The Beaches and Brides ROMANCE COLLECTION: 5 Historical Romances Buoyed by the Sea

by Cathy Marie Hake, Lynn A. Coleman, Mary Davis, Susan Page Davis

  “The history of the Swan family made it all the way out here, Uncle. I know what his family did.”

  “Their history isn’t Jacob’s. You knew him as a boy and as a young man. He’s a good person. That hasn’t changed. He wasn’t with his brothers or father when they pillaged and set fire that night. Their actions have caused him enough pain, and I won’t have you joining in with the townsfolk and judging him unfairly. Jacob is a wonderful man of God. He wants nothing more than to live in peace, free from the demons that pursue him. He only seeks quiet and relaxation. The marriage will be in name only, for propriety’s sake. You both seem determined in your quest to avoid marriage. Perhaps this arrangement will protect you from the very institution you both abhor.”

  Hollan couldn’t help but laugh. “Marriage will protect us from marriage? That makes no sense.”

  “Nothing much makes sense lately, Hollan.” Her uncle sighed. “But if you’re both sure you don’t want to seek out love and settle down with someone else—someone else you care deeply for—then this arrangement is for the best. You’ll have the protection you require and, in exchange, someone to run the lighthouse.”

  “And what will Jacob get?”

  “The quiet life on the island will agree with Jacob and will salve the scars of his past. I have no doubt he’ll like it here. The two of you loved each other before. I know you’ll take care of each other, even if your love is gone. You’ll see the good in him. And in time the townspeople will see it, too.”

  Hollan started to ask what scars he carried but figured with his family history it was obvious. When Jacob went to serve in the war, his brothers and father had evaded any type of service. They’d been suspected of pillaging and raiding local towns instead.

  “If you don’t want to agree to this arrangement, you’ll need to head up to the house and pack your things. We’ll leave late afternoon when Fletcher returns for his mother.”

  “I marry Jacob, or I leave the island.” The whispered words blew away on the breeze. “I can’t leave my island. It’s all Samson and I have left. It’s our home.”

  “Then you agree to the marriage?”

  She thought hard, but no better solution came to her. “Yes, Uncle Edward. Prepare the way for my wedding. I guess I’ll marry the outlaw.”

  “You’ll marry a gentleman. I’ll have you see it no other way.”

  “Perhaps you should reintroduce me to my groom.” She folded her arms at her chest and refused to turn around to see if Jacob stood nearby. “Is he still standing on the hill listening?”

  Her uncle chuckled. “No, he fled after your foot stomp. He’s down the beach a bit with Samson.”

  “With Samson? The traitor.”

  They fell into step together and headed in that direction. The sound of the surf rose in volume as they neared the shore. Hollan’s bare feet sank into the soft sand, and an impetuous thought made her smile. What would her new husband think of her perpetually shoeless state? Perhaps he’d never know. But with the loss of her sight, she needed to use each and every sense she could. She loved to feel the textures of the ground around her. And she found the sensation of sand beneath her toes to be her favorite sensation of all. She wouldn’t have that pleasure in town. She’d made the right decision, even if it was scary and hard.

  She stopped momentarily to breathe in the always-present, reassuring scent of her surroundings. Marriage couldn’t be worse than losing the island. She’d come through this and be just fine on the other side. She was not her mother.

  Her uncle’s voice broke into her musings. “Samson seems content. He’s retrieving sticks thrown into the water by Jacob. Maybe the animal sees the merit of the situation better than you do.”

  “Samson doesn’t make up with anyone, Uncle Edward. You know that. All the changes of late must be muddling his little doggy brain.”

  “That dog has more brain than most men I know, your fiancé not included.”

  “My fiancé.” She groaned.

  “Your fiancé only for a short while.” Her uncle’s voice held a hint of laughter. “Before you have a chance to get used to the idea, your fiancé will be your spouse.”

  “Maybe I could have a bit more time to get used to the fiancé angle before we jump into marriage?” she asked hopefully.

  “Take all the time you need. After reintroductions, you’ll have the better part of the next hour to get used to the spouse part of the idea. You’ll get through this just fine.”

  Hollan stopped, and Samson ran to her side. She ran a clammy hand self-consciously through her wind-tossed hair. The hot sun beat down on her back. What must her husband-to-be think of her? Did he, too, see the ceremony as “something to get through”? Would he someday mourn his loss of choice in handpicking a bride in the future? He’d already turned his back on her once. Would he spend the rest of his life regretting her?

  She squared her shoulders and moved forward. She wouldn’t be pathetic. Her fiancé would meet the independent woman who was his future wife.

  Chapter 4

  Jacob, Hollan thought it best that you meet again before you marry.”

  The introduction felt odd, but as Edward led the beautiful but reluctant woman closer, Jacob realized she might as well be a stranger to him. Hollan had matured and grown even more beautiful, something he hadn’t thought possible three short years earlier. She wore her auburn hair pulled up, but stray wisps blew around her face. She reached up to hold them tentatively away from her delicate features. He saw only a glimpse of her warm brown eyes before she looked away.

  Jacob wondered if she felt as awkward in the situation as he did. Outwardly she seemed completely calm, but judging by her earlier response, she, too, felt the tension. And how could she not? Her life had taken on a myriad of changes in a very short time.

  “Hollan.” Jacob stepped forward. “The years have been good to you. I’m pleased to see you again.” He winced. Perhaps those weren’t the best choice of words to say to someone who’d lost almost everything they valued.

  She reached a dainty hand his way, and he took it briefly in his own. She looked toward him, though her eyes didn’t meet his. A slight smile tilted up the corners of her mouth as her chin dipped in a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m pleased to meet you again, too.” The forced smile stayed in place as she bit out each word.

  Jacob held back the laugh that threatened at her forced words. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their future together, but she was anything but pleased. Her choices had been reduced to a life in town away from everything she knew and loved or a life married to—as far as she was concerned—a complete and total stranger who had already wreaked havoc in her life once before. That their marriage came with her uncle’s blessing didn’t really matter at this point—he was a stranger to her all the same.

  An unexpectedly protective urge slammed through him as he held her soft hand in his, even as he felt the strength in her own response. She squeezed his hand once and released him.

  “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. I have several things to attend to before we do the ceremony.”

  Jacob didn’t miss the momentary panic that moved across Hollan’s face. She wasn’t as calm as she tried to let on. He’d do his best to put her at ease, but in reality he was just as nervous and shaken up.

  They stood quietly for a few moments as her uncle made his retreat. Jacob loved the man, owed him his life, and would do everything in his power to make things easier for his former fiancée.

  “Shall we walk?”

  “Walk?” Hollan stuttered over the word, glancing up the coast.

  “You know, one foot in front of the other as we move along the shore?” He figured the distraction of movement would be better than awkwardly standing there. “We should at least try to get acquainted as your uncle suggested. It’s been a long time. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “I suppose.”

  “If I may?” He reached for her hand and placed it against his bent arm. She stiffened
, and he thought she might pull away, but then she relaxed and accepted his assistance. He felt the heat from her fingers through the rolled-up sleeves of his thin cotton shirt. The sensation was pleasantly familiar. He’d missed her touch. He suddenly realized this wouldn’t be nearly as easy as he’d imagined. The heart of stone he’d envisioned at his core was suddenly turning to mush.

  They began to walk, and he took care not to let the waves break against her long dark skirt. A few times he led her higher up the beach to avoid an especially aggressive wave.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Guidelines.” Which, based on his response to her touch, they now needed worse than ever.

  Her brows drew together. Her hand tightened against his arm, and her steps faltered. “Guidelines? Such as?”

  “I know you aren’t exactly excited about this arrangement.”

  He hesitated when she laughed.

  “That’s an understatement.” Remorse immediately replaced the smile. “I’m sorry. It can’t be much easier for you. You’re making a great sacrifice and doing me a huge favor by allowing me to remain here, for reasons I can’t even imagine.”

  The way his emotions were tossing about—much like the faraway ship moved across the storm-tossed sea—it didn’t make marriage to her feel like such a sacrifice. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be fine. But I want you to have peace with the situation, at least as much peace as possible. I want to do what I can to make the adjustment easier for us both.”

  She stopped. “Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you? I want to hear your reasons from you.”

  “I think that answer is obvious. I know your uncle went over it with you. But to reiterate, we each have something the other needs.”

  “And what would that be?”

  He reached for her wrist as she pulled away. Her rapid pulse beat against his fingers. He prayed for the words that would help soothe her fears as he again tucked her hand firmly in place. They continued walking at a leisurely pace.

  “You aren’t the only one who’s had a rough time of it. You know I owe your uncle a great deal. I owe you, too. The night I left town, after what my family did, I couldn’t face you. I needed to get away.” He didn’t really want to hear the specific details of what his brothers had done, but he left her the opportunity to discuss that night if she needed to. Otherwise, the details would come out in time.

  “And yet you’ve returned.”

  “Yes.” He was surprised she didn’t lash out or want to discuss the details. But perhaps she’d never want to discuss it. He glanced down at the sand as they walked, and a delicate shell caught his attention. He bent to pick it up. Most of the shells on the beach had been broken into jagged pieces by the strong tides before they ever finished their tumble to shore. He started to throw his find into the ocean, but instead he carried it as they walked along, turning the smooth object over and over with his fingers. This shell, which looked so delicate, had to be strong to have made it through the rough waters in one piece. It reminded him of the woman who walked beside him. “The trails didn’t hold the answers I’d hoped for.”

  “And you expect to find the answers out here?”

  “The answers will come in time. Here I’ll find quiet and relaxation. At least that’s what Edward tells me.” He grinned her way, even though she wouldn’t notice. The smile carried on his words. “I suppose that remains to be seen.”

  Judging by the effect the gently breaking waves about a dozen feet out were having on him, Uncle Edward was correct. He felt a peace here he hadn’t felt on the mainland. Or maybe it was the gentle nature of the woman walking beside him that charmed his heart. He hoped the feeling was mutual.

  “I won’t get in your way.”

  Not quite the response he’d envisioned and hoped for.

  “I don’t want you to avoid me. I don’t want to force any changes on you.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Pardon?”

  “What are your expectations?”

  “I have no expectations. I haven’t had time to think of any.”

  “I guess that’s true. Where do you plan to sleep?”

  Again she had him grinning. “You don’t tiptoe around your thoughts, do you?” He hadn’t smiled this much in years.

  “I try not to. You know my father. He taught me that if a question is good enough to think about, it’s worthy of putting into words.”

  His father’s teachings had been far different. “I always liked your father. But to answer your question”—he turned back and glanced at the lighthouse—“your uncle said there’s a room at the base of the lighthouse that would serve well as my living quarters.”

  Her features relaxed as she released a soft sigh. He hadn’t noticed she’d been holding her breath while waiting for his answer.

  “Indeed. He’s right. That will work out nicely. The room is already set up with a bed. My father would often stay out there during difficult weather. Except for the night he disappeared.” Her voice tapered off. A scowl marred her features.

  “Fletcher said he searched the island.”

  “He did. But I don’t feel as if my father is gone.” Her grip tightened against his arm. “When my mother—died, after I came to, I knew instantly that she was no longer with us.”

  “I’ll continue to look for him. If he’s here, we’ll find him.”

  “Thank you.” For the first time her smile appeared to be genuine. “Fletcher and Sylvia seem to think it’s shock talking when I say that. My uncle surely thinks the same.” She shrugged.

  They turned and headed back toward the cottage, the silence around them broken only by the cries of the seagulls.

  She abruptly appeared to shake off the melancholy mood along with whatever thoughts were on her mind by quickly changing the subject. “I’ll make your meals of course.”

  “That would be nice.”

  A most charming blush colored her cheeks. “You can eat in your room or up in the lighthouse if you’d prefer, but I won’t mind if you’d like to join me at mealtime, either. I’d appreciate the company.” She dropped her hand from his arm and hugged her arms around her torso.

  Though in all likelihood she was only trying to be charitable in order to please her uncle, and judging from her actions hoped he’d say no, he couldn’t stop the words that instantly popped out in response to her invitation. “I’d like that.”

  “You would?” Surprised, she stumbled and would have fallen had he not grabbed her by the arm. “Well, then … ouch!”

  He’d been so mesmerized by Hollan and her enticing personality that he hadn’t paid enough attention to all the broken shells and the uneven shoreline on this part of the beach. He should have been more diligent. Edward was counting on him to keep Hollan safe.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m fine.” She waved him away, a look of desperation on her face as she tilted her head and listened to the sounds.

  Jacob could only hear the surf breaking at their feet along with the calls of seagulls from up ahead.

  “We’re almost back to the cottage. Sylvia has been feeding the gulls about this time every day, and I can hear them begging up near the lighthouse.” She took a cautious step, gasped, and closed her eyes in pain.

  “You’re hurt. Let me have a look.”

  “No.”

  “You’re soon to be my wife. I don’t think it will hurt for me to take a look. One of the shells must have cut through your boot.”

  “I’m not wearing any boots.” She sighed. Frustrated, she scrunched her fingers in her hair. More loosened tendrils of auburn hair blew around her face. “I like to feel the sand under my feet.”

  She started when he laughed out loud.

  “You find the notion funny?”

  “I find you to be quite funny.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her away from the shells.

  “I beg your pardon! Jacob, put me down!”

  He had no intention of pu
tting her down. She felt too good in his arms. “I will as soon as we get past these broken shells.” He settled her on a large piece of driftwood before dropping to his knees in the sand. “Let me see the damage.”

  With a sigh she allowed him to look at her foot.

  “There’s still a fragment embedded in your skin. You’re bleeding. No wonder it hurt to walk.” He gently tugged the shell loose, but Hollan still gasped and patted at his arm.

  “Ah, that hurt!”

  “Sorry. The fragment is out now, but you can’t walk on your foot. You’ll fill the cut with sand. Stay put for a moment.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and walked down to dip it in the water.

  Hollan stood, apparently planning to follow him.

  Some things never changed.

  “Must you always be so stubborn?” he called. She’d been an opinionated handful since the first day he’d met her. “I said to stay put. The last thing you need is an infection, and these shells can give you a pretty nasty one if you aren’t careful.”

  He hurried to where she’d settled back down on the log.

  “And you’re as boorish as ever.” She crossed her arms as she huffed out the words.

  He brushed at the wound, but the sand wouldn’t come free. “I’m going to have to carry you back down to the water. You’ll need to hold your skirt up while I dip your foot in the ocean.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. If you’ll lend me your handkerchief, I can make a bandage. When we get back to the cottage, I’ll make a poultice out of herbs.”

  “I’m sure you will, and that’ll be fine, just as soon as we get all the sand out.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue as he lifted her up in his arms.

  “Put me down,” she hissed.

  He walked to the water’s edge. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  Ignoring her, he dipped her foot into the ocean, soaking her skirt hem with seawater in the process. “There. That ought to do it.”

  “My skirt is drenched.”

  “I said you’d need to hold it up.”

  She glared his way. “And I said I wasn’t ready.”