Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (106 page)

“I will be right there. Sylvia, Sylvia! Where
is she?”

“She went to the house.”

Hazel charged up the embankment shouting for
Sylvia, practically dragging Mary all the way. The poor little girl
could barely keep up with her mother’s brisk pace.

Giggles, laughter, and the occasional
argument went on outside the kitchen window as I peeled the
potatoes. I heard Ayden talking with James, Sr. as they walked
around the structures, explaining the damage from the last
nor’easter. I watched Heath and James, Jr. pass by, heading into
the second keeper’s quarters with the last of the trunks.

All the activity made time pass quickly, and
with Hazel’s help, supper was served an hour early. She knew her
way around a kitchen, and even burped Willard while stuffing the
chicken. Sylvia handed him to her as she had to chase down one of
the twins, who was throwing rocks at Lizzy. The small, frail
eight-year-old was no bigger than her little sister, Mary.

“She’s been sickly from the time she was
born. Got her father’s weak genes,” Hazel said when she noticed me
staring at Lizzy. “Thank goodness she’s the only one. All the rest
are as healthy as an ox. Especially Sylvia. She is tall for her
age, thirteen. Her feet as big as mine. Eleven pounds when she was
born. Nearly killed me to birth her. But look at her now . . .
gorgeous child. Got my ma’s golden blond hair, not that ugly red
that James gives our kids.”

It was strange to have such a large
gathering. Our large wooden table was full of food and people. The
noise level was almost deafening, for we had to eat inside due to
strong offshore winds. The younger children were whining to eat
first, the baby was crying, and the older ones, James, Jr. and
Polly, didn’t wait for grace before digging in and loading their
plates. Hazel was one who belted out orders. “Sylvia, move yourself
over. A wife sits beside her husband. Take the seat across, for
goodness sake!”

Sylvia grabbed her plate and squeezed around
Ayden and Heath, and as I watched her move, I noticed her
indiscreetly pressing her bosom against Ayden’s back, causing his
face to instantly flush. Everyone else was too busy eating and
talking . . . or crying . . . to notice. All but me and Heath.

Heath had been eyeing Sylvia, keeping close
attention on her behavior, seeming to make mental notes, while
Ayden often gazed at her enormous, heaving bosom that could barely
be contained in her tight, low-cut dress. She was as obvious as any
burlesque dancer I had encountered, and just as beautiful.

“Sorry about that, Lillian. Girl is beautiful
but not too smart,” Hazel said in front of everyone.

“Tell us about North Carolina and the station
you presided over,” Ayden encouraged, after clearing his throat and
peeling his eyes from Sylvia.

Heath sat back in his chair and listened to
James describe similar storms and tales of dangerous rescues during
fierce hurricanes. Then Ayden added stories of icebergs, freezing
cold temperatures, and disastrous nor’easters that blew through
nearly every year.

James was matter-of-fact as he spoke between
bites of his supper, where Ayden was passionate and fanatical about
tending the lighthouse.

“And what position do you keep?” James, Jr.
asked of Heath.

“And what happened to your hand!” Polly
shouted over everyone.

Hazel reached over and smacked the back of
her head. “Don’t you have any manners, Polly?”

“Just wondering, Ma!” she shouted back, the
smack not affecting her at all.

“My brother is a hero. Saved a child sure to
die in a fire. He is also a doctor by trade . . . well, before his
injury,” Ayden declared, with pride in his voice.

“If you will all excuse me,” Heath said
uncomfortably and rose out of his seat, “I have some chores to
attend to before dark.”

“Sure is an ugly scar,” Polly added, and
received a harder blow to the head.

I couldn’t blame Heath for wanting to leave.
This gathering wasn’t what we were used to. It was chaotic and
noisy. I needed some fresh air as well, and excused myself minutes
after Heath departed. The men stood as I nearly flew out of the
room - the arguing continued all the way until I reached
outside.

* * *

The howling wind muffled the insanity of the
Cooper family, as well as the footsteps that came up behind me. “I
was beginning to get a headache,” Heath confessed when he appeared
before me. I bundled my wrap over my shoulders and nodded in
agreement.

There was a long, awkward pause between us as
the wind turned piles of sand into small funnels that blew straight
into our faces. The long strands of my hair lifted out and snapped
against his face as he tried to talk over the howling wind. “How is
your leg? I haven’t asked you in a while.”

“It’s fine.”

“What?”

“I said it’s fine!”

Again, there was another awkward pause. I had
my eyes open into small slits to keep the sand out. I asked myself
why I was standing there with him when I should have gone back
inside to bring out the cake I’d baked for the special event.
Stay away from Heath. He will only hurt you! He only cares
because he is a doctor at heart. You mean nothing to him.

“Would you mind coming to my cottage. I need
to talk to you,” he shouted loud enough for me to hear.

“I have to serve the cake. I’d better get
back inside,” I said and turned to go. But he reached out, grabbed
my arm, and held me back. I looked down and saw it was the hand he
claimed he couldn’t use, the one that was supposedly paralyzed from
the blaze.

“Only for a moment, please.”

“For a few minutes.” I nervously agreed to
follow him into his private cottage. Just before we turned to go,
the door opened, and Ayden called me back inside. “Let’s have
dessert!”

Heath and I looked briefly at one another,
silently agreeing to another time.

“I wasn’t interrupting anything important,
was I?” Ayden asked, as I walked back in and tried to fix my
windblown hair with the palms of my hands.

“Not at all. Heath was going to check my
injury, that‘s all, to make sure it was healing all right.”

“Sure is good to have a doctor around.” Ayden
sat back down, his mouth watering for his favorite dessert -
chocolate cake.

The day couldn’t end fast enough for me. By
nightfall, I collapsed into bed, knowing Hazel was cleaning up as a
token of appreciation for our warm hospitality, and Ayden was busy
showing James the workings of the Jasper Island station. Sylvia
rounded up the children and ushered them off to bed, then hovered
around Ayden and her father as I used to as a child. For all I
knew, she stayed up there until late into the night, watching and
listening to the keepers. Maybe she was truly interested. Perhaps
she hoped to be a keeper and take over for her aging father when
his time came to retire.

Morning was no longer slow-paced or
monotonous. Now there were hungry children whining to be fed.
Skillets were heated well before dawn, and eggs scrambled and left
aside in large wooden bowls. James, Jr. brought in the pitchers of
fresh milk and placed them on each end of the table. Owen and
Oliver pushed one another and hastily poured their own glasses of
milk, which were immediately toppled over, dripping onto the
floor.

“Damn you boys. Polly, grab a cloth. Lizzy,
stop crying now! Sylvia, take your sister up and get her changed!”
Hazel ordered.

Sylvia huffed, then handed baby Willard over
to Mary, who was barely large enough to contain the baby in her
arms. Owen and Oliver fled past me, ran outside, and played until
the food was on the table.

Ayden sauntered to the table expecting to see
the hot food on his plate. He needed to eat, then get straight to
bed. Heath and James hadn’t arrived yet.

“I’m sorry, dear. Everything is running
behind this morning, including breakfast. Hazel opened the supply
box and found there was no lard for biscuits,” I explained, as I
poured him a cup of hot coffee.

“I just can’t get to the village today,
Lillian. James and I have a ton of work to do. Ask Heath to row you
over,” he said wearily. “Just hope I can manage to get a few hours
of sleep in.”

Ayden glanced around the room, realizing all
these rambunctious children were going to prevent him from getting
his much needed rest. “I can’t figure out how James manages,” he
mumbled in my direction for only me to hear.

All the children flew through the door,
followed by James, Sr., then Heath. Sylvia took Willard from Mary’s
lap and shoved a bottle in his face while Hazel dished out the
eggs. I served James, Sr. and Heath a cup of coffee, then sat
myself down.

“No biscuits?” James, Sr. asked in disbelief.
“Ma, you know I like my biscuits and gravy.”

“Supply box had none. Just eat your eggs,
James,” she snapped back.

“I will go retrieve the box that must have
been left behind,” I announced.

“Heath, you take her. Give Mr. Makson a piece
of my mind, too. Damn if we should have to row back for something
he forgot to load up.”

“I need some items from the store, in any
case,” Heath said.

“By tonight you’ll have your biscuits,” Hazel
assured her husband. He appeared mollified for the moment.

“Can I go with them, Ma?” Sylvia asked over
Willard’s fussing.

“I need you right here, Sylvia. Got loads of
washing to do, three days’ worth,” Hazel replied without lifting
her eyes to look at Sylvia’s dejected face.

“What about school? Don’t you have to get us
registered,” she cried.

“Got plenty of time for that. Now hush up and
eat your breakfast.”

Sylvia scooped up Willard and stormed off
without being properly excused from the table.

Her siblings paid no attention to the brief
squabble and finished off their meal with lightning speed so they
could get back outside to play. All the children but Lizzy. Her
face was pale and gaunt, her large round eyes gone dazed and bleak,
and before I had time to point out her condition, Lizzy was hurling
what little food she ate all over the table. The vile fluid
splattered all over, across the table and directly onto Heath’s
shirt.

The sickly little girl began to wail in shame
as Heath quickly jumped up to avoid the rest flowing onto his
trousers.

“Polly . . .” Without waiting for direction,
Polly nonchalantly led Lizzy out, and the remaining children were
excused from the table. Ayden lost his appetite, though he made the
excuse for leaving that he needed to get to bed. Ayden never left
the table without finishing his meal.

I went to get a wet cloth to clean the nasty
mess and handed Heath one as well. “Let me get that,” Hazel said,
taking the cloth from Heath.

“Ma’am, it’s fine. I might just as well
change,” he said with a flushed face.

“You leave your clothes for me to wash.
Basket is out on the front porch.”

“Better do as she says,” I suggested with a
slight laugh behind my words.

“Smart girl. Wish my Sylvia had as much sense
to her.”

At Hazel’s insistence, Heath held back his
objections, only asking, “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“No more than I already have,” she replied,
exasperated, and took off to the kitchen.

“Meet me by the boathouse in fifteen minutes.
That‘s all I need to change out of my soiled clothing.” He
chuckled. “I recall you used to have quite the sensitive stomach
when you were younger.”

Heath was referring to my first day of school
when I was so nervous I threw up in front of the entire class.
Heath was the one who’d helped me clean up and encouraged me to go
back into the schoolhouse and continue with my day without any more
woe.

“You remembered,” I said softly. He smiled at
me, a true, genuine smile, the kind that used to send my heart
soaring.

“There isn’t anything about you, Lillian,
that I would allow myself to ever forget.”

Hazel entered without paying us any mind, not
sensing the apprehension between us. Did Heath suggest that he
would never forget all the trouble I caused? I didn’t know, and
couldn’t tell from the spark in his eyes if he was challenging me
again, or surrendering.

“You two better get a move on. James is going
to expect biscuits and gravy at supper.”

Before heading to the boathouse, I hurried to
my room to fix myself up. That’s when I noticed a small wrapped box
beside the mirror. I looked around for a note, but there was
none.

Excited at the surprise, I opened the paper
to reveal a small bottle of perfume. I lifted the top, and right
away knew whom it was from. The scent was what I had smelled on
Ayden the night he returned after the last storm.

I went to his room and knocked softly. He
wasn’t yet asleep, just resting with his head propped up on two
pillows.

“Come in,” he called. “I can’t sleep with all
that racket outside.”

“I found my gift. What on earth is it for?” I
asked. The drapes were closed, but natural light periodically
flashed as the wind blew in and lifted them high above the
window.

“I smelt six different bottles before I chose
this one for you. This one smelled soft and sweet and reminded me
of you.”

I enclosed him in my arms. The gesture nearly
caused me to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had
given me a gift a gift without strings attached and for no
particular reason.

“No crying," he insisted.

“They are happy tears. Thank you very much,
Ayden.”

“Did you put some on?”

“I dabbed some behind my ears,” I said as he
took my hands in his.

“Can I take a whiff?” he asked.

“I have to go. Heath is waiting for me at the
boathouse.”