She placed the tripod over the fire and attached the kettle to the hanging handle. Adding water from the canteen, she prepared them some coffee. Although she much preferred tea, she knew Dathan would appreciate the heartier brew.
When she saw him coming up the beach, she poured him a cup. He set a second crate next to the first one and took the cup she handed him. He thanked her with a smile.
“I see you found the coffee. I could smell it coming up the beach.”
“Do you want a sandwich?”
He shook his head. “Maybe later. Right now I need to get the rest of the things brought up.”
“Are you sure I can’t help?”
He shook his head, swallowing the last of his coffee. “No, I can get the rest this next trip.”
Adrella glanced at him skeptically. “There doesn’t look like much here to last very long.”
“There doesn’t need to be. I will be going back over in two days.”
No wonder the man’s muscles looked like something made from granite. Rowing eight miles in a day, and he was going to do it again? She didn’t bother to ask why they would need to go back in two days’ time. One thing she had learned was that Dathan set his own agenda and, like the hurricane, it was best to bend in the wind if you didn’t want to be blown away.
When Dathan left again, Adrella got up and walked down to stand by the shore. The gulf waters lapping against the shore played a soothing cadence of music that filled her with awe. There was water for as far as the eye could see, with unknown beauty and dangers in its depths. She had always loved the gulf, even when it was in a temper.
The flashing rhythm of the light reflected on the surface of the water along with the moon. Stars were beginning to appear in ever-increasing numbers.
She silently watched, feeling closer to God than she had since her Da had died. Scriptures he had made her memorize as a child came back to her now bringing with them the sense of a fate far beyond her control.
Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me.
“What are you thinking?”
Adrella jumped, giving a slight scream. Her hand covered her chest where her heart thundered against her ribs.
“You scared me half to death!” she admonished.
Dathan gave her an amused smile. “You must have been a hundred miles away.”
She turned back to the water, now deep and dark with the absence of sunlight.
“No, not really,” she answered softly.
He came closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her heart, which had started to slow down to normal, now beat faster.
“Thinking of your father?”
She nodded.
“Me, too,” he told her quietly.
They stood for several moments staring out at the water in companionable silence. Dathan finally broke the hush. Squeezing her shoulder, he told her, “Come help me with the tent.”
Adrella followed him back to their camp, for the first time hopeful about the future.
Chapter 10
After the tent had been erected, Dathan and Adrella settled down near the fire to eat a late supper.
The sandwiches were of smoked ham and pickles, spread with home-churned butter, a specialty of Mrs. Evans. Adrella licked the residue from her fingers, only now realizing how hungry she had been.
Dathan was reclining on the sand across the fire from her. She handed him an orange and he took it from her, nodding his thanks.
The mosquitoes were finally a diminishing presence due to the changing weather. Adrella hugged her shawl closer against the chill temperature. Dathan noticed and added more wood to the fire, stirring the embers to give it more life.
Grace crawled into Adrella’s lap, turned in a circle and settled down. Adrella stroked the kitten’s soft fur and smiled at the ensuing purr. She glanced at Dathan and noticed that he seemed relaxed, content, which seemed odd given the circumstances.
She was hesitant to ask, but she knew there were things between them that needed to be brought out into the open. When Dathan had set up the tent, she noticed that he had made two pallets inside.
“Dathan.”
She paused, not certain how to put her thoughts into words. His lifted eyebrow encouraged her to continue. Hot color filled her face and she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m not certain what you expect of me as a wife,” she told him anxiously. Would he understand all the intricacies behind that simple statement? There was so much she was only now beginning to realize that they had never even discussed.
He studied her in silence for several seconds. The fire cast his face in shadows hiding his features from her. Not that she could read them anyway. He was the one with that gift.
Sparks shot up into the air startling her.
Dathan leaned forward and picked up his coffee. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what you expect of me as a husband, either.”
Adrella stared at him in surprise. She had been so concerned about herself that she hadn’t even given a thought to how he might be feeling at this suddenly arranged marriage. Was he feeling as uncomfortable right now as she was? It was hard to imagine. He was always so self-assured.
Two pallets suggested sleeping apart. Is this what he wanted from their marriage? Did he not want children someday? That was something she longed for with all her heart.
His searching look brought the warmth flooding into her face again. “You said you trusted me. Then trust me when I say I’m your friend. I would never do anything to harm that friendship.”
Whatever was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t helping matters any. Such a statement was hardly reassuring. She gave him an unfriendly look.
“Look, Adrella,” he said evenly. “I know I rushed you into this marriage. I know I never told you about my past and such but, despite that, I am still, and always will be, your friend. I want what you’re willing to give. No more, no less,” he said decisively.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved by that statement or not.
“Is ours then to be a marriage of convenience?”
She couldn’t read the look that passed through his eyes.
“Until we are ready for something more.”
What if they were never ready for something more? What if Dathan never grew to love her, what then? She heard him sigh and knew he was reading her thoughts in her face again.
“Adrella, let’s just go on as we have been for the past two weeks. We’ll let the future take care of itself.”
“And your family?” That was her greatest fear.
He frowned. “What about my family?” Seeing her expression, he sat up, his look wandering over her in appraisal. “What exactly are you afraid of?”
“I—I’m not certain what they will expect of your wife.”
“Since I doubt we will be seeing them anytime soon, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. I have no intention of returning to New York in the foreseeable future. I am quite content with being a lighthouse keeper.”
Adrella looked down, her hair tumbling about her face and hiding the thoughts he could so easily read. “I’m afraid I’ll shame you.”
He shook his head, smiling. “Never.”
He wasn’t taking the differences in their status as seriously as she was. After all, he was comfortable with a life of wealth, she was not.
His sigh echoed softly on the night air. “I would expect Mangus Murphy’s daughter to have a little more pride in herself.”
She jerked her head up, anger sparking in her eyes. “I have plenty of pride in meself!”
They glared at each other for several seconds. Dathan was the first to crack a smile. They both started laughing and Adrella felt once again the friendship they had shared together before their hasty marriage.
There was so much about Dathan that she didn’t know. She wondered just how much he was willing to tell her.
“Why is there such enmity between you and your parents? I would think being an only child, you would have been spoiled.”
The look he gave her spoke volumes. “You mean like you?”
Affronted, she sat up straighter and glared at him. “I am not spoiled!”
His eyes danced with laughter. “I was teasing, Adrella.”
Recognizing it for the truth, she told him “Sorry.” She settled back and apologized with a shrug. In actuality she probably was spoiled. At least a little. All right, maybe more than a little.
Dathan stared into the fire and his face suddenly took on a more serious cast.
“Actually,” he told her, “I wasn’t always an only child.”
Adrella sat forward in surprise, but refrained from comment hoping that he would continue. He did.
“I had a brother and a sister, but my sister died when I was twelve. She was eight.” He paused and Adrella could see he was trying to marshal his thoughts. “Gabriella was a beautiful child, the only girl of my parents and, yes—” he smiled at her “—quite spoiled.”
“How did she die?”
“She got influenza. No matter how wealthy you are, disease is no respecter of persons. It’s what first made me decide to become a doctor.”
He stirred the fire again. Adrella realized that she hadn’t even noticed it diminishing, so engrossed had she been in their discussion.
“And your brother? What happened to him? Was he younger than you, too?”
He shook his head. “No, he was actually the eldest. When the war started, he enlisted. My father was furious, but there was no stopping Wyatt. I think he had delusions of grandeur, believing he would be some kind of war hero. More than likely, though, it was just a way to get away from the pressure of our parents. He died at Gettysburg.”
It always came back to his parents. The mere mention of them had Adrella’s heart thumping irregularly with anxiety.
“In what way did they pressure him?”
He shrugged. “The right clothes, the right wife, the right job. You name it, they meddled in it.”
“And you?” she asked softly.
He smiled wryly. “Pretty much the same.”
He looked across the fire at her, but his thoughts were turned inward. She could tell it by the way his eyes were glassed over.
“I think my trouble with my parents originated when I became a Christian.”
“Your parents aren’t Christians?” she asked in surprise.
He shrugged. “Oh, they attend church, if that’s what you mean, but there is no real commitment there. They were appalled when I stopped drinking and began staying home to study more. Dances and soirees no longer appealed to me. I found myself absorbed in medicine, wanting to be a healer like Jesus.”
“But surely that’s a noble goal,” she insisted.
“They had no problem with my becoming a doctor, it was when I decided to follow my brother into battle.”
Adrella could well imagine how parents would feel about their child going off to war and possibly never returning.
“That’s understandable. They wouldn’t want to lose both of their sons after having lost their only daughter.”
“I suppose that’s true. It’s only as I have been here on the island with so much time to think that I realized just how much they loved me. I thought about having children of my own and how I would treat them.” Dathan’s smile was ironic. “I’m pretty sure I would meddle.”
Adrella chuckled. “I’m pretty certain I would as well.”
His look became more serious. “And do you want children, Adrella?”
More than anything, she wanted to tell him. Instead she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
That hadn’t really been an answer, but it would have to do for now. He had spoken only of friendship. She wanted so much more than friendship, but she supposed that would have to do for the time being.
She could tell he didn’t want to, but he allowed the conversation to drop. He took the kitten from her and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get some sleep,” he told her. “We have a big day ahead of us.”
Adrella had no idea what would constitute a big day when they were the only two people on a tiny island with very few supplies. Shrugging, she preceded Dathan into the tent. He handed her Grace and his eyes met hers briefly.
“Good night, Adrella,” he told her softly.
He settled down on his pallet, turning his back to her. She crawled into her own bed, settling Grace next to her, and did likewise.
* * *
The next morning when Dathan returned from tending the light, he found Adrella already up and fixing breakfast.
He had started a fire earlier and she was stirring a pot of oatmeal over the flame. She gave him a tentative smile.
“Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
He gave a quick nod and climbed into the tent, retrieving the pistol from his bag. He placed it in the band of his pants, covering it with his shirt. No sense in alarming Adrella until it was necessary. They would enjoy a nice breakfast first and maybe finish the conversation Adrella had so quickly terminated last night.
He sat on the ground near the fire. He would be so glad when the supplies arrived. While he was enjoying the time alone with Adrella, he was really getting tired of the lack of amenities. It reminded him a little too much of his time in the army.
Adrella handed him a bowl. “I didn’t know if you liked sugar in yours, or not, so I left it plain.”
His eyebrows flew to his hairline. “Does anyone eat oatmeal without sugar?”
“Of course.” She laughed. “It’s the way most Irish do it. A little milk, maybe.”
He shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “For future reference—” he cautioned “—I like mine with plenty of brown sugar and lots of butter.”
She stared at him in surprise, her fists on her hips. “Butter! Sugar I’ve heard of, but butter?”
“You eat yours your way, and I’ll eat mine my way,” he snorted derisively, but there was laughter in his eyes.
She just shook her head and sat down to eat. She had opened a can of milk and had poured a bowl for Grace before she poured her own.
“Adrella,” he started and saw her tense at the tone of his voice. Perhaps now was not a good time to continue their conversation from last night, he decided. She was obviously not in a mood for it. He would bide his time, but they would have to continue it sometime. In the meantime he didn’t want to rock the boat any further and possibly undo the trust he had garnered in her. He changed his mind about what he was going to say.
“I want you to learn how to care for the light.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, her spoon stopped midway to her mouth. “Seriously?”
He nodded, scooping brown sugar into his oatmeal. “I’ll take you this morning and show you what to do.”
“Why?” she asked uneasily.
He took a deep breath and was unable to meet her look. “I have to return to Apalach tomorrow and I need to be gone overnight. I need you to care for the light while I’m gone.”
He glanced back at her and met her appalled look.
“You’re leaving me here alone?” she croaked.
“I don’t have a choice,” he answered, the frustration coming through in his voice. He had tried to reason his way around this action, but had not been able to come up with a solution. He couldn’t le
ave her in Apalach and he couldn’t be two places at once. To get things started in regard to supplies, he needed to be on hand.
He sighed heavily. “Adrella, if I thought there was any danger at all, I would never leave you alone here.”
Several heartbeats passed before she asked him tonelessly, “If there’s no danger, why did you bring a gun?”
He glanced down and saw the gun peeking from his shirt. His eyes shifted to her.
“Honestly, I thought you might feel safer with it.”
Her face was ravaged by the fear that he sensed was escalating the more she thought about being alone here. He couldn’t blame her, having barely survived a hurricane of enormous magnitude. The dread in her eyes was his undoing. He closed the distance between them, placing his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.
“Never mind. I’ll think of something else.”
Her face was suddenly void of expression. “It’s something you really need to do, isn’t it? Something that only you can do.”
“Never mind. I’ll think of another way.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
His look was skeptical.
“Honestly,” she said doggedly.
He rubbed a hand behind his neck trying to ease the tension coiling there. Go, or stay? He couldn’t decide which would be better, or which was more necessary.
“Dathan, I’ll be fine. You took me by surprise is all.”
“I hope I can make it back in time,” he told her softly and saw the color drain from her face.
If she had a house to live in, this wouldn’t be such a problem. But living in a tent? He could foresee all kinds of problems. Did she see them as well?
She glanced around at their small camp. Her shoulders set resolutely.
“I can do it. At least the hurricane season is nearly past, so I won’t have that to worry with. Show me how to care for the light. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.”
There's Always Tomorrow Page 11