Abigail knew who it was without turning her head—Gavin, the man she had been in love with since she was five. Although, she would never admit to it, she kept the secret tucked deep inside. “I wasn’t going to,” she said with a crooked smile. “I want to see the water’s edge and sea spray.”
Gavin walked up beside her and peered over the edge. “I can see it.”
Abigail let out an exasperated sigh, sat back on her heels, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you on watch?”
“Yep, just came up the trail from the lifesaving station. You’re lucky you know, not all lighthouses have a station so close. Many of the keepers have to rescue the sailors themselves. What would you do then?”
“I would make Uncle Charlie and Nash go out, of course.”
He glanced around the precipice and over to the small white house where she lived. “Where is your brother?”
Abigail motioned with her head toward a small gillnetter fishing vessel sailing through the treacherous Columbia River Bar.
Gavin studied the sky and turned back to Abigail. “He’s really pushin’ his luck today; it’s almost dark and about to storm.”
“Yeah, but no one can stop him when he gets the idea in his head that he wants to fish. Plus, he is the luckiest man I have ever met. He never gets hurt.”
“One of these days his luck will run out.”
Abigail nodded in agreement and turned her attention to the water. A peaceful sensation swept over her as she watched the water and stood beside the man she loved. This felt right. It should always be like this, with them together.
Gavin moved to stand beside her and she turned to watch while he lifted his binoculars. He moved his head in slow motion, back-and-forth gazing over the water, as he always did when he searched the sea for ships. He was one of the twelve men that worked for the Cape Disappointment Lifesaving Station. His job was to rescue the sailors who were unfortunate enough to sink their ships over the merciless bar. A place known to many as: The Graveyard of the Pacific.’ And for a good reason.
“Did you see us train today? I was on the far left of the overturned boat.”
“Oh? And did you turn the boat back-to-rights all by yourself?” Her eyes twinkled at the good-natured taunt, and she watched him lean against the safety railing.
“Nah, every once in a while I let the boys think they are doin’ the work.” He winked at her before he brought the binoculars back to his eyes.
A slight grin curved Abigail’s lips. She enjoyed the familiar banter with the hero of her dreams. Gavin had been one of her brother’s friends when they were in school, and she had been the bothersome little sister that trailed in his wake for years.
Abigail was fifteen and her brother eighteen when her parents died. They were sent to live with their uncle—the lighthouse keeper. On her first day there, she saw Gavin at work. She watched from the cliffs as the crew rescued a vessel in distress, and Gavin was in charge that day. Right in the middle of the rescue he had shown his brute strength when the other crewmembers had been unable to lift a large man out of the water and into the safety of the boat. In a great show of masculinity, Gavin leaned over the edge of the vessel and with one hand, grabbed the back of the man’s shirt and hauled him into the boat, without problem.
Later that same day Abigail came upon Gavin in the Octagon Watch structure just inside the lifelines of the observation deck. He’d been angry. Effected by the lifeless body of a little girl they plucked out of the water after the man. He confessed to Abigail his sorrows and fears that night. That was the moment when she had stopped seeing him as a girlish crush, and fell in love with him—a deep and irrevocable love.
The sound of the Life stations dinner bell brought Abigail out of her reverie. She turned toward her house. “I’d better get going. Hamilton went out with Nash so Hamilton’s fiancée, Elsie, wants to come over to spend the afternoon with me.”
Although she’d rather stay with Gavin.
“So now I have to stand all four hours of my watch alone? What kind of friend are you?” he joked.
“I think you can handle it. If you see anyone that needs rescuing, just flash me the signal and I’ll show you how it’s done.” She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side to accentuate her words. Loving the way they bantered. She wouldn’t give these moments up for anything.
“Maybe I’ll get lost so you can rescue me,” he said with a playful grin.
“Anytime. Just let me know when you plan on it, and where you will be, so I can find you.” She gave him a flirtatious smile and turned around to run down the hill that led to her house.
Gavin sat back on his heels and watched her run. Her beauty had stolen his breath once again as she disappeared into the lighthouse. Whenever she was around, he found it hard to concentrate—which wasn’t good since he was supposed to be concentrating on studying to ocean for vessels in distress. Observation watch duty wasn’t something the crew liked to do— especially on a cold day such as this— but Gavin found himself volunteering for it more than normal, just to see her.
Her lithe form and dark hair made him want to touch her, to hold her. Even though she was more than capable of caring for herself, he knew what the world offered and wanted to protect her from harm. He loved everything about her.
He didn’t want to love her—she was his best friend’s little sister—but somehow throughout the years, he had grown fond of her innocence and strength. He would never confess as much, especially to her brother. Nash had proven on many occasions to be fiercely protective of his sister. Gavin would once again view her from a distance and imagine what it would be like to have her for his own.
Chapter 2
Those typhoons and hurricanes I see in its path,
Will they wreck this fine ship and bring down your wrath?
My love is eternal, I hold out my hands.
This ship will succeed, if it keeps my commands.
Who’s at the helm, to guide its straight course?
Will they lead it astray and cause you remorse?
-Dave Torell
A Ship at Sea vs. 4-5
Just outside Columbia River Bar - dusk, December 22
The sea was choppy. Nash found it hard to navigate the darker it grew, a definite sign of the devastation that would occur if he and Hamilton didn’t make it across in time. The sun had begun to set. What should have been rose petal pinks and deep oranges of sunset were instead the gloomy gray and dark blue of a storm—a warning for the sailors to make port.
They should have listened to the advice Abigail gave them before they left, and to the sea when it warned them of danger. They were not yet to the mouth of the river and already they struggled to stay afloat, and the storm had not even started.
Nash could see his breath puff out at the same moment a giant wave tossed the small two-man vessel to port so hard they had to hold on tight to a line just to stay on the vessel. They approached the bar fast, the depth of the water near the entrance so shallow that in sea states such as this, the steep waves crested and broke, a dangerous welcome to the sailors that wished to enter.
He heard Hamilton yell over the sound of the waves and watched as he pointed to where the lighthouse should be visible, but instead a thick blanket of fog covered the cliffs. If anything were to happen to his ship, The Abigail, no one would know. They were on their own to make it to port safe and had to use but the skills learned through years of sailing.
With skillful accuracy, Nash took control of the sails that whipped in the wind. He needed to position them just right in order to get over the bar.
Hamilton sat at the helm and turned the rudders against the current and ocean tides as they sailed through the angry waves. The ship pitched and rolled, tossed back and forth against the watery walls. What should have taken a minute or two to cross, became fifteen.
They were just about clear of the bar and Nash sighed in relief, when he realized the end of the turbulent water was near. In another moment they would be
in the safety of Baker Bay.
Just when they thought they were clear of the raging water, a large wave swept over their small vessel and snapped the mast in two. Nash’s heart thumped at the same moment the mast crashed onto the deck. Without the sail, the boat cleared the break and floated into the calm waters of Baker Bay. Nash studied the deck but Hamilton wasn’t there.
Nash tripped over a line as he searched over one side, and then another; his heart pounding at the thought of his friend being tossed overboard. He picked up the mainsail that spread over the vessel, and held back tears at the sight of Hamilton’s body, lifeless beneath the sail and mast. In two steps, Nash stood over to Hamilton and, with all of his might, pulled the mainsail off and tossed it onto the wooden deck.
He held his finger to his friends neck to fill a pulse. Faint, yet there. He was still alive, but unconscious. He ran his hands along his friend body. A broken leg, massive bruising, and a few cuts, but the rest of him seemed to be all right.
They had to get to land to get Hamilton some help, but with no sail and with the fog so thick they could barely see in front of them, he had no idea how that was going to happen.
The ship continued to float, disabled but gliding through the water. If they were lucky, they tide would pull them back to the safety of land.
Nash pulled his friend from beneath the mast and adjusted his position, hoping it would make him as comfortable as possible. He wrapped one of the blankets from their emergency kit around both of them and hunkered down. Waiting. As long as they kept afloat they would eventually reach land. He only hoped they landed somewhere with people.
Two hours later, the boat jarred to a stop as it hit bottom. He stood and glanced around. The fog had thickened even more and made it almost impossible to make out where they were.
He jumped down, knee-high in the ice-cold water, and pulled the mooring line of the vessel to make his way to the beach. He would tie up and search the area for people, or at the very least a good place to camp out until the fog lifted.
Thirty minutes later, he’d found a small clearing where they could hunker down and start a fire, but no sign of habitation. He pulled out the survival gear he kept in the boat and made his way to the clearing. It took only a few minutes to get a small campfire built, and ready an area for Hamilton. Three sides of the area he chose were overgrown by brush, the trees overhead and brush blocked the wind and held in the heat from the fire. At least this way they wouldn’t freeze to death.
Nash went back to the boat and, with the rest of his energy, carried his unconscious friend to the safety of the fire. He spent the next couple of hours keeping an eye on Hamilton and trying to form a survival plan. The thick fog prevented him from finding out where they were, and he couldn’t even see the light through the fog. He shrunk slightly in defeat and snuggled deep into one of the wool blankets, letting his exhaustion take over while he slept.
Chapter 3
Who’s at the helm, to guide its straight course?
Will they lead it astray and cause you remorse?
-Dave Torell
A Ship at Sea vs. 6
Abigail paced the observation deck furiously the next morning. Frustration took over as she peered once again into the dense fog that had settled the night before and give no sign that it would lift soon. Her brother promised to be back by dark—yesterday. He went the whole night without checking in after tying up. This worried her more than his absence. He often spent nights out, but always checked in to make sure she was okay first.
She took one last perilous look, turned on her heels and decided to go to the only person who she knew she could trust.
Twenty minutes later, she walked into the common room of the lifesaving station. On the large wall to her right was a giant hearth, which shone with the warmth of a fire. Chairs scattered around the room and formed a cozy area for the men to spend their down time. On the wall opposite the fireplace, the station’s motto was painted in black against the white walls.
‘The Blue Book says we’ve got to go out and it doesn’t say a damn thing about having to come back.’
-Captain Patrick Etheridge, USLSS
A fearsome reminder to Abigail of the dangers Gavin faced on a day-to-day basis.
A young man reclined in a large chair and turned when she walked into the room. “Hello Miss, can I help you?”
“I need to see Gavin Walker. Please.” Her voice held a slight tremor of emotion, but she couldn’t help it.
“I’ll get him for you, Miss. Have a seat.” He pointed to the chair he just vacated. Abigail gave him a small smile and turned to pace the room.
Within seconds, Gavin’s hurried footsteps echoed on the wooden planks of the passageways.
“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked the second he entered the common room.
“Nash didn’t return last night.”
“Could he have been too tired when he got back and stayed in town?”
Abigail shook her head and cried, no longer able to hold back the emotion. “He always comes home and checks in after he goes out, but he didn’t last night.”
“Okay Abby, calm down and relax. I’ll go talk to Keeper Gipson.” He turned and strode out of the room.
Just as she gained control of her emotions, a commotion in the main hallway filled the space around her. She leaned over as men swarmed into the passageway. They dressed as quickly as they could in warm clothes, gathered necessary gear, and pulled out charts of the area, then prepared to depart. Within minutes Abby found herself pushed against the wall as the men ran through the room and out the door, headed for the rescue boats.
She turned just as Gavin and Keeper Gipson entered. Keeper Gipson was dressed for the search, but not Gavin. They exchanged brief words and Gipson left as Gavin turned toward her.
“We have decided that just for today, I will stay behind with you. The oncoming crew is due to arrive any minute and I will brief them on the case. When they take over the station, you and I will go to the lighthouse. When the fog lifts, we will be the first to see what it’s hidden.”
Abigail nodded and Gavin directed her to an overstuffed chair in the corner. They discussed where her brother might be, and at noon the new duty section arrived. while Gavin informed them of the situation, Abby paced the main lobby.
“Come on,” he said as he placed his hand at the small of her back, directing her out the door and toward the lighthouse.
Abigail shivered with uncontrollable tremors as they reached the top. Gavin wasn’t sure if it was the cold weather, or fear for her brother, but he had to get her warm. He guided her into the glass covered watch building and shut the door. The bright light from the tower sent intermittent signals for sailors to see in the dense fog. Abigail’s uncle came out of the lighthouse door and made his way to the large bell on the other side of the lighthouse. He would spend the next couple of hours ringing the warning, until a relief from the lifesaving station came and took over for the night.
“Does he know?” Gavin asked.
“No, I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Uncle Charlie’s old and I don’t want to add undue stress until we have an answer.”
“You’ll have to tell him soon.”
“I know, but not just yet.”
If Abigail wanted to hope for something as doubtful as her brother being alive in this storm, then this was definitely the time to do it. It was only two days before Christmas, a time when miracles happened.
He didn’t like seeing her like this. Abigail was always cheery and happy about life, a breath of fresh air. She was the reason he woke up in the morning. She brightened his day with her smile. When her heart ached, his did too.
Her lip began to tremble and he cracked. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and took her in his arms. He pulled her head to his chest and held onto her while she cried, his shirt damp from her tears.
When it seemed she had no more left to cry, he pulled her back with care and looked down into her beautiful eyes. Her tears made them c
rystal blue. Her black hair shimmered in the faint light from the kerosene lamp that lit the building.
“It will be all right Abby. Trust me and the crew,” he said and brushed away a stray tear that floated down her cheek.
Abby took a deep breath to try to calm her emotions. “I trust you more than anything in my life Gav. I’m just scared.”
“I know…me too,” he said. She closed her eyes when he stroked her cheek with the pad of this thumb. His fingers glided against the back of her small neck. “Your skin is so soft.”
Abigail sucked in a deep breath when she realized the caress on the side of her face had stopped being gentle and calm and become a touch of passion and need. Could he really love her as much as she did him? Either way, there was no other way to find out, and somehow this felt like the perfect time to find the answer to her questions.
She reached her hands up, locked them behind his neck and pulled his head down to hers. In less than a breath, his lips were on hers and his hands wrapped around her back and pulled her closer. The heat of their bodies fused, demanding her attention. The gentle force of his lips when he deepened the kiss and lifted her off the ground, touched her soul.
The clanging of the fog bell interrupted the kiss. She stumbled as Gavin eased her back a step. “I’m sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. “You are my best friend’s sister. He may be dead. I never should have done that.”
Abby’s face heated with what could only be a dark pink blush. She had been the first one to make the move, not he. Why would he be sorry? She was the stupid one.
“Let’s go back to the lifesaving station. The rescue crew should be back by now. And if they found him, I’m sure you want to be the first to greet him.”
Abby nodded. He took her hand and guided her through the fog, and to the station. The crew huddled by the large fire, still dressed in their rescue gear. Their faces turned down. Gavin walked up to the crowd while Abby stayed near the passageway. He spoke in whispers to the crew while they examined an object hidden from her view.
The Lighthouse Romance Anthology (The Life Saving Series) Page 4