Love's Rescue (29 page)

Yet the verse would not leave her. The sand shone like the sun, pure and white.

In her dream she had walked barefoot. What would it hurt to do so now? She sat on the grass and removed her shoes. Only then did she step onto the sand. It burned against the soles of her feet. The physical pain felt better than what she had endured of late. Father’s betrayal. Anabelle’s secret. Rourke’s departure, his fingers slipping from her hand. She touched his ring where it rested against her throat. What good was a pledge that could never be fulfilled?

“Why?” she cried to the sky and the screeching gulls. “Why must I be separated forever from the man I love? Why would my own father do such horrible things? What can take away this pain?”

Heat. It purified. Laundry must boil. Drinking water must boil. This heat burning her feet would scorch away the guilt and the anger and the despair. She stood until the heat brought tears to her eyes, but no peace came.

Everyone insisted she must forgive in order to continue.
Mother forgave Father. Rourke forgave her. So did Charlie. That was what he had been trying to tell her.

Forgive
us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

She had repeated the Lord’s Prayer every Sunday yet never grasped the significance—and difficulty—of those words. To be forgiven, we must forgive.

To receive forgiveness, she must forgive. Not some things. Not just those who treated her well. Everyone. Even Father.

Her limbs trembled at the enormity of the task. She sank to her knees and looked up into the endless blue sky. “I am not able.”

I am
not worthy
, Father had written.

Neither was she. Charlie, Rourke, and even Anabelle had forgiven her when she did not deserve it. All had suffered for her actions.

“I am not worthy,” she choked out. It hurt, yet it also healed.

Those first words led to more and more. There, on sacred ground, she poured out her heart to her one true Father. Her hurts and resentments, her transgressions, her selfish desires. All of it.

He listened. He did not turn His face. He did not run from her the way she had run from Him. She prayed until there was nothing left inside but silence. Even then she continued to kneel. The wind whispered. Gulls called out. As the warmth soaked through her skirts and into her knees, she knew what she must do. The answer came not with the whisper of a breeze but with the roar of a gale.

She took a deep, rattling breath. “Papa, I forgive you.” The words tasted bitter as salt water.

She tried again. “I forgive you, Papa.”

How many times must she say this until it didn’t hurt? The
Bible said seven times seventy. Four hundred and ninety. She would perish first.

Nevertheless, she said it again. “Father, I forgive you.” Over and over until the words blurred and her throat dried. Only then, deep, deep inside, did something resembling peace take root. She couldn’t explain it, but the anger was gone.

She dropped to the ground, exhausted, and lay there looking up at the wide blue sky. Like a frigate bird, Rourke had soared beyond her grasp. Maybe one day he would return, silent on the breeze.

She drew a breath and sat up. It was time to go home. She began putting on her shoes when a schooner caught her attention as it sailed toward the harbor. It must have approached from her left, yet she had not seen it until now. The ship’s sails were filled, and she maintained a swift speed, faster even than the
Windsprite
. Her rakish lines reminded Elizabeth of the ships built in the Bahamas.

The Bahamas! Perhaps it would return there. Perhaps she could go to Rourke after all.

She tugged on her shoes and hurried toward town. A gust of wind blew the straw hat from her head. She reached for it, but it flew off into the ocean. By the time she passed the lighthouse, her hair had fallen from its pins. She didn’t stop to fix it. At the ship’s rate of speed, it would reach the harbor well before she did. She must speak to the captain before he left the ship. She must get passage to Harbour Island.

Little did she care that her hair flowed loose and her hem gathered dust. Her prayers had been answered. She would go to Rourke.

She reached the edge of the harbor at the very moment the new schooner came about to head alongside a wharf. Some
crew members lowered sail while others readied the mooring lines. Two men stood at the helm. One wore an uncharacteristic gentleman’s dark suit and top hat. The other, tall and dark and barefoot, looked very much like . . .

Impossible!

She danced along the docks, trying to get a better look. Could it be? He sported a dark blue coat that she’d never seen before. He even wore a black cocked hat like a naval officer. No, it couldn’t be. She must be mistaken.

Still, she waited, breath bated, hoping against hope that her eyes were not deceiving her.

At last the ship turned enough so she could see him.

Rourke! He had returned.

He spotted her, and a smile stretched across his face. Then the man in the suit turned to face her.

Father.

Her spirits plummeted. The only reason Father would be with Rourke on a new ship was to bring him to justice.

“No!” The cry wrenched from her. She clung to a dock post, shaking.

Then her father lifted his hat in a salute. He clapped Rourke on the back and swept his arms in an encompassing circle.

What on earth? Rourke did not act like a man condemned. No, he smiled and appeared completely at ease talking to her father. To all appearances, they had reconciled, though how that had been accomplished and why they were on a strange new vessel mystified her. Nothing in her father’s prior actions would ever lead her to believe such a thing possible. Nothing except those scrawled words:
I am not worthy.

Could a man change that much in a matter of weeks? Elizabeth struggled against doubt.

The schooner slipped into its berth. The crew moored the ship with expertise. Several of the men looked familiar from the
Windsprite
. None of this made sense.

The crew extended the gangway, and only one man disembarked. Father. He walked straight toward her.

She stepped back, fearing what he would say yet knowing she could not avoid it. That was part of forgiveness.

He stopped before her. “Dear Elizabeth.” He cleared his throat and looked at the ship, as if drawing courage from someone aboard.

She followed his gaze and saw Rourke directing the opening of the hatches from his perch on the quarterdeck. He looked her way and nodded.

“Elizabeth.” Her father mopped his brow. “I did you great harm. Unforgivable.” His shoulders shook. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t ask it. I thought I was preserving your future, giving you safety and comfort. I forgot what was most important.”

She could not find words to meet this uncharacteristic and painful admission.

He managed a weak smile. “I can never repair all the damage, but I will do what I can. Your mother—God bless her soul—deserved better. There are no excuses for my behavior. She showed compassion, but I was too proud to admit I needed it.”

Elizabeth recalled his scrawled words, but this time they were tempered by the whispers of her heart. “None of us is worthy.”

He looked up, startled.

“I failed people too. Mother. Charlie. Captain O’Malley. Even you.” That was hardest to admit.

“No, child. Not once did you fail me. You were open and honest and caring.” He swiped at his eyes. “You put your brother and Anabelle before yourself.”

Her fingertips tingled with a new fear. “Where is she?”

Father pointed to the mouth of the harbor. “With her husband.”

The
Windsprite
was slipping into the harbor.

“No, Father, you cannot force her to return. You promised you’d give her to me. Well, I want her to be free. Promise you’ll emancipate her.”

“Hush, hush. It’s already done.”

“It is?”

He nodded. “Her husband is captain of the
Windsprite
now, and they have decided to settle here in Key West.”

“But if he’s captain of the
Windsprite
, what is Rour—Captain O’Malley to do?”

Sometime during the conversation, Rourke had joined them. “Command this schooner when I’m not ashore.”

She looked from the schooner to the
Windsprite
to her father and at last to Rourke. “But how? How did you get another ship, and why is my father with you?”

“That’s why I went to Harbour Island, to make a business proposition,” Father said.

“Charlie said you left on business, but I still don’t understand.”

Rourke took over. “I’ve wanted to leave wrecking for some time now. I had saved a good sum, and the award from the
Victory
added to it, but I still needed a bit more to build a warehouse and set up a shipping operation. That’s where your father stepped in.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re partners?”

Father shook his head. “I’m only an investor. My share of the settlement for the
Victory
provided just the amount Captain O’Malley needed to purchase this schooner and build a warehouse.”

She looked at Rourke. “You’re the one building the new warehouse?”

He laughed. “Actually, your father hired the work crew and set things in motion.” He pointed toward shore. “Did you notice the sign?”

She squinted into the sun. Beneath the peak of the roof, large letters had been painted on the wall of the second story. “O’Malley. Then it truly is yours.”

“That’s my understanding.”

“But why, Father? You never liked Rourke. What changed your mind?”

Her father looked uncomfortable. “Now, that’s not quite right. Rourke was a good friend to your brother the last few years. I just had difficulty seeing him as a son-in-law.”

“I see.” For all his change of heart, that had not changed.

“Look at me, Lizzie.” Father lifted her chin. “I did this because he loves you and you love him. You do, don’t you?”

She had never thought to hear such words from her father. “But you refused to listen to me whenever I brought up his name.”

“I was a fool.” Father cleared his throat again. “We, uh, came to an understanding.”

“Understanding?” She realized she was echoing what he said, but this was so surprising she could not find words.

Rourke took her hand, and before she even knew what was happening, he dropped to one knee. “Miss Elizabeth Benjamin. Last month I promised to return to you. On that day I also gave you my grandmother’s wedding ring as a pledge for the future.”

She touched her throat. The ring had become a part of her these past weeks, but she had not dared to believe this could happen. “Are you—?”

Rourke grinned. “I believe I’m supposed to take the lead on this.”

Her cheeks heated, and not from the sun.

He gave her a little wink of encouragement, and the twinkle in his eye sent her insides fluttering in the most wonderful way.

“Miss Elizabeth Benjamin, will you consent to marry me following a proper courtship?”

“Yes! Oh yes.” He might have had more to say, but she would not wait one second in case he or Father changed their minds. “But must it be proper? Might we hurry it a bit?”

Rourke looked shocked, but her father chuckled.

She drew another breath. “Wait until Anabelle hears. And Caroline and Charlie and, oh, Aunt Virginia.”

“Will you at least give me time to put the ring on your finger?” Rourke said with what she hoped was exaggerated exasperation.

“Of course.” She pulled the ribbon from around her neck and handed it to him.

He held the ring and snapped the ribbon.

“In a hurry, Captain?” her father said.

“I have waited four years.” Rourke slipped the ring on her finger. “I can’t wait a day longer.”

He swept her into his arms right there on the docks, despite her tangled hair and dusty skirts. He gazed deep into her eyes, and then he kissed her with such passion and promise that it erased every heartache of the last four years. Hope unfurled far inside and blossomed outward until she could not bear the joy.

“Ahem.” Father loudly cleared his throat. “We are in public.”

Elizabeth reluctantly broke the kiss, but she would not leave Rourke’s arms. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Never?” But Rourke’s stern question was paired with a grin. “Do you propose to take the helm when I head to sea?”

She laughed. “Perhaps I shall.”

“She’s a lot to handle.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if he meant her or the ship.

He must have read her mind, for he laughed and then turned her around. “But she has a good name.”

She blinked back tears as she breathed it aloud.
“
Redemption
.”

“Fitting, don’t you think?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, for in that instant she knew without a doubt that her place was not aboard a working ship. “I belong here, with my family.”

Rourke brushed aside her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. “I’m glad to hear that, because I intend to spend most of my time ashore now.”

“You do?”

“It would make it easier for you to keep me in sight every moment of the day,” he teased.

She protested, but he kissed her again, and the protest died. Those sea-green eyes shone with the promise of a lifetime.

“How can I be away from you a single moment?” he whispered.

Her heart filled to overflowing.

“I do have one more thing to show you.” He guided her along the docks and pointed up at the warehouse. “I noticed that someone took the liberty of adding a little more to that sign.”

She’d thought her heart would burst before.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” He beamed with pride.

“O’Malley and Sons?” Though the idea of children underfoot delighted her, he—and Father—had to learn not to act so hastily. “Aren’t you two putting the cart before the horse?”

“Maybe,” Rourke admitted without the slightest hint of regret, “but I can’t imagine anything sweeter. Should I have the painters change it?”

Elizabeth leaned against the man who would soon be her husband. “No, don’t. I rather like the ring of it. Unless, of course, we only have daughters, then I do expect a change.”