The Marriage Masquerade

by Erica Vetsch

  A strong tower, a strong tower, astrongtowerastrongtower. “A strong tower.”

  “What’s that?”

  She opened her eyes, barely realizing she’d closed them. Nick eyed her questioningly.

  “I was quoting that Bible verse we read the first Sunday I was here. Proverbs 18:10. ‘The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.’ I’ve read that verse over and over, and I learn something new each day about how God is a strong tower.”

  Water rushed against the hull, slapping, chuckling, taunting her. She stared at Nick’s face, trying to draw strength from him, trying not to let the memories clawing inside her head overtake her.

  Nick looked over his shoulder and up the cliff face to where the lighthouse emerged as they rounded the north end of the island. “That’s a good verse for here.”

  A shout reached them from overhead. Clyde leaned over the rail, waving down to them.

  “He’s a nice boy.” Annie pried her hand from the edge of the seat and dared a quick wave up to him.

  Nick laughed. “He’s older than you are.”

  “Is he? He seems so young.”

  “Tell me about yourself, Annie. I know nothing about you except you love to read and you make a terrific apple pie. Oh, and to steer clear of your oatmeal.” He eyed her with a grin, waiting for her response.

  She made a face at his teasing. What could she say? My name is really Anastasia, and I’ve run away from home? I’m the daughter of a mining tycoon who wants me to marry a complete stranger in order to bolster his fortune?

  She settled for the story she’d told Imogen. It was true, if not complete. “I grew up in Duluth. My father works in mining, in Hibbing mostly. My mother passed away when I was young.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  A hard lump formed in Annie’s throat. “One brother, but he died when I was small. What about you? Any siblings?”

  “Two brothers.” He shrugged. “One older and one a few minutes younger. I’m a twin.”

  “Really? Does he look like you?” She shook her head at the thought. There couldn’t be another man as handsome as Nick Kennedy.

  “Similar, but not identical. He’s back East right now learning a trade.”

  “What about your parents?” She relished this chance to get to know him better.

  “My mother died in childbirth. My father followed not long after in a carriage crash. My brothers and I were raised by my grandparents.”

  “Have you always been in the lighthouse service?”

  He shook his head, looking past her shoulder. “No, but I’ve always worked around or on the lake.” The chop increased, the breeze tugging at his hair. He pulled on the oars, eyes staring far away, watching the water, the cliffs, the sky. He had no fear, completely at ease. “A great day for making good time on the lake. The Jenny Klamath should be almost to Duluth by now.”

  She nodded, not taking her eyes from his face. If only this boat wasn’t so wide she could grip both sides. Her muscles ached with tension.

  Gulls squabbled overhead, diving and hovering, white-gray flashes in the afternoon sunshine. A loon bobbed on the waves near the cliff base. It dived, disappearing from view only to pop up a dozen yards away, lightning fast.

  “There are some mighty big fish that live amongst these rocks. Sturgeon the size of lifeboats.”

  She questioned him with a glance. “Lifeboats?” She didn’t want to think about lifeboats, nor the need for them.

  “Well, maybe not that big. But there are some monsters down there just waiting to be caught.”

  Monsters. “Do you think Captain Dillon will cause trouble? I’ve never seen a man so angry.”

  Nick shrugged. “He might, but it would be risky for him. The passengers and crew can testify that he was stone drunk the night of the wreck. He’ll lose his job if nothing else, and he might even face criminal charges. Getting revenge on me might be the least of his worries.”

  “Was he telling the truth about being the inspector’s brother?”

  Nick grinned. “Who would claim to be Jasper Dillon’s brother if he really wasn’t?”

  Annie surprised herself by laughing. “True. Though I didn’t see any family resemblance, unless you count overall crankiness.”

  They swung around the north side of the island and headed east. The chop increased, small creaming froth appearing on the tops of some of the waves.

  “You all right? No seasickness?” He pulled his feet away from her. “My boots aren’t in danger, are they?”

  Annie shook her head, smiling in spite of the fear. This wasn’t so bad. A strong tower. A strong tower.

  Nick steered them away from the island, covering an expanse of open water.

  Annie caught her first glimpse of the stranded ferry. Several boats dotted the surface around the ship, men striding the decks, throwing ropes to one another, hammering and pounding.

  “They’ve started the repairs. I don’t think it will take them long. She isn’t really wounded as much as just stuck. If they can get her off the rocks without inflicting too much damage, they can tow her in. I see they’ve brought bilge pumps. Maybe they can pump fast enough to compensate for the water she might take on between here and Two Harbors. If she isn’t too badly crippled, they might even tow her to Duluth where they can more easily make the repairs.” Nick swung their boat around to get a better look at the lakeward side of the ferry. “Good thing she’s shallow drafted. An oar boat would’ve ripped wide open on these rocks.” His voice sounded far away and sad, as if recalling events that brought him pain. He shook his head and pulled on the oars again.

  From a distance a faint clanking reached Annie’s ears. The bell buoy. She prayed it wouldn’t take Nick long to make the repairs, though she had to admit, being out here in a boat wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.

  They approached the buoy. Nick whistled. “He hit her square. All she needs is a little hammering to straighten her out. That and a new coat of paint, but we’ll have to wait on that until we get some on the next tender.” Nick shipped his oars, allowing the boat to glide alongside the red and white frame of the buoy. He reached out and grabbed the buoy, halting their forward progress. “Hand me that line, would you, please?”

  Annie glanced down to the pile of rope at her feet. She groped for the end with one hand, frustration clenching her stomach when she couldn’t unwind it properly. She’d have to let go and use both hands. Finger by finger she peeled away from the gunwale. Her heart thudded in her ears. She almost laughed when she realized she was pushing down with her legs, trying to anchor herself more firmly in the boat. The line untwisted, and she handed it to Nick. A rickety breath rushed into her lungs. This wasn’t so bad, was it?

  Then Nick stood up. The boat bucked side to side, a little water slipping in over the edge.

  Annie pitched toward the lake, a shriek erupting from her throat. At the last instant her hands locked onto the seat.

  Nick looked at her over his shoulder, tying the boat to the buoy. “What?” He scanned the water around them. He studied her as he bent to pick up a hammer, sending the boat rocking again.

  “Don’t! Please!” To her shame, sobs bolted out of her throat. She sank to the floor of the boat, still gripping the seat, eyes clamped shut. The sound of water roared in her ears. She imagined it closing over her head, shutting out the world of light and air, imprisoning her within its frigid clasp.

  “What’s all this?” Nick’s warm hands closed over her shoulders.

  She clutched at him, eyes popping open, lungs gulping air in great gasps.

  He knelt in the bottom of the boat, enfolded her in his arms, and stroked her hair. “Annie? What happened? You were doing so well.”

  She gripped his shirtfront. “Don’t stand up. Don’t. You’ll tip us over. Please, don’t stand up.”

  “I won’t.” He held her tight against his chest, letting her cry. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re safe, Annie. I won’t tip the b
oat over. I promise.”

  The bell clanked over and over with the rocking of the boat.

  She sniffed and hiccupped.

  He gallantly pushed a handkerchief into her icy hands.

  She gripped it in her fist as she clung to his shirtfront. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this. I’m so sorry. Please, take me back.”

  “I’m the one who should apologize. I pushed you too hard. We’ll go back now.” He settled her on the seat and picked up his oars. With mighty pulls they surged over the surface of the water.

  Annie couldn’t bear to look at Nick. She had failed. He must think she was an idiot. She was an idiot. One little lurch of the boat and she turned into a quivering mass of hysteria. She bent her head and kept her eyes on her shoe tips until the boat bumped into the dock.

  Nick began to tie the craft off.

  Annie didn’t wait for him to help her. She scrambled onto the planks and all but ran to dry land.

  Hard thuds followed her, and Nick’s hand gripped her elbow. “Annie, wait.”

  Tears of humiliation and guilt ran down her cheeks. “Let me go, please, Nick.”

  “I can’t let you go like this. Tell me what happened out there.”

  “No, I can’t.” She struggled in his grasp, but his grip tightened.

  He gave her a little shake. “Annie, tell me.”

  The truth burst out, though it cost her mightily to voice the words. “My brother died on that lake. And I killed him.”

  His hands fell away from her, and she made her escape, sobs nearly strangling her as she struggled up the steep slope, away from his look of shocked horror.

  Nick stood still for one moment then headed after her. He castigated himself for being so prideful, thinking if he just got her out in a boat she’d be fine, that he could cure her of her fear. When was he going to learn not to be so arrogant?

  He heard her before he saw her. Her dry, rasping sobs pierced his heart. She reached the clearing, panting, shoulders shaking.

  “Annie, stop.”

  She halted, arms stiff at her sides, one hand clutching his handkerchief. Her chin nearly touched her chest. A tear dropped to the ground.

  He couldn’t help it. She looked so forlorn and helpless. He put his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. She smelled of flowers and sunshine, and he didn’t care that someone might see them. He only wanted to take away her hurt or share it somehow.

  “I’m sorry, Annie. I had no idea.” He brushed a kiss across her hair. “Please tell me what happened. I don’t believe for one minute you killed your brother.”

  Contentment settled into his chest when she put her arms around his waist. They stood like that for a long moment, too short a time in his mind, before she pulled back, wiping her eyes with his handkerchief.

  He led her to a fallen log on the edge of the clearing, crouching on one knee before her and keeping hold of her hands. “Tell me, please.”

  “It happened a long time ago, when I was six. Neville was eight. We were visiting friends of my parents who had a house on the lake. There were no other children to play with and nothing to do, so Neville and I ventured down to the shore to throw rocks into the water.” She twisted her fingers together in his grasp, not looking at him. “Go on.”

  Her delicate throat worked as she swallowed and continued. “Father told us to stay off the dock, but we were bored. Neville bet me I couldn’t run to the end of the dock, touch the boat shed, and run back faster than he could.” A wisp of a smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “He was always betting me one thing or another, and I was always trying to prove I was as good as he was. Father never had much time for me, but he doted on Neville. Took him everywhere, treated him like a pet. I guess I always wanted to be as good as Neville so my father would love me, too.” She hiccupped.

  “We raced a couple times. Each time Neville won. I couldn’t bear his taunting, so I challenged him to get into the rowboat tied to the dock. Neither of us could swim, and this was the height of daring, especially considering how furious Father would be if he caught us.” Her voice caught for a moment. Nick released one of her hands to brush several strands of hair off her cheek and tuck them behind her ear. He cupped her cheek and stared into her troubled brown eyes, trying to give her strength.

  “Neville said just getting into the boat would be too easy. He bet me I’d never have the nerve to get in the boat with him and row out a ways. He told me no girl would ever be that brave.”

  She hung her head, but he put his finger under her chin and raised her face to the light. When he opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to go on, she shook her head and rushed on as if now that she’d begun she had to finish the story. “We got in the boat, and Neville untied it. He pushed us away from the dock. I couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. The oars were so big, Neville couldn’t manage them both. He ended up pulling on only one, and we twisted and turned circles, all the while drifting farther and farther away from the dock. I got more and more scared, and I started to cry. I begged Neville to get us to shore. He shouted at me to quit crying and grab the other oar. I tried to, but I knocked it into the water and it floated too far away for me to reach.”

  Her tears flowed freely. Sorrowful memories filled her eyes. She didn’t see Nick at all, it seemed, so focused on the past, only long-ago images filled her mind. “Neville yelled at me, calling me stupid. I suppose if we’d both kept our heads, someone would’ve rescued us, but we panicked. Neville stood up in the boat to try to reach out with his paddle to get back the oar I’d dropped. The boat rocked and flipped over, pitching us both into the lake.”

  She closed her eyes, her hands gripping his in her lap. For long moments she sat perfectly still. His heart ached for her. She roused and looked into his eyes. “I managed to climb onto the upturned boat and cling to it until help came. I called and called for Neville, but he had disappeared. They found him the next day, but they wouldn’t let me see him. I wasn’t even allowed to go to the funeral. My mother went into a decline and passed away not long after. My father has barely spoken to me since. He blames me for Neville’s death, but no more than I blame myself.”

  She disengaged her hands. “So now you know my worst secret, Nick Kennedy. I killed my brother. If I hadn’t been trying to best him, he’d still be alive today.” An empty look came into her eyes, utter defeat.

  He smoothed his palms down her upper arms and gripped her elbows. “Annie Fairfax, what utter nonsense. You were a child. Your brother’s death was an accident. You were no more culpable in his death than I.”

  She shrugged his hands away. “If it wasn’t my fault, then why does my father think it is? Why won’t he talk to me? Why won’t he love me?”

  She rose and tried to brush past him, but he blocked her way. “Grief makes people do strange things. Maybe your father didn’t know how to handle his sorrow. Maybe he didn’t know how to treat a little girl who was also grieving. But Neville’s death wasn’t your fault. It was an accidental drowning. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

  “How?” The cry burst from her throat as if under pressure. “How can I not blame myself? Everyone who has ever loved me has blamed me for his death. My mother, my father, I think even Haze—” Her voice broke on a sob.

  Nick brought her into his arms again. “Annie, those people are wrong. And you’re wrong. Stop punishing yourself. If you don’t, this will eat you alive.” Guilt stabbed him.

  What a hypocrite I am. I’m preaching what I don’t practice. But this is different. I was a grown man, not a little girl trying to outdo her brother. I should’ve known better than to try that harbor run. I should’ve done something different. If I had, my crew would still be alive.

  Annie relaxed in his arms, spent with emotion.

  Nick cradled her against his chest for a moment, then stepped back a half pace. He took her face in his hands, using his thumbs to swipe away the last of her tears. He was all kinds of a fool, but he couldn’t stop himself.
<
br />   The instant Nick’s lips settled on hers, Annie knew she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. Clasped in his arms, sheltered, secure, she gave herself over to the wonder of his kiss. The salty taste of her tears mingled with the sweetness of knowing herself cherished by the man she’d come to care for so deeply. In that instant, she dreamed a thousand dreams, made a thousand plans, let her heart soar.

  With the abruptness of being thrown in the lake, Nick broke the kiss and pushed her from him.

  Annie blinked, stunned. Had she done something wrong?

  His hands fisted at his sides, and his breath came in gasps. Those lips that had so recently caressed hers formed a hard line. He swallowed hard. “My apologies. I had no right to do that. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

  “Nick?” Her hand went out to him. “You don’t need to apologize.”

  He shook his head, staring past her shoulder toward the lighthouse. “You have no idea, Annie. There are things that prevent me from—” He broke off and turned away from her. “I’m sorry.” He strode across the clearing and disappeared into the watch room.

  Annie sank to the fallen log and buried her face in her hands. Great sobs wracked her shoulders, sticking in her throat. She wiped her eyes once more with his handkerchief, noting the bold NNK embroidered in navy blue on the white linen. How could he be so kind and gallant on the one hand, and so cold and distant on the other?

  She had bared her soul, her deepest shameful secret to him, had dared to dream he might be able to look past that and love her anyway; but in the end, she was as alone and unlovable as ever. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  fifteen

  “It’s your turn, Annie.” Clyde twirled his mallet like a baton.

  Annie nodded and bent over her ball. How incongruous, to be playing croquet when the entire world had crashed to bits around her. Imogen and Ezra seemed oblivious, seated on the porch swing, rocking gently, shaded from the Sunday afternoon sun. Against her will, her eyes strayed to Nick. He stood beside the porch, arms crossed, staring past the lighthouse to the waves beyond. In the two days since he’d kissed her and walked away, he hadn’t said a word to her.