Heath finished polishing the lens, then put down the cloth. “First of all, I imagine you as a beautiful bride, no matter how large your belly grows,” he said and placed his hand on the small bump protruding from under my blouse. “You and I will have a lifetime to be husband and wife. I am just as anxious and excited as you are. Please allow me the time to properly earn your love.”
I threw my arms around him and placed my lips upon his, then drew back and smiled. “I can wait as long as you wish, but only if you promise to be mine forever.”
Heath hugged me close, pressing his racing heart against mine, then whispered, “Forever isn’t long enough. I shall love you beyond forever. Beyond the stars and the moon and past the galaxy and until the universe ceases to exist. And if that is forever, then I will be yours until forever.”
It was like living a real fairytale, the kind I dreamt of as a little girl, almost like the fairytale Momma and Daddy had shared. Though Heath was dedicated to his new role as primary keeper under the guidance and supervision of Otto, it was simply a duty for him, while his true passion remained me. As soon as the flame was extinguished, Heath came to me in my room as I woke to the dawn of a new day, and read the beautiful poetry he wrote for me while he worked the light all night long. When he finished reading his eloquent words, Heath crawled beside me and showered me with dozens of gentle kisses before we fell back asleep in each other’s arms.
During long, dark winter nights, when I was well into my second trimester and much of my lethargy had ended, I stayed with Heath and watched as he mastered the light nearly as perfectly as Ayden had. And I knew Heath was only doing it for me, so I could remain on the island I called home. When there were rescues - three that winter - it pained me to watch Heath row out onto the dangerous waters, not only because I feared him capsizing and being swallowed up by a giant wave just the way Ayden had, but because he wasn’t meant to have anything to do with the sea. Heath would always be a doctor, and even though he never showed any interest in returning to the medical field, I continually looked to see if he was hiding even an ounce of regret. Yet as hard and often as I tried, I never saw any.
Otto Moore was a quiet, solitary, elderly man, whose presence was only made known while fulfilling his keeper’s duties, teaching Heath what he needed to learn, and doing simple chores around the island. He never joined us for supper; instead, he took a plate I prepared for him back to his quarters.
One late afternoon, while Heath and I sat cuddled before the cozy fire, I asked him if he knew anything personal about Otto.
“He doesn’t talk much. The only thing I know is long ago he had a wife and child who drowned while returning to their station off the coast of Rhode Island. He didn’t mention any other family.”
“He seems like a lost soul.” I sighed heavily and leaned back into Heath while seriously considering revealing to Heath another lost soul - Victor. I felt his presence back on Jasper Island, even though I had yet to see his apparition. Often there were shadows that lurked in the darkness, noises, and bumps in the night that I only remember happening when Victor was near. I decided not to say anything, fearing Heath’s ridicule. Heath was too practical and realistic to believe in a haunting.
“The baby is doing tumbles tonight.” He chuckled as he laid his warm hands on my large belly he could no longer wrap his arms around. “I think it’s going to be a boy.”
“If so, I hope he has your eyes.”
“And I hope he has your exquisite smile,” Heath added.
I tilted my head back and gazed up at him. The glow from the fire lit up his face as the flames danced in the gleam of his loving eyes. Heath lowered his lips and kissed me, sparking a fire that was difficult for both of us to contain. Heath showed the same yearning and desire each time I was near him. I saw how hard he tried to be a gentleman and wait until we were married before taking me to bed with him. We had both been dreaming of that moment, and stubbornly holding off until our wedding night.
“You are so beautiful,” Heath murmured between hot kisses along my neck. “I want you; I need you.”
“Take me, Heath, and make me yours, I have waited so long,” I whispered into his ear, then trailed my hand down to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one at a time, running my hands through the fine hairs on his chest.
Our union was as passionate and magical as I could have ever wanted. Heath was tender and affectionate. Not one place on my body was left without a hot kiss or gentle caress. Heath calmed my fears of our lovemaking becoming awkward when he guided me on top of him and softly said, “I want to gaze up at you and remember how beautiful you are.”
When it was over, we lay together, laughed, and cried, while happily staring at one another, practically in disbelief. “You are so wonderful,” Heath said, catching his breath. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, it was perfect,” I whispered. I snuggled up against his chest and fell asleep, believing that if you wait long enough, wishes really do come true.
Nearly a week after Heath and I were married by a captain on the bluff of Jasper Island, in front of Edward, Opal, and Elizabeth, on the warmest spring day I could remember, Thomas Ayden Dalton was born. Opal stayed by my side as Heath brought my son into the world. All my fears of childbirth were valid, yet the moment Heath placed the precious newborn baby in my arms, I forgot all about it.
“He has your cleft,” I said to Heath, while he gazed with tear-filled eyes down at us. “And Ayden’s jet black hair.”
“He is perfect,” Heath, said choking back his emotions.
“Congratulations, Lillian. You did a fine job,” Edward said. He kissed me on the cheek.
“Here’s your grandson.”
Opal and Edward stood at the edge of my bed and cradled Thomas, while crying tears of both joy and sadness. I understood their loss, but saw how they looked to Thomas as close to a replacement for Ayden as they could ever have.
Otto came by later that night to see the baby. Heath sent him in after checking to see if I was awake and if it was all right.
“That’s one pretty baby,” Otto said. He handed me a bundle of wild flowers he must have picked near to where Heath and I married.
“Thank you, Otto,” I said wistfully.
Becoming a mother was so profound. It filled me with a pure, overpowering love I never knew existed. This love was different from what I had for Heath, yet just as deep and special.
Otto hovered over the cradle where my baby slept peacefully, studied him for a moment, then walked over to me and handed me a tiny necklace attached to a golden crucifix. “You hang this over the cradle. It will keep him safe from the spirit that roams the island.”
“You’ve seen it!” I gasped.
“On many a night. He’s a good spirit. Don’t mean any harm. Just lost between two worlds. I tell him to go to the light. If you see him, do the same. That’s what I done for my beloved wife Rose. Told her to go to the light and wait for me in heaven. That very evening she vanished for good. I know she’s up there waiting with my baby girl until it’s my time.”
Heath came in with my bowl of soup just as Otto left. He noticed the necklace dangling in my hand.
“What’s that?”
“Otto gave it to me for Thomas.”
“That was a kind gesture,” he said, staring down at it.
Again, I wanted to tell Heath about the ghost, but was too afraid. Instead, I would do as Otto said: I planned to send Victor to the light so he could finally rest in peace. What I didn’t realize - it wasn’t Victor’s ghost that now haunted Jasper Island.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-One
Shattered by rain
While Heath was up in the tower for all the short nights of summer, I was barely able to sleep. In between feeding, burping, and changing Thomas, I would lie awake and listen for the eerie footsteps ascending the stairs, then coming down the hall to stop at our bedroom door. Sometimes the doorknob slowly would turn, sending chills down my spine. On the rare night I wa
s able to drift off, I was awakened by scary shadows that lurked in the dark corners of the room. I tried to call out, tell the spirit to go to the light, but my throat tightened in fear, and all I could do was hold Thomas close and wish the spirit away.
I briefly mentioned my disturbing tales to Opal before she and Edward returned to Hartford. She blamed my delusions on sleep deprivation and the emotional aftereffects of having a baby. “All women go through a strange mental state after a baby. It’s normal. In a few weeks, Thomas will sleep through the night and your mind will catch up on much needed rest.”
Heath noticed the dark circles under my eyes, my pale complexion, and the worry etched into my brow. “You’re exhausted,” Heath said worriedly on a balmy July night as he climbed into bed beside me. “Let me tend to the baby tonight.”
“Would you, Heath?” I said and I began to cry.
“Of course, my darling. When he needs to be fed, I will give him his bottle. You sleep through it, all right?”
I nodded in agreement and wiped the tears away, then fell into his comforting arms.
“I know having a baby isn’t easy. But you are doing a wonderful job; you are a great mother.” Heath continued to talk, but his voice began to grow faint. I was drifting to sleep, feeling protected and safe in his loving arms.
I slept soundly and peacefully for the first time in months and woke feeling refreshed. Heath had the baby in the kitchen with him, feeding him a bottle while stirring the eggs over the stove.
“Good morning, my sweet wife,” he called out, and ushered me to the table. “Eggs? Sausage?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“And after we eat, let’s you and I go for a walk in the village, then have a picnic. Otto said he would look after the baby.”
“Really?” The idea sounded exciting, but at the same time, I wasn‘t certain I wanted to leave Thomas. However, I hadn’t left the island since before delivering Thomas. A leisurely day with Heath was exactly what I needed.
“Yes, really. So eat up, then change. I will put Thomas down in his cradle, then pack us a lunch basket.”
I devoured my breakfast and then went to change. I found my prettiest green dress - one I hadn’t worn since being pregnant, and then styled my long hair under a new matching green bonnet Opal had bought for me. Before I left with Heath, I stopped in and checked on the baby. He was sleeping soundly - so precious and sweet. I quietly stole over and stroked his soft face. I realized how lucky I was. Here I had a healthy, beautiful baby and the husband of my dreams, neither of which I could have ever believed would happen to me.
“Well, look at my gorgeous wife,” Heath grinned, gathered me up, and pulled me close. “Your lovely shape has swiftly returned.”
“I thought you liked my pregnancy belly,” I teased.
Heath blushed. “I did. You know I did. And I want you to carry more babies.”
“How many more?” I frowned.
“Ten!” Heath joked.
“Two more at the most,” I laughed.
“Two it is. But for now, it’s just you and me. Shall we go, my lady?” He tipped his keepers cap, and placed my arm through his.
“Yes, we shall Mr. Dalton.”
Heath surprised me with a long-stemmed red rose that rested on the bench in the rowboat. He always brought me flowers and left them somewhere for me to find. Often there were love poems attached that he wrote while up in the tower. Heath always thought of me, day and night. In the fog, in the rain, through brutal hurricanes, Heath had me in the front of his mind.
I sat as Heath rowed over the sparkling water with the rose lingering close to my nose and my eyes fixed on him. If he wasn’t wearing his keeper’s uniform, I would have thought we were back in time, rowing to school. Only now, he saw me as the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, the one who’d captured his heart and whom he needed to spend the rest of his life with. Oh, how fortunate I was to have Heath as mine. Years of dreaming and waiting, longing and wishing had finally come true. There was never a moment I took his love for granted. I flourished in the warmth of his unreserved love.
When we stepped onto the harbor, Heath asked if I would pick up our mail while he settled our outstanding bill at the store.
“I’m expecting a letter. Promise me you won’t open it,” Heath said. I laughed at first, but when he didn’t change his serious expression, I quickly agreed.
“I won’t, I promise.” I didn’t know what to make of that. Why was Heath receiving a secret letter? I wondered.
I walked swiftly over to the post office and retrieved our pile of mail. Heath’s secret letter was there, along with a letter addressed to me, and after reading the return address, I realized it was from Hazel.
It was the letter I had been dreading. Inside I was certain were the details of Sylvia’s birth - the birth of Ayden’s second child. My hands trembled while holding the envelope. I contemplated opening it, as well as throwing it away. What did it matter to me if Sylvia had Ayden’s son or daughter? I was never going to have anything to do with the child, nor would Thomas. However, the day my baby boy was born, I swore to myself I would never harbor secrets and lies. I wasn’t going to raise Thomas in a world of deception the way I had been raised. He would know the truth about his real father - Ayden, and the man who raised him, whom he called Daddy. As soon as Thomas was old enough to understand, he would be told that Heath was his uncle and raised him as his own because his real father died tragically. I would have to wait until Thomas was much older to divulge the details of his father’s death, but I was going to. Even if that meant he would never look at me the same way and might possibly hate me. It was a risk I planned to take, for not one lie was ever going to burden my life again.
“Was it there? My mail?” Heath asked when he met me at the post office.
I handed it to him and he immediately placed it in his breast pocket, then took my hand and walked with me along the streets of our seaside village. I didn’t show him Hazel’s letter. I wanted to wait until later that day to open it.
When we reached the top of the hill, Heath suggested we picnic at our old school. Because it was midsummer, no one was there, so I willingly agreed. We found ourselves under the same giant oak tree we used to sit beneath when we were schoolchildren. I almost couldn’t believe I was there with Heath. I knelt down on the blanket he’d brought, and stared at him in amazement as he pulled out our apple butter sandwiches from the small wicker basket.
It didn’t seem so long ago that Heath was enamored with Clara Roth. It was with Clara that Heath wanted to spend warm summer days, Clara for whom he’d written poems, and I was certain it was Clara about whom he had dreamed intimately every night. It was still easy to feel those same hurt feelings when remembering how much I longed to have Heath want me as he wanted Clara.
“Why do you have such sad eyes?” Heath asked, catching me deep in thought.
“I was just reflecting,” I replied and forced a smiled, realizing the pain I still carried wasn’t valid any longer and was one of a few burdens I needed to liberate.
“That’s why I wanted us to come here,” he said, taking a long breath of the dewy air.
“To reflect?”
“No, to think ahead, to our future.”
I gazed at him, wanting very much to talk about the wonderful life we planned to share, but all the while knowing I held a letter in my skirt pocket that needed to be read so I could move ahead. I thought about how I was going to be strong and face all the anguish of the past. But the past and the present always seemed ready to collide at any moment, only to crash and burn, leaving me with deep, critical wounds.
“You seem preoccupied. What is wrong?”
I pulled out the letter and handed it to him. He quickly scanned the envelope, then lifted his eyes toward me. We both knew what letter contained.
“Do you want to open it?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m not sure I want to know. A part of me does. And the other part is so afraid.�
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Heath contemplated for a moment, thinking very seriously. I waited with angst for his opinion. Whatever Heath decided was best, I would accept. After all, he only looked out for my best interests and would never waver from that.
“I think you should read it,” he finally said, and handed the letter back to me. “Whatever that letter says, remember that you and I have each other to lean on.”
I smiled through my ambivalence, and ever so slowly read the letter. Heath locked his stare onto me, watching for any sign of distress, waiting on edge for me to reveal what was inside.
I carefully read each word, not once, or twice. I read the letter repeatedly, trying to come to terms with it all.
“What does it say?”
“I can’t believe it . . .”
“Can’t believe what?”
I read the most important part of the letter aloud.
Sylvia, on her death bed, hours before she died after giving birth to a daughter, confessed she had lied about Ayden. He is not the father of the child. It was a seaman she met by the docks who took her. Sylvia wanted me to tell you how sorry she was and took the blame for Ayden’s death to her own grave. James and I are raising the baby we named Leslie as our own on a station off the coast of Charleston. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my troubled daughter and go on with your lives in peace and harmony.
The impact of Hazel’s letter left me unable to breathe, gasping through my sudden bout of wretchedness.
“Calm down, Lillian,” Heath repeated over and over while holding me. He was just as devastated and bewildered, unable to comprehend Ayden’s state of mind the night he committed suicide by rowing out onto the deadly sea.
“Why would he allow us all to believe Sylvia was carrying his child?” I asked.
“Only Ayden can answer that, and he’s gone.”
“It’s so unfair,” I wept.
“You and I are not going to dwell on this. We have come this far, and I won’t let you turn back and start blaming yourself again. I have big plans for you and me,” Heath explained as I clung to him. “In my envelope, I have two ocean liner tickets to England. We are going to go on the honeymoon of our dreams. And our travels won’t end there. Each year we’ll vacation to anywhere you desire, any port of call. And when we are tired of seeing ancient ruins and exploring fabulous romantic hideaways, we’ll come home to our lighthouse.”
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 91
