Fiona took advantage of her parents’room and slept on their soft feather mattress, a gift to her mother from her father shortly after they married— meant to make their lives a little less harsh. As a child she remembered saving the goose feathers to restuff the mattress from time to time.
She snuggled deeper into the pillow. She could smell her parents’ scent. Since childhood, snuggling in her parents’ bed, she recalled, was among her most cherished moments. When life got her down, she’d curl up with a book or her thoughts and surrender to the security of their warm, fluffy mattress.
How would she manage alone? But if Ian would become a lighthouse keeper, they could serve together. “Lord, please show Ian I am called to be a keeper of the light like my father. And give him the desire to serve with me. Amen.”
Fiona’s body shook from the lack of rest. Slowly her mind closed itself down, and sleep overcame her.
Last night, after the storm, had been the loneliest of Fiona’s life. Never had she felt so out of sorts. No matter how much she prayed, paced, or cleaned to keep herself busy, it was not enough. Few boats made their way out, and several came in. She watched the pilots go out to the larger boats and bring them through the channel.
New sandbars had emerged from the storm. The inlet had shifting sands, and local pilots were necessary to navigate large vessels. Fiona had been told that the first settlers on the island were pilots and a few fishermen. Now there were more fishermen than pilots, but most worked as both. Ian was one of the few shipbuilders, part of a small but steady island industry. This year she’d watched the launching of the Lodge, a thirty-nine-foot schooner that looked grand on the sea. Her sails filled and she rose up and down, sluicing through the water as if she were one with it.
Ian had been particularly proud that day. The yard used some of his techniques in building the ship. He’d come to America to fill the position, having corresponded with the owner. He loved his homeland, but opportunities for a man to work outside his clan were limited, and his family were farmers, not shipbuilders.
A knot tightened in her stomach. Ian’s talent came from God. It wouldn’t be right to ask a man to give up his God-given talent to work with her. Salt stung her eyes until she released the demanding tears.
“Evenin’, lass.” Ian’s velvety voice cheered her soul.
“Ian?”
“Aye lass, I’ve brung ye…”
Fiona wiped her eyes and turned to face him. He dropped the chickens he’d been carrying and ran up beside her.
“Fiona, are ye all right?”
His eyes examined her from head to toe, looking for an injury of some sort.
“I’m fine. I just miss Mother and Father.”
Ian nodded and stepped back.
“What brought you here tonight?”
Ian looked at his empty hands. The hens were wandering off as fast as their feet could carry them. He groaned and set off chasing them.
Fiona watched with delight this grown man slip and slide trying to capture a silly little bird. He leaped toward one and caught it, coming up completely covered in mud. Fiona burst out laughing.
“Ye could give a man a hand,” he challenged.
“But it is far more pleasant to watch you scurry around in the mud,” she teased.
“I’ll be needin’ to wash me clothes after this.”
Fiona laughed. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had mud splattered in his hair and that he’d be needing a good washing as well.
His eyebrows shot up. “Do tell, lass.”
“You’ll be needing a scrubbing yourself.”
“Aye, I needed that before I came. But I found these chickens, an’ I think they belong to ye.”
“How can anyone tell one chicken from another? They all look the same.”
“Aye, I suppose they do. Do ye know how many ye had before the storm?”
“Six. Father was going to pick up some chicks before the storm.”
Ian carried the single chicken across the yard to the mended coop as Fiona followed. “The men said they’d come by an’ fix yer chicken coop as good as new to thank ye for a safe place to stay durin’ the storm. I’m afraid it will take them a few days. Jacques’s boat was severely damaged. We’ve hauled it over to the shipyard, an’ we’re repairin’ it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know of anyone else who suffered losses?”
“Aye, most of the pilots’ shacks were toppled over. Some were broken beyond repair, though others are repairable.”
“What about yours?” Fiona hoped Ian’s home hadn’t been destroyed. She wished no homes were destroyed.
“We righted it, an’ I’ve repaired it so it won’t leak. I’ll be puttin’ in a bunk bed for one of the men who lost his shack.”
“That’s very kind of you, Ian.”
“Just the neighborly thing to do. What about ye? Did ye go to town?”
“No, I stayed here. Slept what I could yesterday in order to stay awake last night.”
“Aye, that would be best.” Ian looked around. He needed to do something with his hands or else he would break his vow and approach Fiona. When he’d seen she’d been crying he’d fought himself to remain in control, to keep a distance. Physical contact with this woman made his head and heart spin. He’d promised to keep his distance, and he’d broken that already by returning the chickens. Who knew whose chickens they were, and who’d care? But it seemed like a good excuse at the time.
Chickens! He had two when he arrived. Slowly he scanned the area. Where had the other run off to? Spotting it, he ran toward it, praying he wouldn’t land in more mud. He could feel the mud from his earlier tumble caking on his face. He must look a terrible fright. His prey within inches, he swooped down and captured the foolish bird. “Gotcha.”
Fiona applauded.
Ian grinned. “Don’t think you’ll be gettin’ any eggs from these ladies tomorrow. I think they’re a bit unsettled.”
“Of course they’d be unsettled—to have a huge man like you plop down on them, and twice, the poor dears.”
“Poor dears? Ye got to be kiddin’.”
Fiona chuckled and turned toward the house.
Their time had ended. Now he needed to clean up and find a hot bath. A hot sponge bath was probably the best he could muster up.
“Ian, do you need a place to bathe?” Fiona whispered.
“Aye lass. That I do. Would ye be offerin’?”
“Aye, ’tis the least I can do.” Fiona winked. “After all, you returned my chickens. You can bathe by the pump. I’ll put on the hot water and return to the house to give you some privacy.”
Ever-practical Fiona—a man couldn’t help but love a woman like her. At least he couldn’t. Ian fished the tub from the shed and rolled it to the pump. He had always wondered why they had a wall in front of the pump. Now he understood. Of course, it had come down during the storm. Ian didn’t care much for the idea of Fiona being seen bathing… “I’ll fix this right away.”
He worked the pump handle up and down until his tub was two-thirds full. Then he looked around for tools and some wood to repair the wall. Seeing none, he decided to return tomorrow with a couple tall posts. The other boards from the fallen wall were fine. He looked up at the sky. Perhaps he had enough time to go to town and… No, that wouldn’t work. Posts were in high demand. He’d need to repair these temporarily, then when a new shipment of lumber came in, he’d fix them permanently.
“Ian,” Fiona called, “can you lend me a hand carrying the water?”
He ran to the back door. Fiona’s hands were covered with padded mitts as she carried the bucket. Ian followed suit and lifted another bucket. Together they poured the hot water into the tub.
“I’ll fix the wall so ye can bathe,” he offered.
“Thank you. I’m in need of a good scrubbing.”
Ian, for the life of him, couldn’t see a speck of dirt on the woman, and her lilac-scented perfume hardly offended him. To the contrary
, he found it intoxicating.
“I’ll get some of Father’s clothes and a clean towel for you.” Fiona skirted her eyes away from him and scurried back to the house.
Ian unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over the pump. I’ll rinse me clothes in the bathwater after I’m done. He thought of Richard Stemple’s build, his waist, a bit broader than his own. Ian removed his leather belt and set it aside. Next came his mud-caked leather boots.
“Oh, my,” Fiona gasped.
Chapter 5
I an turned, his hands outstretched, and faced her. “What?” he asked, looking around the yard for any possible reason for her concern.
“You’re naked!” Fiona couldn’t stop staring at his broad shoulders and rounded biceps.
“I’m not naked,” he protested. “Me pants are on.” He marched over to the pump and grabbed his soiled shirt.
“I’m sorry, Ian. I’ve not seen a man in such a state for several years. It just…startled me.”
“Aye lass. I understand, an’ ’tis I that am sorry. I should have thought. Ye’ve been raised proper. I’ve been livin’ with men in a common area an’, well—propriety isna a concern. My apologies.”
Fiona timidly stepped closer. He looked so adorable with the mud caked on his face, his brown eyes all the richer, and the small golden flecks seemed to stand out more.
He smiled.
She took another step. Memories of the other night, of the wonder and comfort of being in his arms, flooded her senses. Tentatively, she reached out her hand and touched his forearm.
“Fiona, don’t. I–I…”
How it happened, she didn’t know, but she found herself swallowed up in his embrace. “Oh, Ian, why does this have to be so difficult?”
“Because we’re meant to be together, Fiona. Canna ye feel it?”
“Yes, but…”
“Shh, me love, don’t think. Just relish the moment. We will be married one day, I know it,” he whispered in her ear.
A few moments later, Ian released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry, I shouldna have done that. I told ye I’d wait, Fiona, an’ I will wait. I’ll wait until ye know what I’ve come to know.”
“But…I’m so confused.” Should she give up her dream just for the physical connection between them? Was this love or sinful desires stirring within her? In his arms all thoughts, questions, and worries slipped away. Apart from him, she didn’t understand the attraction. Not to mention, he wasn’t called to be a lighthouse keeper as she.
“Go en the house an’ fix us some dinner, Fiona. I’ll be en shortly.”
Fiona turned and headed back to the house. Why did she follow his orders so easily? This didn’t make sense. When her parents asked her to do something, she tended to do it without question, though she’d wonder why she had to at that very moment. But here Ian had her in his arms for a brief moment, and she obeyed his every command. She’d never given much mind to what anyone else ordered her to do. Even her brothers were furious with her on more than one occasion because she wouldn’t do what they asked. The fact that they asked her to do dumb things might have had something to do with it. But here she was marching into the kitchen to fix a man his dinner. A man whom a few days ago she’d tried to avoid with a passion. Why was she obeying him?
As she rounded the corner of the house, she heard, “Fiona.” Her father stood before her, rigid. Her mother seemed startled.
“Father, Mother, it’s so good to see you.” Fiona looked over her shoulder. Had they seen Ian and her in that embrace? The prickly feeling of heat blushed her cheeks.
Her mother placed her hand lovingly on her father’s forearm. “Richard, I’ll go inside with Fiona. You can speak with the young man in back.”
Fiona groaned. “Father, Ian is taking a bath.” Goodness, that didn’t sound right. “He fell in the mud catching our chickens,” she quickly amended.
Her father released a pent-up breath. “I have no doubt the man may be in need of a bath, but—”
“Richard, not now, let’s give them a chance to speak.”
He nodded and stomped into the house. Her mother put her arm around Fiona. “Come on, dear. Seems more than a hurricane has been happening here.”
Ian had never felt better. Fiona’s growing affection encouraged him. After his bath he put on her father’s clothes and rinsed his own, then went straight to work on fixing the fence that would give Fiona privacy. He splinted the poles and wrapped the splints with some cable he found in the shed. It wouldn’t hold through another storm, but it would stay put until the new lumber arrived. He rinsed and refilled the tub and the two buckets they had heated on the stove for hot water.
He whistled while carrying them to the house. He didn’t knock but marched right in and placed the buckets on the stove. “Fiona,” he called, “I’ve put the buckets on the stove.” Ian walked into the living area where Richard and Mary sat.
“Welcome home…” His words trailed off. Tears stained Fiona’s face. Richard looked like a man about to explode. How long had they been here? Did they…Oh, no, Lord, this is all me fault, he thought, suddenly aware of the embarrassment he’d put Fiona through.
“Richard, I, we…” What could he say?
“I’m not a man given to a temper, son. But what I saw in my own backyard has me hotter than the hottest day in August.”
“Sir, I apologize. I wasna thinkin’ when I took off me shirt to get ready for me bath.” Why had he accepted Fiona’s offer for a bath? Because ye couldna pass up the opportunity to spend more time with her.
“A bare-chested man? Fiona’s seen that before with four older brothers. That isn’t my concern. You had her in your arms, caressing her as—as lovers!” Richard fumed.
“Aye, I had her in me arms, an’ I do love yer daughter. But we’ve shared no more than a few embraces. I’ve been wantin’ to ask for Fiona’s hand in marriage, properlike, but I’ve wanted to buy me own land an’ build a house first.”
“And just how long have you two been carrying on behind our backs?” Richard sent an accusing glance to his daughter.
“Only since the storm,” Ian admitted. “I’ve had an interest in Fiona for a long time, but she’s—”
“Father,” Fiona snapped. “I’ve never been so insulted in all my life. To think my own father would think I’d do something so, so—”
“Richard, calm down,” her mother interrupted. “Fiona, get control of yourself. Ian, take a seat.” Mary stood up. “I see no point in getting everyone upset any further. Richard, we need to talk privately.” She turned toward Ian and Fiona. “We’ll be back in a moment.”
With that, Mary ushered her husband to their room.
“Fiona, I’m so sorry,” Ian whispered.
“It’s my fault as much as yours. I shouldn’t have reached out for you. We both know we are far too attracted to each other.”
“Aye, but that isna a bad thing.”
“I don’t know, Ian. I really don’t know. Just look at the pain it’s caused my parents.”
And what could he say? A proper gentleman wouldn’t have put a woman in such a compromising position. Yet he had.
“Ian,” she continued, “I’m so confused. In your arms I have no worries, no cares, and hardly any sense of what is right and wrong. I think it best that we don’t see each other until I can sort these emotions out.”
“I don’t agree. I think we need to meet, to talk, to have the time for ye to develop an’ understand these feelings.”
Fresh tears flowed down Fiona’s face. “No, Ian, I need time…time alone.”
“All right.” Ian got up and marched to the closed door of her parents’ room. He tapped it lightly.
“Yes?” Mary called out.
“Richard, Mary, I’m leavin’ now. Ye won’t have any more concern regardin’ me and me actions with Fiona. She’s asked for time alone. If ye need me for anythin’, ye know where to find me.
“Good-bye, Fiona. You know where to find me.” Ian nodded, and with
every bit of self-control he could muster, he walked quietly out of the house and down the hill. Once he turned toward Pilot Town, he let out a strangled groan, kicked a clump of dirt, and proceeded to give himself a thorough tongue-lashing. For months he’d exhibited all manner of self-control with Fiona, holding his feelings at bay. Yet today he couldn’t help himself and had taken the woman into his arms. If he hadn’t exercised some restraint he would have kissed her. And with the amount of passion he felt, it wouldn’t have been a chaste kiss. He’d waited months to even approach her, so why did he have to have her now? Why the sudden urgency?
He reckoned some of it had to do with his Scottish blood and the passion with which his people did everything. Aye, I be a passionate person, Lord. Father, forgive me for anythin’ wrong I might have done. An’ show me where I was wrong. Obviously, Richard feels I’ve scorned him, an’ for that I’m sorry. Maybe Fiona is right, Lord. Maybe we do need time apart. But help me to give her the time an’ space. The thought of not seein’ her every day tears at me heart, Lord. Help her, Lord. Give her comfort; give her peace.
Ian’s temper waned as he prayed. He found himself outside his temporary home with Alden waiting for him on the steps. “Evenin’,” Ian greeted his guest.
“Evening, Ian.”
“Let’s get buildin’ that bunk for ye, Alden. The place is too small to have ye sleepin’ on the floor.”
Alden clapped his hands together and got up from his perch on the stairs. “You’re the boss; just tell me what we need to do.”
Grateful for the distraction, Ian went straight to work. His empty stomach grumbled, but the thought of food made his stomach tighten.
Within an hour they had the bunk built. They hung Alden’s saturated mattress to dry. But at least he was off the ground and had a roof over his head.
“So you’ve set your mind on Fiona Stemple?” Alden asked, attempting some small talk.
“Aye.”
Lighthouse Brides Collection Page 4
