The Lightkeeper's Bride

by Colleen Coble

  “Are you all right, Miss Russell?” he asked.

  She jumped and turned at the sound of his voice. He caught a glimpse of her blue eyes behind her glasses before she snatched off the spectacles. “You startled me.” She shut the door to the safe and locked it. “I believe Jennie is still sleeping.”

  “She is. She barely stirred when I came in.” He watched her thrust a paper into her bag along with her glasses. It was none of his business. He followed her toward the front of the store. “Do you know who lives out by the lighthouse? I saw a fellow in a tweed suit and bowler talking to another man in that cypress grove. The one atop the hill with all those wildflowers?”

  She stopped and turned to face him with a puzzled frown on her face. “No one lives there. It’s part of a conservatory area. The only people I’ve seen there are gardeners.”

  “One might have been a gardener. The other was clearly not.”

  Her expression sharpened to keen interest. “Can you describe him?”

  He grinned. “You really do like to be kept up on everything, don’t you?” When pink touched her cheeks, he held up his hand before she could answer. “Please don’t think I’m being critical. I can see you’re the one I should bring any questions to.”

  “What kinds of questions? And why would you care, Mr. Jesperson? It hardly concerns you. The constable won’t take kindly to interference.”

  “He wouldn’t care for your involvement either,” he pointed out, hiding another smile when she blushed again. The current trend of simpering beauties who were only interested in parties and fripperies made her intelligence rather appealing. Though she barely reached his chest in height, he’d begun to admire the way she barreled through any problem in front of her.

  Whimpering noises came through the doorway. “The baby is awake,” she said, turning on her heel.

  He followed her swishing skirt into the storefront. Jennie had crawled from her makeshift bed and sat in the middle of the floor, rubbing her eyes and working up to a wail. Miss Russell scooped her up and nestled her close. “There, there,” she said.

  The baby quieted, staring at Will with inquisitive eyes. She waved an index finger his way. “Eh, eh?” Jennie said with a question at the end of her nonsensical syllables.

  “That’s Mr. Jesperson,” Miss Russell said.

  “You think she’s really asking who I am?” he asked.

  “Of course. She’s very smart. You can see it in her eyes.”

  Will let the baby grip his finger. “Uncle Will,” he said, touching his chest with his other hand. “I’m Uncle Will. I think I am anyway.”

  “She needs her diaper changed.” Miss Russell pressed her lips together then plopped the baby back on the bedding and dug in the satchel for a fresh square of flannel.

  He watched while she removed the sodden diaper that hung loosely around the baby’s waist. She finished changing the baby and allowed Jennie to stand then toddle over to explore the base of the coatrack. Miss Russell stepped to the window and peered into the empty street.

  “No one is moving about much,” he told her. “I saw quarantine signs on some houses as I passed. I should get Jennie out of the threat of contamination.”

  Her cheeks were pale when she turned back to face him. “Yes, indeed!”

  “Did you reach your mother?”

  “I talked to our maid. Mama was too ill to come to the phone.”

  “Ill?” he asked. “Not smallpox?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “So the doctor said. Our maid forbade me to come home and said she would care for my mother, but my place is with her. I only waited so you could take Jennie. I didn’t want to expose her.”

  “If she’s been quarantined already, you won’t be allowed to enter the home.”

  “Oh dear. I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. Her gaze wandered to the baby, who had managed to pull herself up on the coat stand.

  “Perhaps I could sneak in.”

  “And then what? You’d be sick, too, unable to get out and wondering what was happening on the outside.”

  “My mother needs me.”

  “I have a feeling you’d be a most impatient nurse,” he said.

  Her black lashes lowered to her cheeks as if to mask her feelings. “You don’t even know me.”

  But somehow he did. “I know more than you think. You like to know what’s going on and that indicates you like control. You abhor the unexpected. You can’t make your mother get well any sooner by hovering over her.” Her lids raised to reveal eyes bluer than any he’d ever seen. Like a summer sky just before dusk. A frown crouched between her eyes, and she turned her gaze away. He could tell his assessment had been spot on. And she didn’t like it.

  “Addie and John left today for their trip to Europe. I should telephone Addie’s mother and see if I can stay there. I’ll do that now.” She went to the telephone and rang Central, then asked for the Carrington residence.

  He listened to her instruct the operator to call her friend’s home. From what he gathered from the conversation on this end, the Norths, Lady Carrington’s daughter and son-in-law, had left town just before the disease had broken out, and several servants had already fallen ill at their residence. Jennie crawled to him and pulled herself up on his pants leg. She studied him with alert eyes and lifted her arms.

  “You want me to pick you up?” He lifted her as Miss Russell rang off. “I would assume staying at the Norths’ is not an option?”

  “There is illness at the big house,” she said. “And Lady Carrington has no spare room in her tiny cottage. Besides, I’m still quite determined to sneak home and care for Mama.”

  The phone rang and she jumped. “No one knows I’m here but Lady Carrington.” She picked up the earpiece and held it to her ear. “This is Katie,” she said into the mouthpiece. “Oh, Mr. Daniels, Nell must have told you where I am.” She listened a moment. “I see. I’ll have to get back to you. I’m going to try to get home.” She listened, and her expression fell. “Oh, I see. Very well. Once I arrange for lodging, I’ll call you back.” She rang off and turned toward him with a frown on her face.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “That was Mr. Daniels, owner of the Mercy Falls Telephone Company. With the illness raging through town, he doesn’t want to run the risk of having no operators. He was going to arrange to have a switchboard brought to my house, but he’s informed me that roadblocks are set up to enforce the quarantine. He doesn’t believe I’ll be able to get home. Once I find a place to stay, he’ll make arrangements for a switchboard, and I can work from there instead of going into the telephone building.”

  “Any idea where you could stay?” Will had an idea that just might work.

  “I have other friends. The Fosters would be happy to have me, but they would be most disapproving of having a switchboard set up in their home.”

  There was plenty of room at the lighthouse. He’d barely gotten any sleep this morning. Caring for the child while he worked every night hadn’t been a good situation either. He could use some help with the baby, but he didn’t like admitting he felt inadequate to the task ahead of him. He could hardly ask her to stay at the lighthouse without a chaperone, though. There did not seem to be a respectable answer to the dilemma here.

  “You’re frowning,” she said. “Is something else wrong?”

  “I’m quite exhausted,” he admitted. “After being up all night, a lightkeeper must sleep for a few hours after dawn. Caring for a sick baby has made that difficult. An ideal solution would be for you to stay at the lighthouse, away from the pestilence, and help with Jennie.

  There is adequate room for the switchboard as well.”

  She blushed again. “Without a chaperone? That’s hardly suitable, Mr. Jesperson.”

  “That’s a problem,” he agreed. “One I’m not sure how to solve.”

  She said nothing for a long moment. “I have an idea,” she said finally. “Lady Carrington is alone at her cottage. Her nurse fe
ll ill and has not come in to work, and Mr. Carrington left this morning on a business trip before he realized she would be left alone. The housekeeper was unsure what to do to help. I could ask Lady Carrington to chaperone. Then I could help her and care for the baby as well.”

  “What’s wrong with Lady Carrington?”

  “She is recovering from a fall she took on her horse two weeks ago. Her right arm was sprained, and she needs some assistance in dressing and preparing meals. Very light work.”

  “She has no family to help her?”

  “Her sister Clara lives in town but she went with the Norths’ to help care for Edward on the trip.”

  This young woman was a take-charge sort. He had to admire that. She didn’t wait for his answer but went to the telephone and rang up Central again, repeating her request to be connected to the Carrington residence. He listened to her persuasive tones as she talked to the woman on the other end of the line. He had no doubt she could talk a seaman into buying a house in the desert.

  She hung up the earpiece. “It’s all settled. We shall stop to pick her up on our way out of town. Addie left a few things there I can borrow to wear. I do dislike not caring for my mother though.”

  “You have no choice,” he said.

  “There is always a choice,” she said.

  He smiled. “You can’t control everything, Miss Russell.”

  She thrust out her small, pointed chin. “I can try. In fact, before I agree to this for sure, I want to try to get home.”

  FOURTEEN

  THE BABY PLAYED with the buttons on Mr. Jesperson’s jacket. Katie kept her gaze on the passing scenery of coastal redwoods and hillsides covered in wildflowers. What was going on at home? Not knowing how her mother was doing moment by moment was difficult to deal with. It grated at her, not to be where she was needed most. She’d tried to see her father but had been turned away from the hospital, and then they’d tried three different avenues to get home and she’d been turned back at every one.

  She stole a glance at him from under her lashes. The way he’d put his finger on her need for control unsettled her. He looked down at Jennie and smiled. The love in his gaze left a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach. Not many men would take on a burden like little Jennie so readily. She stole a second glance. She didn’t want to notice his wide shoulders or the unruly black hair that spilled from under his hat and curled at his collar. She needed the security of a stable future. Like she would have with Bart.

  “Lady Carrington lives at the end of this lane,” she said, pointing to a narrow opening between neatly trimmed rhododendrons.

  “Not with the Norths?”

  She shook her head. “The cottage is just a summer home for them.

  Lord Carrington has an estate in England.”

  He guided the horse into the drive. The Carrington cottage came into view. Framed by the overhanging limbs of redwood and hemlock, the quaint cottage had been freshly painted with a coat of cheery yellow with white trim. A small porch held two rocking chairs. It was only a one-bedroom, as different from Lord Carrington’s castle in England as possible. Once the horse stopped in front of the home, Katie handed Jennie to Mr. Jesperson and clambered down without waiting for assistance. Being in Mr. Jesperson’s company had her every nerve tingling with awareness. Holding her skirts in the blustery wind, she hurried up the steps to the front door.

  The door opened and Addie’s mother peeked out. “There you are, Katie. I’m so worried about your mother. Have you heard how she is?” She adjusted the sling on her arm then stepped out to give Katie a quick hug.

  “She was too ill to come to the phone, but our maid seemed confident she would be all right.”

  “I’m sure you’re most distressed. Come in, child. There are some things of Addie’s in the chest that should keep you for a few days.”

  Lady Carrington turned a brilliant smile in the man’s direction. “Your baby has your eyes.”

  The baby squirmed to be let down, but he shifted her to his other shoulder. “I found her abandoned at Miss Bulmer’s residence,” he said. “But I believe she is my niece.”

  Lady Carrington’s smile faded. “Oh dear me, I hope I haven’t offended.”

  “Certainly not,” he said. “Thank you for agreeing to stay with us at the lighthouse. Quite frankly, I find myself out of my element.”

  His confession of misgivings endeared him a bit to Katie. She’d thought his confidence knew no bounds, and from what she’d witnessed, he was most competent. “I shall collect a few things.”

  She left them on the porch and stepped into the cottage. The trunk of clothing was in the bedroom, and she selected several items and layered them in a bag Lady Carrington had evidently left out for her use. Daily laundry might be necessary for a few days, but this situation would be resolved as soon as the epidemic passed. By then she might have figured out her father’s involvement in the ship incident.

  When she returned to the porch, she found Lady Carrington holding Jennie in her lap on the swing while the lightkeeper loaded the buggy with bags. Mr. Jesperson took her bag and his hand grazed hers.

  Her skin felt warm from the contact, and her cheeks responded with heat as well. He retrieved Jennie and strode back to the buggy with Lady Carrington on his heels. Though he offered a hand, Katie clambered into the buckboard by herself, then settled Jennie on her lap when he handed the baby to her. He helped Lady Carrington into the buggy. Katie was glad Lady Carrington was between them.

  Once they were on the road, the baby relaxed against her in sleep and grew heavy, but Katie welcomed the child’s warmth in the chilly wind that whistled through the redwoods. Fingers of fog crept out of the woods and along the ground and sank into the low spots along the road. The buckboard rounded the last curve, and the craggy coastline lay before them. Whitecaps raced to touch the land then ebbed away, leaving behind kelp and seaweed whose odor mingled with that of the salt. Katie filled her lungs with the salty scent. A dim light shone through the fog from the lighthouse perched on the hillside. There were no neighbors. Maybe this wasn’t a grand idea when she knew so little about Mr. Jesperson. And Katie had dragged Lady Carrington in on it as well.

  Mr. Jesperson stared at the lighthouse. “I didn’t leave a gaslight on,” he said. “I wonder if Philip is there?” He flicked the whip above the horse’s ears, and the animal broke into a trot. “I must get to the lighthouse and start the foghorn. This fog rolling in will soon be as thick as gravy.”

  As the horse cantered up the lane to the lighthouse, a bundle of white on a black rock down by the water caught Katie’s attention. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing. She squinted to see through the fog.

  “I’m not sure. Wait here and I’ll check it out.” He stopped the buggy and leaped to the ground.

  Katie wasn’t about to wait behind. She passed the sleeping baby to Lady Carrington, who cradled her awkwardly in one arm, then followed him. The wind whipped Katie’s skirts and she had to grab them to stay modest. The slope was slick with moisture from the fog, but she managed to reach him when he was halfway down to the white rags. Rocks rattled down the slope and she called out to him.

  “Just couldn’t handle not knowing what was happening?” He grinned and held out his hand to help her down the hillside.

  She hated to be laughed at but she reluctantly accepted his assistance. The loose rocks demanded she cling to his warm fingers, and together, they sidled down the slope. As they neared the pile of white cloth, she stopped but still clutched his hand. Her gaze traveled to the heap of fabric on the sand. Swaths of white from the wedding dress lay matted on the rocks. She gasped and clutched his hand more tightly.

  “Miss Russell, what is it?”

  “It’s Eliza . . . she was wearing a wedding dress . . . the last time I spoke with her.” She let out a strangled cry and turned to press her face against the comforting warmth of Mr. Jesperson’s wool jacket.

  Will cradled Katie against his chest. He wasn’t used to
holding a woman. Her hair smelled like some kind of flowers, and her bonnet brushed his chin. When she stepped away, he had to force himself to drop his arms. “Are you sure this dress belongs to Miss Bulmer?”

  She brushed the tears from her face. “I–I don’t know. Not for sure. But she’s missing, and she was wearing a wedding dress the last time I spoke with her.”

  “Does the constable know this?’

  She shook her head. “I didn’t mention it to him. It didn’t seem relevant.”

  He glanced up the hillside to the older woman standing at the front stoop. “I’ll tend to this matter,” he said. “If you would be so kind as to get our little group settled, I’ll make sure there’s no . . .”

  “Body,” she finished for him. The moisture in her blue eyes made them as luminous as the sea. “Poor Eliza.” Her gaze went back to the dress on the rocks. “And poor Jennie.”

  He hadn’t stopped to think of what Miss Bulmer’s possible death would mean for the child. Now what did he do about her? His brother was going to have to bear some responsibility. “I’ll help you up the slope. Could you call the constable? And if my brother is there, ask him to join me, if you would be so kind.”

  She nodded. He assisted her along the slick rocks to the top of the hill then retreated back to the yards of fabric. He studied the tides and the wind then noticed a small island offshore looming out of the wisps of fog. Gauging the distance and the force of the waves, he wondered if Eliza had been dumped on the island and the tide had carried her dress here. He didn’t disturb the dress, but he squatted beside it and looked around in the dim light. The buttons up the back were broken or torn off. He walked quite a ways up the beach but saw nothing more.

  He needed to poke around the island. After all, there was no assurance the constable himself wasn’t involved in the piracy. It wasn’t uncommon for a man sworn to uphold the law to be found breaking it. Footsteps crunched on the sand, and he turned to see his brother striding toward him.