The Lightkeeper's Daughter (11 page)

A stone lodged somewhere in Addie’s midsection as John helped her down from the buckboard. The sea breeze tugged at her hair, and she lifted her face to the salty tang on the wind. The temperature along the northern California coast ranged from fifty-five degrees in the winter to sixty-eight in the summer, but the sun heated the sand under her feet even on the coolest day. Today the air was close to seventy.

Edward raced after Gideon, who ran into the white caps rolling to the shore. Could Mr. Driscoll be right? She didn’t want to believe John might have orchestrated the attack on them, but it made sense. Who else stood to lose so much if her identity became known? But how could he possibly know?

She chose not to believe it. Not until she could verify his lack of integrity.

John retrieved the basket of food, the quilt, and the toys from the back of the buckboard. “You’re wearing a serious frown,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

“Are you a philanderer, Lieutenant North?”

His brows rose, and he laughed. “You’re a constant surprise, Addie. What a question. Is this a joke?”

“I’m quite serious,” she said, grabbing her hat when the wind threatened to send it tumbling across the sand.

His grin faded. “Why would you ask such an insulting question?”

She dug the toe of her shoe into the sand. “I meant no insult. I have no experience with men. I thought perhaps . . .”

“You thought I was toying with your emotions.”

She nodded. The dark intensity in his eyes made her shiver. This was no cold, passionless man, but one who felt things deeply. His lips flattened, and his nostrils flared. His eyes sparked with some emotion she couldn’t name. Then it winked out as his control tightened.

When he smiled, it was a cold grimace. “I like you, Miss Sullivan. Do you think I play with your emotions because I want to become better acquainted?” he asked.

“Not unless your intentions are less than honorable.”

He shifted the basket in his hand. “Less than honorable. I doubt you even know what it means for a man to behave dishonorably toward a woman.”

She tipped her chin up. “My knowledge of such things might be a bit vague, but there’s no need to mock me. I grew up around animals. I know what should be reserved for marriage.”

The darkness behind his eyes lightened, and his lips curved in a genuine smile. A bark of laughter escaped. “We don’t dare turn you loose in town. You’ll tell the mayor he’s too fat.”

“Is he?”

He grinned. “He weights four hundred pounds or more.”

“Maybe someone should tell him.”

All trace of anger was gone from his face. “You’re one of a kind, Miss Adeline Sullivan. The Eaton family may never be the same after your sojourn with us. No one says what they mean in that house. I’m afraid I’ve become accustomed to it.” He glanced toward his son, who was throwing a ball for the dog. “Let’s get our things settled.” He turned his back on her and strode across the sand with his burden.

The wind tore the hat from his head and sent it sailing straight at Addie. She snagged it in midair. He slipped in the sand, then his legs flew out from under him, and he landed on his backside. The items he carried scattered in a circle around him. She gasped and ran to help. A seagull cawed overhead, and a white blob dropped. It landed squarely on the shoulder of John’s jacket.

Addie stopped, observing first the mess on his suit, then the sand on his pants. His face reddened, but she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. His lip curled when he spied the bird droppings on his jacket.

A giggle erupted from Addie’s lips. And another one. “I’m sorry,” she gasped through her laughter. “But if you could see your face. Such disgust. It’s only a little offering from the gull to show his affection.”

He stood before she reached him and bent to brush the sand from his trousers. “I think you were more deserving of that deposit from the gull.”

Her giggles rose again, and she squelched them. She pulled her hankie from the inside of her sleeve at her wrist and stood on tiptoe while she dabbed at the gunk on his jacket.

His fingers caught hers. His intense gaze held her in place. “I should like to take you to dinner one night. Would that be acceptable?”

“Yes,” she said, struggling to maintain her composure. “I would like that very much.”

His grip tightened. “They’ll try to change you, Addie. I should dislike to see that happen.”

“Who will?”

“The Eaton family. Society. They’ll shush you when you speak your mind.” His hand went to a loose curl hanging down her back. “They’ll tell you it’s more proper to put your hair up.”

“Mrs. Eaton already suggested I wear my hair up when she saw me with it down.” Warmth gathered in her midsection at his touch. “I’m sure there are many things I need to learn.”

He leaned close enough for his breath to mingle with the salt air that caressed her skin. “I like you just the way you are.” His hand trailed from her hair to her cheek. “Promise me you won’t change.”

“How can I promise such a thing? God wants each of us to grow.”

“Let’s have a talk with him and ask him not to mess with perfection.”

She managed to find enough moisture in her mouth to swallow. If he didn’t take his hand from her cheek, she was going to throw herself into his arms. If there wasn’t such a thing as love at first sight, she was in so much trouble.

E
LEVEN

A
DDIE’S HANDKERCHIEF DID
little to remove the gull doo on John’s jacket. He’d long since removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Popcorn clouds filled the blue bowl of sky overhead. He reclined on the blanket and watched Addie splash through the whitecaps with Edward in her arms, both of them squealing at the cold waves. The dog chased them both.

“Come in with us,” she called.

The moist sea air caused her auburn locks to curl. The thought that there might be an opportunity to kiss that smiling pink mouth nearly prompted him to obey. The slim tights of her swimming costume showed off the shape of her legs, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She put Edward down, then stood with her hands on her hips. “Roll up your trousers. At least let the waves break at your ankles.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” John said. He grinned. “Besides, don’t you know that sailors drown in an inch of water?”

“Coward!” She staggered out of the sea, then paused to wring the water from her skirt.

He stood as she neared. She smelled enticingly of brine and seaweed, an intoxicating scent to a man who loved the sea. It was all he could do not to nuzzle his face in her neck and kiss her smooth skin.

“I’m quite starving,” she said. “What do we have for lunch?”

He forced himself to step to the lunch hamper and peer inside. “Egg salad sandwiches, cranberry scones, and apples. A veritable feast.”

She dropped onto the blanket. “I might eat the whole thing.”

Edward and Gideon frolicked on the sand. Edward kicked a ball, and the dog ran to pounce on it. She lifted the plates of sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. The kitchen maid had packed enough scones to feed an army.

“Edward, your luncheon is ready,” she called.

Had John ever seen Edward so happy and carefree? The boy’s curls were tousled, and his cheeks were as red as the apples Addie was lifting from the basket. She’d been good for his son. The dog had helped too. It was amazing how confident they all felt in the dog’s presence. If not for Gideon, John would have been fearful of allowing Edward in the water.

He could do worse than courting Addie. The thought came out of the blue, but he quickly realized he was getting ahead of himself. But he acknowledged his willingness to go where this relationship might lead.

Henry and Clara would be gone tonight. When Edward was in bed, John might be able to get to know the intriguing Adeline Sullivan a little better. When was the last time he’d been this interested in a woman? Not since Katherine, he realized. And maybe that should be a warning to him.

But no. His relationship with Katherine had been a very different situation. She’d flirted, then backed off, then flirted and backed off again. She’d played a cat-and-mouse game that led to marriage before he realized what was happening. She’d offered her family name and beauty to escape an older suitor her father had selected, and John snapped it up because he thought she really loved him. Reality had soon set in.

This young woman was different. He bit into his sandwich. “There is no subterfuge in you, Miss Adeline. Why is that?”

Color came and went in her cheeks. “Everyone has layers. Even me.”

He leaned closer as his son neared and allowed a curl to wrap his finger. “I look forward to peeling back those layers.”

Her blush was charming. What would she think of living on a naval base?

Addie glanced at John a few times as the buggy pulled away from the beach. Edward and Gideon slept as they traveled back toward town. “Thank you for a lovely day,” she said.

“The pleasure was all mine.”

Lassitude encased her limbs, and her eyes were heavy. The next thing she knew, she heard voices call and the rumble of more buggies. She opened her eyes to find her head resting on John’s shoulder as the buggy rolled through Mercy Falls.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, startled. After she jerked upright, she brushed her hair out of her face.

He smiled at her. “I didn’t mind.”

Heat seared her cheeks, and she turned, pretending to scrutinize the stores and shops they passed rather than his amused eyes. Ahead, Mr. Driscoll stepped from the darkness of an alley onto the street and approached a woman who was holding a baby. “There’s Mr. Driscoll,” she said. She called out to him and waved. He flinched at the sound of his name but waved back when he caught sight of them.

“He should take care in that neighborhood,” John said. “If a fellow is going to get mugged, it would be there. Thugs and gamblers haunt these streets.”

“He’s probably delivering medicine to someone,” she said.

“It’s no place for a woman and infant. He should escort her home.”

They left town and entered the coolness of the forest. She smelled wildflowers and the scent of deep woods. The trees were so high and the trunks so big that all she could do was stare. She would never get used to it. “Is this virgin forest?” she asked.

“Yep. One of the last tracts left.”

The beauty and serenity of the place drew her. The branches nearly touched the blue sky. “Why is it still unlogged?”

“Laura’s grandfather left it to her daughter, Julia. When the child died, it went to Clara, and she signed it over to Edward. So this will be Edward’s as soon as the paperwork declaring Julia deceased comes through.”

Addie’s throat convulsed. He was talking about her. This land belonged to her. She couldn’t take it in. “So it belongs to Edward now? Or will soon?”

He nodded. “I intend to use it to increase Edward’s net worth.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t decided. I’ve had a lucrative offer from a logging company, but it seems a shame to destroy something so beautiful.”

In her mind’s eye, Addie saw a lovely home for tuberculosis patients in a grove surrounded by clean air and nature. For someone like Nann Whittaker. If Roy Sullivan hadn’t had the stress of the lighthouse, he might have recovered from his illness in a place like she envisioned, with paths for the patients to walk and babbling streams to nap beside. Such a pipe dream. Where would she find money for something like that?

“I would hate for it to be ruined,” she said.

“I must be practical.” He picked up the reins again. “We’d better be getting home.”

“What time is it?” She tried to gauge the sun, but it was behind clouds.

He pulled out a gold pocket watch. “Nearly three.”

Addie held to the side of the seat as the buggy made a turn onto the paved road. “Is Henry’s birthday ball terribly exciting?”

John slapped the reins on the horse’s rump, and the animal broke into a trot. “It’s the most boring affair of the year, but Henry likes the illusion of a happy family gathered to celebrate.”

“You sound as though you don’t like him.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I admire him, and he’s been good to me. But his demands can be hard to deal with.”

“Demands? About Edward?”

“He thinks he owns my son.” He slanted a smile her way. “I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

She laid her gloved hand on top of his. “It’s already clear to me that no one owns you, Lieutenant. You are the kind of man a woman can depend on with her life.”

“I haven’t had very good luck with relationships,” he said. “Women seem to put a lot of stock in money and property. I’m not very good at figuring out the gold diggers.”

“I don’t care about money.” But would he believe that when he learned the land he wanted for Edward belonged to her? She might give it back to him, but not if he would sell it. There were bigger and better things to do with it. She studied him. “Your wife, Katherine,” she said. “How long has she been gone?”

His shoulders tensed. “About three years. She was struck by a streetcar in San Francisco. Typical Katherine, she was trying to beat the vehicle across the street.”