Mary Burton

by The Lightkeepers Woman

  “I’m almost glad she’s staying.”

  Henry’s voice had the muscles in Caleb’s back tensing. Turning, he found the man pushing through the front door. Dark circles hung under Henry’s pale green eyes. His suit, normally meticulously pressed, was wrinkled.

  Caleb’s impatience doubled as he watched Henry stride into the room. Henry represented the past and he wanted nothing more to do with the past. “I’ll take that as your blessing.”

  Henry tugged his coat jacket over a soiled cuff. “You were always a pain in my side. From the moment you stepped onto the docks at Patterson.”

  Caleb’s jaw tensed. “Why haven’t you left Easton yet?”

  His eyes narrowed. “My coach I hired, which was in perfect working condition yesterday, now has a broken wheel. The only man in town who could fix it was away yesterday. I was forced to spend the night sitting up in a godforsaken tavern waiting for him.”

  Sloan at work, Caleb mused. He’d bet next month’s salary that Sloan had told him there were no rooms in his inn. He’d also bet Henry would pay five times the rate for the return trip. “Bad luck.”

  Henry sneered. “Bad luck has nothing to do with it. Your locals have been at work. Seems they think a lot of you.”

  “Make your point.”

  Henry strode behind the bar as if he owned it and grabbed a glass and a bottle of whisky. He filled the glass full. “I can think of no better place that Alanna deserves than Easton.”

  Silent, Caleb stood rigid. “You better go.”

  Henry drained his glass. He winced and coughed. “In five years, she’ll be just as tired and broken as this run-down town.” Henry tapped a smooth finger on the edge of his glass. “She’s so impulsive. We both know that. She’ll spend the rest of her days wishing she’d stayed with me.”

  Caleb wasn’t ashamed of himself or the life he’d chosen. But standing this close to Henry he was keenly aware of his rough hands callused by hard work. His coat was well worn and his boots scuffed. This life suited him fine, but again he worried if it was for Alanna?

  “You know I’m right,” Henry said. Like an animal that sensed doubt, he moved in to kill. “You are a pariah in polite society. You lost your ship. Good men died because you could not do your job. Once Alanna marries you, she’ll have to bear your shame.”

  Fury scorched Caleb’s soul. He moved so close to Henry that their boot tips touched. “Get on that stage and leave this town now.” There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

  Henry heard it. Paling, he took a step back. Then turning abruptly he hurried to the door and opened it. “In the end she will hate you.” He slammed the door behind him.

  In the quiet stillness, Caleb let the tension seep from his shoulders. The exhilaration he’d felt moments ago had vanished. The bitterness returned.

  Sloan walked through the kitchen door, drying his hands with a towel. “Don’t tell me I heard that Henry Strathmore’s voice. You’d have thought that whelp would stay clear of me.” He chuckled. “Nate did a number on the man’s carriage wheel.”

  Sloan pulled a tray out from under the bar. “Got some hotcakes on the grill. Be happy to send a tray up.”

  Caleb traced the edge of the tray with his thumb. “This is a hard life we live out here.”

  Sloan rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Aye,” he said.

  “It’s hardest on the women.”

  Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “She’s tougher than I ever gave her credit for. When she first came to town, I’d have bet the bar she’d not travel across the waters to see you. But she did.”

  “She nearly got herself killed doing it.”

  “Life ain’t easy out here, Caleb.”

  “Do you think she will grow to hate this place?”

  “She sure did love it yesterday.”

  He heard the hesitation in the old man’s voice. “Yes or no, Sloan. Do you think she has what it takes?”

  Sloan shook his head. “I think she loves you.”

  Caleb knew she’d stay with him no matter what. But was she better off living somewhere where the wind, sun and salt air didn’t eat away at you. “That’s not what I asked.”

  Sloan muttered an oath. “I don’t know. Only time will tell.”

  Caleb knew Alanna would give this place her best try. She’d work hard. She wouldn’t complain. But when he looked deep into his heart, he found himself face-to-face with old doubts. His mother had grown to despise this place. It had drained the life from her. He didn’t want to see that happen to Alanna.

  It was only ten o’clock—too early for liquor, but he had a powerful taste for whiskey.

  Sloan must have sensed what he was thinking. He set two fresh glasses on the bar and filled them. “You love her?”

  Caleb drowned his in one swallow. “Aye.”

  “Then I say make the best of it. Hell, who knows, she could do just fine out here.”

  Caleb pictured Alanna when he’d last seen her in Richmond. She’d been dressed in silks and she’d breezed through the ballroom as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He tried to picture her in ten years. Images of Alanna’s smiling face collided with his last memory of his mother’s tired features. His father had refused to let his mother go and the results had been hell for everyone.

  He set the glass down. “I can’t do it to her.”

  “Do what?”

  “Ask her to stay.”

  Alanna waited in the room for Caleb for nearly an hour. Finally, she began to worry, so she dressed quickly. She combed her fingers through her long hair and braided it. Moving to the door, she glanced back at the bed, still rumpled from their night of lovemaking.

  Abruptly, she was struck by a feeling of dread. Caleb wouldn’t leave her like this. Something was terribly wrong.

  When she arrived downstairs, the inn was full of customers. Sloan was busy behind the bar, loading plates of flapjacks onto a tray.

  She went directly to him. “Where is he?”

  Sloan hoisted the tray up on his arm. “Henry left.”

  “I’m not talking about Henry! I’m talking about Caleb.”

  “He’s gone.” Sloan moved around the bar and wove between the tables. He served three fishermen and started back toward the bar.

  Alanna blocked his path. “Where is he?”

  Sloan dropped his gaze. “Gone back to the lighthouse.”

  “Without me? When will he be back?”

  “I don’t reckon he is coming back.”

  Stunned, she stood there. It was just as Henry had said. He’d left her.

  When Caleb strode into the lightkeeper’s cottage, he was struck by the solitude. He heard the clock tick on the parlor mantle, the wind whistle past the house, and the waves crashing in the distance.

  Toby rose from his bed by the stove and sauntered over to Caleb. The dog sniffed his fingers then moved past Caleb as if he were searching for Alanna.

  He’d never felt so alone.

  He shrugged off his coat and strode toward his office. There was bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer. He shoved open the door and slammed it behind him. The windows rattled.

  He sat down and yanked open the drawer and pulled out the bottle. He tossed the cork aside and took a long drink.

  The brew tasted bitter and only managed to foul his bad mood.

  A faint scratching echoed at the office door. “Go away, Toby!”

  The dog scratched harder.

  Irritated, he rose and opened the door. The dog sauntered past him as if he owned the place and sat down next to Caleb’s desk.

  “I’m foul company today. You’re better to stay clear of me for a long time.”

  The dog barked.

  “She’s not coming back if that’s what you’re asking. The stage is leaving about now. She had no choice but to be on it.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the box Alanna had carried here for him. Snarling, he picked it up. Thanks to Obadiah Patterson, his
world had been turned upside down. His fingers tightened around the box and he hurled it across the room. It smashed into the door and fell to the ground, shattered.

  Alanna planted her hands on her hips. “I swear, Sloan, I will start screaming like a madwoman if you don’t take me across the sound.”

  The buzz of conversation in the dining room went silent.

  Sloan’s expression looked pained. “He thinks it’s best you two go your separate ways. He thinks you’ll be happier in Richmond.” His arms loaded with another tray of food, he tried to move around her.

  She blocked him. “He’s wrong!”

  Sloan shoved out a sigh. “Is he? Take a good look around this room and at the people. If you stay you’ll be as hard as they are in fifteen years.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “You say that now. I remember how rough it was for Caleb’s parents. His ma loved this place when they arrived that first spring. By the time she died, she couldn’t even look at the water because she hated the sight of it so much. Caleb’s mother made life hell for everyone who came in close contact with her.”

  Alanna felt as though she was talking to a rock. “Hell? She made life hell!” She grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs and grits. She smashed it against the floor. “You and everyone else in this town don’t know the meaning of the word hell until you’ve met an unhappy Alanna Patterson.”

  Sloan stared at the plate. A couple of the sailors and fishermen started to laugh. “What the devil has gotten into you?”

  She grabbed another plate and held it high over her head. “Are you going to take me to the island?”

  Sloan’s gaze narrowed. “No.”

  Alanna slammed the plate onto the floor, covering Sloan’s boots with pancakes. “Take me to Caleb.”

  “You’re a madwoman.”

  “You’ve yet to see me really mad, Mr. Sloan. I can assure you it’s a sight you don’t want to see.”

  Sloan turned back to the bar and set the tray with the remaining plates out of her reach. “I promised him I wouldn’t take you.”

  “This is so stupid. I want to be with him. I love him.” Tears of frustration ran down her face as she turned to the crowd of men and women. “Won’t anyone take me?”

  The room grew silent and she was aware that all eyes had shifted to her. “I need to go to the lighthouse. Won’t anyone help me?”

  “Give it up,” Sloan said. “It’s best to let go now.”

  Soft murmurs rippled through the room.

  “I don’t have any money,” Alanna said. “But I must get to the island to see Caleb. Please.”

  A long silence passed before a fisherman with skin as rough as leather and a graying beard stood. He tossed his napkin on his half-eaten food. “I’ll take you.”

  Sloan wagged his finger at the man. “Danny Walters. Don’t you dare take her anywhere except back to Richmond. Caleb don’t want her.”

  Alanna’s heart raced. “He does want me! He’s just worried.”

  Danny picked up his duffel bag. “Ida told me she had a vision about this gal. Said she and the captain was going to have four children. Three boys and a girl.”

  Sloan groaned. “Ida don’t know what she’s saying.”

  Another fisherman rose. Younger, he had a slim build and a deeply tanned face. “Ida says she’s good for the captain then that’s good enough for me.” He touched his stocking cap. “Name’s Bart Moore. If Danny won’t take you I will.”

  Alanna clasped his hand. “Thank you.”

  Bart winked at her. “A woman’s got to be a little crazy to take him on.”

  Another sailor rose. “Aye, I’d say she’s just what the captain ordered.”

  Sloan groaned. “I don’t want to see you two get hurt.”

  Alanna took his hand. “It will be all right.”

  He shook his head. “I hope you aren’t making a mistake.”

  “I’m not.”

  Caleb stared at what was left of the box. It had broken into three pieces—two small, the other large. He’d have left the pieces of wood there if he’d not spotted the edge of paper sticking out from the large piece.

  “What the hell?”

  He rose and moved toward the box. Squatting, he picked up the yellowed paper rolled into a thin scroll banded with a thin cord.

  He untied the band and unrolled the paper. The gold bracelet he’d once given Alanna fell to the floor. He picked it up. It glistened in the sunlight.

  Caleb dropped his gaze to the letter. The handwriting was shaky and uneven, but there was no mistaking that it was a note from Obadiah to him.

  Caleb, forgive an old man’s greed. I never meant for anyone to die. My sins are unpardonable, but you must forgive yourself.

  I’ve made so many mistakes that can’t be righted but I can try to fix the damage I did to you and Alanna. There is no life in her when you two are apart. I know that now. You belong together. Take care of her. O.P.

  Caleb reread the note several times. His brain turned the words over and over. And then a fierce tidal wave of emotions swept over him.

  He tipped his head back, damning the tears that pooled in his eyes. He’d been so sure the old man had sent Alanna to destroy him. Instead, he’d been sending her to love him.

  You belong together.

  Once he’d damned Alanna for not having the courage to stand by his side, yet he was the one that now lacked courage. He’d sent her away because he’d been afraid.

  He took several deep breaths until he felt a measure of control return. The fear drained from his body and his mind cleared.

  Aye, he and Alanna belonged together.

  “And I’ve let her go!” he shouted.

  He rose and snatched up his coat, shoving the bracelet in his pocket. Toby lumbered to his feet. Wagging his tail he started to bark.

  “You’re right, I’ve been a damn fool.” Mentally he calculated the stage route. They’d be an hour outside of town now. It would take him an hour to row to shore and another half hour to find a horse. If he were lucky, he’d catch up to her by nightfall before she got onto the barge to Richmond.

  Damn, why did he let her go?

  Like the devil himself was on his heels he ran down the hallway and out the back door as he shrugged on his coat. He raced down the pathway that led to the small sound-side dock where he’d tied his dory.

  The sun was bright and the sun warm. He climbed down the dock ladder into the boat and reached for the knot. He yanked it loose and cast away from the dock.

  His back to the mainland, he started to row. “Hang on, Alanna, I’m coming back to you.”

  The boat cut through the waters as he pumped the oars. He felt more and more anxious as each second ticked by. He couldn’t make the boat move any faster and the frustration drove him to work harder.

  Any other day he’d have savored the sight of the clear blue sky. He’d have paused to listen to the cry of the gulls and inhale the savory salt air.

  It was a perfect day.

  It was an awful day.

  Sweat started to trickle down his back. He needed to stop rowing for a moment and shrug off his coat but didn’t dare waste the time.

  “Caleb.”

  He imagined Alanna’s voice trailing on the winds. But of course, it couldn’t be her. She was halfway to Coinjock Bay. Dear Lord, he wanted it to be her.

  “Caleb!”

  This time he stopped rowing and turned. Bright sunshine blinded him, forcing him to squint. He cupped his hand over his eyes.

  He saw Alanna sitting in the bow of Sloan’s dory, her arms waving. Sunlight glistened on her blond hair. Her skirt billowed in the breeze.

  It was as if the gods of the ocean granted his one and only wish. “Alanna!”

  She beamed. “Caleb Pitt, if you think you are going to get rid of me that easily, you are sadly mistaken, sir.”

  God, he loved her. He rowed harder until his boat grazed the side of Sloan’s. On one side of Sloan sat Danny and on the other Bart. A
ll three looked winded, ready to collapse, as if Alanna had driven them hard.

  His gaze shifted to Alanna. Her eyes were red with tears.

  He held out his hands to her and immediately she leaned toward him. He hugged his arms around her and lifted her into his boat. “I was a fool.”

  She hugged him tight, and then she kissed his face. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

  He kissed her on the lips. “You’re stuck with me, Alanna. Nothing’s going to tear us apart again.”

  Sloan wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You’d do me a great service, Captain, if you’d marry the woman. She broke half the dishes in my inn. I’ll tell you now, I’m far too old for such dramatics.”

  Danny jabbed Bart in the ribs. “Don’t you believe it, Caleb. I ain’t seen that old man move so fast in years. Got his blood pumping.”

  “Thank you all,” Caleb said.

  They nodded, proud of themselves. “We’d do anything for you, Captain.”

  Caleb gazed into Alanna’s warm eyes. “I’ll marry the lady if she’ll have me.”

  Her eyes glistened, reflecting all the love in her heart. “I’ll marry him. It’s forever and always, Captain Pitt.”

  “Aye, forever and always.”

  Epilogue

  June, 1894

  Nine-year-old Nathan Pitt squirmed as his mother wiped the last traces of milk from the corner of his mouth. “Mom, ssstopp! I look fine.”

  Alanna couldn’t help but smile as she stared down at her firstborn child who of all her three boys looked so much like Caleb. “Your father went to a lot of trouble to arrange for the photographer and bring him out to the island, so I want this family portrait to be perfect.”

  “I look fine,” he groaned.

  She swiped the last bit of milk off his upper lip. “Now you do.” She glanced over to the row of chairs lined up in front of the lightkeeper’s cottage, which had been her home these last ten years.

  Pride swelled in her as she stared at the cottage’s whitewashed wood. Yellow morning glories in full bloom draped over the side of white window boxes. Two rockers now sat on the front porch and behind the house was a vegetable garden. Two cows grazed near a chicken pen filled with chickens that pecked at the dirt.