Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy

by Roxane Tepfer Sanford

  Ayden resisted my affection knowing I was only giving in to receive something in return.

  “Heath will stay. It will be fine, I promise. I won’t ever let him say or do anything to upset you.” And with that, Ayden went back to staring out into the dark sea, looking for ships in peril, avoiding his wife’s distress signals.

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  Good intent

  We learned what happened to Heath during the celebration early the following morning. To my dismay, it turned from the celebration of our new marriage to Heath’s heroic endeavor. Heath didn’t want Ayden to reveal what had happened, but Ayden felt his story should be told. Ayden was proud of his brother and displeased at my lack of support. “The least you could have done is come out and say goodbye to my parents!”

  “I’m sorry. I explained that I wasn’t feeling well and needed to rest. They understood. Why can’t you?” I moaned.

  “That’s not why. Be honest. You are acting like a little girl . . . a spoiled little girl,” Ayden snapped.

  “Don’t you say that to me! How can you take his side?”

  “That was in the past. Both you and Heath are here to make a fresh start, to put the past behind you. You came to the lighthouse because in your heart you know you’re safe here. You and Heath have more in common than you realize. Now I expect you to get yourself out of bed and put a smile on your beautiful face.”

  I pulled the covers up so only my eyes were exposed and insisted I would not.

  “Lillian, really! Don’t make me pull you out of bed,” he said, his face flushed. I didn’t know if it was from frustration or the thought of pulling the covers off and revealing my nightgown to him.

  I turned over, which caused Ayden to lose his patience. “If you are going to act like a little girl, then I will have to treat you like one,” he said hastily, and threw off the covers.

  “Leave me be, Ayden Dalton!”

  He reached over, pulled me up, and made me stand. He reminded me of Daddy when I was disobeying him.

  “Now get dressed and cook up some breakfast. I don’t stay up all night to have to tend to such nonsense from my wife, of all people.”

  Ayden was serious and appeared very displeased with me. “There are some things I am willing to be patient with. You have wifely obligations and I expect you to fulfill your duties . . . well most of them,” he said more softly. I knew what he was implying and it hurt to know Ayden was unhappy with me, in many ways. It wasn’t my intention not to be a perfect wife, the kind of woman who pleased her man in every way. I struggled with the obligation of an intimate union with my husband and my need to stay far away from all the humiliation of those vulgar deeds.

  I did as Ayden said without giving him any more resistance. He waited, along with Heath, for breakfast. I made eggs and sausage for them and ate only after they were finished. It was odd, just the three of us on the island. I didn’t feel like the woman of the house. Instead, I felt like a thirteen-year-old out-of-place girl around two grown men. It was strange to think that back only a few years ago we were all friends, playing silly games, going to school, and carrying on as if we were brothers and sister. Now here I was, Ayden’s wife, Heath’s sister-in-law, and nothing could have seemed more peculiar to me. And if Heath and Ayden felt the same way, it wasn’t obvious to me. How quickly their brotherly bond was rekindled. The animosity between them was gone. Ayden instantly forgave Heath the minute he learned Heath was the most honorable man who ever walked the earth. The jealousy Ayden possessed for Heath was gone, vanished like a quick, powerful summer storm.

  As soon as their plates were empty, Ayden sauntered off to bed for a few hours while Heath made himself scarce, doing whatever he needed to do to stay far from me. Ayden told him to make himself at home in the third keeper’s dwelling for now, and when the keeper arrived sometime later in the year, Heath would have to move in with us. When he said this to Heath, I noticed him waiting to catch my expression. I knew what he was thinking: when Heath moved in with us, I would have to move into Ayden’s room.

  I didn’t flinch, only continued to clear the plates, grateful when they were both gone, so I could catch my breath.

  Housework and chores around the island never became mundane for me. I enjoyed working at my own pace, free to make decisions about what to do first or last. I made my own schedule as to what day the washing needed to be done, always followed by ironing the next day. Those chores were long and drawn out, the washboard caused my once silky, soft hands to become dry and cracked. My back ached from bending over the tin tub and stretching to hang the heavy clothes on the high line that Daddy hung long ago between the two keeper houses.

  It was easy to keep up inside the house. I swept twice a day, for the sand always had a way of coming straight back in, from the persistent island breeze. I enjoyed preparing and cooking our meals. Even with Heath’s arrival, the dishes were an easy clean and put-away in the cupboard after every meal.

  For the next few days, Heath came only to eat three meals a day, and when he was finished, he took on some simple chores to help Ayden. I watched from inside the kitchen window as Heath would take a tin cup and scoop out the chicken feed with his good hand, then sprinkle it on the ground of the coop for the chickens. His bandaged, paralyzed hand would stay near to his side, and he appeared to have overcome the awkwardness it caused not to be able to use it at all. Heath mastered his handicap by creating ways around things normally one would need two good hands for. Sometimes it took twice the amount of time - like washing and hanging his own clothes, which at times, out of empathy, I considered helping him with. It was difficult to watch him struggle, but I continued to keep my distance and stay out of his affairs. Heath and I took great pains to avoid one another while we puttered around. I made sure I did the wash on days he didn’t.

  Ayden usually slept four hours after breakfast and woke for lunch. Afterwards, he tended to the different buildings, repairing whatever was on the never-ending list. The brutal winters wreaked havoc on our dwellings. Clapboards constantly needed repainting, and shutters were often torn off as the result of fierce seasonal storms.

  On occasion Heath assisted Ayden, and when he did, they got along famously. When the weather was inclement, Heath bunkered down in the small keeper’s house. It was a one-room cottage, the smallest of the homes on the island. It had one door and a window that faced to the north.

  During our meals, Ayden and I sat at the head of the table, while Heath sat to Ayden’s right. The conversations were always light-hearted - the weather, accomplished tasks, and such. No one brought up anything about life when we were children and the fun we had. Ayden’s mind was always on the here and now; he prioritized his thoughts on which way the wind was blowing, how rough the seas were, and when the next storm would have him up all night waiting, watching and wondering if a dangerous rescue would be required. He lived and breathed for the prospect.

  Daddy was never as consumed with the lighthouse as Ayden. Daddy lived and breathed for Momma first. Ayden’s first love would always be the lighthouse, I told myself. It was easy to recognize, for even as a young boy, that’s all he wanted. Ayden was living his dream, while Heath and I had sadly lost a part of ours. Heath was no longer a doctor, something he was born to do. From his weary appearance I perceived there was a deep emptiness in him. However, I was never going to feel sorry for Heath. After all, he had no compassion for me, didn’t have any empathy for the unfortunate events in my life that had taken away my happiness.

  During the next several weeks, the weather was accommodating to carefree nights up in the tower. I stayed with Ayden for the first few hours of the night. Usually I brought shirts to mend, and we talked until I grew tired and he insisted I get some sleep. “The day has been long for you. I see your eyes growing heavy. Go to bed and have sweet dreams,” Ayden said in his deep, husky voice, taking my sewing needle away and kissing my lips lightly.

  “I suppose I am more tired than I realize,�
�� I admitted and stood. “But if a sudden storm arises, you’d best wake me.”

  Ayden smiled widely. “Of course.”

  Before I headed into the house, I needed to use the outhouse. The moon was full and bright enough so I didn’t need a lamp to see my way. The ocean was tranquil and serene, the night very still.

  When I reached the small, narrow structure, I looked over to the shore and noticed Heath. He was standing looking through his telescope! Suddenly I was no longer overwhelmed with sleep and instinctively drifted over to him. I should have known to stay away and not become drawn into an unavoidable clash. Never did I trust my instincts, and I was foolishly led by my blinded emotions.

  I didn’t say anything at first, staying back in the shadows the way I did when I first came to the island. I had followed Heath to the shore where he peered through his telescope - just the way he was doing right at this moment. It could have been nine years earlier, for I felt almost the same desire to watch Heath, while keeping my presence faint.

  While he continued to study the beautiful night sky, I stayed silent; I held my breath, but my heart pounded heavily in my chest, and I believed that hard pounding rhythm shook the ground beneath my feet and exposed my presence.

  “As a boy I used to believe I could someday reach the stars that seemed so obtainable through the telescope, and that anything and everything was possible,” Heath said in a low, husky voice, while keeping his one eye against the scope and the other closed tight. “Now they appear as illusion, a glimmer of light from a long ago star that has long since died out. They really aren’t there; it’s only the powerful beams that continue to travel through space and into our eyes.”

  Oh, how Heath’s emotions mirrored my own. They were just as deep, profound, and overcome with relentless wretchedness. Though we were intuitively drawn to the light, the hope, the decency of the world, we were continually disappointed, disenchanted, and embittered. The similarity frightened me so much, it made me want to flee from my own melancholy. I turned to go; but Heath wasn’t going to let me leave without attacking my integrity and inflicting upon me a deep scar first.

  Heath whirled about, the blue light of the radiant moon illuminating his face, revealing all the anger and resentment he harbored against me. “Is it your intention to seduce Ayden, use your contemptible ways to lure him in, only to destroy him in the end?”

  I was surprised by his sudden outburst, and quickly came to my own defense. “How dare you say that to me?” I objected hotly. “I love Ayden.”

  Heath laughed disdainfully; the idea obviously unbelievable to him. “Is that what you told Richard and Ned and who knows what other men you slept with?”

  I quickly swallowed the hurt he was inflicting upon me and allowed my anger and hatred toward him to rise and take over instead. “That’s right, I said that to them,” I spat, lashing back to inflict a scar on him as well. “I allowed them to take me, love me, use my body, and obtain incredible sexual pleasure until I was done with them, and not before taking all their money first.” I said this with the most exaggerated crudeness I could muster, just so I could shock him, disgust him even more, so maybe he would never speak to me again and would leave me alone for good. “And that’s not all. I fell madly in love with my father, my real father. Warren Stone was his name, and I slept with him, too! Then I killed him, and not long after, became a shameful actress, wearing scant clothing to attract wealthy married men who constantly asked me to become their mistress, though I was too busy pleasing Richard at the time to do so. And I pleased him in every way, I . . .” Heath swiftly lunged for me, grabbing me with his one strong hand, gripping so hard I cried out in pain. I began to sob while he violently shook me and demanded I say no more. “You stay away from me, you understand! Ayden might accept you and forgive your scandalous past, but I won’t! There was a murder, more than one, caused by you!” Heath towered over me as I shuddered in fear, waiting to hear what he was about to reveal. “Richard Parker is sitting in jail, awaiting trial for the murder of Ned Griffin. Rumor around the city is that the murder was brought about by jealousy . . . over their ongoing rivalry for you.”

  I was aghast, horrified at what Heath was telling me. I felt as though I had been kicked in the stomach and needed to sit before I collapsed. It couldn’t be true! Heath was lying just to inflict more pain on me! He must have hated me that much.

  “You’re lying!” I choked.

  “You have left a trail of dead men behind you, and the truth is, I’m afraid for my brother,” Heath added callously. “And, I will make Ayden well aware of what you have been involved with and the tragic occurrences that always seem to unfold around you.”

  All night long, I sat in Daddy’s rocker by the fireplace and stared into the darkness. Ned was murdered, gone, his life taken away by a selfish, egocentric man - Richard Parker. And was it all because of me, as Heath implied? Or was I, as well as Ned Griffin, just another one of Richard’s victims? Was Richard such a beast? Could he have committed such a brutal crime? Was I truly the reason Ned Griffin was dead? I fretfully wondered and speculated all night long, with a sinking, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, until the sun began to creep up over the horizon, and Ayden returned from his nightly duty.

  “Lillian, what are you doing sitting there in your dress? Didn’t you sleep?” Ayden asked as he placed his cap on the mantel.

  “I couldn’t,” I choked.

  He came to me and made me look up at him. “You’ve been crying.”

  “I’m fine, really,” I denied and went to start cooking.

  “It’s nothing, truly,” I lied. “I was only thinking of Daddy. I miss him.”

  Ayden pulled me close, hugged me, then smiled. “I will fix up breakfast for Heath and me. Go rest.”

  I was plagued with guilt. I should have confessed what Heath had told me, but I just couldn’t. I stayed up all night crying and fighting all my fears until the light of day finally drove away all my dark, daunting feelings.

  I wasn’t going to let Heath win. I’d fought my way back to Jasper Island to be free of the chains that bound me to my past. I was not going to give him the power to ruin all that I had managed to obtain. I had Ayden and he loved me, for better or worse. I would do anything not to lose that unconditional, magical love. With Ayden’s devotion, I would stay strong, unyielding, and never let go.

  “Thank you,” I said, and I threw my arms around his neck.

  “Don’t get used to it,” he joked and went to kiss my cheek, but instead of allowing his lips to land on my cheek, I tilted my head, and they fell lightly onto my lips. He was a little surprised at first, though when our kiss became more than mundane, he pressed harder against me, so hard I felt his heart beating madly against my chest. “Wow,” he exclaimed when I finally drew back just so I could catch my breath. His eyes were bedazzled; his hands pulled me back to him. I invited another long kiss, causing Ayden to fire up with passion and excitement. I had lit a burning ember, and feared the lust in his eyes. “Ayden, wait,” I murmured as he went to lift me to carry me to his room.

  “Oh, Lillian, please don’t say no. I need you so badly. Every kiss you give me makes me crazier for you. I feel like a caged animal,” he said, while kissing my neck.

  I gently nudged him away, fearing his anger, yet still unable to proceed with becoming intimate with my husband. There was an underlying, unnerving feeling I had about giving myself to Ayden. I wasn’t sure why I continued to drive a wedge between us, for it wasn’t in my best interest.

  “I thought I was ready,” I shyly confessed. He gave a heavy sigh, resigning himself to my constraint, and went to cook breakfast.

  Upstairs, I collapsed in my bed, cursing myself for playing with fire, and most of all, hating myself for not wanting Ayden. He was extremely handsome, and my body tingled with excitement when he was near me, but a significant part of my mind screamed out for me to stay away, save myself, and show him I could be as pure as the girl he had fallen in love with years befo
re. But what frightened me even more was the small part of my confused mind that often whispered that he wasn’t the man I was in love with - that I was desperately trying to fool myself.

  Ayden and I rowed into the village later that day to collect the mail and shop for a few supplies. It was a once a week excursion I looked forward to, knowing that come winter we would be stuck on the island until spring came and chased away the ice and freezing winds that prevented us from safely reaching the harbor.

  “I have to speak with Lars Goodwin about a kerosene delivery. I’ll meet you at the store,” Ayden said as I waited to enter the small post office.

  “Your birthday is coming up; I want to make you a cake. What kind tickles your fancy?”

  “Any kind you make will be scrumptious. And don’t forget about Heath; he turns twenty-five,” Ayden said before hurrying off.

  I was expected to bake Heath a cake for his birthday! I would do so, but reluctantly.

  The mail was meager, only Ayden’s salary and a letter for Heath. There was no return address but the postage was stamped in Massachusetts.

  “Thank you, Miss Hagen,” I said, allowing her to see me place Heath’s letter in my skirt pocket.

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Dalton. You have a fine day,” she said and merrily waved goodbye.

  Ayden wasn’t at the store when I arrived, so I gave Mr. Makson my list and shopped for some fabric to make a new shirt for Ayden as a present for his birthday. Though he always wore his keeper’s uniform, I hoped to have him take me out to a restaurant when the second keeper came on duty, giving Ayden a night off.

  I had Mr. Makson measure, cut, then packaged the fabric just in time so Ayden wouldn’t see.

  “Did you get everything?” he asked.

  “All but the lard. They are out.”

  “We’ll pick it up next week. Let’s get to the bank, then back to the lighthouse.”