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Authors: Roxane Tepfer Sanford

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Lillian was sleeping soundly when the
carriage pulled up. Betsy lifted my baby into her arms and
encouraged me.

“The time has come. Let’s hurry and make you
Mrs. Patrick Garrett Arrington.”

 

To my relief, there stood my beloved Patrick
beside Adam at the altar. Their eyes fixed on me as I walked up the
aisle, my hands trembling, my heart racing. The altar was
surrounded by dozens of lit candles, and to my wonder, a priest
stood at the center, waiting for me.

“As a favor to Adam Higgins,” Betsy revealed
in a whisper, then moved over and stood beside me.

It was a wedding made only in my dreams. The
man I loved with every part of my being stood before me and vowed
to love, honor, protect, and be mine until death do us part. Before
God, we promised to be man and wife and serve Christ together.
Through all of the uncertainties and trials of life, we committed
to be faithful so that together we might grow in the likeness of
Christ, and that our home should be dedicated to Him, in the name
of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We sealed our marriage
with a tender kiss as the priest pronounced us Man and Wife,
adding, “What God has created, let no man put asunder.”

 

Not long after, the man I now called only
Garrett and I, along with our baby girl, Lillian, began our new
life as we set out on a vessel toward the open sea to the secluded
lighthouse that would be our home, where with the guidance of God,
we would live free from the shadows of our riotous past and
flourish in the natural love of days to come.

 

# # #

The Arrington saga continues with
The Girl in the
Lighthouse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Girl in the Lighthouse (book I)

Roxane Tepfer Sanford

second edition

Copyright ©2009/2011 Roxane Tepfer Sanford

www.thegirlinthelighthouse.com

 

 

The Girl in the Lighthouse
is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead
is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or
any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in
writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher.

 

 

The Arrington series

The Girl in the Lighthouse (2009)

All That is Beautiful (2010)

Sacred Intentions (2011)

 

For my husband Michael and our six
children--Gabrielle, Myles, Douglas, Caroline, Harrison and
Jack.

 

____________

 

 

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

 

____________

 

 

Chapter One

“There it is, Lillian. Come see,” Daddy
called from where he stood on deck. I ran to him and jumped into
his strong arms as the cool, salty breeze whipped my long, blond
hair fiercely against my face. “Over there—just around the
bend.”

I shielded my eyes from the intense sun that
reflected off the gleaming sea, and that’s when I saw it. The
giant, white, granite lighthouse tower stood twice as tall as our
last one and sat in the center of the island, which to me, was
almost the size of a small village.

“You will have your very own room,” Momma
said to me as Daddy pulled her close against him.

Our first home was on a tiny island off the
coast of Maine, nearly twenty miles out to sea; it was the only
home I knew. Then Daddy’s orders came, and he was transferred to a
new station on Jasper Island, where we would have our very own
quarters, and to my delight, there was going to be an assistant
keeper and his family. I had never had a friend before, and was
excited to learn there would be children my own age to play with.
And since the island was no more than five miles from the mainland,
we would be able to venture out on weekly excursions.

My years at Rock Ledge Island Station were
lonely, though I had befriended an injured seal that Momma helped
me nurse back to health. I named him Eli. He stayed with us until a
great storm passed through the winter of my seventh year, and he
was gone, swallowed up by the sea. I spent the entire year crying
for my beloved pet, my only friend, until Daddy told me one day
that I had cried long enough.

I was sitting on my favorite rock, staring
out at the endless, dark ocean, as I had done almost every day,
even through the bitter winter. However, on that particular day,
the air was dry and the sun warmed my face, though inside I felt as
dark as the water that surrounded me.

“Lillian, look at me,” Daddy said. He took
hold of my chin and made me stare up into his dark amber eyes.
“It’s time for your mourning for Eli to end—as of today. You have
had more than enough time to put your heart to rest.”

“But Daddy, I miss him so.”

“In life, my darling, you will come to learn
that time is your greatest asset. Time heals your heart, and soon
your loss will turn into your fondest memory, and the love you had
will forever remain in a place that you will never have to let
go.”

At the time, I didn’t quite understand what
he meant, but I did not cry another day for Eli.

The vessel anchored, and it was time to load
up the boats and make our departure. Daddy lifted me up into the
row boat, and I sat near Momma, who was staring over at the island.
The day was bright and warm; not one cloud floated by in the pale
blue sky.

On the shore of the island two young boys
enthusiastically waved their hats as their parents, the assistant
keepers, waited to help us disembark. I was amazed when I stepped
foot on the island and climbed up the steep embankment to see the
structure.

The conical lighthouse was nearly one hundred
and nineteen feet of granite, with three windows along the tower
and a lantern room at the top. At the bottom was the
newly-constructed, white, two-story wood house with dark green
shutters that was going to be our home.

The boys from below hurried to greet me as I
waited to enter the house. “Hello, there,” said the tall boy with
wildly curly hair, greeting me with a warm smile. “My name is Heath
Dalton, and this is my younger brother, Ayden Dalton.”

Ayden was years younger, with glossy,
jet-black hair and big, dark, midnight-blue eyes. He stayed almost
hidden behind his older brother, peered around him, and then rudely
stuck his tongue out at me.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Lillian
Arrington.”

Heath extended his arm and shook my hand.

Ayden quickly ran off and headed back down to
the shore. From behind the house a large, hairy, black dog ran
after him.

“That’s our dog, Lady,” said Heath. “A
fisherman gave her to my father last year after he saved the man
from drowning when his boat sank in Lake Michigan.”

Every lighthouse keeper had saved fishermen
and sailors—sometimes dozens a year. Daddy had rescued two that
very year.

From down below, someone called Heath’s name.
“I have to assist with the trunks. It was nice to meet you,” he
said and hurried off.

Daddy arrived with the first of many trunks,
and I followed him inside the house. Momma was only steps
behind.

On the first floor was an enormous main room
with one fireplace. The floors were laid with strips of oak, the
windows tall, with wide-open shutters. To the left was the kitchen,
and in the foyer was a narrow stairway that led to the two bedrooms
on the second floor. With great anticipation, I ran upstairs and
claimed my room. It was large, with a fireplace and my very own
closet. The window faced the mainland in the not-so-far
distance.

“What do you think?” Daddy asked from the
doorway, where he stood smoking his pipe.

“I love it here,” I cried, running to
him.

He hugged me tight then kissed the top of my
head. “Let’s get settled. Start unpacking, and when you’re done, we
will head to the Daltons’ quarters for supper. They are a very nice
family,” he said. Then, in his usual mild-mannered way, he quietly
strolled back down the stairs.

Ayden and Heath arrived with my trunk and
dropped it at the foot of my bed. Ayden hurried out while Heath
lingered for a moment.

“This is quite a house,” he said, glancing
around. I was mesmerized. His hair was the color of honey, and he
was tall, almost as tall as Daddy. Heath had a heart-shaped face, a
small nose that pointed slightly upwards, and his skin was already
tanned from the early summer sun. I believed he must have been
sixteen years old, but later found out he was only fourteen.

Heath smiled at me then told me he was going
to someday be a doctor, not a lighthouse keeper. “As soon as I
graduate from school, I will attend Harvard,” he told me. “I plan
to set up practice in Boston. Have you ever been there,
Lillian?”

I hadn’t known anyone other than Momma and
Daddy, let alone been anywhere other than a rocky, desolate island,
far out at sea. I had only seen storms and fog and ships navigating
the deep, icy waters of the North Atlantic. The only company we had
were either rescued sailors or dead fishermen washed up onto the
rocky beach.

“No, I have never been to Boston,” I replied.
“Have you?”

“Have I?” he replied with a huge grin.
“That’s where we’re originally from.”

Just then, Ayden walked in carrying a large
wooden box filled with all my books. Every month, the lighthouse
tender made his way out to Rock Ledge Island to deliver our
supplies, and that always included a new box of books and teaching
supplies for Momma. Since I was three, she had tended my schooling.
I loved writing and especially loved reading. The books I read took
me to faraway places. In my mind, I met new people and had great
adventures. My books were my only escape from my dreary, isolated
existence.

“That’s the last of it,” Ayden huffed.

“I presume we will see you at supper?” Heath
asked.

“Of course,” I replied then thanked them for
bringing my belongings up to my room.

“See you then,” I called from the opened
window of my bedroom. Heath smiled, and Ayden scowled at me.

Just before we gathered around the large
wooden table set up outside the Dalton quarters, I was introduced
to Edward and Opal Dalton. Edward was near Daddy’s age and Opal was
years older than Momma. Momma didn’t have a speck of gray hair on
her long, thick, chestnut-brown hair, unlike Opal. Momma’s skin was
the color of light ivory and as soft as silk. She had large green
eyes and her features fine and delicate. I resembled Momma, except
my hair was platinum blond and turned even lighter during peak
summer months.

Opal greeted me with a pleasant smile, and
Edward said, “Hello, young lady.” Ayden looked much like his
mother, but Heath was the exact image of his father.

The feast was grand, the occasion meant to
celebrate new beginnings on Jasper Island. Edward gave the prayer
before we began to eat. I sat with Momma to one side and Heath to
the other. Daddy and Edward sat at each end of the long, pine
table. Ayden sat beside Opal, opposite me. From listening to the
adults talk, I gathered the Daltons had arrived from Great Point
Station in Michigan only two days prior. In years past, they had
also been stationed on the other coast of America, way out in
California.

Despite their age difference, Momma and Opal
quickly became friends, and of course, had much in common. I could
see how happy Momma was to have another woman to talk to. They
chatted, Heath ate beside me, and Ayden asked to be excused. He had
quickly finished his meal and wanted to explore the island.

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