At this moment, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. She knew Gavin was on duty at the station and that he would soon have to leave. Even though she could see the lifesaving building from where she stood and he wouldn’t be far away, it wouldn’t be the same.
“Don’t jump; it would be a waste of a beautiful woman.”
Abby turned and smiled at his remark. He always said that whenever he came upon her at the observation deck. “You mean jump the whole five feet to the ground from the porch?”
Gavin answered with a grin and a shrug, “Listen Abby, Nash may come out at any moment, so I don’t have much time to say this. I have been in love with you for years. This last couple of days I realized just how much you mean to me. I don’t want to live without you for one more day. Will you be my wife?”
“Of course,” she choked out in surprise and happiness.
“You will? Even though I am your brother’s best friend?”
“I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Gavin kissed her. His tender embrace proved the love he’d harbored deep within his soul.
“When do you have to go back to the station?” she asked.
“Next week. I got this week off in case you said yes. Now we can be married as soon as you want.”
In all-of-the world, there will never be a kiss on Christmas Day as passionate as the one that followed. All of the fervor, love, turmoil and emotion that assailed them for the last couple of days finally caught up. It was expelled through the kiss shared on the front porch of the lighthouse keepers abode that overlooked Cape Disappointment.
Ghost Ship’s Cry
Wade Alston is keeper of the Little Island Life Saving Station. He is haunted by his past, and the spine-chilling cry of the ghost ship that lies just outside the shoreline. To top it off, a crewman from the shipwreck is missing, and the man’s wife and daughter, Laura, continue to plague his life with a request that is not only against the rules, but downright dangerous.
Chapter 1
Little Island Lifesaving Station. February 3, 1888
The eerie cry rose up from the corpse of the tall ship. It pierced through the air and made him cringe. The sound close to that of a man in agony, in need of help… but that was impossible. The Lyle gun already sounded the boom that would carry the poor sailors to land and keep them from a watery grave.
“Kind of chills the bones, doesn’t it?” Wade Alston’s best friend and crew mate, Peter Dixon, said as he came up behind him. “I hate it when the bowels of a ship moan like that.”
Wade passed a quick glance at his friend and turned back to the ghostlike scene before him. The trade ship lay on its side, stuck on the sandbar, two hundred yards from land. A week before it ran aground during a violent storm that left many sailors stranded in the cold waters.
After the ship wrecked, Wade’s crew worked with determination to save those that remained on the boat. The Lyle gun shot a line to the troubled ship, and the crew was rescued with the Breeches Buoy.
Peter cleared his throat and interrupted the silence. “Those two ladies are back. They got their skirts in a wad and fire in their eyes. They’re insistin’ on talking to you.”
Wade let out a sigh of frustration. “Again? I told them there’s nothing we can do.”
Peter shrugged. “I guess they just don’t want to let go. Appease them. Take them out there to see for themselves.”
Wade stomped toward the lifesaving stations building. “It’s against the rules… and way too dangerous. I can’t risk Laura and her mother’s life, just because she thinks her father is still out there.”
The white sand of the beach kicked up behind his heels while he stalked up the sandy incline. The gentle warmth hit his face when entered the front door. The slight cold left over from the storm dominated the atmosphere outside and brought a sense of relief when ensconced in the warmth of a building.
Whenever he was within sight of Laura, she stole his breath—her classic beauty one to cherish forever. But, like always, his previous stance faltered when she turned her captivating smile on him. It lasted a second before it transformed into a look of utter devastation.
Strange.
“Wade,” she wailed, and threw herself against his chest.
Well, this is a first, he thought while he twined his arms around her in comfort. Her scent slid through the air and caused his mind to stir in a haze. She smelled of lavender and vanilla. She always did.
“I understand your grief Laura, but there isn’t anything more we can do.”
Her black curls bounced back and forth as she shook her head with vigor. “I know. We tried for over a week to get out to the ship and see for ourselves. But no one, not even fishermen, will take us. They say it’s too dangerous, and there’s a new storm due any day now.”
Wade looked to his right where Laura’s mother, Parthena, shook as she tried to hold back her sobs. I wish there was more we could do. Our men went out after the storm. No one else was on the boat.”
A new bout of tears fell, and he felt the indent of her face in his jacket when she snuggled closer.
“If only we could have gone, I know we’d have found him. He’s out there, and alive, I know it.”
“He’s not. No one is.”
“I know… you’re right.” She sniffled once more and straightened her spine. “That is why my mama and I are having a wake for him, tonight.” She pulled a white handkerchief up to her face and dabbed her tears. “Please come.”
“I’ll see if I can get Peter to stand by for me. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
“Oh, thank you!” she cried, and once again threw herself into his arms.
He leaned over and inhaled her scent once more. He knew it was wrong to be so selfish in her time of devastation, but he couldn’t help himself.
With a small hand in the center of his chest, she pushed away from him and went to fetch her mother. He could still feel the heat from her body against his when they rushed out the door to their waiting carriage.
Peter walked up beside him and stared out the window as the conveyance carried them away. “I heard. Of course I’ll stand by for you. People always want the Keeper at the funerals when there is a death.”
Wade inclined his head. “Did you find that conversation a little odd?”
Peter’s face scrunched in thought. “No, but they are women. That’s why they seem peculiar.”
“Maybe.” Wade couldn’t shake the belief that something was amiss with the way Laura’s emotions changed from one end of the spectrum to the other so fast. She had never thrown herself into his arms before. Hell, she had never even touched him in any way, and before the accident she had not even given him the time of day. Like most of the gentlemen in the area, he pined for her from a distance.
But there was something deep inside that told him they were meant to be together. He’d filled his time with a career as a surfman at the Little Island Life Saving Station. He had taken it to be closer to her. Throughout the years, he’d climbed up the ranks, and now held the position of Keeper. The years ticked by without as much as a hello from her. He was now thirty years old and still too reserved to approach her with anything more than a nod of recognition.
Today she had stunned him with her show of familiarity. The past week he spoke to her about the wreckage, but had no physical contact. There was no indication of any connection with her, other than a distant acquaintance. Today she acted familiar, as if they knew each other on an all together different level.
Maybe Peter’s right. Maybe it is just the strain of the shipwreck so close to home, and female emotions.
He wished it were different. He wished she were his to comfort for the rest of their lives.
Laura scooted closer to the edge of her seat so her mother could enter the carriage without mishap. She waited until the door closed before bringing up the subject that bothered her since its inception. “Are you sure it will work?”
“It has to,” Pa
rthena said. She settled in and fluffed her large, full skirt. “We need him, and we know he’s there. So there is no other option, if you want to see him again.”
Laura pulled her lips into a thin line. The plan they hatched was dicey—at best. There were so many ‘ifs’, that it made her uncomfortable. The carriage jerked, and she bounced in the seat. She snuggled deeper into the bench cushions to draw out as much warmth as possible. “I just don’t like it, Mama. He is such a nice man, and I’ve known him since school. Isn’t there any other way we can do it?”
“Well… have the couple of times you pleaded with him worked?”
“No.”
“Then there is your answer. There is no other way. It has to be like this, and it has to be now.”
“What if the false wake for Papa doesn’t work to take him away from the station? What if he doesn’t come? Then what?” Laura patted and smoothed her skirts to straighten the wrinkles.
“Then we find another way to get the Keeper drunk enough to take us to the ship… before the storm hits. If we wait any longer, your father might be swept out to sea with the storm.”
“I heard that Wade doesn’t drink anymore, Mama.”
Her mother waved her hand as if to dismiss the thought. “All men drink Laura. Where d’you hear such nonsense?”
“From Beth.”
“Well then, if he doesn’t drink liquor, then we’ll drug whatever he does drink. We can use your uncle’s opium. He’s already consented to host the false wake, so there should be no problem. A little bit of that and Mr. Alston will agree to almost anything.” Parthena’s index finger traced the bottom of her chin. “I’ve heard you can brew it in tea with the juice from lemons. Maybe we’ll try that tonight. You’ll have to serve his drinks to him, of course. Make sure you mix the opium with the tea leaves and split the amount you give him into two cups. That way he’s less likely to taste the difference.”
“What if I don’t want to deceive him?”
“What are you talking about? It’s the only way.” Her mother paused to watch her closely. “What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing.” Laura slouched in her seat. “I just… I like him, is all.” Silence stretched in the carriage, and she turned once again to see her mother’s scrutiny. “What?”
“Are you in love with him?”
“No. I’m not in love with him. Besides, he barely knows I exist.” If only he did want me, she thought, and tried desperately to hold back the need to be closer to him, to have his lips touch hers and feel his solid frame pressed against her. Earlier, when she’d thrown herself against him, she’d intended it to be an act, a ruse to get him to agree to attend the wake. In truth, she craved that closeness.
When the ship wrecked and her father didn’t come ashore with the rest of the crew, she felt devastated. Scared. Her father meant everything to her.
When Wade wrapped his arms around her in comfort a few minutes before, it was the first time she felt calm and safe—as if everything would be okay as long as he was with her.
“How long have you felt this way?”
“Since Turner School.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake Laura, you haven’t seen him since then. There’s no way you could have any deep feelings for him—especially ones that would make you feel guilty for doing what is necessary to get your father back. You were twelve, for goodness sake.”
“I’ve seen him around town since then. I just haven’t talked to him.”
Parthena faced forward and huffed. “Besides, Lord Milton is back from London. He’s courted you every time he comes into town. You need to just forget about this Keeper Alston, and focus on your father. When he is safe at home, you can focus on eliciting a proposal from the Viscount Milton.”
“Lord Milton is a pompous ass.”
The quick intake of breath made her turn to look in her mother’s direction. “Watch your language, young lady! No man wants a woman who uses foul language like that. I swear, your father spoils you. He always lets you run around wild and do whatever you wish, without regard to propriety.”
“Father doesn’t let me run around wild, but he doesn’t stifle me either.” Laura sank back and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery. “Wade would want me the way I am—if he knew I existed,” she mumbled to herself.
“Keeper Alston,” her mother accentuated the formal name, “is a nice man. I do like him, and I regret the need to deceive him. But who is more important at this point—your father or Mr. Alston?”
Tears formed in the corners of Laura’s eyes. No matter what her mother said, Wade was the one God chose for her. She could feel it in her soul. But her father was the most important person in her life. She would give up the chance at love for her father’s life.
Chapter 2
The golden glow of dozens of candles bounced off the walls and transformed the room with a warm, but sad ambiance. The room was filled with mourners. Wade walked through the large oak door in the front foyer, took off his overcoat and handed it to the servant that waited nearby. He felt out of place in the large home. It was adorned with fixtures and keepsakes that only a very wealthy man could afford.
A large sideboard stood against the far wall of what he assumed was used as a sitting room during the day, but for this event had been made into a place of mourning. A silver tray had been placed in the middle of the solid oak furniture, and servants handed out teacups full of steaming liquid. He noticed a half empty bottle of whisky partially hidden behind the silver platter.
The floral fragrance of black tea assailed his senses and made his mouth water. Various foods were on display next to the drink, but held little of his attention when he walked up to the exhibit and wrapped his fingers around the hot ceramic cup handed to him.
Side chairs lined the walls for guests. He chose a chair in the corner closest to the door, sat, and waited for the sailor’s vigil to begin. He pulled his cup to his lips and took a sip.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Alston. I began to think you forgot about tonight,” Laura’s silky voice slid through him and made his stomach churn in anticipation of her next words.
He looked into her pale, exotic face. She stood like one of those china dolls that his mother had on the washstand in her room. Her black dress fell in folds that appeared to twist around her body. The skirts, long and full, gathered in the back and left a swooping display in the front. The bodice, made to accentuate her bosom, twisted and crossed between the valley of her perfectly rounded breasts. The sleeves gathered and tied at the shoulder and swept along her upper arm in an upside down V. She looked like a dark goddess and London lady all wrapped up in one amazing display of perfection.
The color of the dress made her hair darken even more. She studies him with those green eyes that never failed to remind him of a cat. Creases formed in the corners, and her lashes fluttered.
“Were you able to find my uncle’s home without trouble?” She interrupted his reverie with her honeyed voice.
He cleared his throat. “Uh. Yes, Ma’am… thank you.”
A smile lit her face as she leaned down and peered in his drink. “Oh my. You seem to need more tea. Please, allow me.”
Huh, she sounds a tad cheerful for her father’s wake. Odd.
She plucked the cup from his hands and turned fast enough to cause her skirts to twist around her legs before they swirled back.
He watched her as she stood next to the sideboard. Heaven above, she’s beautiful. How the hell am I going to get through tonight without looking like a fool? Within seconds, she returned.
He tasted a slight hint of lemon as he tipped the cup back and drank. The zest of the citrus countered the slight bitter taste to make the flavor smooth and enjoyable. He watched her over the brim while he drank.
The chair squeaked in protest as he shifted his weight, turning to face her when she sat next to him. “Will the services begin soon?”
“Why?” she turned a soft smile to him. “Do you have somewhere
else to be?”
“No. Just curious is all.” He shifted in his chair and she did the same.
“I remember you from school,” she said. “That was before I went to the Milton Ladies Academy.”
“Yes. You sat on the third bench, next to little Beth Jones.”
“You remember?”
“Of course. How could I forget? I remember everything about you, Miss Laura.” What in the blazes was that? I’ve never been so blunt. Well, except that time at ‘The Nest’ in Chesapeake, when he was so drunk that he insulted a bar wench and she slapped him. Liquor made him say and do foolish things. God knew he’d been close to being consumed by the drink… like any good sailor. But that was before he became Keeper and straightened up. Now, the only addictions he had were work—and Laura.
He snapped his mind back to reality and watched her eyes glint. Her lips pursed in a good-humored, skeptical pout. “Everything?” she said and curved her pouted lips in a slight smile.
He nodded. “Everything.”
Her black curls slid down her left shoulder when she tilted her head. “What’s my favorite color?”
“Your favorite color is a deep purple, but I prefer emerald on you. It makes your eyes glitter like jewels.” Where the hell did that come from? When she smiled and blushed in response, his self-consciousness diminished and his courage pushed further to the surface. He’d fought violent ocean forces, put himself in danger to save a stranger, and was responsible for over a dozen men, but this woman frightened him beyond belief.
His bravery peaked even more, as if he had liquid courage. Hell, I’ve already made myself look a fool, may as well continue.
He leaned in an inch to run an appreciative eye over her body, but stopped for a brief moment at the gentle round breasts that peaked over her neckline and showed but a hint of her womanly attributes. He heard her gasp as if she just remembered to breathe and watched her chest rise with the sudden inhalation.
The Lighthouse Romance Anthology (The Life Saving Series) Page 6
