the present.
Maybe someday in the future there would be ways to deal with such cases, but as for now, all he could do was watch as his friend slipped slowly away.
It was hard to breathe past the lump that had formed in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly to deny the tears threatening release. Taking a deep breath, he quickly finished his business and headed back down the stairs.
Pausing at the bottom with his hand on the door latch, he wondered what he would find when he went back to the house. When he stepped outside, the wind hit him with such force he had to struggle to remain upright and in place. Impelling himself forward, he fought his way through the furious winds.
The sea was already inching its way up the sands of the shore. He decided that it would be best to move some of the barrels of lard oil up to the lighthouse just in case the storm was as destructive as he thought it might be. They would be safe in the brick shelter, but he wasn’t too certain about the oil house.
After he had struggled to move three drums, he decided he would just have to hope and pray about the rest. There was no more room and he needed to get back to the house.
Entering the kitchen, he removed his wet coat and boots, placing them beside the kitchen door. He padded his way back to the bedroom in his damp socks and found Adrella exactly as he had left her.
“There’s no change,” she told him dully, frowning at the water dripping from Dathan’s hair and face.
That wasn’t exactly true, but he decided not to say anything. Already he could hear that the timbre of Mangus’s breathing had altered. The slight rattle in his chest warned Dathan that the time was near.
Mangus suddenly opened his eyes. Adrella got up from the floor where she had been kneeling and settled next to him on the bed.
“Da! Oh, thank God.”
It took a moment for Mangus to be able to speak. His dull green eyes met Dathan’s, and Dathan realized that the older man knew he hadn’t much time left.
“Adrella,” he wheezed. “I need to speak to Dathan...alone.”
Adrella turned surprised eyes Dathan’s way. “But, Da...”
Mangus struggled to reach her hand lying next to his on the bed. He squeezed her fingers slightly.
“Please, Drell.”
Reluctantly she got up from the bed. Dathan easily read the emotions flashing through her eyes before she turned away.
“I�
�ll be in the kitchen preparing us some tea,” she told them, the hurt evident in her voice.
Dathan watched her leave, shutting the door behind her. He turned to Mangus.
“What is it, old friend?” he asked, sitting next to Mangus in the spot Adrella had recently vacated. He took the older man’s hand.
Mangus gave a slight squeeze, rough fingers meeting rough fingers. “Dathan,” he started, flinching when a sharp pain sliced through his chest. Taking a deep breath, he went on. “I want you to look after Adrella for me.”
At Dathan’s startled look, Mangus’s halting voice continued. “She has...no one else, and...nowhere else to go. I can’t die...in peace...until I know she’s been taken care of.”
Dathan shoved a hand back through his hair. “What exactly are you saying, Mangus?”
“I want you...to marry...Adrella.”
Dathan sighed. That’s just what he thought the older man was suggesting. He couldn’t fault him for wanting what was best for his child, but only at such a time could he ever conceive of Mangus asking such a thing.
“Mangus, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
Mangus gave an imperceptible nod. “Aye, I do. I...trust you, Dathan. Regardless of the man you claim to be...I can see into your heart. You’re a good man who loves the Lord.”
Rubbing his temple with an agitated hand, Dathan shook his head. How was he going to dissuade his friend from such a thought and yet give him the peace he was seeking?
“You don’t know me at all, Mangus. Besides, I have no desire to marry.”
A slight smile curled the older man’s lips. “You may not realize it, but you need each other. You’ll be...good for one another.”
Dathan’s voice lifted slightly. “Look, you old matchmaker you, even if I agreed, I’m fairly certain Adrella wouldn’t.”
“She will if you tell her...it was her da’s last wish,” he husked, his voice growing softer.
Dathan knew Mangus had only moments left to live. He couldn’t allow him to go with worry on his heart. He loved the man too much. He and Adrella would just have to sort this out later.
There's Always Tomorrow Page 2