Wade shrugged, but didn’t supply an answer.
“Oh, come on Wade. Are you still mad at her for the other night?”
“No.” He slumped back in his chair. “I’m mad at her for almost getting you killed.”
“Don’t be a dad-blamed scallywag, Wade. You know damn well it wasn’t her fault. We wouldn’t have been out there in the first place if we’d done a better job searching the ship”
Maybe Peter’s right. Maybe it wasn’t her fault, but his. He seemed to be a bad luck charm for the most important people in his life. First it was Keeper Abbott, and now Peter.
“Holy hell,” Peter said from his bed. “I can see by your face that you blame yourself, again. What happened to me was an accident, nothing more. Blame the wet deck, or the rope, but don’t blame her. Let it go and get on with your life.”
Wade didn’t respond.
“Now, get me that water over there and let me rest in peace. Telling you what you already know gave me a headache.”
The sound of thunder crashed through the halls again. He grabbed the cup and packet of medicine the doctor had left and gave it to his friend.
When Peter finished, he replaced the cup and pouch.
“No need to check up on me. Besides my head, I feel fit as a fiddle. I’ll be rowin’ the surfboat in no time.”
“No you won’t. Not until the doc clears you.”
“Bah, that’s just a formality. The crew needs me more than this bed.”
“That’s an order, Peter, not a request. And the watch will be by every hour to look in on you.”
His friend just waved him away and slouched back into bed.
Wade stood outside and let his head drop against the closed door, then let out a long sigh of relief. His friend pulled through, and Laura’s father was on the mend. What else could he want?
Thunder shook the walls once more.
The loud thud of a chair falling echoed through the hallway, followed by the patter of small feet.
He turned around just as Laura rounded the corner from her father’s room, and ran straight into his arms, to bury her face in his chest.
Unable to hold back any longer, he wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. “What?” He smoothed her hair and tilted her head back to look at him.
“I… I hate thunderstorms, especially when I’m somewhere different. I tried to stay in father’s room, but I just couldn’t.”
“I’ll bet being here doesn’t help.” He gave her a quick squeeze of comfort. “The wooden walls and floors amplify every noise.” She nodded into his shirt. “Come with me. I’ve got just the solution to your problem.”
He guided her through the hall, down the stairs, and into the crew’s mess. “Sit over there.” He pointed to the long table near the galley passageway.
She did as directed, and he went behind the wooden counter that separated the two rooms. He put water on the cook stove to heat and pulled out the rest of what he needed from the back of the cupboard. He couldn’t get what Peter had said out of his mind. Was he right? Could he forgive himself for all that happened in the past? Start fresh and build a life… with Laura?
It took only a few steps to get around the counter and sit in front of her. She still shook from the storm, but she she tried to hide it by wrapping her arms around her midsection. He sat back in his chair. “Peter woke up tonight.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
He gave a half laugh. “You were crying on my shirt.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. When I was young, I used to have nightmares about thunder and lightning. Ever since then, whenever there’s a storm, I get frightened.”
He nodded. “I can see that it would frighten a young child. But you’re with me now, Laura. You don’t have to be scared of anything.”
“I’m not scared when I’m with you.”
The sound of the water boiling brought him out of his seat. He rushed to mix the drink as thunder once again boomed through the station.
When the drink was ready, he brought it in and set it in front of her. She took a careful sip and her face scrunched up in disgust. “What is it?”
“Tea, with a bit of rum.”
She glared good-naturedly at him. “Is this payback?”
He smiled. “No. There’s barely any liquor in there so it won’t get you drunk, but it will calm your nerves.”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug and took another drink.
He watched her mouth pull together for another sip and a hazy memory of her uncle’s garden popped into mind. Although he’d been drugged, he could still remember the feel of her soft body against his as he kissed her. He needed another taste, another touch of her.
“Wade.”
“Yes.” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened. I truly am. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, but can’t you understand my reasons? My father—”
“It’s not your fault Laura, it’s mine.”
“No, it’s not. If anything, it was the seaman who—how did the crew say it?—gun decked the search.”
He eyed her. “What has my crew been telling you?”
The flutter of her lashes caught his attention when she lowered her gaze to the table. “They told me about Keeper Abbot. The reason father was left on the ship, and of your obsession with work.”
“Blasted fools,” he said under his breath.
“Don’t be mad at them; I made them tell me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not really mad.” The table ground into his elbows as he leaned closer to her. “Wait, why do you care about all that? I mean, besides the part about your father.”
“I…” a radiant, pink blush started at the base of her neck and rose up to shade her face. “I like you, Wade.”
His heart beat hard in his chest. His mind blurred. Only this time it was because of her words, not her drugs. “What?”
“I like you, Wade. I have since school. I tried to tell you in the garden, but you must not remember.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before? I mean, before this all happened?” He couldn’t believe he even got the words out, his throat felt so thick.
“Oh Wade.” Emotion started to grow in her voice. “I’ve been waiting for you to approach me. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. But you haven’t. You never so much as looked at me. What was I supposed to do? Throw myself at your feet when I saw you in town? I’ve waited for you, but you never came to court me. Now I look like the biggest idiot in the county.” A scrape of chair legs sounded through the room when she stood and turned to flee.
“Laura.” In a few long strides, he caught her and turned her around. “Is that really how you feel? You care for me?”
She sniffed, and tears rolled down her milky white face. “No. I know you’ll think I’m mad, but I think I love you.”
“I took the position on the island to be near you. Laura. I love you, too. I always have.”
She pulled her face away from his jacket. “Then why didn’t you court me?”
He gave a desperate huff. “You frighten the hell out of me. Not because of anything you’ve done, but because of who you are. Perfection. I didn’t think I could ever be the husband you deserve.”
“Husband?”
“Yes, husband. If you will have me, I want you to be mine—forever. Maybe I could court you. Then someday, preferably someday soon, we can be married.”
She sniffed back the tears. “We could start with the St. Valentine Ball next week.”
“The ball for sweethearts?”
“Yes.”
He glanced at the ceiling and pretended to think it through. “Okay. But at this event… no tea.”
Her laughter rang through the crew’s mess. “No. No tea.”
She smiled, and he pulled her to him for a kiss. He held her tight in his arms. He would never let her go as long as he breathed. Maybe, with her by his side, he c
ould overcome the guilt he felt for the Keeper’s death. Maybe she could be his lifeline to the world.
Burning Light Within
Now a widow, Vanessa has taken on the task of Dry Tortuga Island's lighthouse keeper in place of her late husband. As keeper, "Nessa" rescues those who find trouble in the warm Florida Key waters. When she saves a man from the water, he reignites a passion she thought she'd never feel again. Caleb Thackley—a man from her past who just may have killed her husband. Can he prove his innocence and convince her to let herself love again?
Chapter 1
Florida Keys, 1868
She paced the water’s edge, desperate to do something, but her boat was on the other side of the island. Skirt raised, she ran into the surf as far as she dared. Vanessa watched, helpless from the beach as the body dipped and swayed with the tide. He was too close for the boat to be of use, yet far enough away she couldn’t reach him. The sight of the man floating lifeless in the water caused fear to slide like ice water through her veins. He receded with a wave and drew nearer with each swell rolling toward the shore. Was he dead? Where did he come from? There was something about him...It pulled at her heartstrings and made her want to help—if he was still alive when he reached the beach.
And then…she recognized him.
It seemed forever before Caleb Thackley’s body drew close enough for her to reach out with the boathook and pull him in. He lay face up, which was always a good sign. If he was still alive, then at least he could breathe.
It took all of her strength to haul him through the water and up to the shore. She arranged him so she could assess the extent of his injuries. Her bare feet made imprints in the hot sand surrounding him as she struggled to lay him down on his back.
The only sound she could hear was the lap of the waves on the beach and the plop of her wet skirts as she knelt down to check for life. Her chest brushed his arm when she drew her face close. The spiced scent of his breath tickled her nose and cheek when she brought her face down to his. Her two fingers slid across the skin of his neck to feel the gentle beat of the blood in his veins. His skin was cold, but his heartbeat strong. There was no sign of any injury except a lump on his head.
He was alive.
So now what? How did he get here?
She looked from the man to the lighthouse where she kept the watch. Smoke puffed from the kitchen chimney of the building below the tall structure of the beacon—they didn’t require heat in the islands of Florida, but they did need a fire to cook their food.
Next to the kitchen stood the tall and proud home of the keeper—her home. Attached to her house was the assistant keeper’s quarters, but the lighthouse board had yet to send someone to help her keep watch.
She lurched to her feet and took off up the trail to her house.
“Justin,” she called.
The sound of the axe against wood ceased when she crested the hill and ran to her son. He sat back on his heels and wiped at the sweat running down his twelve-year-old face. He watched as she drew near.
“Quick. Get the stretcher and some line and meet me on the beach.”
The boy ran to do her bidding while she rushed into the house to prepare the spare room for Caleb.
Once outside, she ran down the gentle incline to the beach.
Justin stood over Caleb. He turned when she drew near. “Why’d you take him out, Ma? Just push him back. The sharks’ll take care of him.”
“Justin Christopher Mills!”
“What? He’s an evil man, Ma. The Fort would be better off without him.”
“He’s not evil Justin. Merely…mixed up.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the still body of her one and only enemy, the man responsible for her husband’s death.
“And even if he was, it’s our job to save those in need. Now, help me put him on the stretcher.”
“Fine, but I still think we should push him out.”
With her head, she motioned for him to help. “Let’s take him inside and then we’ll figure out what to do with him.”
She was stronger than most women she knew, but Caleb’s large and powerful frame was almost too much to handle. Her muscles burned when she helped her son pick him up and place him on the stretcher.
“Now we need to drag him up the beach and to the house,” she said, and placed her hands firmly on her hips.
Justin released a long breath and looked down at the stretcher. “Really Ma, he’s not worth it.”
“Hold on to the side of the frame and heave.”
Almost thirty minutes later, Caleb was finally situated in the small guest bed. Justin stripped him down to nothing and arranged him under the covers while she’d waited in the hall. What in heaven’s name was she going to do with him? Although she knew he wasn’t evil, he was deceitful. Why she’d even put forth the effort to rescue him, she couldn’t fathom.
Vanessa placed her hands on her hips and stepped back to watch. The lines of his face were defined but not too severe. The dark shadow of a beard ran along his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. His dark brown hair fell in wisps over his brow. It was longer than her husband’s had been, but the style seemed to suit Caleb.
Whenever she was around him, she couldn’t help but think back to earlier days. Days before she and her husband, Adam, took the position as keepers at the Dry Tortugas lighthouse on Loggerhead Key Island, Florida.
Caleb had been like family to them, visiting frequently and staying over for dinner. The three of them grew up on the mainland, inseparable as children, and it seemed it would remain as such. It wasn’t until Caleb bought the White Pelican Tavern at nearby Fort Jefferson that they started to grow apart. A year later, Adam took the lighthouse keeper position.
The tavern took over Caleb’s life. It demanded everything from him—and more. Some could say the same about the lighthouse. They could say it took over her life as well as her husband’s, but it wasn’t the same. They were saving lives, not tearing them apart with alcohol and sin.
But the tavern wasn’t the reason anger burned within Vanessa every time she saw the roof of the White Pelican over the fort wall across the water. Or why she wanted to cry every time she heard his name.
A few years back, Caleb concocted a scheme to bring drunken tourists to the lighthouse. He had presented the idea to Adam with all the enthusiasm of a little boy. He said it would be ‘families and decent folks who wanted to see the wonder of the lighthouse.’ In reality, it had been drunken soldiers and scandalous women, after hours of overindulgence.
Within an hour after he’d presented the plan, a contract had been drawn up and legally signed. The same contract would be the death of her husband.
“Well Caleb Thackley, I hope you’re comfortable in my good quilt, you sorry excuse for a man. I shoulda’ tossed you to the sharks like Justin wanted.”
“If you’d fed me to the sharks, I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I’ve come for.” Vanessa jumped as Caleb’s voice boomed through the walls of the little room. She glanced over and saw him rise up slightly on the bed.
“You scared me, you…you b’hoy. You ruffian. I thought you were unconscious.” She stepped away from the bed. “I don’t care why you’ve come, I just want you gone.”
“There’s no way I can leave this bed. Not with my head pounding like this.”
“What happened to you anyway?” Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest.
“My skiff got a hole in it. I was bailing the water out and it started to tip. I guess I must have hit my head when I fell.”
“You’re lucky I was walking the beach. Otherwise you would have been supper for the sharks. I ran all the way back to the lighthouse to grab the boathook, just to haul you in.”
“I’m surprised you rescued me. I thought you hated me, Nessa.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why? It’s your name, isn’t it?’
“No. It’s the nickname Adam used to call me, not you. And I loathe you.”
<
br /> “No, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t.”
“What I think is you‘re responsible for Adam’s death. You are the reason he went out that night.” Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she fought hard to hold them back.
“How long are you going to blame me? That was a year ago…Nessa.”
She couldn’t hold back. The sting of tears burned her eyes so she let them fall. “Yes, a year of lonely nights and painful memories. All of which could have been avoided had you stayed on the mainland—like I’d wished.”
“How could I have stayed there when you were here?”
“What do you mean?” she asked between tear-filled breaths.
“Never mind. It’s not important.” Caleb laid his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. “Now, if you don’t mind. I need to sleep a bit.”
He relaxed into the bed, and the sheets rustled with his movement. Although he was her mortal enemy, there was still some part of her that yearned for his touch. She needed to feel wanted and loved again, in a way only Caleb could give.
Even when she was a young girl just out of school, she had loved him. Not like she’d loved Adam, but a different kind of love. A love she’d pushed into to darkest recess of her soul when she realized he had no intention of courting her.
So, she’d married Adam and never looked back. Adam was a good man, always there for her when she needed him.
The love she’d had for Caleb still burned somewhere deep inside, though. She couldn’t deny it, but she could try to ignore it.
“You shouldn’t sleep, you know. What if you have a concussion? I heard some people go to sleep after a head injury and never wake up.”
“Would you cry if I passed away?”
Vanessa pivoted and marched toward the door. “Only because you’d died on my good quilt.” She turned and slammed the door shut as soon as she’d crossed the threshold. Be damned if I ever let my feelings for him control my good sense…again.
Chapter 2
The Lighthouse Romance Anthology (The Life Saving Series) Page 9