Gillian: Bride of Maine (American Mail-Order Bride 23) (12 page)

“It’ll keep. After we see to your bath, I’ll check the oil.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Charlie will be here soon, probably followed by Deacon and Alice.”

“How do you know that?”

“They’ll have seen the fire and will come to make sure we’re all right. We take care of each other here.”

“Then I’ll do as you say.”

“Right. Let’s get your bath, so you can soak before help arrives.”

Gillian gave a slow nod. She brushed her mouth over his in a soft kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Thank you for all you’ve done this night.”

He cringed at the way it sounded as though he thanked her for killing her own father. She didn’t say any more, but shuffled upstairs. He watched her and frowned as her shoulders rounded, and her steps were heavy as though a great boulder rested on her head and weighed her down. He cursed himself for the hateful words he’d tossed out in rage. He was frustrated and enraged at Nulton for thinking he could burn the sloop and Rhys would hand over Gillian. Nulton could burn the whole of Maine to pile of coals; Rhys wouldn’t let Gillian walk on the same side of the street as the blackguard.

He shrugged. The man didn’t matter now; he was dead. It wasn’t charitable to just shrug another life away, but he wasn’t feeling charitable at the moment. When he heard Gillian in the kitchen, he removed his feet from the basin. Rhys retrieved the large washtub and set it in front of the fire to keep Gillian and the water as warm as possible since he’d wash up after she finished.

Gillian brought in a bucket of water from the pump and Rhys went to retrieve another while the water to heat the bath boiled on the iron stove. She didn’t speak once as they worked together filling the tub until it was the right temperature.

She turned her back to him and he dutifully unbuttoned her dress. “Are your hands and feet warm, Rhys? Tell me the truth.”

“I’m fine, Gillian, truly. You got me to the house and cared for me quickly and thoroughly.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Are you all right,
ma petit
e, about your father?”

“Yes.”

The hollow void in her once vibrant voice twisted his insides. “Gillian, don’t start hiding things from me now.”

She stepped from him and continued to undress. “I’m not, I just can’t speak of any of it tonight, Rhys. I feel empty.”

Rhys wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “All right, we’ll leave talking for tomorrow and simply warm and fill the dark places in each other tonight.”

Lifting his hands, she placed a kiss on each palm. He didn’t turn from her as she stripped and sank into the tub. Her eyelids slid closed, and her lips parted in a deep sigh. Wee Jacques flopped by the side of the tub, and she absently stroked the wolf’s head.

Rhys continued to look at the woman who’d come to be his world in such a short time. If she was only beautiful on the outside, he could dismiss her and walk away to tend the light. The source of Gillian’s beauty came from her heart and soul. It shined through her smile and in the sparks of light in her dark eyes. Tonight the light was dim. He was thankful Charlie and Deacon would be coming to tend the lighthouse. Rhys needed to tend to his wife, so she could shine again.

‡

S
unlight sliced through
a gap in the bedroom curtains, and Gillian groaned. It should be cloudy and dreary outside to fit her mood. Rhys had stayed with her through the night. He’d held her tight to him, not demanding she share her feelings, but just held her. When he had to get up and check on Charlie and Deacon, he’d kissed her thoroughly and reminded her nothing was her fault.

How could she believe such a thing? The
Femme Rouge
was nothing but a burnt shell. Edgar Nulton was dead, and Rhys had almost been killed. Nothing on the list she drew in her mind would have happened if she wasn’t there. She wasn’t sorry for leaving the Nulton household, but she should never have chosen a man from Maine. It was the greatest folly to believe she could sneak Downeast and Nulton wouldn’t hear of it, or that they wouldn’t cross paths.

She pushed back the heavy bedding and forced her legs over the side. Washing and dressing, she rejected the terrible truth of where her thoughts were leading. If she had chosen a different advertisement to answer, she would never have known Rhys. She was sure there were many fine men in other parts of the country, but none would be the other half of her heart.

The sound of visitors’ low voices in the dining room drew her there first when she made her way downstairs.

She gave a small gasp of surprise. “Father McDonald?”

“There you are, my dear. I thought you intended to sleep the day away.”

Rhys stood and pulled out a chair for her. “She’d deserve to. Would you like some breakfast?”

“I can…”

He motioned to the chair. “Alice left a plate warming on the stove. I’ll get it for you, if you’ve a mind to eat.”

“Yes, please. Is Alice gone?”

Rhys gave a short nod. “She and Deacon left at nine o’clock. Young Charlie is still here to help with the light tonight.”

“Nine?” Gillian craned her neck to see the clock on the mantle in the living room. “Ten thirty! Rhys, you should have woken me. This is shameful.”

“Sit, Gillian. Like I said, you deserved the rest. You didn’t sleep much during the night.”

“Neither did you, and faced greater hardship than I did. You managed to face the world at a decent hour.”

His scowl was deep. “I’m not going to argue the point, wife. Sit down and I’ll get your breakfast.”

She relented and slid into the chair, sending Father McDonald a weak grin. “I’m sorry, Father; you didn’t come here to witness Rhys and I arguing.”

“Not much of an argument, if you ask me. Why, Addie and Willard Channing can go at each other like two cats with their tales tied together. And the language? Heaven’s sake, it makes what can be heard at the docks sound like baby’s babble.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the priest’s tale. “Thank you, Father, but I am sorry.”

A plate of eggs, ham, potatoes and toast was placed in front of her. Then a jar of blueberry jam was set beside the plate.

“Alice brought the jam. Said we needed something sweet.”

She smiled at Rhys. “Thank you, Rhys, and I’m sorry for snapping at you when you were just trying to be considerate.”

“It’s done, Gillian. Eat.”

She began eating her breakfast, focusing on the toast and jam. Rhys and Father McDonald fell back into conversation about the fire and what Rhys would be doing for transportation and a rescue vessel. The memory of his words sent a cold chill over her shoulders and they shook. Rhys didn’t break in his conversation, but wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“The Father’s been telling me there’s a man with a sloop in Bass Harbor who might be willing to sell the vessel cheap or even give it away. He used to be a lobsterman, but decided to seek employment at the cannery.”

A small hope burned in her chest. “That would be wonderful, Father. When can we know?”

“I’ll visit with Harry when I return to Bass Harbor.” Father McDonald cleared his throat. “Gillian, Edgar Nulton’s body was found this morning. It had been pushed ashore up the coast a bit.”

She placed the fork down and cut her gaze from Father McDonald to Rhys and back to the priest. “I have a terrible confession, Father.”

“What is that, child?”

“I have no feeling about his loss. I must be the most sinful woman, but no matter how I try, I cannot conjure any sense of grief, relief or even joy in his loss. I didn’t hate him Father, truly I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything for him…at all. I only saw he meant to hurt Rhys and reacted.”

Father McDonald hitched an eyebrow, then his face relaxed. He wasn’t smiling or frowning, just absorbing her words. “I don’t believe you’re any more or less sinful than any of us, Gillian. I believe Edgar Nulton died as your father many years ago. As for what happened last night, Rhys and I have spoken with the constable, and the record shows Nulton slipped on the rocks and fell into the sea after his act of arson against the
Femme Rouge
.”

She turned her gaze to Rhys. “But that’s a lie. I pushed him; you saw me push him.”

Rhys held her hands between his. “And that’s exactly what I told the constable, along with my confrontation with Nulton. He insisted this was the best way, not to deceive anyone, but this way, Miriam can’t come after you. Not that I think she would.”

“Why?”

“If I know anything about Miriam Nulton it’s that she married for money, and now she can be alone with her one true love.” Rhys’ grip on her hand tightened. “But if you weren’t upset about Nulton, then why have I lost a part of you?”

“Because I acted to save you Rhys, to keep you with me, and then you were gone. For his sake you left me.” She took one of his hands and laid it on her belly. “You left us. I couldn’t stand the thought of life without you. My heart and mind shattered.”

She moved her hand, but Rhys kept his where she’d placed it. “A baby, Gillian? You’re giving me a child?”

She rested her hand back on his. “I’m not giving you anything. You helped.”

A throat clearing sent both their gazes to the priest. “I believe I should leave…”

Gillian waved away Father McDonald’s concerns. “No, you had a part, too.”

“I most certainly did
not
.”

Rhys joined her in her laughter. “I mean without you and the villagers sending those letters and you choosing me, we wouldn’t have met.”

The priest’s shoulders relaxed, but he continued to stand. “Well, I still think this is a time for a husband and wife to celebrate alone. I’ll just go check on Charlie. I will say this: I hoped, but never let myself believe that this union would be as strong as I see it’s become. I believe a greater hand than mine was at work here to be sure.”

After Father McDonald left the room, Gillian smiled at Rhys, his hand still shielding their child. “I wanted to tell you last night over hot chocolate.”

“I’ll take this news anytime. I should never have left you on those rocks alone.”

“I shouldn’t have overreacted. I know saving lives is your job, but he’d just tried to kill you. I couldn’t understand why you’d choose his life and risk your own.”

He shrugged. “It was a life. Despicable as he was, Edgar Nulton was a life.”

“You must think me a monster for showing so little concern.”

He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I think you’re a woman who loves her husband,
mon ange
. I’m thankful for it. Did you mean to kill him?”

“Absolutely not. I meant to knock him off balance so he’d lose the pistol.”

His smile held no joy. “Exactly. It was you who warned me against confronting him to begin with. None of us were wise when we met on those rocks.”

“No, it was a nightmare from start to finish.”

Rhys nodded. The
nightmare was even more so with news his pregnant wife had fought a fire and had been running along the slick coastal rock. She could have lost the baby. Worse, he could have lost her.

A cool palm caressed his cheek, bringing him back to the present. “It seems I’ve lost you, now.”

He leaned away from her touch when he ached to lean into it. “It’s been a long morning.”

“Rhys, you asked me last night not to start keeping things from you. I’m asking the same of you now. I saw the fear and hurt in your eyes.”

He stood and walked over to the window facing inland. Nothing remained of the
Femme Rouge
, and what little had survived, he and some men from the village disposed of that morning. He still didn’t want to look over the empty boat landing.

“I didn’t know you were carrying my child.”

She moved to stand beside him, and he focused on their reflection in the window. They appeared to be a couple who had been together many years. The truth was, they’d been together only a few months.

Gillian rested a hand on his arm. “I know. But it wouldn’t have changed anything. I still would have helped with the fire, and you still would have done what you were made to do.”

He frowned. “You won’t help with the lighthouse as much.”

She smiled. “Yes, I will.”

The lines on his forehead deepened. “You’ll rest and won’t do so much around the house.”

Her smile grew and she snuggled closer. “When I’m many months along and need rest, I will. But I will continue to care for you and our home. Except dusting…there might be a bit of dust gathering over these seven months.”

He turned then and gripped her arms. “How can you smile and joke about this?”

She leaned forward and surprised him by dropping a kiss on his nose. “Because I love you, Rhys, and you’re here with me. That did not change throughout the dark hours of last night and this morning. And your love for me hasn’t changed. It could have, you know. We could be farther apart this morning.” She stepped closer and broke from his grip. Her arms looped his neck, so her soft curves melted against his hard angles. “Instead, we seem very close.”

He cupped her face with his hands and examined her dark eyes. “You’re coming back to me. What happened?”