Torchlight

by Lisa T. Bergren

Mike nodded gravely. “I hope—”

  “No, Mike. Let’s not hope anymore. Let’s just wait and see. Let’s wait and see what God and Ben come to.”

  Mike nodded again and then slipped off his barstool. He paused and looked around the empty restaurant. “Do you think you could say a quick prayer with me, Tara? I’m not much good at stuff like that.”

  “Come here,” she said gently. She leaned over the counter and took his hands in her own. “There’s no such thing as a bad prayer, Mike. God hears us, no matter what we say or how we say it. To his ears, it’s all music.”

  “Still, I’d feel better if you said it.”

  She nodded and smiled at him softly. They bowed their heads. And there, in that tiny restaurant, the two prayed that the Almighty would move a man that they could not.

  Julia, Trevor, Emily, and Jake spent the afternoon canvassing the southern coast of Maine, despite the cold turn in the weather. Few others were out on the highway, due to the fog and threat of rain. They talked little, simply thinking how blessed they were to be smelling the sea air; to be seeing the waves and trees and the rough granite cliffs beside them.

  Julia looked over at Trevor, absently watching the scenery speed by, and was especially glad he had survived his rescue of her. Gently she took his hand.

  He looked at her in wonder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Tears unexpectedly welled in his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

  “Hey, at the hospital, you said you wanted to talk.”

  “Yeah. Forget it. It was nothing.”

  The question hung between them. He knew it. She knew it. But neither seemed to have the strength to broach it.

  She looked back out to sea.

  When Jake and Emily left a few days later, Trevor still hadn’t told Julia how he felt. That night, she invited him to join her for dinner and a reading of Anna’s journals. He accepted, slightly dizzy at the thought of being alone with her once more. Work on the house had slowed as Trevor continued rewiring the mansion while helping Julia recuperate. She had spent most of the last week reading Shane’s logs, catching up to where they had left Anna.

  Excitedly she told Trevor that Shane’s first voyage had been a huge success. “He didn’t die at sea! As much as Anna hated to see him go, I was half expecting him to disappear then and there.”

  “Woman’s intuition?”

  “I think there’s something to be said for it.”

  “Me, too. Did Shane eventually die at sea?”

  “I think so. I can’t remember if he died or just never came home from a voyage. I guess we’ll find out. But I’m dreading that part. I can almost feel their love, and I can’t stand for it to end.”

  Trevor looked down at her intently. Julia was inspecting the new wiring in the living room, admiring the clean work. “I’ll see you in an hour,” he said. “I’ll take care of dinner. You stay put.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Too tired to cook himself, Trevor drove to town and picked up lasagna, salad, and French bread at Tara’s restaurant before going back to the main house. He thought of how he’d nearly lost Julia a few days earlier and would probably lose her completely when she agreed to marry Miles. The image of her wet, limp body in his arms, not breathing, haunted him. Could Miles take care of her as well as he? Would he have jumped in after her? Or would he have just called for help, waiting until it was too late?

  Trevor tried to put Miles out of his mind, not wanting to become angry and ruin his evening with Julia. He parked his motorcycle and, grabbing the picnic basket from the back, ran up the stairs. He was startled to see Julia opening the door.

  Her hair hung down in a golden waterfall, and her violet eyes, accentuated by her long lashes, smiled back into his. The bruising and swelling of her face and arms were, for the most part, gone. She wore tights, bunched up at the top of her cast, and a fisherman’s sweater that was long enough to meet the top of the white plaster. Even with the cast, she still managed to look lovely.

  “Come in. You could’ve taken the car, you know,” she said.

  Trevor found his voice. He brushed past her nonchalantly, heading for the kitchen. “I know. I had to get my motorcycle fix. Every once in a while I just feel like taking off. Haven’t been homebound like this for years. It felt good to be out on the road.”

  “I can understand that,” she said quietly. After a pause, she followed him into the kitchen on her crutches. “After all, you’ve just come off a twelve-year odyssey into the world. I’m surprised you don’t feel more claustrophobic than you do.”

  He pulled out the bread, salad, and main course. “I’ve had some serious distractions, so I didn’t really notice. You know, with the house and everything.”

  “I know. The days are flying by. There’s so much to do it seems I just get up, shower, and eat breakfast, and then the next thing I know, it’s time for bed!”

  Trevor reached for some dishes from the cupboard and arranged their meal on two separate plates. “As you can see, I hired Tara for the evening’s dining experience.”

  “A fine choice. Let’s eat in the living room. Then I won’t have to move after dinner. Call me lazy.”

  “Okay, Lazy, grab those crutches and follow me. The living room it is.” Trevor picked up the plates and led the way, choosing to settle into the wing chairs where Julia could put her leg up on the ottoman, beside a roaring fire. They ate and talked, mostly about Jake and Emily and all they had been through before getting married.

  “I miss having them around,” Trevor said.

  “Me, too. They’re good company.”

  “How about updating me on Anna and Shane?”

  “Well, they’ve just moved to Maine. I think the last time you listened, it was three years ago in Anna’s journals. The Courier not only made her first voyage a success, but she also had many more afterward. With the California gold rush in full swing, the need for fast ships around the Cape was at an all-time high. Gramps headed off to Maine to build his own ships after he and Mr. Hammond had a dispute.

  “Anna was worried that Mr. Hammond would just keep building Shane’s designs. But, fortunately, Shane had some improvements in mind. Those ships we saw at the ol’ shipyard turned the shipping industry upside-down. He just kept making faster and faster ships.”

  “What journal are you on?”

  “Number six.”

  “Well, let’s hear some! I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

  “Okay. Can you grab me that brown journal from the table in the library?”

  “On my way.”

  Julia admired Trevor as he went to get the book. He wore jeans and a dark-blue, long-sleeved T-shirt that complemented his muscular build. His motorcycle ride had left him with flushed cheeks, making him look even healthier and more vibrant than usual. She looked away as he returned.

  As soon as Julia had the journal in her hands, she carefully opened it and began to read.

  14 May 1848

  We launch the Donnovan tomorrow! My joy would be complete in this latest creation if old nightmares didn’t still plague my mind. Since the Wave Runner went down last year directly after launching, Shane insists upon captaining the first voyage of each ship. He is convinced that he could have saved the Wave Runner had he been aboard. Any mention of the ship brings horrible memories of watching her go up in flames inexplicably. Those poor sailors jumped, so frantic were they to disembark, as the beautiful ship became a huge fireball. Nearly all hands died.

  With memories like that still fresh in my mind, I cannot find the strength to argue with Shane. I simply want to banish all talk of her and try to forget. It is my recurring nightmare that Shane will be aboard when one of his ships succumbs to a fierce storm, is taken over by pirates, or once again goes up in flames. In my heart of hearts, I believe he would prefer to go down with the ship rather than abandon her.

  15 May 1848

  I must confess this. I wish to be with child for one reason only:
to keep Shane at my side. I have not awakened with such fears in my heart since we launched the courier. I tell myself he survived that; he will come home from this voyage as well, fit as a fiddle. But my heart does not believe. It cries out. I feel my Lord is telling me something, but Shane will not hear me.

  He gave me a present last night, a wool burnoose from Morocco that he picked up on his last trip and has kept hidden. It is beautiful. The cloth is a rich black, the edges trimmed in satin. He placed the cape over my shoulders and set the hood over my head. Lifting my chin, he looked into my eyes. “Wear this and look for me from the cliffs each eve I am gone,” he said. “I will be speeding home to you, unable to think of anything but my beautiful wife awaiting me.”

  I told him of my fears. He said only, “That is why I must have you watching for me, willing me home. God will hear our prayers and reunite us. Do not be afraid.” He left this afternoon, aboard the Donnovan. She is his crowning glory, the most impressive ship he has ever built.

  Trevor cleared his throat nervously. Julia looked up in alarm, never having seen him so ill at ease.

  “Want to hear something very strange?” he asked.

  “Okay …”

  “When I was in Morocco four years ago, I picked up a burnoose that sounds identical to the one Shane gave to Anna.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “I’m not. I’ll be right back.” He hurried out the door and returned, panting, several minutes later.

  Trevor held the cape out to Julia. She gasped. “It is beautiful. I can see why Anna was so excited.”

  “It’s for you.”

  Julia looked up at him, shaking her head. “Oh, Trevor, I can’t accept such a gift from you.”

  “No. You must. I picked it up four years ago with the distinct thought that I would meet the right person to wear it. Who better than you?”

  She could see that there was no changing his mind. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “You’re welcome. When I leave here, it will warm my heart to think of you wearing it above the cliffs, just like Anna.”

  Julia was speechless. The word leaving felt like a sudden punch to her gut, taking her breath away. Struggling for composure, she sought the right words. “So … so you’re thinking about leaving soon?”

  Trevor rose, looking out into the black night and obviously listening to the waves. Crash, swoosh. Crash, swoosh. Crash, swoosh. He stiffened before turning to say, “Well, sure. Can’t stay on forever. Believe it or not, this house will someday be in ship-shape. And with you and Miles marrying this summer, you won’t need me hanging around.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Of course we’ll need you.”

  Trevor heard the “we” distinctly. His heart sank like a rock. She’s made her decision. There’s no hope. He feigned weariness, stretching broadly. “We’ll see how things turn out. In the meantime, I’d better get some shuteye. Thanks for the dinner company. See you tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks for the lasagna. And the burnoose.”

  He disappeared into the night without another word. Grief consumed him. He wanted to get out of the house before she detected his feelings from his expression.

  Julia sat in the chair, staring at the cape and listening to the waves, for a long time after he had gone.

  Miles’s arrival came as a relief to Julia. His presence would force a decision and end her agony of having to choose between him and Trevor. Trevor. She had admitted her feelings to herself at last. But I can’t really choose between a man who is committed to me and one who could disappear at the drop of a hat. Trevor hasn’t said anything to make me believe he’d ever stay. She pushed the memories of his touch and words at the clinic out of her mind.

  Miles walked up behind Julia as she washed dishes at the sink, and he pulled her into his arms. His touch was warm, comforting. “I’ve come to a decision about moving. Have you also come to a decision, my love?”

  His choice of words made Julia wince, and she grabbed another pot to scrub. She forced a smile and looked at Miles calmly. “Getting very close. How ’bout I tell you over dinner?”

  “Fine. Can I help you?”

  “No thanks. I’ve got it.”

  “Should you even be on that leg?”

  “I’m fine, Miles.”

  “Well then, do you mind if I look around at the progress you’ve made?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  While Miles observed the work that had been done downstairs, Ben worked with Trevor in the attic. Fishing had remained fairly stable, but Ben wanted to start picking up extra work before the season ended. Working at Torchlight meant making some extra money to put toward Mike’s college fund.

  Trevor carefully cut a length of thick pink insulation and placed it in between the empty framework of the roof. When it caught on a nail and ripped, he groaned and kicked a beam in irritation.

  “What’s eating you?” Ben asked.

  Trevor paused, then knelt beside his friend. “I’m sorry. I hate working with this stuff, and I’m on edge already.”

  “Beckley’s back, huh?”

  Trevor’s eyes met Ben’s in surprise. The man understood, even though they had never talked about his relationship with Julia.

  Trevor looked at the floor. “It’s eatin’ me alive.”

  “I sort of know what you’re going through. I’m so torn up over Tara I can barely sleep. One part of me wants to go propose to her right now. The other part holds me in place. I don’t ever want to mourn another wife. I couldn’t take it.”

  Trevor placed an encouraging hand on Ben’s shoulder. “So we’re in the same spot, eh? I thought I was the only one too chicken to confess.”

  “Confess?” Miles questioned, his head just rising through the attic door. He climbed all the way up and brushed off his fine suit in distaste. “Now what would you working boys be talking about?”

  He looked directly at Trevor. His eyes held none of the congeniality that his voice bespoke.

  Trevor stood and nodded once. “Beckley,” he said without warmth. He never took his eyes from the newcomer’s.

  Ben stood beside him. Miles looked to him. “Name’s Miles Beckley. And you are?”

  “Ben DeBois.” He held out his hand, and Miles shook it firmly.

  “Well, Ben, I think your friend and I have something to discuss. Would you mind?”

  “I think I’ll go grab a soda. Want one, Trev?”

  “No thanks.”

  Miles and Trevor stared at each other until Ben descended the attic stairs and was out of earshot.

  “Now, Kenbridge. I’m thinking there’s a change in Julia I don’t like. She’s more distant than usual. I believe you might be trying to get between us. And I think I arrived just in time to hear something about you ‘confessing.’ What exactly did you mean?”

  “None of your business.”

  Miles pulled his lips together tightly. “I think it is. Your confession wouldn’t involve my Julia, would it?”

  “Maybe.” Trevor inched toward Miles, silently daring him to make a move.

  “I told you to stay away from her.”

  “And I decided to ignore your advice.”

  “I won’t tolerate any meddling by some lowlife, bloodsucking wanderer. You’re not good enough for her.”

  Trevor laughed without smiling. “And you are? You are the most shallow, superficial loser I’ve ever met. You’ve been away too long, Miles.” He let Miles draw his own conclusions as to his meaning. Given his rival’s jealous nature, he hoped the hook would sink deep.

  It did. Miles’s fist came from nowhere and landed squarely on Trevor’s jaw, sending him flying backward into a bale of insulation.

  Trevor bounced up and went after Miles in a fury. Ducking a wild punch, he landed his own fist to Miles’s gut and then hit him in the face with his knee. He’d learned to defend himself in more than a decade of traveling.

  Miles paused to catch his breath, then came af
ter Trevor again, tackling and throwing him onto the rotten boards. With their combined weight and momentum, the wood gave way, and the two fell through the old plaster ceiling of the northwest bedroom with a great crash.

  They both rolled, coughing after impact and gasping for air in the dust-filled room. Trevor rubbed his shoulder painfully as Miles stood.

  “What is going on?” Julia asked, furious as she looked from the men to the hole in the ceiling.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Miles pointed down at Trevor. “That man implied you two had something going on! Of course I went after him!”

  “You did what?” she asked Trevor.

  He was troubled. How could he explain without implicating her, yet remain truthful? There was something between them. Surely she knew it as well as he did. But he hadn’t meant to force the issue. Miles had just driven him crazy with his superior attitude and ways. Trevor took a deep breath. “I can see why he thought what he did, but I certainly didn’t intend to give him the wrong idea.”

  “What idea did you intend to give him?”

  Trevor swallowed, dreading her reaction. “That you and I had been developing more than a friendship.”

  “There you have it!” Miles said proudly as Ben peeked around the corner.

  “Now wait a minute—,” Trevor began.

  “You actually led my boyfriend to believe that we were having an affair?”

  He stood his ground. “Aren’t we? Of sorts?”

  “What does that make me look like?” she seethed.

  “Well, how do you explain it? How many times have we been close to kissing? It has to have passed through your thoughts too—”

  “I thought you were more honorable than this!”

  “There, you see, darling—”

  “And you! Miles, I thought you were beyond actually getting into a fistfight with someone. You can’t be totally innocent in this. You come here to tell me you’re moving to Boston, and while I’m still digesting the news, you take on my general contractor and break through a bedroom ceiling within fifteen minutes after arriving. I can’t have you around if this is how you act. I need this house repaired, not torn apart.”