by D. F. Jones
“Australia?” Jeb wondered aloud. As soon as he spoke, he wished he hadn’t interrupted her. The fact that she was actually talking was a miracle in itself, and now that he’d made her stop, he was afraid she wouldn’t begin again.
But she did. Ann nodded, drew in a deep breath, and said, “Our navigation was poor, but honestly, it was a storm that sent us headed the wrong direction. Then, several of the crewmen became ill, and the captain decided to sail to the closest port, which by then happened to be Savannah.”
“That must have been some storm,” Jeb remarked.
Ann’s small shoulders came up sharply and then went back down. “I do not know for certain what went on. All I know is, I was the only woman aboard, and with many delays along our journey, the men were restless. When it reached my ear that we would not be disembarking in Savannah... I took matters into my own hands.”
Jeb ran his hand along his jawline, stubble scratching his palm, as he considered what she must’ve been through. He couldn’t fathom the torment of not knowing what might happen from one day to the next. “You must have been terrified of staying on the ship to face the sea head-on the way that you did.”
Ann dropped her head. “I have faced many demons these past twelve years since my parents were claimed by fever and our estates were parceled up between men all accusing my father of debts. I cannot say what has been worse—fear of strange hands on me or leaving my sisters behind.” Her mouth drew into a thin line, and Jeb knew then she was done speaking for the evening. He wished there was something he could say to take that pain away from her, to restore all that she had lost, but there was nothing in the world that could bring her parents back or return her to her sisters.
She turned her head slightly and gazed into the flickering flame of the lantern, and Jeb watched her intently. The glow from the fire lit her auburn hair and turned it to gold, illuminating her fair skin and producing a soft glow that seemed to radiate from inside of her. This exterior of stone she’d built around herself wasn’t the true Ann; he could see it in the way she spoke of those she loved most. It had been her conditions that had forced her to become hardened this way, to pretend to tower over her predators with broad shoulders that could strike them down and bear the weight of all that the world had brought crashing down upon her. But beyond that, he saw the sweet soul who longed to sit on her father’s knee and listen to tales of fancy where no one ever left and the only thing one must fear in the dark was nothing more ferocious than a mouse.
“Ann?” She turned to look at him, not speaking. “I believe the supply boat will be here in a day or two. What will you do when you reach Savannah? Do you know anyone?”
She shook her head. “I only know of the pastor at the church the parson on the ship mentioned. But I fear he will not help me.”
“Why is that?” His forehead puckered. Having been raised in the church himself, he couldn’t imagine them turning her away.
“I am a criminal.”
“They will have no way of knowing that,” he reminded her. “Assuming your ship does not return. And even if it did, I doubt the captain or anyone else would discover you survived the swim.”
Ann’s eyes shifted as she considered his words. “Perhaps.”
He cleared his throat, leaned closer. “If there is any way that I can help, believe me, I shall do so.”
She reached over and gently placed her fingers on top of his wrist. “You already have.”
Rain pelted the island, sending the smaller pebbles up into the air from the force of pellets discharged from an angry sky. Soaked to the bone, Ann hurried inside the cottage, leaving a pool of water on the floor she’d have to dry later. The brown work dress she wore, which was at least a size too big, clung to her, the skirts dripping as she made her way to the bedroom.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have attempted to check the light on her own, but Jeb had gone to Oyster Bed an hour before the storm arrived, and since she could smell the rain approaching, see the clouds forming out to sea, she decided she should make sure all was well with the light before it hit, thinking to save Jeb some trouble when he came home.
The tempest had flared more quickly than anticipated, catching her off-guard, and she’d ended up drenched in the short distance from the light to the cottage. The fact that Jeb wasn’t back from the North Channel Light yet made her breath catch and her stomach knot.
Ann unfastened her soaked gown and peeled it off and then bent to remove her boots in only her undergarments, which were also wet but not as thoroughly as the dress. Thunder boomed as a flash of lightning illuminated the darkened sky, and Ann’s heart pounded. Tossing the dress away, she rushed a few steps to the window and held the curtain aside to have a better look at the sea.
The waves were higher than she’d ever seen them before. Jeb had assured her the house was sturdier than it appeared, and despite the deceptively slow incline, no waves had ever breached the house in all the years he’d lived there. In the past thirteen days, he’d told many stories about storms he’d weathered, and Ann had been confident she was safe. Until the moment when she looked out at a tumultuous sea and wondered where he might be.
With any luck, he was safe in the lighthouse at Oyster Bed and hadn’t yet struck out for home when the rain started. But if that were the case, it would mean he took much more time on the light than normal. She hadn’t prayed much in the last twelve years, but she said one now, that he would be safe, that he wasn’t out on the angry Atlantic.
Thoughts of Jeb fighting the angry current had her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Never had she met such a man as Jebediah Miller. Not only was he strikingly handsome, but he had a kind heart; he was a good soul. She saw it in the gentle way he lent aid to a baby bird struggling to make the long flight back to the mainland, the patient way he taught her to care for the lights, the way he spoke of his family in Savannah. At first, his chatter had been wearisome, but soon enough, she began to take comfort in the sound of his tenor, the way he pronounced certain words in his American accent. A brush of his hand against hers, the warmth of his shoulder when they bumped while cleaning the windows in the lighthouse, the feel of his eyes as they caressed her face, every innocent touch served as kindling to ignite a flame inside of her, one that longed to discover what it might be like to have those strong arms wrapped around her, that voice whispering in her ear that all was well, that she needn’t fear ever being alone again. While Ann had the impression he was intrigued by her as well, she hadn’t found a way to break down the walls she’d built around her heart when Jon Answhiler had proven himself to be nothing more than a heinous monster who wanted to torment her sisters more than he wanted to make her his wife.
Ann dropped the curtain and went to the trunk Jeb had brought her to collect dry clothing. She laid a light blue dress on the foot of the bed and inspected the only other chemise and pair of drawers she had found in the chest. They would also be a bit too large, but they would work. She’d patched the hole in her own stocking, so she could put those back on since the ones she was currently wearing were drenched. She worked those off as another flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Ann wasn’t afraid of the storm, but she did fear Jeb was caught in it.
Her chemise was up over her head when she heard the door to the cabin open. Ann pulled it off and brought it to her chest, holding it and her breath. She recognized Jeb’s footsteps and was thankful he was home safe, but before she could answer his call of her name, the bedroom door opened.
She had her back to him, but in the mirror across the room, she watched as he realized he’d walked in on her in a state of undress. His eyes enlarged, and his mouth dropped open. She felt his gaze as it rounded her curves, not much left to the imagination in her damp knickers, and as his eyes climbed her bare back to meet hers in the mirror, Ann’s breath stuttered in her throat.
“I apologize.” His voice was a whisper. “I was not thinking clearly. I should have... knocked.”
But Ann saw more in his e
xpression than his words were disclosing. In the narrowing of blue sapphires, the way his nostrils flared slightly as if his lungs were no longer filling completely, stunted by a blazing heat rising up from deep within him. She recognized the want in his countenance because it matched the craving she’d been repressing deep inside of her all these days—until that moment.
Ann dropped the wet chemise, his gasp of surprise morphing to an aw of wonder as she turned to face him.
He closed the distance, his mouth was on hers, and Ann parted her lips greedily, her hand tangling in his wet hair and pulling him down as she raised herself to meet him. His hands were on her, one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, the other igniting her flesh as he caressed her breast, his fingers dancing over her hardened peak and fanning the flame inside her. A soft moan escaped her, and the fever to feel more of him against her had her grappling to unfasten his shirt, her hands gliding across the wet fabric that hugged the chiseled surface of his chest.
Jeb released her only long enough to rip his shirt off. A flurry of pulling and straining against soaked material ensued as Ann’s hands ravaged the rippling muscles of his abdomen, fighting his belt and trousers to free him of their restriction while he struggled to remove his boots and damp stockings without his hands leaving her for too long, never releasing her swollen lips.
Once he was completely undressed, Jeb slipped one hand into the waist of her knickers, pulling them down as he lifted her bare bottom with the other so that she was free as well, and then he swiftly moved her to the bed.
Her heart racing, Ann closed her eyes and breathed him in; his familiar scent tangled with fresh rain and perspiration was intoxicating, and the feel of his warm lips carving a trail down her neck, his hands bringing her flesh to life as they smoothed the curve of her hip, traced the delicate skin between her thighs, had her breathless and heady.
No longer able to contain her desire, Ann pressed down on Jeb’s muscular back, bringing her hips up to meet him. Fully immersed inside of her, Jeb moaned in pleasure, and Ann joined in, her hands exploring his magnificent physique while she reveled in each measured stroke that kept her at the edge of euphoria.
Ann lost herself completely, tumbling over the cliff of elation, her thoughts jumbled except for the ever-present thought that she was in safe harbor now, that the man who shielded her from the storm would be her protector, her lifeline, no matter how many of the walls she’d built to shield her heart came crumbling down around her. They finished together, but Jeb was not quick to move aside, continuing to kiss her, caress her, for what seemed like hours.
Later, as the lightning flickered out the window, Ann lay wrapped in a quilt, her head on his strong chest as his fingertips smoothed her cheek and pressed back her damp hair. “I want you to stay,” Jeb whispered. “I am not sure what we will tell the others when they bring supplies, but we can sort it out.”
Glancing up into deep oceans of blue, she saw her own emotions reflected in his eyes, but fear settled in around her heart. “You do not even know me, Jeb. What if... what if I am not who you think I am?”
“I do know you, Ann.” His face lit with a smile that told her he spoke the truth. “I see you, who you really are. I do not need to know the details of your past, or even your surname, to know that you and I belong together. I want you to stay, Ann. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The words escaped her lips without care, their truth overpowering her resolve to keep up the last façade of indifference around her heart.
Jeb kissed her lightly on the forehead, and Ann closed her eyes, nestling against his chest. As she drifted off to sleep, she whispered, “Keaton.”
“What was that?” Jeb asked, his voice also groggy with sleep.
“Keaton. Ann Keaton.”
“Ann Keaton... Miller.” Jeb’s voice drifted off. “I like it.”
“Me, too.” She fell asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in as long as she could remember.
Ann awoke to the sound of Jeb frantically getting dressed. Flashes of lightning illuminated the room, and she could see him tucking his shirt into his trousers, then grabbing his boots and shoving his stockinged feet into them.
Her eyes blurry from sleep, Ann stretched. “What is it? What is happening?”
“There is a ship,” he said, his voice trembling with concern. “It is in trouble. I saw the mast a few moments ago when the thunder shook the island, and now, when the lightning flashes, I see nothing.”
Ann sat straight up, fully awake now. She hadn’t heard the rumble he mentioned, but the idea that he was going out into the storm to attempt to rescue endangered sailors caused her pulse to race. “You cannot go out there, Jeb. It is too dangerous.”
“I have to,” he replied, pulling a coat on over his shirt. “It is my duty.”
Shooting out of bed, Ann scrambled for her own clothing, only slightly noticing how he gaped at her naked form as the lightning exposed her. “Then I am going with you.”
“Ann, no, I cannot let you do that.”
“Of course you can.” She already had her undergarments on, but rather than reach for her dress, she moved to the dresser where he kept his clothing, thinking that would be more practical. “If you insist on going, so do I.”
“Ann....”
She had his shirt on over her head and was pushing into his trousers. “You said you knew me, Jebediah Miller. If that is the case, why are you bothering to argue?” She stared at him, waiting for the lightning to show the conviction in her eyes.
“You have a point,” he said, and Ann finished dressing, putting on her boots and taking a coat he offered her. “I do not like this.”
“Neither do I,” she reminded him, and they set off for the stormy sea.
The wind blew the rain so hard, each drop felt like a piece of glass embedding into her flesh. Ann got into the rowboat with Jeb, praying neither of them died in this endeavor and thinking she’d made a poor decision. He didn’t untie the boat, though, and she noticed the rope was much longer than she would’ve thought. “We can only go this far,” he shouted over the waves and rain. Ann nodded.
Pushing out to sea was a difficult task, but it didn’t take long for Ann to see the broken mast of a ship bobbing on the water, pieces of debris floating around the area marking the spot where the ship had given in to the battering of the waves. The ship itself was farther out to sea than she’d realized from the cottage, but the remnants were lofted closer to them with each swell, and if there were any survivors, she imagined they’d see them soon.
It wasn’t until they were at the end of the rope that Ann realized the mast was a familiar one. A sickening feeling settled in her stomach as she considered who they were attempting to rescue—the very men who’d tortured her night and day for months.
At first, Ann didn’t see any survivors, not until after she heard shouts from one of the larger pieces of floating timber and realized a man was clinging to it. He was out of reach, but as the waves brought him closer, Ann peered through the driving rain, keeping her hands locked on the sides of the boat, and recognized his face.
“Pastor Thomas!” she shouted as Jeb did his best to steer the boat closer while keeping from falling out.
Jeb turned his head. “You will have to steady the boat while I grab hold of him!”
Ann had no idea how she would manage with the waves and wind knocking them around, but she agreed and watched as Jeb secured the paddles to the side of the boat and then strained to reach Pastor Thomas’s outstretched hand.
With each swell, Ann threw her full weight on one side of the vessel or the other to keep it afloat and upright. The two hands finally connected as Ann used every ounce of strength to keep the boat steady. Pastor Thomas fell into the bottom of the rowboat, sucking in air, and Jeb scanned the area for more survivors.
Seeing no one, he unhooked the paddles and started rowing back toward shore, but Ann knew he wouldn’t be able to manage to get them home safely in this sort of
turbulence with only the paddles. With a deep breath, she spun herself around and grabbed for the rope. In the driving rain and the rising waves, it was difficult to see. Her hands raked through the water, sliding down the side of the boat until she made contact with the rough texture of hemp. Ann grabbed hold and strained to pull the vessel back toward the safety of the island.
The rope bit into her hands, leaving them bleeding and raw. Salty ocean water stung as the waves sprayed over the side of the ship, contacting the open wounds. Ann didn’t think about the pain, only about getting Jeb and the pastor out of danger. Every muscle in her arms ached with strain, and when she thought she could pull no more, she heard the scraping sound of the boat hitting shale.
Jeb flew out of the boat, helping the pastor while Ann managed to pull herself onto shore. The rain pounded them, waves threatening to rip them back out to sea, but they managed to get the rowboat out of the troubled water, and together, they moved Pastor Thomas to the solace of the cottage, out of the storm.
The pastor was weak, coughing and sputtering, but eternally thankful. They managed to get him warm and dry and tucked into bed before Jeb went back out to check the light and make sure there were no more survivors, though he promised not to go back into the water.
Inside, by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, Ann thought of the men who’d perished that night and couldn’t help but reflect on the idea that vengeance truly was the Lord’s. She had helped to rescue the man who had kept her safe all those months, and in her heart, she felt his presence on the island was a true sign that she was meant to marry Jeb, a task the pastor could easily perform once he was well.
