She laid her head against the stair above her, shifting as she grew more uncomfortable. There was really no way to relax sitting on these cold metal steps. She sighed wearily. She was so very tired, drained physically as well as emotionally, but it was impossible to rest. For several hours her only respite had been intermittent periods of sleep sitting up against the stairway. The position was just too annoying to allow a restful sleep. Hour after dreary hour passed without any relief.
Dathan came and sat next to her. Reaching out, he pulled her into the crook of his arm while he leaned back against the rail. She lifted her face to his in surprise. When he bent to look at her, his face was mere inches from her own.
“Try to get some sleep,” he told her huskily. “I know it’s not very comfortable, but it’s the best I can do.”
Adrella swallowed hard. “What...what about you?”
“I’m fine. Go to sleep, Adrella.”
Surprisingly, she did.
* * *
Dathan watched Adrella sleep, smiling at her soft snore. He knew she was exhausted, not only from struggling against the storm, but also the overwhelming grief of losing a loved one. As a doctor, he knew that sleep was the best thing for her right now.
He shifted slightly so that he could reach the small Bible he always kept in his back pocket. The book was wet, its pages wrinkled, yet still readable. He carefully handled the sodden pages looking for some form of comfort. The scriptures had never failed him in this capacity and he knew they wouldn’t now.
Carefully flipping the soggy pages, he sought the book of Psalms. In the fifth verse of the thirtieth chapter he found what he was looking for. “For His anger endureth but a moment; in His favor is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
That was something his father had always told him: no matter what happens, there’s always tomorrow.
Even for Mangus that was true. When Mangus next opened his eyes he would begin a new day, a day that would never end.
Sorrow was for those left behind.
He glanced down at Adrella and felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of duty. Mangus had trusted him with his most precious possession. The thought brought a tightness to his throat. What had Mangus seen in him to make Mangus believe so highly in his ability to care for his daughter? Whatever it was, he knew he couldn’t let the man down.
Adrella was nothing much to look at, but she had a heart as big as the gulf. Still, those freckles were rather endearing. His lips curled into a slight smile. And those big green eyes of hers! A man could get lost in those eyes. But heaven help a man when they flashed green fire!
What was he to do? Did caring for her necessarily mean tying himself to her for life? No matter how he tried to justify it, he knew with certainty that he could not turn his back on her. The mantle of responsibility settled heavily across his shoulders. He would care for her as conscientiously as Mangus would have.
He carefully laid the small Bible on the metal stairs to dry and pulled Adrella closer. Before long he nodded off to sleep.
* * *
When Adrella awakened toward morning, she felt much refreshed, although disheveled and dirty. She smiled wryly. There was all that water below her, and still no way to take a proper bath.
She turned her head slightly on Dathan’s chest and found his eyes closed, his mouth slightly parted as he gently snored. Her smile turned into a grin, and she refrained from movement in case she awakened him. She studied his features a long time, noting the firm chin now covered with a day’s growth. The smile slowly slid from her face as her look drifted down to wander over his broad shoulders and then to where his arms lightly encircled her waist. He looked very much as she had always pictured a pirate. She hastily reined in her wayward imaginings.
Suddenly his eyes opened, still fuzzy with sleep, and he was looking directly into her own eyes. It amazed Adrella how fast his eyes went from cloudy with sleep, to razor sharp and fully awake. She sat up, disentangling herself from his hold and pushing her straggly hair from her face. Embarrassed by her thoughts, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
Dathan rose swiftly to his feet, brushing down his clothes. He bent down and picked up a small Bible that was lying on the steps. Adrella knew he was watching her, but she was too shy to look up.
“The wind is slackening off, I think,” he told her. “The water should start to recede soon, then we can get out of here.”
For the first time Adrella wasn’t so certain that she wanted to. It terrified her to think of what she might find beyond this stone fortress. It had become a safe haven over the past day.
She was certain that devastation awaited their return to the outside world. Although she had continually prayed that the floodwaters had not reached the keeper’s house, she had little faith that those prayers had been answered. Frankly, she was beginning to doubt that any of her prayers would be answered.
Dathan held out his hand to her. “If you don’t mind getting a little wet, you can come up to the parapet and get some fresh air.”
Thrilled with the idea, Adrella quickly placed her hand into his. “I’d love some fresh air. What’s a little water anyway?”
Adrella followed Dathan up the metal stairs. When he reached the top, he lifted the hatch door to allow her access to the parapet surrounding the light.
She climbed through the small hole and was immediately hit by pellets of rain, though the droplets no longer stung when they found open skin.
Adrella took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh scent of rain-drenched air. She forced her heart to still its rapid beating, but found it impossible when Dathan came to stand behind her.
Looking out over the gray landscape, it was still hard to see anything beyond several feet, for although they were on the receding side of the hurricane, the rain was torrential. She tried to see past the tower to the keeper’s cottage, but was unable to distinguish anything through the rain and gloom of approaching day.
“Can you see the cottage?” she asked Dathan without turning around.
He leaned over her shoulder, and she was pushed precariously near the railing. Feeling her tense, Dathan took her by the shoulders and moved her out of his way. Her shoulders tingled from the brief contact.
He peered through the falling water for a long time before he finally shook his head regretfully. “I still can’t see a thing.”
They stood together looking out at the receding storm. Another day should see an end to the rain. Neither one said anything, each busy with their own thoughts. Before long they were soaked.
“We’d better get back inside,” Dathan remarked, “before we wind up with pneumonia.”
Adrella was reluctant to return to the stuffy confines of the tower, but she knew he was right. Though the temperatures were still fairly warm, their wet clothing would give them a chill.
“Let’s go into the lamp room,” Dathan told her, leading her to the door that opened into the small chamber. “The heat from the lamp will help dry our clothes.”
The confines of the space were even more claustrophobic than the tower. Never having liked close quarters, Adrella struggled to keep her mind off the tight feeling in her chest. Well she could remember the ship ride from Ireland so many years ago, and the small areas allowed to the passengers. Ever since, she had been unable to breathe inside a tight place.
Still, the air here smelled of burning oil and wax, and while it was not altogether pleasant, it was far better than the dank smell of the sea water in the tower.
Her gaze settled on Dathan as he adjusted the light and polished the lens. He was such an enigma. She found herself wanting to know more about him.
“Dathan,” she asked. “Why do you call yourself a doctor?”
She saw his shoulders tense. “Because I am.”
She considered
him quietly. It was quite obvious that this was something he didn’t wish to discuss. “Are or was?”
At first she thought he wouldn’t answer her, but then he settled an impatient glare upon her. “I was a doctor in the Union army,” he answered stiffly.
Puzzled, Adrella cocked her head and continued to examine him. “How did you come to be a lighthouse keeper then?”
Sighing, Dathan lifted his eyes briefly to the ceiling. Turning, he fixed her with a compelling look. His gaze roved her features briefly.
“I was a doctor up until, and during, the War Between the States.”
Her forehead puckered. “But not now?”
“No, not now.” Picking up a rag, he began to polish an already sparkling lens. “I gave it up.”
There was such finality in his voice that Adrella knew that he wanted to end the conversation, but she found herself more curious than ever.
“Gave it up?”
He pushed his lips outward before turning and fixing her with an eloquent eye. “Let’s just say that I got over the feeling that I needed to help my fellow man.”
She knew she should leave it alone, but she was intrigued. Dathan could quote the scriptures better than most ministers she knew, and she knew he was a godly man. Then how could he not want to help mankind? Something didn’t fit right, like a puzzle missing a few pieces.
Adrella studied him intently, a frown puckering her forehead. “Most people give up on God,” she said quietly, “but you gave up on mankind instead, didn’t you?”
It all made perfect sense to her now. The recent War Between the States had not had as much effect here in Florida as it had in other parts of the country. Still, they had not come out unscathed. They had only this year been allowed back into the Union after the Republicans had gained control of the Florida state government and ratified the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, guaranteeing civil rights.
The war had made a big difference to their way of life in Apalachicola. The blockades, occupation by Union forces—their way of life had been changed, probably forever.
Florida was proud of the fact that of all the Confederate states, only the state capitals of Tallahassee and Austin, Texas hadn’t been captured. Although Tallahassee hadn’t fallen, it too had not been unscathed.
There hadn’t been nearly as much blood shed in Florida as in other parts of the country, but the effects of the war were still there. Those men who left to fight in other parts of the country and then returned to Florida after the war were changed, and often not for the better.
Dathan’s dark-eyed look settled on her once again. His eyes were filled with a pain she couldn’t begin to understand.
“God isn’t responsible for the stupidity of man. I have never blamed Him for the atrocities I saw committed against human beings. Even though people have had the Word of God for eons of time, they still reject the simplicity of His saving grace. His love. All that matters is their petty little differences. Their greed!”
She was surprised at his vehemence. “So you choose to shut yourself off from the rest of the world.”
It was not a question, but he answered her anyway.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I choose to do.”
She wanted to remind him of Jesus’s great commission, to seek and save the lost, but she suddenly found herself unable to argue a theological point. Her own faith had undergone a dramatic restructuring since she arrived on the island. She couldn’t understand the loss of her father, the possibility of being alone for the rest of her life, the destruction she was certain awaited them just beyond that iron door. Nothing made sense anymore.
Seeming to sense some of what she was feeling, Dathan dropped his rag into the pile next to the door.
“I think we’re dry enough, now. Let’s go back to the tower.”
Sighing, she allowed him to help her back into the tower and down the ladder. She curled her nose slightly at the musty smell, but kept her comments to herself. After all, it was not Dathan’s fault that they were stranded here.
Surprisingly, the rain had refreshed Adrella. She felt cleaner than she had since she left her home. If she had a bar of soap, she would march herself back up those stairs and take a proper bath in the rain! Her tangled hair had been softened by the rainwater, and now she settled herself on the steps in the tower and, using her fingers, tried to comb it into some semblance of order.
Dathan sat two steps above her, seeming to watch her ministrations with some interest.
“You have beautiful hair,” he complimented.
Adrella’s fingers grew clumsy under his watchful regard.
“Thank you.”
Silence settled around them, but it was a congenial one. They both had much to think about, but neither one dared to offer their thoughts aloud.
Chapter 4
Adrella watched Dathan wade through the murky water to the iron door. The tight seal of the door had kept the water trapped inside the lighthouse for two long and dreary days after the rain had stopped. Now the water had finally diminished to the bottom of the window, but there was no way for the water below the window to escape except through the entry door.
It took some effort by Dathan to open it, but finally he was able to swing it a crack and the trapped water rushed out and spread over the already drenched sand outside.
Adrella released her breath slowly, thankful to be able to finally leave the safe, but claustrophobic, haven of the tower, but reluctant to see what lay on the other side.
Dathan seemed to have no such compunctions. Without waiting for her, he quickly exited the structure and disappeared from her view.
When Adrella joined him outside, she was unprepared for the sight that met her eyes. There was nothing left of the lightkeeper buildings except pieces of scattered debris and the badly damaged brick chimney of the main house. In fact, the whole island seemed to be littered with wreckage. Tree limbs had been snapped from the surrounding woods and were strewn across their path. It looked like the entire island had been bombed with heavy artillery fire.
“Goodness,” Adrella exclaimed softly. She crossed to where Dathan was standing, his face grim as he studied the area about him. Apparently without thinking, he clasped her hand and pulled her with him.
“Come on. Let’s see if we can find...Mangus.”
Although they searched the island as completely as they could, by the time night began to fall there was no sign of the body. Adrella felt her heart twist painfully, and giving a little sob, she sank to the wet sand.
Sighing, Dathan turned toward her.
“I’m sorry,” he told her softly. “I should have gone back for his body.”
Adrella shook her head. “You couldn’t. You would have been killed.” She lifted sad eyes to his face. “It’s all right, Dathan. I understand. And Da would have, too.”
It was some time before Dathan finally looked her in the eye. There was really nothing more that he could say.
“I need to go check the dock and the boats, but with this much damage, I don’t hold out much hope for either,” he said. “It looks like we might be stranded here for a while. I’ll try to signal someone with the light, but there isn’t a scrap of this wood that isn’t saturated. It will be some time before it’s dry enough to build a signal fire.”
When the meaning of his words finally penetrated her stupor, Adrella quickly got to her feet.
“Surely someone will come looking for us.”
“Sure. When they have the time,” he told her grimly.
Adrella followed his gaze across the sound to the mainland beyond. She sucked in a shocked breath. Even from this distance it was clear to see that the coast had had problems of its own.
“Oh, my!”
Dathan merely nodded. “Come on. Let’s get back to the light tower be
fore it gets too dark to see.” He slapped his neck, grinning wryly. “Well, the mosquitoes are back.”
They moved quickly to outpace the voracious insects, but still they were covered with welts by the time they made the cover of the lighthouse. It took everything Adrella had within her to make herself enter that dark chamber again.
They slogged their way through the mud that had been left behind on the tower floor, finding a perch higher up on the spiral staircase. Dathan dug through the diminishing bag of supplies to get them something to eat. Handing Adrella an apple, he pulled one from the sack for himself.
“Tomorrow I’ll see if we can’t get some game or fish.”
Adrella polished the apple on her sleeve, her mind not fully on what she was doing. “How will you cook it? You said there’s not enough wood for a fire.”
“I didn’t say there wasn’t enough for a fire. I said there wasn’t enough for a signal fire. I have enough crates and such stored around here to get us a fairly good fire going, but I doubt if they will see it on the mainland.”
He dropped down beside her on the stairs, his gaze wandering over her face. His attention made her nervous.
“I know how much you hate being cramped inside the tower,” he told her softly. “If you prefer, we can leave the door open.”
Slapping a mosquito away from her face, she grinned wryly. “And get eaten up by mosquitoes? I think not.”
He shrugged. “They’ll come in anyway through the window, but maybe you’re right.” He rubbed a finger gently over the welts forming on her face. “They sure do seem to have taken a liking to you.”
Feeling her skin tingle beneath his touch, Adrella sucked in a sharp breath and moved quickly away from him. It suddenly occurred to her how she must look, her hair hanging in a straggly mass down her back, her face covered with red welts. She winced inwardly. Even her new clothes were stained beyond repair, and her body odor after having lived five days in the same outfit suddenly made her want to scrub every inch of herself.
There's Always Tomorrow Page 4
