The Lightkeeper's Bride (9 page)

Their maid, Lois, appeared in the doorway. “Miss Katie, Mr. Foster is here. He heard about your papa.”

Katie tried to ignore the hope in her mother’s face. “Bart is here? Show him into the parlor, please.” Katie pushed her loose hair away from her face. Though she’d dressed, she hadn’t taken time to put up her hair or wash her face.

Pink rushed to her mother’s cheeks. “Put on your blue dress and pinch some color into your cheek. And leave your hair down. I know it’s not proper, but your curls are very fetching. Men are quite fond of seeing a woman’s hair down.”

Heat ran up Katie’s neck. “Under the circumstances, I thought this gray one most appropriate. I’m sure he’s here to offer his assistance, Mama. Besides, I couldn’t marry without a suitable engagement.

A year at least.”

“You
must
, Katie,” her mother said, flinging back the covers. She staggered from the bed and gripped Katie’s shoulders. Her eyes held a feverish glint. “It’s the only answer. You’re attracted to him anyway.

He holds so much power and wealth.”

Katie tried to twist away, but her mother held her firmly. “But what if he finds out who I really am?” If people knew she wasn’t really Inez Russell’s daughter, would her friends all desert her?

“How could he possibly find out? My dear sister knows better than to show her face here after all these years.”

“She might hear of my marriage and come back to demand money.”

The idea had plagued Katie most of her life. She never wanted to see the woman who had abandoned her again.

“Just let her try!” Katie’s mother stepped back and dropped her hands to her sides.

“I wouldn’t want to humiliate Bart.” Or to face such disgrace herself.

Her mother’s face softened. “I’ve often wished we could wipe away the memories you have of your early years with Florence. I did the best I could to salve your wounds with love.”

“You’ve been a wonderful mother,” Katie choked out. She hated to talk about Florence. The memories still made her ache.

Her mother made a shooing motion. “Make yourself presentable, my dear. Your future husband awaits.”

Katie made herself smile back into her mother’s serene face. “Yes, Mama, the blue dress.” She hurried to her room and changed into her new dress then raked her fingers through her curls so they lay on her shoulders in casual abandon. Tucking a hanky into the sleeve of her dress, she descended the stairs and stepped into the parlor where she found Bart Foster standing with his hands clasped behind him as he stared into the garden. Sunshine gleamed on his carefully combed blond hair.

His appearance never failed to remind her of his status in the community. His navy suit had been tailored in the city, and he stopped to have his shoes shined every morning. His grandfather had been a Mercy Falls’s founder, and every unmarried woman in town cast longing gazes his direction. She should be thrilled he gave her more than a passing glance. And of course, she was. As his wife, the specters of her past couldn’t harm her. She could hold her head high.

He turned and spied her standing in the doorway. “My dear Katie, I came as soon as I heard.” He crossed the Persian rug and took Katie’s hand in his.

She returned the strong pressure of his fingers. “I’m so glad for your help and strength, Bart,” she said. Though they’d been on first names for two months now, she still relished the way the syllable rolled off her tongue. The admiration in his blue eyes never failed to lift her spirits, though today the warmth of his gaze only raised her mood slightly above the floor.

Keeping her hand in his possession, he led her to the sofa. “How is your mother?”

“She’s . . . resting,” Katie said. Her mother would be mortified if Bart became aware of how she’d fallen apart this morning at the news.

He squeezed her fingers. “What is your father’s condition?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m going to check on him shortly.”

“I would be glad to accompany you.”

“Thank you, Bart, but I have several errands to run as well. I wouldn’t want to take up so much of your time. I’m sure your father expects you at the sawmill.”

“I have some meetings later this morning.” He pressed her hands far longer than was appropriate. “Telephone the office if there is anything I can do.”

“I shall do that.”

His gaze lingered in her hair. “You look quite lovely today.”

The heat of his glance made her want to wind her hair into a French roll and cover it with a chapeau. “Thank you.” Her mother’s advice had been right. She only wished the touch of his hand would make her feel something beyond . . . invaded.

He gave her fingers a final squeeze. “I should go and let you get to your errands.” He paused as though to give her time to object.

She knew she should offer Bart refreshment, but she wanted to find out about her father. To confront him and see if he’d really tried to do away with himself. It was so difficult to have to shoulder the burden to try to make sure everyone was taken care of. She knew she had to figure out a way to meet everyone else’s expectations.

She rose and smiled down at him. “Thank you for stopping by, Bart. You’re a good man.” He smiled his pleasure, and she ushered him out then leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Mama would expect a full report.

N
INE

T
HE BABY’S HOWL
awakened Will. He’d been dreaming he was in a hot air balloon floating along the clouds with his barometer. He opened scratchy eyes and got up. The clock on the mantel struck ten thirty. He’d slept since dawn when he’d extinguished the lighthouse lamp, and most fortunately, so had Jennie.

“Are you hungry, honey?” he asked. “Want some bread and jam?”

She gave him a toothy smile and reached up. “Ree,” she said.

Did she just try to say
hungry
? He scooped her up. She’d wormed her way into his heart so quickly. In the kitchen, he deposited her in the high chair Katie had suggested he bring from the Bulmer residence, then spread a slice of bread with butter and jam. He cut it into pieces and placed it in front of her.

She rammed a piece into her mouth. “Umm, umm,” she mouthed around her food.

Cute the way she did that when she ate. He prepared some oatmeal for himself, and when she reached for it, he fed her a few spoonfuls. After breakfast he cleaned her up, changed her diaper, and carried her back to the parlor where he put her on the floor with some wooden blocks. Too bad Philip wasn’t here to bond with his baby girl. She was quite charming. He glanced out the window and saw a horse and rider at the bottom of the hill. Constable Brown dismounted and trekked up the hillside toward the lighthouse.

Will sighed and went to open the door. “Good morning, Constable Brown. What brings you out here?”

“I wish to speak with you, Mr. Jesperson.”

“You’re looking a little tired. Busy night keeping the peace?” Will asked, stepping aside to allow the constable to enter.

“Bad night,” the constable said.

Will led him to the parlor. “Have a seat.”

Brown sank onto the sofa. “I don’t suppose you have any coffee?”

“I do.” Will went to get a cup for the man, and when he came back, he found the constable dangling his closed pocketknife in front of the baby’s rapt face. “I don’t think that’s the best thing for her to play with,” he said.

“She can’t get it open. It’s much too difficult.”

Will retrieved it from Jennie anyway and distracted her with the pan lids before she could wail. “So what’s the problem, Constable?”

“Albert Russell was found half-drowned at Mercy Falls last night.”

Will put down his cup of coffee on the marble-topped table beside him. “What happened?”

“Attempted suicide, I suspect.”

“He’ll be all right?”

The constable hesitated. “He was still unconscious this morning when I checked at the hospital. The doctor isn’t sure if he will recover.”

“I’m sorry.” He was too. He thought of Miss Katie and the pain she must be going through. Suicide. Did it have anything to do with Miss Bulmer and her call suggesting Philip investigate Russell? “How does that correspond to your visit here?”

“Miss Katie mentioned her father came to see you yesterday.

Looking for a pocket watch.”

Will nodded. “He was here just a few minutes.”

“Did he seem upset? Distraught?”

“Not suicidal, by any means. He asked if I’d seen the watch, and I told him I had only taken baby items from Miss Bulmer’s house.”

Brown took out a cigar. “Did he seem upset that it was missing?”

“He did not seemed pleased. Look, Constable, I find it difficult to believe the man tried to kill himself. Especially in light of Miss Bulmer’s disappearance and the attack on Miss Russell.”

Brown rolled the cigar in his fingers and nodded. “There is that. I was about to mention it to you. I spoke with the owner of The Redwood Inn. He described the man as in his midtwenties with dark hair and brown eyes. A nice dresser.”

An image of his brother flashed through Will’s mind, but he pushed the thought away. Philip would never threaten Miss Russell. Besides, he’d gone back to the city. Hadn’t he?

Brown took a gulp of his coffee then set it on the table beside him. “Where is your brother, Mr. Jesperson?”

The man was no fool. Will might have implicated Philip in this mess by admitting he suspected Jennie was Philip’s daughter. Will kept his expression impassive. “He’s in San Francisco. Investigating the missing ship, as I mentioned.”

Brown took out a notebook. “What’s the name of his agency and where can I find him?”

Will told him and watched while the constable wrote it down. “If you suspect Philip of involvement in this, you’re mistaken, Constable.”

“Of course, of course.” Brown put his notebook away and rose. “I shall be in touch.”

“Constable, while I have you here—” Will began.

The man turned with a questioning expression. “Is there another problem?”

“Not a problem, necessarily. I wondered if you’d heard anything else about that missing ship.”

“We found some more bodies floating in the bay. Barbarians, that’s what those pirates are.”

“Any clues to solving that case?”

“It’s as dead as the squid I saw on the beach. I’ve combed the roads and coastline for clues, but they’ve vanished.” Brown raised his brows.

“Now see here . . . why don’t you leave the investigating to me?”

Philip had told him that local law enforcement tended to be proprietary about their investigations. “You’re quite right. In the worry about Miss Bulmer, I forgot something my brother told me. I mentioned he’d asked me to speak with her. There was a man she thought might be involved in the taking of
Dalton’s Fortune
.”

“The ship that was taken a month ago,” the constable said. “Who was the man?”

“Albert Russell.”

Light dawned in Brown’s eyes. “Perhaps his daughter is not as far off as I’d thought. She wondered if he might have been attacked.”

“Or he was involved and would rather kill himself than go to jail.”

“True.” Brown put on his bowler. “Thank you for your time, Mr.

Jesperson. Our discussion was most interesting.”

Miss Bulmer had said to check out Albert Russell. Was it only revenge or had the man truly been involved?

Katie tiptoed into the room. She still trembled from seeing her father’s still form, settled under a crisp, white sheet. His chest had barely moved up and down and he hadn’t opened his eyes, though she’d called his name and held his hand until the nurses had shooed her out.

The light from the open curtains illuminated her mother’s blotchy, aging skin. She was beautiful to Katie, though. What other woman would have taken her in and loved her so completely? Katie went to the window and struggled to release the heavy drapes from the tiebacks.

“I’m awake.”

Katie turned at the sound of her mother’s voice. “I was going to let you sleep.”

Her mother plumped the pillows and sat up. “I can’t hide in bed forever. How did it go, darling?”

“Very well. Bart was solicitous and offered to escort me to the hospital, but I declined his offer. I went to check on Papa and then to see about the state of his affairs.”

Her mother sat up. “How was he?”

Better for her mother to realize how serious his injury was. “Unconscious. The doctor is doing what he can.”

Her mother swallowed hard. “He’s strong. I believe he will be fine. I must go to him.” She struggled to sit up.

Katie pressed her back against the pillow. “Not yet. The nurses told me we must stay away and not tax his strength.”

“They’ll not keep me from my husband’s side. You must help me to dress and go to him.” Her mother gripped Katie’s hand. “You’re so competent, my dear. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Now tell me about Bart.”

The springs groaned as Katie sat on the edge of her mother’s bed. “I–I don’t really love Bart, Mama. Am I even ready for marriage?”

Her mother patted her hand. “Love will come in time, dear girl. This modern-day obsession with love is ridiculous. Respect is what you need for a marriage to flourish. You respect him, do you not?”

“Oh yes. He’s a good man. Honorable.”

“And wealthy. There will be no problems he can’t handle with his family’s money and influence behind him.” She put her hand on her forehead. “My head aches quite dreadfully.”

Katie positioned herself to massage her mother’s head. The weight of responsibility pressed her down. What would it be like to choose a man who seemed somewhat . . . unsuitable? Mr. Jesperson’s brown eyes flashed through her memory, but she told herself not to be ridiculous. He was the last man on earth her mother would accept. A lightkeeper earned a bare pittance. There would be no more pretty dresses and slippers, no more baubles and perfume, let alone a chance for her parents to keep their home and servants. Such things were only important to Katie because they ensured that the people she admired would never know the squalor from which she’d come. A woman had to think of future children and caring for her mother. That was how things were done. Inez had made that clear.

Her mother’s smile faded. She seemed to gather herself. “Katie, did I dream it or did you say your father had a . . . another child?”