The girl shrieked and jumped, thankfully in the right direction. The other girls followed suit.
“Put it out, Mr. Hammond,” Priscilla pleaded with several well-timed bats of her eyelids.
Before the man could issue yet another reprimand, Louise strode over, lifted her skirts slightly and stomped on the leaf until the flame was extinguished.
“There,” she noted, spinning to face Mr. Hammond. “The problem is solved.”
“This time, but it demonstrates why you shouldn’t be here.”
My, that man could aggravate! Louise focused on Dinah. “How did this happen?”
The girl had gone pale as snow. “I—I was just lookin’ at things like you told us to do.”
“Looking?”
“Aye.” Dinah demonstrated holding out her glass.
“Your magnifying glass!” Louise turned so she stood in the same direction Dinah had been standing when the leaf caught fire. She held out her own magnifying glass. Sure enough, the sun’s rays reflected and concentrated on the surface in a bright dot. “That’s what happened. The sun must have reflected off the glass at just the right angle to set the leaf ablaze.”
“Carelessness,” Jesse Hammond stated. “Unchecked, it could have damaged one of the outbuildings or even spread toward town.”
Louise was about to counter that statement with the obvious truth that a sea of dry sand lay between the burnt leaf and any building, but the girls had begun murmuring amongst themselves again.
Priscilla smiled coyly at Mr. Hammond. “What would we have done without your assistance, Mr. Hammond? We are ever so grateful.”
Louise gritted her teeth. Pointing out that she had put out the fire would not endear her to Priscilla or Mr. Hammond. Since the girls’ attention was lost, nothing more could be learned today.
“Very well, ladies, we shall shorten our study today.”
That drew a grudging nod from the man. “I will hold you to that, Mrs. Smythe.”
“And I will speak with Mr. Blackthorn at first opportunity.”
He nodded again. “Please excuse me, ma’am. Ladies.” He then strode off toward the lighthouse without a single backward glance.
Louise didn’t know what she’d expected. The warmth of his hand and moment of compassion had vanished under the weight of his adherence to regulation. Jesse Hammond was a most unreasonable man.
“Isn’t he about the most handsome man you ever saw?” Linore sighed.
“Too tall,” Priscilla noted, as if she hadn’t done her best to attract his attention.
Certainly he had towered over Louise. Now that he was gone, her limbs set to trembling. The sheer force of the man brought back terrible fear. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, telling herself to forget the past. Jesse Hammond was not her late husband. Other than stature, they likely shared nothing else. Moreover, she had no connection to this man. She need have no dealings with him.
In the future she would avoid any possibility of crossing Jesse Hammond’s path.
* * *
Jesse had never been so skillfully outmaneuvered, especially by a tiny slip of a woman. He could appreciate that she’d stomped out the burning leaf rather than cry out like the girls, but that sensible act had only reminded him of his failure. He hadn’t leapt into action—not six years ago and not now.
Moreover, Louise Smythe had managed to counter every argument he put forth. She was probably right that the keeper wouldn’t mind. Blackthorn didn’t follow every regulation exactly as written. Sometimes, he didn’t follow them at all. That was a problem. A keeper was responsible for lives.
The smallest missed detail could lead to disaster, as Jesse well knew from that horrible night on the Sultana. The steamboat had left Vicksburg and then Memphis severely overloaded with soldiers eager to return home. They’d ignored the crowded conditions and sagging decks. After all, they’d endured the horrors of the prisoner of war camps. What was a little temporary discomfort when they soon would be home? Then came the explosion.
The memory still shook him from deep sleep, drenched in perspiration. Why had he survived when so many had died? He, above all, should have perished. Jesse asked God for an answer, but he’d received none. The best he could do was save others. In the lighthouse service, he could warn ships of danger and rescue people from foundered vessels.
Blackthorn’s indifference to regulation rubbed him wrong. Such callous disregard had cost lives six years ago. Jesse would make sure that never happened again. So, even though allowing a few ladies to walk across government property seemed innocuous, that burnt leaf pointed out how something small could lead to disaster.
Jesse located the keeper in the oil shed, drawing oil for the lamps. There wasn’t enough room for two small men inside the shed, least of all someone his size, so he waited outside.
Blackthorn capped the brass transfer can he used to transport oil. “What can I do for you, Jesse?” He rose with the exaggerated groans of a timeworn elder. “Bones are getting creaky.”
Jesse hoped that meant Blackthorn was considering retirement. It had surely led to the placement of an assistant, though Blackthorn had refused to relinquish many duties thus far.
Jesse returned his attention to the matter at hand. “I found some women walking on the dune just below the lighthouse.”
“Any pretty ones?”
Jesse felt the heat rise and coughed to hide his discomfort. “They’re young. Students.” And thus far too young for him. Mrs. Smythe, on the other hand, was rather attractive, though he could never condone her disregard for rules.
“Must be the girls from the boarding school.” Blackthorn exited the oil house and pulled the door shut. He then reached above the door, where he kept the key on a hook, and locked the door before putting the key back on its hook.
Jesse had tried to change this procedure, saying it didn’t do much for security to keep the key within reach. By now, the whole town must know it was there. But his pleas had been met with a laugh and an assurance that “we’ve always done it this way.” Blackthorn was too set in his ways. The lighthouse needed fresh eyes willing to see things in safer and more efficient ways.
“Was their teacher with them?” Blackthorn asked.
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Smythe.” Blackthorn shook his head. “Odd sort, that one. She’ll spend hours staring at a clump of dune grass, making notes in some book of hers.”
No doubt that was the journal she’d waved at her students. It looked well-used. Louise Smythe was not the type of woman he’d expected to find in a town like Singapore.
“She has an unusual interest in science.” That had intrigued Jesse.
Blackthorn squinted at him. “You don’t say. The lady hardly says a word.”
“That’s not my experience. She said plenty to me.”
“Maybe she’s getting more like the rest of the women she came here with.”
“The rest? There’s more like her?”
Blackthorn chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. Back, oh, I’d say a year ago, Mrs. Smythe arrived in town with Pearl Lawson, Amanda Porter and Fiona O’Keefe. They were answering an advertisement for a bride.” Again he laughed.
“That’s humorous?”
“It was at the time. Seems they all thought Roland Decker was the prospective groom when in fact it was his brother Garrett. You should’ve seen them running from one man to the other. Fact was, neither brother wanted to get married.”
“Then why place an advertisement?”
“They didn’t.” Blackthorn began walking back to the tower. “Turns out Garrett Decker’s children did. They wanted a new mama. Got one too. And Roland Decker and Sawyer Evans claimed two of the other three. There’s only Mrs. Smythe left. Of course, she’s the oldest. Must be around thirty.”
Then Jesse hadn’t been mistaken about her age. “What else do you know about her?” When Blackthorn gave him a quick look, Jesse regretted his question. “I need to know how to deal with her,” he added, feeling the heat again creep up his neck. “She’s...difficult.”
“Is she? Always seemed quiet as a mouse to me. Would rather poke her nose in a book than speak to anyone. Skips most of the church suppers and the like. Maybe the missus knows more.”
They’d reached the lighthouse. Rather than enter the tower, Blackthorn stuck his head into the door to the keeper’s quarters.
“Jane!”
Jesse waved his hands, trying to get Blackthorn to stop. He did not want Mrs. Blackthorn involved. She would start matching him to every eligible girl in town.
Blackthorn came out of the open doorway. “Go on in, Jane’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Uh, that’s not what I wanted.”
“Ambitious young man like you oughta be lookin’ for a wife.”
Jesse squared his shoulders. “First I need to be able to provide.” Unlike his father and mother, whose impetuous decision cost dearly. “Maybe when I’m head keeper I’ll be able to consider a wife.”
Blackthorn shook his head. “You got a lot ta learn, son. A man’s got a leg up on gettin’ the head job if he’s got a wife and family.”
“He does?” That was news to Jesse, troubling news, for he couldn’t afford a wife.
“Oh, you won’t catch anyone sayin’ it right out, but you just look around, especially at them remote lights, and you’ll see what I mean. One man can’t run this place. Not when the service expects you ta be on duty twenty-four hours a day.”
Now Jesse understood. The man was back to his favorite annoyance—Jesse’s arrival. “That’s why there are assistants.”
“Assistants! Bah!” Blackthorn waved off the idea as he headed for the tower.
Jesse followed, his thoughts drifting back to the earlier conflict on the dune. “What I really need to know is if you approve of Mrs. Smythe trespassing on government property.”
Blackthorn shook his head. “You gotta get your head out of those books of yours and into real life. Those ladies aren’t doing no harm. This here’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. It pays to be on people’s good side.”
“But the property—”
“This isn’t a fort. It’s a lighthouse. People are curious. They stop by all the time. Treat ’em like a neighbor, and they’ll do the same for you.”
Blackthorn then opened the door to the tower. Each day he poured some of the oil into a smaller filling can and then carried it up the circular iron staircase to begin filling the lamps. The process took several trips up and down the tower staircase. According to Article IV of the manual, the filling of the lamps was supposed to be done as soon as the lamps were cleaned except when cold weather would make the oil too thick to flow. That meant late morning, but Blackthorn didn’t keep a regular schedule. Moreover, today’s warm temperatures offered no excuse for tardiness. If Jesse was head keeper, he’d follow the manual’s instructions to the letter. As assistant, he could only stand by.
“Let me help you.” Jesse stooped slightly to get through the door.
“No need.”
Jesse swallowed frustration. The keeper hadn’t let him touch anything in the lantern. If Jesse was ever going to be head keeper, he had to know more than could be gleaned from the manual. He needed experience. Even without that experience, he’d discovered some inefficiencies that could be rectified. “I could show you a faster way to handle the oil.”
Blackthorn practically glared at him. “I’ve been tending lighthouses for more than twenty years. Don’t you think that I know what works best and what doesn’t?”
Jesse choked back the retort that clearly Blackthorn didn’t. If he would carry the large can up the stairs and transfer the oil to the smaller filling can when he reached the top, he wouldn’t have to go up and down the staircase so many times. Since pointing this out had gotten Jesse nowhere, he wouldn’t rankle the keeper again.
So Jesse swallowed his pride. “I suppose you do, sir.”
“That’s right. Jane said she needed something from the store. Find out what it is and go fetch it.” The man finished pouring the first batch of oil into the filling can and began the long climb up the circular staircase, the soles of his boots ringing against the iron steps.
Jesse backed out. Though he’d only been here six days, he was sick of being nothing more than an errand boy. Other than polishing lamps, which the children could do, Blackthorn hadn’t let him near any of the equipment. Jesse closed the tower door against the ever-drifting sand.
“What do you want to know about Louise?” Mrs. Blackthorn’s voice made him jump. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were expecting me.”
“I was?”
“Samuel said it was something about Louise Smythe?”
“Oh. I suppose I did, ma’am.” Jesse couldn’t recall what he’d intended to ask about Louise. Since Blackthorn approved her climbing all over the dunes, Jesse had lost that argument. He searched for something else. “I, uh, understand she’s a teacher.” That sounded pretty feeble.
“Down at the boarding school in the west wing of the hotel.” Mrs. Blackthorn pointed it out, as if he hadn’t noticed the place before.
It hadn’t taken long to ascertain that Singapore was tiny. It boasted few businesses beyond the general store, the boardinghouse and the hotel. There were a few saloons, but Jesse didn’t frequent those, and the church looked like the rest of the bunkhouses used by the lumberjacks and saw operators when they came to town. Boardwalks stretched between businesses so people didn’t have to walk through the sand. The streets served more pedestrians than wheeled transportation. Jesse had yet to see a buggy or horse other than the wagon down at the docks. Then again, the town was only a few blocks long and even fewer deep.
It was a good place to begin remaking his life.
“I hear tell she’s a war widow,” Mrs. Blackthorn said.
The words shot through Jesse like lead. Not the war. He’d done all he could to escape the harrowing memories. A lighthouse offered a chance to get away from the endless war stories and sorrow. He’d hoped to land at a remote island lighthouse but instead was assigned here.
“You all right, Mr. Hammond?”
Jesse managed a smile. “Just lost in thought.”
“Just like her.”
“Like who?”
“Like who?” Mrs. Blackthorn shook her head. “Like Louise. That’s who we’ve been talking about, isn’t it?”
Jesse had to agree that it was, but Mrs. Blackthorn’s description of her didn’t match his experience. “She didn’t seem very quiet to me.”
That made Mrs. Blackthorn smile. “Well now, isn’t that interesting. Might be you managed to catch her eye. She is looking to marry, you know.”
Jesse grimaced. “That’s what your husband said. But I’m not. I need to get established as a keeper first.”
“Isn’t that just like a man.”
Jesse stiffened. “A man needs to be able to provide.”
“Love doesn’t wait for our schedule. Neither does the lighthouse service.”
That was the second Blackthorn who had mentioned marriage in connection with being a keeper. “Why do you say that?”
“Samuel would never have been named keeper if he hadn’t had a wife and family.”
Jesse was still skeptical. The woman could be using it as an excuse to match make. “Are you certain?”
“As certain as day and night. Why, they came right out and asked him if he was married.”
Jesse’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready for marriage. He hadn’t saved nearly enough to support a wife, but if he wanted to get promoted to head keeper, h
e was going to have to set aside his reservations. This town didn’t look big enough to offer much of a choice, not if men were willing to advertise for a wife.
“Louise would make a fine catch. Did you notice the cut of her clothing?”
Jesse couldn’t say he had.
“Quality,” Mrs. Blackthorn said. “Pure quality. That says something.”
So did the fact that she was a war widow. If he must marry, he would look anywhere else for a wife.
Chapter Two
The remainder of the day, Priscilla had remained smugly silent, her gaze boring into Louise with such intensity that she feared the girl was up to no good. To cut off possible problems, Louise went to the headmistress’s office once classes had ended and the girls were upstairs freshening up before supper.
Fiona Evans sat at the desk perusing what appeared to be a ledger. Her brow was furrowed, and she rubbed her temple while eliciting a sigh.
Dread settled in the pit of Louise’s stomach. She’d heard rumors that Fiona and Sawyer’s hotel was not doing well. Since the school was in the same building, her livelihood could be at risk, especially if Priscilla said anything negative to her parents. Though nothing untoward had happened on the dune, Priscilla could twist the truth into something ugly. The Benningtons could do great damage to the school’s reputation. Their approval of the new school had led to Adeline and Esther’s enrollment. At their word, every paying student could leave. That made this conversation both important and difficult.
Louise rapped on the door frame. “You seem worried.”
Fiona looked up and closed the ledger. “More like perplexed. I don’t have a mind for figures. Please come in.” The beautiful redhead motioned to the chair positioned at the side of her desk. “My apologies for the hot room. I had hoped autumn would bring cooler temperatures. I don’t know when I’ve seen so many hot, dry days this time of year.”
“It is unusual.” Louise’s shoes rapped on the waxed wood floor as she crossed the room.
She then settled on the chair. Though she and Fiona had become friends before the school came into existence, it didn’t make this conversation any easier. She searched for a way to begin.
Would-Be Mistletoe Wife Page 2