She wanted so much to talk with him, but he always closed up like a clam whenever she tried. Often she would look over at him to speak and find him staring off into the distance, his face dark and unreadable. She hadn’t the courage to face him at such junctures.
Several times in the middle of the night, she would awaken to hear him thrashing about in his shelter while he slept. She could hear him mumbling in his sleep, but from the distance of her own shelter, she could not make out any words.
When he returned after a while, Adrella kept her eyes closed, listening as he dropped to the sand beside her.
Lifting her foot from the bucket, he allowed it to dry before opening the keg of flour and dusting the affected area. He used his pocket knife to gently scrape away any nematocysts that still remained.
Rinsing off the remaining powder, Dathan then dumped the wine on the sand and poured the other half of the bottle into the bucket.
“We’ll soak it one more time,” he told her roughly, causing her lids to fly open in surprise at his surly tone. She searched his face, but found no emotion lurking there.
He left her again and didn’t return for some time. When he did, he finished his ministrations abruptly, and then prepared their fire for the night. He disappeared once more into the tower, and before long Adrella could see the light begin its nightly vigil.
Chapter 6
Dathan lay on his back staring up at the shimmering stars above him. Feeling the need for the fresh sea air, he had chosen to forego the palm shelter where he normally slept. Hands folded behind his head, he ignored the whining insects hovering around him and contemplated the events of the afternoon. Pictures of a frightened Adrella floundering in the water started his heart beating rapidly. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the wild terror on her face. Shifting to his side, he tried to push away the feelings that held him in their grip.
This had been a day of up and down emotions for him. He felt exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t let him sleep. Treating Adrella had caused painful, and conversely happy, memories to surface; memories that he had kept firmly buried deep in his mind. As though a dam had suddenly burst, images floated through his thoughts in rapid succession; a young child smiling through her tears at him after he set her broken arm, a woman cuddling her newborn infant after he had tried a risky procedure to save both of their lives, and more recently, the soldiers on the battlefield as he helplessly watched them die.
Groaning, he sat up and plunged his hands through his hair, burying his eyes beneath his palms. “No, Lord,” he pleaded softly. “I don’t want to remember. Please!”
He didn’t want to feel again the need to help people. He didn’t want to have to face the world again where there was a constant daily battle against evil. He liked his little world of isolation.
At least he had up until a couple of weeks ago. He had to admit, it was nice having someone around to talk to, and Adrella had proven to be a good companion. Comfortable. And yet, not so comfortable.
There were times when they were stranded together in the lighthouse that he had been uncomfortably drawn to her. He hadn’t meant it to be, but then he hadn’t intended for any of this to happen.
Perhaps the isolation was getting to him. He had heard tales of men who went insane when they were isolated from any contact with people.
Frowning, he wondered if that was why he was now having these feelings of loneliness. Why did he suddenly want to be close to Adrella, to allow her access into his steadily thawing heart? The seesaw effect of his emotions was beginning to drive him crazy.
A sudden sharp cry from Adrella’s shelter brought him quickly to his feet. He was thankful there was moonlight to help him see. He pulled back the palm fronds that were used to protect her from biting insects, and saw Adrella thrashing around on the sand, her hands massaging her left leg. He ducked inside.
“What is it?” he demanded roughly, kneeling beside her and pushing her hands aside.
“My leg. Ow!”
Wrapping one large hand around her calf, he could feel the tightening muscle beneath his fingers. “Muscle spasms,” he told her grimly. “They happen sometimes from the jellyfish venom. Hold on. Let me see what I can do.”
Taking her leg between his two calloused palms, he began to vigorously massage the muscles. Adrella lay back, teeth clenching at the excruciating pain.
Over and over Dathan moved his hands up and down her leg until eventually the pain began to subside as the muscles relaxed. Adrella’s fingers slowly unclenched as the pain began to lessen.
“Thank you,” she breathed out finally, her body slowly relaxing. “It feels somewhat better now.”
Dathan sat back on his haunches and studied her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, refusing to meet his suddenly attentive gaze. She flexed her leg slightly, and he was satisfied that the spasms had ceased.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give you for the pain, but my medical supplies were in the keeper’s cottage.”
“That’s okay.” She sat up, placing a hand on his arm. Her eyes were dark and luminous, even in the dim light of the moon. “I’ve appreciated all that you’ve done, Dathan.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. How to react. Warmth traveled up his arm and wrapped itself around his mind. The awareness between them was there again, growing.
The silence grew lengthier until Dathan nervously cleared his throat. He knew he should leave, but he was suddenly reluctant to do so. He could barely see her features in the moonlight shining in through the opening, but it was enough to make him pause at what he could read in her eyes. The tension heightened between them with each passing second.
His look fastened on her lips so close to his own. He bent toward her slowly, giving her time enough to move back if she so chose. When she didn’t retreat, he closed the distance, his lips moving across hers in a kiss that left him breathless.
Dathan drew back first, setting Adrella away from him. He could feel the pulse throbbing wildly in his throat. The firelight reflected in Adrella’s darkened eyes, and he knew that she had been as affected as he.
Rubbing a hand behind his neck, he couldn’t look her in the eye. What on earth had possessed him to do such a thing.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered thickly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
His apology was met with silence, and looking back at her, he found her turned away from him. Was that a tear he saw rolling down her cheek? He suddenly felt lower than a mocassin’s belly.
“Good night, Adrella,” he told her, his husky voice telling him more than anything that it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
Adrella nodded, refusing to speak. Lying back on the sand, she watched him as he lifted the palm fronds back into place and left the shelter.
* * *
The next morning Dathan was already absent when Adrella finally surfaced from her shelter. Pushing back the palm fronds, she blinked at the bright sunlight streaming into her eyes.
Since her stomach was queasy already, she decided to forego eating anything for breakfast. The smoked fish Dathan had left for her caused her stomach to churn even more, and she quickly turned her eyes elsewhere.
Limping across the sand, she sat down in the shade of the towering lighthouse. She leaned back against the cool white surface, letting her eyes wander across the landscape. Already the sun was shining hotly, the beautiful gray-blue gulf rippling for as far as the eye could see. Gulls wheeled and circled overhead, their screeching the only sound in the lonely world of their island habitat.
She tried to rein in her riotous thoughts, but they refused to be held in check. Dathan’s kiss last night had left her shaken and confused. Her mind refused to focus on anything else. What were his feelings for her? Was he attracted to her because she was the only woman in the vicinity? Although she
had heard enough stories about men and their appetites to wonder what might happen if something wasn’t done soon, if the truth were told, she was actually more concerned about her own feelings. She had been hurt by his apology over the kiss, and she didn’t quite understand why. Not knowing what else to do, she beseechingly lifted her eyes heavenward. “I don’t even know what to say, Lord,” she complained softly.
How long she sat there she didn’t know, but she suddenly caught sight of Dathan coming quickly from the woods, a man trailing in his wake. Eyes going wide, she swiftly came to her feet, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg.
They came to a stop in front of her, and Dathan motioned to the man.
“Adrella, this is Mr. Carson, the lighthouse inspector. Thank the good Lord, he was sent to check on the lights in the vicinity. Mr. Carson, Miss Adrella Murphy.”
Adrella stood gaping at him. “How...when...?”
Mr. Carson chuckled lightly. “It’s a good thing Dathan knows Morse code. His message was finally seen by someone on the mainland. Normally I wouldn’t be coming for another two weeks to bring Dathan his oil, but with the storm, the Lighthouse Board thought it best to see how the lights fared after the hurricane. When I arrived in Apalach, I was told that something was wrong with the light. I came as quickly as I could.”
“And it’s a good thing he did,” Dathan remarked, his eyes refusing to meet Adrella’s. “We were almost out of oil.”
Oil? He was worried about oil? After last night oil was the last thing on Adrella’s mind.
The tension emanating from Dathan was palpable, causing Mr. Carson to frown, his look passing from one to the other. Adrella laid a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to her. “And Apalach? How did it fare?”
He closed his hand over hers, squeezing reassuringly. Something flashed briefly through his eyes. “Miss Murphy, there will be time enough for explanations later. Right now let us see about getting you off this island and back to civilization.”
Adrella’s look swung to Dathan, but she could read nothing in his hooded eyes. Feeling as though she were in some sort of dream, she allowed Dathan to lift her in his arms and carry her back through the woods to the dock on the other side of the island. Only once did he look into her face, and she could tell nothing from his visage. His face reminded her of a stone statue she had once seen in a park in New York City.
A boat was waiting at the dock with several men manning the oars. Surprise flashed across their faces when they noticed Dathan carrying Adrella from the woods. Mr. Carson gave quick, staccato orders, and the men made ready to cast off, the curious looks they surreptitiously threw Adrella’s way making her very uncomfortable.
Dathan carefully set Adrella in the boat, his eyes meeting hers as his arms slid slowly away. “I’ll be coming across later. I’ll talk to you then.”
“But...”
He shook his head. “No, I can’t come now. Mr. Carson and I have to inspect the light, and I have to move those oil drums up to the tower.”
For the first time Adrella noticed the barrels sitting next to the hastily repaired dock. She could do nothing but watch as the boat moved farther away from the island. Watching Dathan become nothing more than a speck in the distance, Adrella suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of loss.
As the distance increased, a feeling of numbness began creeping into her mind. The feeling stayed with her even when they landed at the dock at Apalach and Adrella was met with the knowledge of the hurricane’s devastating effects.
The normally busy harbor was eerily quiet. Instead of tall-masted ships crowding the docks, all that remained were pieces of mastheads peering from the bottom of the gulf. Shattered planks from boats torn apart by the strong winds floated everywhere in the water.
Very little of the town remained. In her own isolated island world, she had almost forgotten for a time that there was a hurricane. Here the knowledge was obvious. The town had flooded inland from the Apalachicola River and the strong storm surge. Mud covered the once pristine streets and much of the land.
One of the men helped her onto the dock, and Adrella saw that the planking under her feet was brand new. Obviously the old dock hadn’t fared well in the storm, either.
She limpingly made her way down the street, watching the people of Apalach picking up after the remnants of the storm. The whole town seemed to be milling around, trying to put things back to rights. They stared at her in surprise, but other than a quick nod or hello, they paid her little attention, each intent on picking up the pieces of their own life.
The devastation was massive. Everywhere she looked houses and businesses had been leveled. After two weeks much of the cleanup had been accomplished in the streets, but there was obviously much left to do.
She passed people who still looked dazed, like the life had suddenly left them. Others were picking through the rubble of their homes trying to salvage what they could.
A sudden sense of dread made Adrella move faster, anxious to see how her own home had fared.
When she reached the street where her father’s store stood, she stopped suddenly, her heart in her mouth. The building was damaged beyond repair. The inventory had been scattered around the area, and what hadn’t been drenched by rain and muddy floodwaters had been picked through by the people of the town.
She slowly made her way through the rubble, the pain at the loss of her father intensifying. What was she to do now? She had nothing!
For a time she did as others were doing and picked through the debris trying to find things she could possibly salvage. Something would have to be done about clothing because she wasn’t about to stay in this dress another day.
She picked up a sodden quilt and shook it out. She recognized the pattern as the one that had been on her Da’s bed, the last quilt her mother had made before she had died. It, too, was filthy with mud. Was it possible to clean it? She had to at least try. Rolling it into a ball, she set it aside.
Leaving the store portion, she moved into the area that had been her home. It took her some time to remove shattered wood from the ceilings and walls that had buried so much of their belongings. She worked tenaciously, a growing pile of debris accumulating at the side of what had once been their store.
In amongst all the rubble she was able to find little things that had at one time been taken for granted and now seemed like the most priceless of treasures.
Da’s favorite cup was in the mud next to an old chair that had been ruined by the rain. The green cup had traveled with him all the way from Ireland. How many times had they sat together near a roaring fire and talked of so many things while sipping a hot cup of tea? How many times had she fixed his tea, one dash of cream and two spoons of sugar in that cup? A lump formed in her throat, tears not far from the surface.
In her bedroom she found a metal chest beneath the damaged bed just where she had left it. That it hadn’t been taken was a miracle in itself, probably because it too had been buried beneath inches of mud. She took the time to thank God for leaving her something that meant so much to her. Her most precious memories were in that box, including an old picture of her mother. She unburied the treasure, wiping the mud from it with shaking fingers. She hadn’t the heart to open it now in case water had gotten into it. Facing more heartbreak didn’t bear thinking about right now. It went onto the small pile along with the other things she had collected.
Adrella found her father’s old desk buried beneath some loose timbers. It had remained untouched except for the scarring on its wood surface and the damage done from exposure to the elements. So many times as a little girl had she sat at her father’s feet by this desk while he’d managed the accounts.
The key for it was on a chain around her neck. Her father had put it there with the admonition to never remove it. She had no idea what was in the desk, but for her father to have been so adamant about it,
there must be something precious.
Removing the key from around her neck, she opened the top drawer that would release the lock on all the drawers.
In the top drawer she found her father’s inkwell and plume pen along with the account books. Amazingly the water that had managed to leak through the openings had done little damage to the book.
In this book was the history of the people who owed her father money. She glanced around at the people on the streets still trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. There was no way she could ever try to recoup the debts owed. It wasn’t in her to ask something from someone who had already lost so much.
Opening the bottom right hand drawer, she found her father’s money box. Her breath caught in her throat. Whatever was in here was the only thing that stood between her and destitution. She clutched it to her chest, afraid to even look.
She carefully opened the box, sucking in a sharp breath at the large stack of bills. There was a fortune here. She pulled it out to count it and noticed that they were all Confederate bills. Her heart dropped to her toes. Worthless! What did it mean that her father had kept these bills so long after the war had ended? Had he continued to accept the worthless money from the people of Apalach in order to help them out? She smiled sadly. That would be so like her father.
The few coins that were in the box were at least worth something, but they were not enough to live on.
Her father had recently added more stock to the store which accounted for the lack of federal money. That stock was now scattered around Apalach and buried beneath yards of debris.
Adrella sat down on the concrete stoop in front of what had once been their quarters. She stared silently, the numbness intensifying. What on earth was she to do now?
Chapter 7
For a long while Adrella sat on the stoop, her thoughts flitting from one thing to another. It was hard to settle her mind on anything. She had to make some kind of arrangements. It had never occurred to her that she would have nothing to come back to. Where was she to go? What was she to do? From the look of things around her, most of the people of Apalach were wondering the same thing.
There's Always Tomorrow Page 7