Ayden always rushed about, not wanting to spend much time in the harbor village. He didn’t like to walk the streets and take in all the bustling activity.
“Can’t we take a walk? Let’s go see the schoolhouse and the spooky graveyard. Remember Halloween night and how scared we were when old man Powell’s dogs were after us? And how Heath went off with Clara Roth so we were left alone?”
Ayden thought back for a moment, then insisted we not dilly-dally. “I have many chores to do. There’s no time to reminisce about our childhood.”
“Maybe another day?” I asked optimistically.
“Maybe. Come now, the seas are rough and the tide will be against us. It will take me twice as long to row out to the island as it did to get us here.”
Ayden was always so regimented. He wasn’t a free spirit like me. However, I always knew that about him. Ayden had told me long ago that he wanted to remain a keeper until he was old and gray, and he had no desire to see or do anything else. He didn’t want to travel, explore, or seek new adventures. Ayden’s idea of an adventure was fighting storms and saving sailors from drowning in the unforgiving waters.
That night, after a quiet supper, just Ayden and me (Heath told Ayden earlier he wasn‘t going to join us, and for that I was relieved), before Ayden went up to the lighthouse, I rubbed his shoulders the way Momma used to do for Daddy. Ayden was grateful and commented on how much better he felt. “That should get me through the night. You will come see me soon?” he asked as he buttoned up his shirt.
“I have something to tend to.”
“Oh? Something more important than spending time with me?”
“Don’t make me tell you. It’s a surprise,” I replied and smiled to him.
“Something to do with my birthday coming up?” he questioned with a boyish grin.
“Go on now,” I insisted.
“All right, all right, I’m going,” he chuckled.
I was excited to start on his shirt. I had never sewn one before, but I remembered everything Opal had taught me. I was certain I could do it and do it well.
After the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, I brought down my sewing materials and set up in Daddy’s rocker. Ayden had a nice warm fire going, and I sat close, as the late summer night caused the house to become chilly.
While I worked, I sang some of Momma’s favorite hymns. I wished I knew how to play the piano, and gazed over to it. How long ago it seemed since she was sitting there on the bench, running her delicate hands over the pearl colored keys and singing with the voice that made angels cry. I was told I had a good singing voice, but it could never compare to hers.
I was so preoccupied with my recollections that I accidentally pricked my finger with the sewing needle. I reached into my skirt pocket to retrieve a handkerchief when I felt the letter addressed to Heath that I had all but forgotten about. Using the glow from the fire, I lifted the letter and peered at it, seeing through the milky white envelope. I couldn’t make out the words, as hard as I tried. Next, I checked to see if the seal was loose. It wasn’t. I sat there with the envelope in my hands, contemplating what to do. I knew it was wrong to keep it from Heath, but the thought of opening and reading it was even worse. I was deeply curious, intrigued as to who was writing to him. Was it a friend, a relative? Or was it from Sarah? No, it couldn’t be. She had left him, deserted him at his worst time, and discarded their engagement. How was I to know if I didn’t open it?
I had no right, yet I still couldn’t manage to find the means to give it to Heath. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, I told myself. I was going to put it away in my room, in my drawer, until I decided what to do.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Forget but not forgive
By the time Ayden’s birthday arrived, I managed to complete the shirt, and baked a beautiful chocolate cake, which I served after his favorite meal of fried chicken and dumplings.
At supper, Heath kindly offered to mind the light, and give Ayden the night off. I was surprised at the suggestion. I thought it was too difficult for Heath to exert himself in such physical labor, for his hand was still tightly wrapped and unusable.
“Why, brother, I appreciate the offer, but no thank you,” Ayden said.
I was disappointed, and a fleeting glance from Heath made it clear he had noticed.
“Now, Ayden, think for a moment. When have you had a night off? How many years has it been?” Heath asked, sitting back and wiping his mouth clean. He was beginning to grow a moustache, which I thought made him appear years older.
Ayden didn’t have to think. He had never taken a night off.
“Don’t be a stubborn fool; don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the night; spend time with your wife. That is my birthday gift to you.”
Heath knew how to shock me, whether by antagonism or thoughtfulness. I hadn’t expected Heath would do anything kind that would benefit me. I had no doubt in my mind he hated me - hated me being married to Ayden. Yet he uncharacteristically suggested we be together and properly celebrate Ayden’s birthday.
Ayden reluctantly agreed, barely able to relinquish his position for just one evening, even if it was to be with me.
“Thank you,” I said after the cake was polished off and Ayden had gone to sit in the parlor, where he patiently waited for me to give him his present.
“I didn’t do it for you. Ayden needs a break; he is fanatical about that lighthouse. I figured if you were dangled in front of him like bait, he’d be stupid enough to fall for it.” Fury instantly filled me, and I glared at him, sending the message that I loathed him more than he did me. And without responding, without being drawn into another argument, I strode past him, pushing him aside.
Ayden loved the shirt and praised my effort. He hurried to his room to put it on while Heath stood nearby, close enough that his presence made me quiver. Usually he went back to his quarters, disappearing until the next meal. On this late afternoon, however, he lingered about, waiting for me to crack, taunting me with his scornful stare, challenging me to a fight.
I nervously ignored him as he followed me back into the kitchen. I pretended to be happy. While doing the dishes, I sang and laughed to myself, trying to make Heath believe he was no bother to me. My strategy worked, and Heath left in a huff just as Ayden came back down.
“How do I look?” he asked, spinning around so I could view him at every angle.
“I must say I did a pretty good job.”
“You’re a good seamstress, as well as an amazing cook. You deserve the night off.
“So, what shall we do with our free time?”
“Well, let me think here . . .” he said, tapping his fingers against his chin. He had a twinkle in his eye, a hint of mischief I recognized from when he was a boy. But that dazzling twinkle quickly turned into a fiery blaze as he came to me and began to fondle the buttons on my dress. “I know what I want to do. And after all, it is my birthday, so I should get what I want,” he whispered with his hot breath on my neck, between heated kisses.
I giggled nervously like a schoolgirl, pressured into accepting his advances. His hands were too fast to keep up with, and I tried to fight him off. “Ayden, darling, can’t we go for a walk on the island, or . . .” He stopped me by putting his finger over my lips, hushing me quiet. Then he continued with the buttons until corset was open and his hand was about to slide in over my breasts, when Heath suddenly bolted into the kitchen.
Ayden instantly snatched his hand away and spun around as I hurried to close up my dress. “A sailor has gone overboard!”
Ayden and Heath rushed out with the rope Heath carried and over the bluff. Night was creeping in, and Heath hadn’t lit the wick yet.
“Lillian, take care of the light,” Ayden ordered. “Heath and I will save him. Now hurry!”
In the distance, I expected to hear screams of terror, the horrifying cries for help, the splashing of panic, but I heard none of that as I ran back to the lighthou
se. As fast as I could, I sped up the endless winding stairs until I reached the top, nearly out of breath, and finally got the light working.
The lens rotated and the light beamed out to the water, but I couldn’t spot a vessel anywhere or see the remnants of one. I hurried out to the deck and could barely see Ayden and Heath. What I could see through the now darkness was that they were just standing there.
“What’s happening?”
“He’s gone!” he shouted back. “Gone before we had a chance!”
I continued to stare out into the darkness, hoping to find any sign of a man still clinging to life, perhaps on the floating remains of the ship. The water was calm, the air still - an unlikely backdrop for a ship to sink without warning.
Ayden joined me with a despondent frown on his usually happy face. He was quiet and tended to his duties without realizing I was there. I allowed him to reflect and mourn the incident, but after a few hours of sitting silently watching out into the night, I went to my husband and tried to comfort him. “Sometimes there is little chance, Ayden. There was no warning, no storm, no rough sea to make you aware that a ship might go down.” He was so withdrawn that he didn’t flinch as I stroked his cheek. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is!” he flared and nudged me away. “ I should have never let Heath talk me into taking the night off. He didn’t have the light working!”
“It is all odd and unfortunate, but still not your fault!” I cried.
“She’s right,” Heath said as he stepped into the room. “It’s my fault. I take full blame for the tragedy.”
“Please, just leave me be, both of you,” Ayden said bleakly and proceeded to trim the wicks.
“Darling, can’t you just . . .”
“GO!” he screamed.
I pushed my way past Heath, and flew down the stairs and straight into the house. There was nothing I could say or do to make Ayden feel better. He took full blame and was going to obsess over the tragedy, lose sleep, fail to eat, and push both Heath and me away so he could bury himself in his all-consuming guilt.
Just as I expected, Ayden stayed withdrawn for the next several weeks. He was obsessed with cleaning the lighthouse during the day and tending the light every night. I tried to reason with Ayden, poured on some sweet affection just to pull him out of his despair, but to no avail.
While Ayden stayed far from me, Heath, strangely, came around more often. No longer did he hide away in his little cottage or avoid me when he and I found ourselves in the same place on the island. During our meals alone, he tried to make light talk with me. However, I ignored him. I pretended he wasn’t there. Everything he said I tuned out; every nice gesture went disregarded. His emotional erratic behavior drove me crazy, yet I didn’t let him for one minute see it. When I was certain he wasn’t looking at me, I discreetly glanced his way. His appearance was softer, his eyes less weary and more focused, just the way they used to be.
At meals, I refused to acknowledge his compliments on my cooking, wouldn’t allow him to wash or dry the dishes, even after he offered repeatedly. Finally, after weeks of this, lonely for Ayden and frustrated with Heath always being nearby, exasperated, I lost my temper. It was exactly what he wanted. I watched the smile grow on his face as I raised my voice at him.
“So you can speak,” he said, as I grabbed his empty plate off the table.
“You know perfectly well I can speak! Why is it that you are constantly around? Don’t you have anything better to do then be under my feet?”
His broadening smirk caused me to reach out and instinctively slap him. Without flinching, he sat there, not stunned or angered.
“And why is it that you are determined to torture me? Just go away, Heath.” I choked back my angry tears.
“All right, I’ll go,” he said with just a hint of apology for eliciting such hostility.
As always, when Heath walked away, I felt a heavy burden leave my shoulders, and most of all, I wanted to run to Ayden.
Predictably, he was exhausted, trying to keep his eyes open, almost falling asleep standing watch.
“Ayden?” I said softly. He was startled awake.
“Lillian.”
“You need rest. What good are you to the ships if you’re too tired for a rescue, if it were necessary? Can’t you for once listen to me, your wife? Don’t you think I know how you feel?”
“How can you possibly?”
“My daddy was just as devastated when he lost a man to the sea. And it was his love for Momma that pulled him from the darkest, most hollow place in his mind. She was his light during his darkest hours. Why can’t I be that for you?”
He didn’t say anything, only stared off with bleak eyes into the empty space in his mind until his usually sturdy legs began first to shake, then wobble, and before I had a chance to react, Ayden collapsed down to the floor.
I found Heath walking the shore. “Heath . . . Ayden collapsed!” I said frantically.
I stayed on Heath’s trail as he fetched his doctor’s bag and got to Ayden in record speed. He was still out cold when we got there, his head bleeding from the hard hit to the floor.
Heath carefully but awkwardly tried to lift his head to place a cloth around the wound. I knelt down and lifted Ayden’s head. Heath checked his pupils, then his pulse. “He’s all right. We need to get him to bed. Ayden has passed out from pure exhaustion.”
With Heath’s one good arm and my two, we slowly carried Ayden down from the tower. We were both out of breath when we laid Ayden in bed.
“I will tend to him now,” I said as I brushed Ayden’s hair aside. He slept, peacefully, unaware of the knot on the back of his head.
“I am the doctor,” Heath stated firmly. We were competing to take care of Ayden.
“I am his wife. This is my house. If his condition changes or worsens, I will come for you.” I was adamant, unwavering, and Heath knew it. He objected no more.
I held Ayden’s limp hand in mine and protectively stood over him until my feet ached badly. I took a chair, placed it beside the bed, and continued to care for him all night. Heath was up in the tower minding the light for Ayden, and as dawn approached, a heavy fog rolled in. There were only the two of us, Heath and me. Someone needed to mind the light, the fog signal, and Ayden.
Uncertain if I should leave Ayden, I gazed down at him resting and realized he would want me to give the signal and ring the bell for the out-yonder vessels to hear. “I love you darling. I will be back,” I said. I placed a cold cloth on his head.
For the remainder of the day I stayed in the fog signal house, never taking a break. Heath stayed true to the light. Finally, at nightfall, Ayden woke from his injury, just as the north winds blew in to chase the dense fog away.
He found me half-awake, making my way back to check on him. He was in the doorway, in full uniform, ready to take over his position.
“You need to rest,” I insisted, blocking his exit.
“You and Heath have been up too long. I am better rested. But the lump on the back of my head throbs like mad. I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to do anything right. My overwork has caused you to nearly collapse yourself.” Ayden hugged me tight, and again said he was sorry. Then in a blink of an eye, he was rushing back up to the lighthouse.
Heath came down, exasperated. “What does he think he’s doing?”
“I tried to talk him into resting. He just won’t listen,” I sighed.
“We can’t go on like this, just the three of us.”
“The second keeper is arriving next week.”
“That will certainly change everything,” he replied optimistically.
As if the stars were put in the sky with a secret life message, I attempted to study them that evening and decipher the code. While Ayden obsessed with the lighthouse, as Heath scrutinized everything about me, alone I gazed up at the brilliant, star-filled night and was left overwhelmed with a feeling of infinite wonder.
As the time grew nearer for the arrival of the sec
ond keeper and his family, Ayden focused on bringing enough supplies to the island.
“I have been told they are coming with eight children,” Ayden exclaimed, as he untied the rowboat from the slip. “I have to make sure the second cow has been paid for. And I don’t plan to row it out here the way our fathers did.”
Eight children! It was difficult to imagine. I was frightened at the thought of birthing one baby, let alone eight.
“Will you return for supper?” I asked while he slowly rowed away.
“Long before supper.”
I had loads of chores to do; I had fallen behind in the clothes washing. Heath apparently had the same problem and had my washboard, just when I planned to use it. He briefly glanced at my basket, then continued scrubbing his shirt without comment.
“I have a pile of clothes to wash,” I proclaimed. He maintained a smug grin and continued with what he was doing. “Did you hear me?” I snapped placing my hands on my hips the way Momma used to when she was, on a rare occasion, annoyed with Daddy.
“I heard you loud and clear,” he replied, not removing that awful, sly smirk from his face. What did he gain by continually taunting me? I didn’t understand why that gave him so much pleasure.
I stood unwavering, and if my eyes could throw daggers, they would have. Heath took his time, purposely slowing down the process by working in slow motion. Every muscle in my body tensed up, and my head pounded from the sheer aggravation he caused me. And just when I thought Heath was finished, as I leaned in to take the washboard from him, he quickly jerked it back and declared he had another item of clothing he needed to wash.
“Heath Dalton, I have no time for your childish games! I have washing to do, a house to clean, supper to prepare. You do want supper later, don’t you?”
He lifted his eyes up to me only for a moment, then said mockingly, “You’re ruining my concentration.”
“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? You don’t need to concentrate on washing,” I grumbled and reached down for the washboard. And just as he snatched it back with his only good hand, I lost my balance and toppled into the dirty washbasin. Heath jumped back, then broke out into uncontrollable laughter. My hair was dripping wet, my dress drenched. “This is my only dress! My other needs washing!” I screeched. Heath’s amusement sent me into a rage. I swooped up his wet shirt and flung it at him. I hoped it would sting his face as it flew by. “Now who’s laughing?” I jeered.
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 77
