Lighthouse Brides Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

  She walked to the shore and found a smooth rock to sit on. Tucking her skirts beneath her, she dipped her pen into the inkwell.

  By the grace of God, I will:

  1. Be faithful to Scripture reading and prayers.

  2. Eat regularly, although my stomach twists and turns. Mourning doesn’t mean starving myself. My life is God’s.

  She stared across the rippling water, and for a moment she was mesmerized by the lifting waves. The sun sparkled like jewels, a sight she likened to heaven’s portals. If anything good had come from two months of intense sorrow, it was her closeness to God. Before the accident, she’d simply gone through the motions of prayer and Scripture reading, a habit often filled with regret. But her relationship with God had changed, and now she found His presence comforting. Lynette smiled. She lifted her eyes to the billowy clouds. Mama and Papa were pleased.

  Turning her attention to her task, she wrote number three:

  3. Find a way to provide for myself. I am a fair cook, and I could make a living cooking for others.

  4. Move to the mainland in four months. By then I’ll be able to handle the loss and be myself again. If not, I shall perish or be locked away.

  5. Continue to write letters to Amanda, Mama, and Papa, and send their missives off to sea. Sharing my thoughts is almost like they are here.

  Realization swept over her like a sudden chill. She could never love again. The agony of losing what she treasured most had nearly taken her own life. At times she’d wanted to walk into the waters and join her family.

  But not with George.

  6. Find a way to discover how my family died.

  Lynette had only six things to accomplish before winter set in. Papa always said a plan bathed in prayer was blessed. But none of the items on her list considered a new lighthouse keeper, and the sailors desperately needed a beacon to guide them safely. Lynette swallowed hard. Whether a single man or a family moved to the island, she’d be forced to leave her home.

  At one time she wanted to help George keep the lanterns burning, since Papa could no longer climb the tower to teach her. But her desire to learn was before he and Amanda were married, and her sister was concerned George might seek Lynette’s affections. So Lynette abandoned the idea. Soon after George and Amanda had married, he changed from a gentleman to an evil-tempered brute.

  For a moment, the memories of how he’d abused Amanda and then Papa and Mama made her physically ill. George’s behavior toward Lynette was deplorable, too….Had he really meant well the day he asked for her parents to join him and Amanda on a boat ride while Lynette prepared dinner for them? The truth lay at the bottom of the sea.

  Oh, Amanda, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t I seek out Constable Smythe instead of Uncle Jonathan? Is it really you the mainlanders see? Or is it the killer?

  Whaley’s roar of a bark snatched her attention. A small boat eased toward shore, the oars rhythmically pushing aside the waves. Ah, Uncle Jonathan was coming for a visit. She’d put on the kettle for tea and surprise him with her resolve. Perhaps a bit of conversation would show him that her health was mending.

  Lynette drew in a breath. Someone joined him. Could it be a candidate for a lighthouse keeper? Selfishness rushed over her, although she despised her feelings.

  Not yet. Please.

  Chapter 3

  McNair studied the small island that held the lighthouse. His chest swelled at the thought of being one of the chosen few guardians of the American shores. He longed to explore every inch of the stone structure.

  “I see the excitement in your face,” Mayor Adams said.

  “ ’Tis true. I love the sea, but more so I embrace the calling of helping ships find their way.”

  “We’re proud of our lighthouse. It’s withstood many a perilous storm. Recent renovations have made it sturdy. However, the cistern needs repair. Until that’s completed, I’ll bring water from the mainland.”

  “My father was a seaman, lost in violent wind that capsized his ship.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you married? The life of a lighthouse keeper can be lonely.”

  McNair shook his head. “No wife for me. I’m married to the sea.” He laughed at his own childish prose.

  The Bird Island Lighthouse rose majestically as though challenging the fog, storm, or perilous waters. If only…He stood in the boat.

  “Mr. Hattchery.” The alarm in the mayor’s voice caused McNair to chuckle.

  “I’m aware of my size,” McNair said. “I grew up on the coast of Maine, and I can do the minuet on your boat.”

  Mayor Adams coughed. “Please, sit, sir. I’m a poor swimmer.”

  “But I’m not. Do you want to see me?” He poised one foot over the boat.

  “Sir!” The mayor’s eyes widened, the oars stiff in his hands.

  “What about diving for fish? I did that as a boy. Still do on occasion.”

  “If you lose your bearings and drown, I’d feel responsible.”

  McNair resumed his sitting position and laughed until his sides ached. Despite the situation awaiting him with Miss Brittmore, the thrill of attaining a dream had made him ridiculously happy. “I’m sorry, my good man, but I grew up with six sisters—three older and three younger. Teasing is how I survived.”

  The color in Mayor Adams’s face slowly returned, and the oars dipped into the water. “I’m wondering how you and Lynette will get along.”

  “Why? I certainly wouldn’t want my teasing to run her off.” Well, maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea, since it had worked with some of his sisters.

  “Quite the contrary.” The mayor lifted his chin. “She has a propensity to be rather mischievous.”

  Interesting.

  “I’m afraid her carefree ways were before the tragedy.”

  McNair watched the lighthouse and cottage grow larger. A slender woman waved.

  “Praise God. Miss Lynette hasn’t greeted me for weeks.”

  Was that a monster or a dog beside her? McNair sensed his stomach rising to his throat. The animal stood nearly as tall as she, and his barks sounded like a bear. Indeed an animal to be revered. McNair shivered and longed for Providence’s care.

  Miss Brittmore wore her hair down, flowing in walnut-colored waves. As the boat neared, her smile warmed him, both an agitation and a welcome.

  A once-lighthearted woman with a beast of a dog? Certainly not what he’d anticipated for his new position. Not this creature who appeared part whimsical and part haunting. The young woman with pale skin and blue eyes that rivaled the ocean and sky rendered him speechless.

  He refused to have his fate altered by a woman.

  Lynette’s lips quivered, yet she envisioned her father encouraging her to be brave. Indeed, her heavenly Father promised His helping hand, and she gratefully clung to it.

  “I can do this,” she whispered to Whaley. When the dog rushed toward the boat, challenging the two men inside, she called him back. “Sit at my feet,” she said. Whaley could be ferocious when he thought she was in danger.

  “Good afternoon, Uncle Jonathan,” she said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  His smile spread over hollowed cheeks, and his kindly eyes twinkled. “Good afternoon to you. My, you are a feast for this man’s eyes. I see my child is on her way to good health.”

  “I’m no longer a child, Uncle Jonathan.” Lynette added affection to her childhood name for him, a dear friend of the family. “But I appreciate the concern you’ve shown during the past two months.”

  Mayor Adams took her hand in his. “I would have done even more if I had known how to put color into your face.”

  “I will keep the rosiness just for you. I promise.” She turned to the man beside him, a robust fellow. “You’ve brought a guest.”

  Uncle Jonathan gestured to the man beside him. “Miss Lynette Brittmore, I’d like to introduce Mr. McNair Hattchery.”

  She gazed into eyes that were warm as maple syrup. He lifted his hat and revealed thick hair the same color. He tre
mbled, which surprised her. Ah, Whaley had shaken him to the core.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Hattchery,” she said. “I seldom bite, but sometimes my dog does.” She took his damp hand and laughed, her first expression of happiness in weeks.

  He held onto her hand a little longer than necessary. “That’s excellent information, Miss Brittmore,” he said. “Does your dog—”

  “Whaley. I named him because of his size.”

  He released her hand. “It suits him. I was wondering if he climbs the lighthouse steps.”

  She patted Whaley’s head. “He’s quite agile, sir. He chased away the last gentleman who sought to be a lighthouse keeper. Is that your intention?” She purposely widened her eyes. He was easy to tease. What had gotten into her? Maybe she had gone mad. The lighthouse needed a proper keeper.

  Mr. Hattchery swallowed hard. “I plan to accept Mayor Adams’s generous offer.”

  Fire burned in the pit of her stomach. Her mirth and a glimpse of her old self faded. She swung her attention to Uncle Jonathan. He must have seen her panic, for he touched her arm.

  “You don’t have to move from the island,” Uncle Jonathan said, his tone gentle. “Mr. Hattchery has a marvelous idea, and we want to share it with you.”

  Lynette shook off the trepidation. She’d listen and pray. “I have the kettle on for tea.”

  “Splendid.” Uncle Jonathan held out his arm for her to link into his, and she allowed him to escort her.

  Lynette would not let Mr. Hattchery see her upset when she’d been rude to him moments before. Obviously he’d made a decision that affected her future.

  She didn’t like him.

  She didn’t trust him.

  Chapter 4

  After enjoying a hot cup of tea and feeling thoroughly invigorated, McNair excused himself while Mayor Adams explained the proposed chaperone arrangement to Miss Brittmore. The mayor had an older woman in mind, a godly woman who was highly respected.

  Surely Miss Brittmore would agree to the arrangement in order to keep her home. He was amazed she wanted to live alone when those her own age lived across the harbor. But grief could be a formidable enemy.

  A young woman of Miss Brittmore’s rare beauty would be a treasure to a man seeking a wife. Never had he seen eyes so blue that the sky had to take a step back. But marriage was not in his life plan. An impossibility. He needed to separate himself from her. She had a peculiar effect on him, probably compassion for her plight.

  McNair stood outside the cottage in the afternoon warmth and gazed up at the thirty-one-foot tower. Excitement tickled his belly. With quick strides, he walked across the covered walkway to the lighthouse’s entrance. Like a child at Christmas, he longed to see his own ship of sorts. He’d stay here this evening if propriety allowed, but he must be content in knowing Mayor Adams had his best interests and Miss Brittmore’s at heart.

  Inside the narrow circular stairwell, he climbed until he thought his breath might escape him. When he reached the top, he inspected the lantern, fueled by whale oil. It offered a light that focused on a mirror-like dish, sending a beam out to sea.

  On the catwalk, the stunning sight confirmed the climb was worth the ache in his side. Nothing could be more exquisite than the blending of earth and heaven into one glorious view. He yearned for this postion and prayed the situation with Miss Brittmore proved satisfactory.

  He took a downward glimpse at his middle, and embarrassment convicted him of his sad physical condition. How shameful that he’d allowed his personal appearance to hinder his calling. But that’s what happened when a grown man lived with his mother. He’d studied during the day while his mother practiced her sole purpose in life—cooking for him day and night. And he’d begun to wear her calling.

  With this climb, he’d soon be fit again—

  A bark, more like a roar, startled him. McNair whirled to Whaley who loomed in the doorway. Perhaps the animal was the apparition.

  “Hey, big fellow. I’m a friend.” He hoped his words convinced the dog to leave him alone.

  Whaley took a step closer, his growl more menacing than a thunderstorm.

  McNair looked for something to defend himself. But nothing availed itself to him that wasn’t intact. He’d been warned far too many times that an animal sensed a human’s fear. Whaley voiced his displeasure again. The size of the dog’s teeth would shake the devil.

  Dare he swallow his pride and seek assistance?

  “Help.” His call seemed pitifully weak. Oh, that Miss Brittmore heard him before he became the creature’s dinner. Although he’d just bemoaned his size, this was not how he envisioned reducing it.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m in the tower with the dog, and he’s not pleased.” That had more of an authoritative ring to it.

  He waited for the young woman or Mayor Adams to respond.

  “Miss Brittmore, your dog needs attention. We’re in the tower.” He recalled her teasing and could only imagine what she’d say with his predicament. He’d taken great pleasure in tormenting his sisters, but he didn’t enjoy being the recipient.

  The dog stepped closer. What had he done to offend the beast? “Miss Brittmore? Mayor Adams?”

  A steady clip on the steps indicated deliverance was at hand.

  “Whaley?” Miss Brittmore said in the doorway of the tower. “Are you tormenting our guest?”

  The dog didn’t budge, but he no longer growled.

  Her lithe frame gave her a fairy-like appeal. She glared at her beast. “Down,” she said to the animal. “I’m ashamed of your behavior.”

  Without hesitation, Whaley descended the steps.

  “Thank you.” McNair tugged on his jacket. His pulse had yet to return to normal. “Your dog has taken a dislike to me.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. He’s been protective since Papa gave him to me. More so since I’ve been alone.”

  “I see.” Perhaps she’d discourage the dog to climb the tower’s steps.

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you in the future.”

  McNair’s eyes brightened. Dare he believe? “You and Mayor Adams have come to an agreement?”

  “We have.” She lifted her chin. “He plans to talk to the potential chaperone before the day passes.”

  Relief calmed him. “I’m pleased.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I suggested that he row back to the mainland to tend to the arrangement. If you’d like to stay longer to acquaint yourself with the lighthouse, you can use my boat. You’ll need it to bring your things upon your return.”

  “How kind of you.” Yet he didn’t think her hospitality was heartfelt.

  “The dinner hour is approaching, and you’re welcome to join me. A simple meal, if that is suitable. I’d planned to have eggs, cheese, and bread. Whaley will be subdued, I assure you.” A mischievous sparkle touched her eyes. “Once he makes friends, you’ll find him an enjoyable companion.”

  “Oh, I shall be much too busy to enjoy a pet.”

  She laughed. “Sir, pardon my glee at your expense. I can tell you’re frightened of my sweet dog.”

  “Merely cautious.”

  “Let me make up for your discomfort. Will you join us this evening?”

  How perfect. Maybe he’d misjudged her. Having dinner was more than he’d wished for. Without the dog. “I would be delighted, and I shall be gone by nightfall.”

  She tilted her head, a delightful pose and most fetching. “Have you been warned of the apparition?” she said.

  “It’s nonsense.”

  “Some of the mainlanders are convinced otherwise.”

  “And who do you believe it could be?”

  “My older sister Amanda.” She drew in a breath. “I think.”

  “Why so, instead of your parents?”

  “Those who claim to have seen it believe my sister’s spirit is grieving her life. I, on the other hand, believe her sorrow lies in her demise.”

  He hadn’t heard t
hat part of the story. “Surely her spirit is with God.”

  “She was Christian I assure you.” What did her vagueness mean?

  “Then you’ve noted the mysterious ghost?”

  She smiled. “A troubled mind can have manifestations.”

  “What have you seen?” Curiosity prodded him. “Tell me, so I will understand.”

  “Mr. Hattchery, if you have a chance encounter, we can discuss what evil shrouds the island.” With those words, she nodded her dismissal and left the tower.

  Evil? Whatever did she mean? A nudging in his spirit left him flabbergasted. Had he been too eager to claim the title of lighthouse keeper?

  Chapter 5

  Lynette spooned eggs floating in butter, dotted with pepper and a pinch of salt, onto Mr. Hattchery’s plate. She added thick slices of ham, tender potatoes, and buttered bread baked yesterday. Fresh blueberries and cream would top the meal. She wanted to show him hospitality by making the meal special.

  Being alone with the new lighthouse keeper made her nervous, but Uncle Jonathan trusted him, said he had excellent credentials.

  Mr. Hattchery sat opposite her at the table, the table that held many delightful memories of her family. She handed him his plate of food.

  “Thank you for your graciousness,” he said. “I’m most beholding.”

  “It’s been a while since I prepared food for someone other than myself. It’s not enjoyable to cook for one. But that will change with you and our chaperone living here.” She took a deep breath, amazed she could hold an intelligent conversation without weeping or losing her thoughts.

  “My mother is a fine cook.” He gestured at his middle. “As you can see. I think a few weeks of climbing the tower will put me back to my former size.” He smiled. “However, with meals as fine as this one, my plan may take longer.”

  She met his smile, and in the fading light, his kindly face calmed her. “Would you ask the Lord’s blessing upon our meal and our time together?”

  He did so and appeared at ease, even with Whaley on the floor near him. Mr. Hattchery stuck his fork into the potatoes. A few minutes later, he sighed. “Not since my mother have I tasted such an excellent meal.”