Mary Burton

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by The Lightkeepers Woman


  Caleb had tried to protect her.

  “I was willing to let it all go. Then your father produced a mechanic who testified that my crewmen were slack in their duties and that they often stowed flammables in the boiler room.” He met her gaze. “I knew he was lying. My men didn’t take shortcuts. I told the board. I also told them about the shattered glass and how it would be easy to plant a jar full of the stuff near the boiler. Once we hit rough seas, the jar would tip and break and then there’d be a fire.”

  “It was your word against his.”

  “Yes. Until an Intrepid survivor came forward and testified that your father had been on the ship inspecting the boiler just hours before we sailed.”

  She felt sick. “Father would have known men would die if he did such a thing.”

  “At the time I don’t think he thought past the money. Later, I suspect his sins caught up to him.” A cynical smile touched his lips. “Mistakes have a way of coming back to haunt us.”

  Her throat dry, she tried to swallow. “He never received any money from the insurance company.”

  “There was enough doubt for the company to renege on the claim. And his attorney argued there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him of murder. The inquest agreed. I knew differently.”

  She pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temple. “You were the one that was sanctioned.”

  “A captain who loses his ship is not fit to sail the seas again.”

  “The sea was your life.”

  Sadness clouded his eyes. “I was the captain so I was responsible.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “I should have been more careful. I should have added extra inspections. There had to have been something I could have done to prevent the accident.”

  Suddenly, she realized the weight he must have borne. A ship of his own had been a dream since he was a child. He’d been abandoned by the world. And her. “Why break into Father’s safe?”

  “After you refused to see me, all I had left was duty to my lost men. I owed it to them to discover why your father had done what he’d done. So I broke into his safe.” He looked tired, drawn suddenly. “When I saw the note all the pieces fell into place.”

  Alanna felt her head spinning. There had to be greater powers at work. She couldn’t believe that her world had crumbled because of her father’s greed.

  Savagely she wiped away a tear.

  Silence stretched between them. Outside the rain pelted on the windowpanes and the wind howled. “Why weren’t you there for me at the inquest, Alanna? I needed you sitting behind me.”

  She tried to straighten her shoulders, but they felt unbearably heavy. She could have told him about the baby and her illness, but if he knew of this connection they’d shared, she feared he’d never let her go when all she wanted was to flee this place. She wanted to forget about all the heartache and pain and return to the safety of Henry’s arms. He would protect her. In Henry’s arms, she could forget the past completely.

  “It doesn’t matter why I wasn’t there.” She straightened her shoulders. “I should have stayed away as you’d first asked. I will leave you to your lighthouse and your island. Open my father’s box or not. I don’t care anymore. I will leave you in peace.”

  Turning, she walked toward the door and reached for the knob.

  His deep, raspy voice stopped her. “Do you love Henry?” Bitter resentment tainted his words.

  She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “He is a good man and he loves me.”

  “Do you love him?”

  The answer was none of his business, yet for all that she’d done to him, it seemed she owed him as much honesty now as she could muster. “I care for him. And in time, when our children arrive, I know my love will grow.”

  “You’ll grow to hate him in time.”

  She absorbed his wrath, feeling as if she deserved it. Her body ached. Her mind felt numb. “I failed you, Caleb, but I will not fail Henry. I will be a good wife to him. Our children will be safe and well loved no matter what life brings.”

  He pushed away from the desk. He closed the distance between them so that he stood right behind her. The heat of his body warmed her cold skin. “And what of the nights, Alanna?”

  Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Passion is dangerous. The pleasure pales in the face of the destruction.”

  He reached out to her but she moved away. She feared if he touched her she’d crumble. A part of her wanted to tumble into his arms. There’d been too many times when she’d missed him so much she’d hurt. But she didn’t.

  Caleb would always take risks. And she needed a man who would be there for her and their children.

  “Once you’ve tasted desire as we have, it is hard to forget. Without desire, your days will be gray and bland.”

  “I will live without it and be better for it.” She would control her inner passions. She would learn to find pleasure in the simple everyday.

  “You are like me. A part of you craves the dark and dangerous.”

  No! She wanted predictability. And she would learn to love Henry. “It’s as it should be. We forfeited our chance.”

  He turned her around so that she faced him. “Then why, even after you failed me, why does it gall me that Henry will be taking the place that should have been mine. And that his children will quicken in your belly, not mine.”

  “I don’t know.” The simply spoken words slammed into her like a wave. Henry would never take Caleb’s place. Alanna knew that now. But he offered no risks. No pain.

  Caleb’s gaze darkened and his fingers tightened around her shoulders. “So much wasted. So much lost.”

  She swallowed. “What happened two years ago wasn’t my fault.”

  “You’re right, you didn’t rig that boiler to explode. But you also didn’t believe in me enough to question the events. You weren’t there for me.”

  “I will always regret that.”

  “Good.” He strode out of the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Just past sunrise the next morning, Caleb stood on the crow’s nest atop the lighthouse. The rains had stopped temporarily and the warmer air smelled clean and fresh.

  In a couple of days the channel would be passable. And Alanna would leave.

  Caleb muttered an oath.

  Alanna.

  Two years ago, twenty-three of his men had died at sea and he’d lost Alanna. He’d borne the crushing pain, accepting it as punishment for his own sins. He’d dared to challenge the elements and had lost.

  So, he’d come to the lighthouse, refusing to think beyond the winter season. But winter turned to spring and then summer and he’d stayed on, mostly because he had nowhere else to go.

  These last few months he’d come to an uneasy peace about his life. He would never have described himself as a happy man, but there was solace out here near the shoals. Here he made a difference.

  There were no investors to satisfy, no one to impress, no complicated social rules to worry over. There was no past and no future. Just today and the sea. And at the end of each day, he knew without question if he’d won or lost.

  Alanna’s arrival had changed all that.

  As he’d stared into her red-rimmed eyes, he’d seen pain that mirrored his own. He’d seen regret, longing and a bone-deep sadness.

  Like him, she’d made bad decisions. And like him she had suffered.

  He stared down at his hands and realized he was clenching the railing. With an effort he released the wrought iron and settled his focus back on the calming waters.

  Restless and edgy, Caleb opened his telescope and scanned the horizon for ships. There’d been none for the last three days, but today there was a schooner. Headed north, she rode low in the water, likely with a cargo from the Caribbean.

  A less experienced man would have assumed the storm was finished, but he knew differently. The storm was going to return—likely by night-fall—and it would be just as devastating and deadly as the last. Anyone who v
entured out now was at risk.

  Caleb shook his head. Her captain was a fool to sail now. No matter how well he thought he knew these waters, the incoming storm could splinter his hull like a twig if he didn’t clear the area in time.

  Caleb closed his scope and tucked it in his jacket.

  Retreating inside, he checked the wicks one last time, then started down the hundred-plus steps that spiraled down the center of the lighthouse.

  When he reached the bottom, he wasn’t winded. So different than when he’d first arrived here. Weeks in a hospital bed had robbed him of his vigor and climbing the lighthouse stairs had seemed impossible. But he’d been determined to take that first step and then the second. His body had ached and his heart thundered in his chest as his lungs had begged for air.

  But he’d made the climb. And with each new day, he’d grown stronger until the stairs were as much a part of him as the wind and sea.

  He stared across the compound at the house. The lights were on in the kitchen. He saw Alanna pass in front of a window.

  Even now, he could still smell the faint scent of her perfume and remember how soft her skin was to the touch.

  The other night when he’d undressed her. He’d tried to keep his thoughts impersonal but his hands had trembled when his fingers had brushed her skin. He’d been unable to resist touching his fingers to her lips.

  She’s not yours anymore.

  Caleb turned up his collar against the wind and walked the twenty paces to the house. He pushed open the door and a gust of wind swirled around his feet. He closed the door, aware that the house possessed vibrancy with Alanna in it.

  He found Alanna standing at the stove, still dressed in her seaman’s garb, stirring a kettle of porridge.

  Toby looked up from his pallet by the stove. The hound yawned and then laid his head back down.

  “Good morning,” she said coolly.

  “Morning.”

  He sat down on the bench to pull off a boot, noting that the large seaman’s sweater she wore accentuated the elegant length of her neck and the swell of her full breasts. Her long wheat-colored curls, tied back with a length of rope, brushed the top of her hips. Her breeches clearly outlined her figure. Suddenly the pants seemed too tight.

  He’d kissed that neck.

  Suckled those breasts.

  Savagely, he wondered if Henry had done the same.

  Caleb shoved his hand through his hair and turned away. Stow those thoughts. His eyes were set ahead on the horizon now.

  He jerked off wet boots, placed them neatly under the bench then shrugged off his jacket and hung it on its assigned peg.

  “The weather’s clearing,” Alanna said. She sounded overly formal, a tone she always took when she was upset.

  “Aye, it’s clearing, but there’s more weather behind it.”

  “But we can make the mainland if we leave now.”

  “We might, but there won’t be time enough for me to get back to the lighthouse. And someone has to be here to man the light.”

  She wanted to get angry, he could see that, but she held her emotions in check. “When can I leave?”

  “A day or two.”

  “That long?” Her shoulders sagged. “The mainland is so close.”

  “In this weather, the mile-long trip might as well be a thousand miles. You know better than most that these waters are dangerous, Alanna.”

  “I’d almost be willing to take the risk.”

  He rose and moved toward the stove. He picked up the hot pot of simmering coffee and poured himself a cup. Cold and tired, he was grateful he didn’t have to wait the hour brewing time. “Impulsive as ever, Alanna.”

  Fire sparked in her eyes. “I am not impulsive.”

  Caleb had seen that look before. They’d had their share of arguments in the past. Her spirit had always warmed his blood. “If you’re looking for a fight today, Alanna, I’ll give it to you. I’m in no mood to deal with a spoiled woman.”

  Her chest rose and fell as she stared at him. “I want to get off this island and start living my life. I don’t see what’s so selfish about that!”

  “I won’t get myself killed so you can run home to Henry.” He sipped his coffee.

  “This isn’t about Henry,” she snapped.

  He sat down at the table. He’d rather have her spitting mad than indifferent. “How long have you two been separated? Four or five days?”

  “Seven.”

  “By tomorrow he’ll realize you aren’t at home. He’s going to figure out you came here and he’s going to hate it.”

  Defiance straightened her slender shoulders. “He’ll understand when I explain.”

  “Will he?”

  She glared at him. “I’m not worried about Henry. He loves me.”

  The bit of desperation in her voice had him raising his head. When she got a full view of his scars in daylight, she flinched and dipped her gaze. Irritated by her reaction, he felt an unreasonable need to punish. “Henry always wanted what was mine.”

  Fire flashed in her eyes. “I haven’t been yours for a very long time.” She lifted her chin. “And if you’ll remember, I knew Henry long before I met you.”

  Caleb’s jaw tensed. “A fact he always enjoyed pointing out to me.”

  Born into old money, Henry had fully expected to marry Alanna and take over Patterson Shipping. And likely, he’d have done just that if Caleb hadn’t moved to Richmond. Hungry to make his fortune, Caleb had worked harder than three men and he quickly caught the notice of Obadiah Patterson. He’d risen through the company fast, and if that weren’t sin enough in Henry’s mind, he’d captured Alanna’s heart. Henry hated Caleb, and he’d told him every chance he’d had, though he was careful to hide his feelings from Obadiah and Alanna.

  Alanna shoved out a sigh, as if she were suddenly weary. “I’ve no energy to cover old ground. What’s done is done. Let it go.”

  Let it go. Alanna made it sound easy. After all the pain and misery, letting her go should have been simple. But it wasn’t.

  Alanna moved to the window over the sink and gazed out. “It isn’t raining now. Is it safe to go for a walk?”

  “It’s cold out there.”

  Taking his statement as a yes, she moved to the back door. “The cold won’t bother me as long as the air is fresh.”

  Unlike the young misses in her social set, Alanna had never been content to spend endless hours inside. Keeping her inside now would be futile.

  “Stay clear of the surf,” he warned. “They’ve a fierce pull in them today.”

  She reached for a spare coat of his hanging on a peg by the back door. “Yes. Yes, I know. I shan’t be gone long.”

  She shrugged on the coat, which seemed to swallow up her small frame, and then whistled for the dog. Toby’s ears perked and he rose quickly. The dog hurried toward her. She scratched him between the ears and the two went outside.

  Caleb didn’t rise from his seat at the table until she and Toby were gone. Only then did he walk to the back door. He watched Alanna and Toby walk across the wind-blown yard toward the dunes. She picked up a pinecone and tossed it hard. Toby ran after the cone, his tail wagging.

  “Damn dog,” Caleb muttered. “Acts like she hasn’t been gone at all.”

  Alanna’s hips swayed as she followed the dog past the lighthouse toward the beach. She paused on the dune, picked a handful of sea oats, and then disappeared toward the beach.

  “Impulsive as ever,” he muttered.

  Caleb finished his coffee and put his mug in the sink. He noticed then that the dishes he’d left soaking the last few days had been cleaned and put away. The countertops had been wiped and the floor swept.

  The old Alanna wouldn’t have bothered to clean or straighten. She’d have worried over her hair or lost herself in the latest copy of Harper’s.

  There were other changes in her. She didn’t laugh freely like she used to. She was more direct and she hadn’t tried to win him over with flattery. Thinner th
an he remembered, her cheeks had sharpened and her eyes looked more deep-set. Her hands were callused now.

  But she still was impulsive.

  And she’d not been there for him the one time he’d really needed her.

  He needed sleep. He didn’t need to spend precious energy thinking about Alanna.

  Still, the surf was rough today. If she were to see a shell or if the dog chased a gull into the water, she wouldn’t think twice about running into the waves.

  The ifs hitched in his gut. And before he thought, he’d pulled on his boots and coat.

  Alanna sat on the beach, staring at the vast ocean. In the distance a slim patch of blue sky sliced through thick dark clouds. Though the morning sun streamed through the break in the clouds, she could see it would soon be chocked out by more bad weather.

  Still, just sitting here on the beach invigorated her.

  It had been two years since she’d been to the beach. There’d been nights after her father had died when she’d lain awake dreaming of the hot sun and the crashing of the waves. Memories had sustained her.

  Toby ran into the surf, chasing seagulls, barking. Wind rustled through the sea oats and stirred the salty ocean scents.

  Last night after Caleb had left for his shift, she’d sneaked back into his study and reread the bank notes her father had signed two years ago. She’d stared at his bold signature, trying to find some reason that would prove Caleb wrong. But the longer she sat and stared, the more she had believed Caleb. In the end, she left the box her father had bequeathed him and closed the door on her way out.

  She buried her face in her hands. Tears filled her eyes. So much loss.

  “That dog is going to drown.” Caleb’s raspy voice sounded behind her.

  Tipping her head back, she dashed a tear from her face. “He loves to run.”

  Caleb stood next to her, staring toward the waves and his dog. “He doesn’t have the sense to know there’s a riptide out there.”

  Caleb whistled and Toby’s ears perked. The dog bounded back through the waves toward his master, barking all the way.

 

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