The Lightkeeper's Ball (7 page)

Katie bit her lip and glanced at Addie. “Didn’t she say something about asking Harrison to explain?” She rubbed her head. “I can’t quite remember.”

“That’s right!” Addie said. “I’d forgotten too. She said Harrison would be able to explain it all, and that she couldn’t wait for him to get home.”

“I must find that letter,” Olivia said slowly.

The lighthouse accommodations were more rustic than Olivia was used to. A handmade quilt covered the mattress on the iron bedstead in her room. Matching curtains hung in the windows. There was no closet, only a chifforobe against one wall. A bowl and pitcher of water rested atop the dresser.

But the room held a warmth she’d never experienced in the elegant mansion on Fifth Avenue. These people were different too. Accepting of who she was. They didn’t know she knew the Astors or that she hailed from one of New York’s most prominent families. Olivia suspected they wouldn’t care if they did know.

She jotted down in her journal her impressions of Mercy Falls, then put down her pen when a knock came at the door. “Come in,” she called, knowing it had to be Katie.

But it was little Jennie who popped through the door. “I came for a good-night kiss,” she said. She ran to Olivia and tried to climb into her lap.

Olivia lifted the little girl onto her knees. Jennie wrapped her arms around Olivia’s neck and turned her cheek up for a kiss. The feel of the warm little body in her arms was quite delightful. She hadn’t been around children much, and hugging Jennie, she wished it had been different. The child’s trusting expression and round cheeks touched her heart in a way she’d never experienced.

Olivia brushed her lips over the soft cheek smelling of talcum. “Good night, darling.” She glanced up to see Katie in the door.

“I hope she didn’t disturb you.” Katie stepped into the room and held out her arms to her daughter.

Olivia handed Jennie up to Katie. “I loved it.”

The wind picked up outside and rattled the windowpanes. Katie frowned when the first spatters of rain struck the glass. “Will says we’re in for a bad gale, not just a rainstorm.”

“How does he know?”

“He’s a weatherman. Always playing with his weather balloons and instruments. He calls in his findings to the weather bureau.” She smiled. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Olivia turned out the light when the other woman shut the door. She tried to settle in for sleep, but her thoughts churned. Could she be wrong about Harrison, or was he just very good at charming his way into women’s graces?

She realized the wind had increased in velocity. The gale howled, and she sat up and watched the rain sheeting down the glass. The window rattled, then the glass broke. Rain came in a straight line through the opening. She leaped from the bed and called for the Jespersons. She wrenched open the door and in the hall met Katie, who had Jennie in her arms.

Katie thrust her daughter to Olivia. “Get downstairs! I’ll try to cover this hole.”

Thunder rumbled and the wind howled again. Jennie clutched Olivia and whimpered. “It’s okay,” Olivia said, patting the little girl’s back awkwardly. The child’s sobs ratcheted up with the storm.

She rushed down the steps with the child. When she reached the parlor, sparks were flying onto the floor from the wind churning down the chimney. Olivia set the little girl on a chair and grabbed a rug. She beat out the embers, then took the poker and separated the logs so the fire could die down. Sparks flew out and burned her dress, but she quickly extinguished them. The windows all over the house rattled, and the howling of the wind made her want to cover her ears.

She scooped up the sobbing child. “It’s okay, Jennie. The fire is out.” Olivia ran to the steps. “Katie, are you all right?”

Katie rushed down the steps. “I couldn’t get it covered. I’ve never seen a storm like this. I wish Will were inside.” She plucked her daughter from Olivia’s arms.

“Where is he?” Olivia asked.

“In the light tower. I’d insist he come down, but it would do no good. He’ll stay up there until the ship that crosses this time of night has passed safely.” She paced the floor, humming to Jennie as the wind intensified.

Olivia grabbed an afghan from the back of the sofa as the chill seeped into the room. The storm continued to beat against the building. In spite of the storm’s fury, the little girl put her head on her mother’s shoulder and slept.

A horrendous crash came from somewhere above them. Katie turned wide eyes on Olivia, then thrust her wailing daughter at her. “I have to check on Will!”

Before she ran up the stairs, more crashes came, then a door banged. Footsteps ran toward them and Will took the final three steps in a leap.

“Get out! The whole thing is coming down.” He grabbed Jennie from Olivia, then herded them all to the door.

Olivia paused, not wanting to go out into the storm. How bad could it be?

Katie plucked at her sleeve. “We must get out, Olivia. Come now.”

Olivia allowed her friend to lead her out of the lighthouse.

Glass shattered and timbers creaked. They exited into driving rain. The wind nearly knocked Olivia over as she struggled to see through the downpour that instantly drenched her. A huge crash sounded behind them, and she whirled to see the lighthouse collapsing. Every window in the house had been blown out. The tower toppled to the ground.

S
IX

W
IND AND RAIN
lashed Harrison’s motorcar as his driver navigated the flooded road from Ferndale to Mercy Falls. It was a wonder the driver could see, though this Cadillac model had a windshield. Still, sheets of rain came in all around the canvas top. Harrison couldn’t even see the beacon from the lighthouse in the storm. They were on the outskirts of town. He had responded to a call to help transport a family driven from their home by a flash flood to a relative in Ferndale.

Thurman braked abruptly, and Harrison leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Look, sir.” The driver indicated a bedraggled column of people out in the storm.

“Good heavens, it’s the Jespersons,” Harrison said when he saw the man’s face. He got out into the drenching rain. “Get in!” he shouted above the din of the storm.

He ushered them into the backseat, then realized there were three adults plus Jennie. Lady Devonworth was with them. He climbed into the front beside his driver. He put his arm on the seat back and turned around to stare at his passengers. Lady Devonworth wore only a nightgown. She shivered in the soaked garment.

“This isn’t any drier, but it might warm you,” he said as he shrugged off his wet jacket. He handed it back to her, and she murmured her thanks as she slid her arms into it.

Even with dripping hair, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Those gypsy black eyes were exotic and compelling, even with her lashes dripping wet and water running down her cheeks.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“The storm blew down the lighthouse,” Will said. “I knew it had some weak areas, but I hadn’t been able to get money from the Bureau of Lighthouses for repairs.”

“Totally gone?” Harrison asked. Will nodded. “No wonder I couldn’t see the beacon. I thought it was because the storm was so bad.”

“I just pray no ships were grounded out there without it. I think the
Lucy
had already gone past.”

“Thank God you were all uninjured. You were in the building when it came down?”

Will nodded. “I was in the tower and barely escaped. I got the women out, and the next gust caved in the roof. It’s totally destroyed.”

“You’re all unhurt. That’s the important thing.” Harrison glanced at Thurman. “Let’s get everyone to my house.”

His driver nodded. “We’ll be home in five minutes.”

“Turn up the heat,” Harrison told Will. “The gas burner is by your feet.”

Will complied, and the burner sputtered. The rain blew in on everyone in the backseat. He tucked his coat around his daughter, then slipped his arm around his wife. “I’ve never seen a storm like this. The wind speeds topped a hundred miles an hour.”

“You’re welcome to spend the night at my house,” Harrison said. “You too, Lady Devonworth. Unless you’d rather I have my driver take you to the Stewart manor?”

She hesitated. A wary expression crossed her face, then she shook her head. “I don’t want to rouse the household at this hour. Thank you for your kind offer. I shall take you up on it.”

The car reached his home, and Thurman braked at the sidewalk. “I have an umbrella, sir,” he said.

“I think we’re all too wet for it to matter,” Harrison said. “Don’t trouble yourself. The rain is slowing. Ready to make a run for it?” he asked his guests.

When they nodded, he got out, then helped Lady Devonworth out while Will lifted Katie and Jennie from the motorcar. They all ran for the front door. Harrison held on to Lady Devonworth’s elbow and hurried her toward the haven inside. They burst into the warmth of the foyer and shook water all over the floor.

He saw Lady Devonworth take in the opulent hall and the curving staircase to the second floor. “It’s more grand than I need,” he said. “But my father insists on the best of everything.”

Mrs. Lindrum rushed toward them with towels. “Oh goodness, Mr. Harrison, you’re all going to catch your death of cold. Come in by the fire.” His housekeeper motioned to the ladies to follow her.

His collie, Nealy, bounded to meet him. He rubbed his dog’s head, and Nealy whined, then went to greet the women. Lady Devonworth jumped back when she saw the dog. Her eyes went wide.

She darted behind Will. “Get him away!”

“Nealy won’t hurt you,” Harrison assured her.

Her face went even more pale. “I was bitten when I was a child,” she said softly. “Dogs terrify me.”

He clucked his tongue. “Nealy, come.” The dog came to his side and lay down by his feet.

Katie and Lady Devonworth left the wet towels on the floor and disappeared through the parlor door. Harrison toweled off his hair, then followed with Will, who still had Jennie in his arms. She lay quietly with her head on his shoulder and her eyes wide as the thunder roared outside.

“Want some cookies and milk, honey?” Harrison asked her. She nodded and reached for him. He took her and held her close. “You’re cold. I’ll get you a blanket.” He carried her into the parlor with the women and asked Mrs. Lindrum to fetch refreshments. An afghan was on the sofa, and he wrapped it around the little girl.

When she snuggled her head against him, he saw Lady Devonworth’s attention fixed on them. “She likes me,” he said.

“Obviously,” she said.

There was a note in her voice he didn’t quite understand. Surprise or disquiet? She seemed wary around him too, and he’d given her no reason to distrust him. He couldn’t figure her out.