The Lighthouse Romance Anthology (The Life Saving Series)

by Dawn Luedecke

  Alex couldn’t help but enjoy her response, sass in a woman was good. Especially since he may be marooned with her for a while—judging by the look of the land he’d surveyed before the storm hit as he’d searched for a good spot to weather the storm.

  He’d seen her standing on top of the tower. As he had many time past whenever he’d sailed his ship south. He’d always admired her through his looking glass, but never had the privilege of meeting the woman who’d captured his attention so many times. At least he could talk to her now. Get to know her.

  He held up both hands in surrender. “Alright. You’re in charge. So how long until I can be on my way, boss?” Not that he wanted to leave her. Not yet, anyway.

  Sylvia frowned. “Why? Do you need to be somewhere? Is your family waiting for you?”

  “No. No family either. I just have something important to do as soon as I can, and I need to find another ship.”

  “In a couple of days the Manzanita will be bringing my supplies in. If you are better, you can catch a ride back with them. Or you could wait until my cousin comes and I can take you on the skiff to the mainland. He should be arriving with the supplies.”

  “Sounds like a good idea, I’ll try and ride out with them. I wouldn’t want to bother you anymore than I have.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down, and her eyes dropped to the floor. Was she disappointed that he was to leave?. Maybe it was because she spent most of her days alone, without another soul to talk to. Or maybe it was something all together different. Whatever her reason, he felt the same. He didn’t want to leave her and this dreamlike island and return to a life of loneliness. Not yet, anyway.

  Sylvia stood and turned toward the door. “I have to go and prepare for another storm, if you will excuse me—“

  “I’ll come with…if you’ll wait for me. Walking around would do me good, I should think.”

  Sylvia smiled and nodded.

  “I’ll just wait outside,” she said, and retreated.

  Ten minutes later, Alex stumbled. His legs still weak after being bed ridden for so long. Sylvia rushed to offer help, but he waved her away. “Thanks, but I need to get my strength back.”

  “Alright, but if you need there are lines that run everywhere on the island. If you feel weak, you can use them. They usually help me anchor during a storm. I don’t get to just stay inside during a downpour. Not when the beacon is so important to sailors.”

  Alex nodded and grabbed onto the nearest rope. They followed the paths around the Keepers abode, and to the Lighthouse. She boarded up windows, prepared the little oil lamp in the corner, checked the tools aligning the wall, and adjusted the clockwork mechanism that powered the Lighthouse tower’s lens rotation. What he wouldn’t give to do those tasks for her, but she’d waived him off when he tried to help. When that was finished, she checked on the lamp in the tower while he stayed below.

  The quiet familiarity was intoxicating. So different from his life as a pirate hunter and privateer. Things here were simple yet important. Serene enough to warm his chilled soul and make him crave the life Sylvia lives. Perhaps it was the accident or the seclusion of the island, but something about this place was intoxicating.

  The rest of the afternoon they walked slowly around the island and prepared the various buildings. The sun sank low on the water’s edge, and Sylvia led him to the top of the cliffs, searching the horizon for ships.

  The walking was good for his recovery. With each step his strength grew until he could hold his weight alone without the fear of losing strength.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, as he stepped up next to her.

  “Watching the calm before the storm. I memorize the vessel traffic and calculate where they will be when the storm hits.” She glanced over to him, her eyes shining mischievously. “Usually, your ship is the only one out when the seas get rough. There are only two reasons why sailors stay out during the storm, especially this close to the rocky shoreline”

  “And what are those reasons?”

  “Either you are touched in the head, or doing something illegal.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “How did you get to me so fast? I had just barely hit the water when you pulled me out.”

  She glanced back at him, and then turned to watch the water. “I saw him coming from over there,” she said, and pointed in the opposite direction from where his ship had sank.

  “Who?” He asked, glaring.

  “Black Bellamy. The pirate. Once I knew he was headed for your ship, I readied my skiff. When I heard the cannons, I started out. I figured someone would need my help.”

  “That is the most foolish thing I have ever heard in my life,” he growled. “What if you ran into the pirate? Or had been taken over by a rogue wave?” What if he’d lost her before he even knew her?

  He glowered. “Even a pirate needs the beacon. He wouldn’t have hurt me, and I’ve been fighting rogue waves since I was fifteen.”

  “And how old are you now?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “So you have been risking your life to save complete strangers for over ten years, and you still want to do it? Even after your parents died?”

  “Yes. It’s all I know. I’m good at it. With a little bit of willpower, and a whole lot of strength, anyone can do anything.”

  “I believe that,” he said. “You have done a good job so far, and you’re not much bigger than a child.” They stood and watched the ocean. “You said you watch the vessels before storms and guess what they are going to do, tell me what you see out there.”

  “Most of them will be gone within the hour, but the little fishing boat over there,” she pointed to the north, toward the storm. “Unless they go to shore soon, they won’t make it out. In my experience, the fishermen tend to push the limits.” Alex felt his body growing weak. He needed to lie down. “Let’s get inside. The storm will hit in a couple of hours and I need to eat, just in case.”

  Alex nodded and they retired to the house to wait for the storm, and the destruction it would undoubtedly bring.

  Chapter 3

  Alex lurched upright as the sound of the clock on the mantle chimed midnight. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it as if it were as tangible as the cot he lay on. Without another though, he searched the small house, but Sylvia wasn’t to be found. He looked out the small window in her bedroom just as the beacon flashed past the window—a shining vigilant through the night. Warning the sailors to-be wary as the rain slanted down against his window pane.

  Light shone through the small, open door on the base of the lighthouse. The weather had turned to a raging storm, just as Sylvia had predicted. The waves crashed against the rocky precipice, sending sea spray cascading above the rocks as they clashed against the shore.

  Alex leaned on the small table next to Sylvia’s lace-covered bed. He ground his teeth against the pain as he willed his muscles to strengthen. Return to normal. He was still so weak even though he’d worked some of the strength back earlier. Weakling.

  He lowered himself and sat in the darkness. It was all he could do.

  His hand brushed something and he looked down to see a rumpled paper on her nightstand. Curious, he opened the document and read. His heart broke when he finished the notice from the Lighthouse Board. Since she was not married and so young that they considered her to be unqualified for the position. Without a man to help her, it would be almost impossible for her to maintain the keeper position.

  He rubbed his hands over his face. What he wouldn’t give to help her. Be there for her like she’d been there for him during his weakest moment. She’d touched something deep within him and almost made him want to stay. She was brave and sweet, the perfect woman in all ways.

  But he happened to be a hunted man. Almost as wicked as the one who wanted him dead. He had told Sylvia of his involvement with the California Tanning Company, but what he didn’t tell her was that while he sometimes did shipments, his main job was to hunt the pirate that stalke
d the waters of the Pacific Northwest. He was in a constant war with a man who happened to be deadlier than the black plague. But Alex was no better than a pirate himself.

  His job was to plunder Black Bellamy’s ship and steal the pirate’s treasure. Once he had the booty, he brought it back to the Peninsula and gave it to the California Tanning Company, who in turn delivered it to the surrounding towns that struggled for survival.

  Bellamy had found a fierce enemy when he hijacked a ship which belonged to the California Tanning Company. The owner sought out and recruited Alex to fight and strike back at the nefarious pirate.

  Alex balanced on the edge of Sylvia’s dainty bed when a flash of light caught his attention. He looked out into the deep churning waters of the Pacific and saw the light. His heart beat a fierce tattoo in his chest when he realized that Sylvia was not in the Lighthouse, but on a rescue. He watched for a minute as the skiff struggled against the current.

  He had to do something, he could not sit here and watch her death occur—lost in the vast never ending sea. The fear of her capsizing and falling into the depths made his mind swirl as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart beat faster. He leaped off of the bed and ran to the door. He pulled the spare slicker and hat from the peg, rushed outside, and felt through the darkness for the rope that would help him navigate the island. The rough, scratchy line skimmed along his hand, and he grasped the lifeline.

  Alex used the lead as he picked his way down the slope to the tramway. Slowly, step-by-step, he moved down the incline and to the platform. Once he stood on the flat surface, he looked around, getting his bearings and searching for a boat to use. He spotted the little canoe balanced on the edge of the wooden surface. He would have to carry it down the rocky trail to the water’s edge, and then paddle it out to the dangerous waters. It wasn’t the safest way to travel in a storm, but it would have to do.

  He heaved the boat over his head and started down the path. He reached the bottom of the rocky cliffs just as the strain from the exertion began to weaken his muscles. It would take all of his will power to reach her. Alex tossed the boat onto the edge of the water, and started to climb in when gentle sobs penetrated his concentration. Only then did he noticed the skiff secured to a line nearby. He pulled the canoe back onto the beach and scanned the area for Sylvia. Another sob brought his attention to the crevice of two boulders near the cliff’s base where he could barely make out her silhouette.

  In two strides he stood next to her and bent, hoping she would take solace in his warmth. She drew her legs close to her chest, and hugged them.

  Alex bent closer, inches from her face. “What is it?”

  Sylvia did nothing more than shake her head vigorously from side-to-side. With a shaky hand she pointed to a black spot further along the beach.

  Through the darkness he made out the outline of two bodies—a man and a boy from the looks of the shadows.

  He left Sylvia curled into ball as he walked over to the bodies, heaved the boy up, and brought him into one of the buildings on the platform, and then returned for the man. After he finished, he replaced the canoe to its formal position, and returned for Sylvia.

  He lifted her into his arms and started up the pathway, tramway, and finally to the little house. She was so small in his arms, and shivering uncontrollably as he held her close. She needed him now as much as he’d needed her out on the water, but how could he ever repay her for saving his life?

  Once inside, he deposited her on the cot, and then went into the kitchen and poured her a glass of the whiskey he found in the cupboard. When he returned, he handed her the glass. “Here, drink this. It’s not a hot-toddy, but it will help.”

  She downed the glass and set it carefully on the table, not yet bringing her gaze to his, her eyes tear filled and face ashen.

  He let the silence stretch between them. Patient as he waited.

  “He was just a boy,” she said finally, her voice quavering.

  Alex picked her up, plopped down in the large rocker, and placed her on his lap. They sat together in silence. The soft pattering of the rain on the window pain, and occasional sobs from deep within Sylvia the only sounds in the room, aside from the gentle tick of the clock on the mantle.

  Needing to touch her, help ease her mind, he caressed her hair. Gently rocking back-and-forth. “You had to have seen death before, Syl, with a job like this?”

  “Ye…yes, but it doesn’t get easier.”

  “No, you’re right. I can’t imagine it would.” Alex watched her lips tremble, as she fought to hold back the tears. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be someone else. To be the man she needed to fulfill her life’s dreams.

  He wished he were better. Good enough for her.

  He traced her plump lip with his thumb, and felt her relax. Her lips were pedal soft like a rose just out of bloom. He wanted to taste them. To see if they were as delicious as they looked.

  He shouldn’t. He should leave her be.

  Instead, he slid his hand to cup her jaw, and brought her face down to his to slowly brush his mouth against her hers. She was perfection. Tasted every bit as sweet as he’d imagined. How could he ever let her go? How could he board a ship and go out to sea knowing a woman such as Sylvia existed in this world without him?

  He didn’t know how he would brave such a martyrs act, but he had to.

  Her breasts rose and fell as she stared deep into his eyes. Was she as affected as he? Doubtful. She exhaled slowly, and a small moan of satisfaction escaped from deep within her chest. Alex responded as any red-blooded man would. He took her more firmly into his arms and kissed her again. This time with a passion he’d never felt before. As if he would die if he didn’t have this moment. This kiss bound them together. Forever.

  Alex ran his fingers into her hair as his kiss turned tender, reverent, and loving. Reluctantly, he drew back and looked at her face—now flushed with passion and need.

  “You can’t be real—with your lighthouse, and all of the love you show for everything around you. You are too perfect to be anything but a dream,” he said as he watched her mouth. “A mythical creature designed to keep sailors eyes on the horizon, searching for something…anything that will lead them back to you.”

  “I’m real,” she whispered. “But I fear you are not. You live the life of one without a care for danger. Some fictional hero determined to rid the world of evil.”

  She reached up with one soft hand and cupped his cheek. All he could do was lean into her warmth. The sensation grounded him to the moment, to the chair beneath him, and the feel of Sylvia on his lap. What he wouldn’t give to have her like this forever.

  Alex let out a harsh breath. “You are sweet, but you don’t know the real me, Sylvia. I want to be the man for you, but I’m no good. Some would call me a criminal. You probably should have just let me drown.” He took a deep breath and laid his head back, pulling her hand away from his face and hating the cold air that replaced her warmth. “When you said that a man only stays out in a storm for two reasons…my reason is the second.”

  “Doing something illegal?” She asked, confused.

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I am very good at reading people’s characters. You’re a good man.”

  What he wouldn’t give to have her think of him like this forever, but she had to know the truth. His heart beat hard, and his hands grew numb as he launched into the story of Black Bellamy and his war with the Tanning Company.

  Once finished, he waited. Holding his breath until she responded, “So you are telling me that you steal from a pirate and give it to struggling towns? The same money that the pirate stole from the towns in the first place? It sounds to me that you are more of a hero than a villain.”

  His heart soared at her words, but his mind shackled his soul to the ground before it could take flight. He couldn’t do this. Refused to allow her to paint him as anything other than what he was. A scally
wag. “Don’t make me out to be something that I am not, Sylvia.”

  “Ok, I won’t,” she said simply, a small smile stretched across her face a mere second before it changed. As if she knew something that he didn’t.

  Chapter 4

  The storm ended three days later. When the rain finally slowed to a drizzle, Alex went to the platform, wrapped the bodies, and prepared them for transportation on the Manzanita. Somewhere in this world a wife and mother were searching the seas for their loved ones. Never to find them on the horizon again. The Manzanita would bring them back to their final resting place, but life would never be the same for that family.

  Alex closed the doors to the shed and looked up to find Sylvia watching him. Her dress pulled taught against her as the wind hit her. He walked up the tramway and stood beside her to look out over the ocean.

  “Take a walk with me? I haven’t seen the other side of the island yet,” he asked with a smile. “Funny. I’ve been here for weeks, but have yet to see beyond the lighthouse and tramway.”

  She nodded. They ambled along the edge of the cliffs aligning the island and talked about nothing in particular. He enjoyed her company. More than he should. When they reached the back of the island, a large fishing vessel caught his eye. The hull was big enough to take on the waters of the Pacific, but the boat was small enough to be powered by a small crew. “Where did this come from?”

  He stopped to admire the boat.

  “It used to be my fathers. His pride and joy. Once every two months or so my uncles and cousins would come to the island and they would all go out on it. Now it just sits there. I’m still trying to decide what to do with it.”

  “What about your uncles? Are they going to want it?”

  “No, they already told me to sell it. They said it’s not the same without Papa.”

  “I’ll buy it if you decide to sell. I need another ship, and this one is perfect.”