Love Unexpected (27 page)

After what Patrick had shared regarding his marriage to Delia, she could understand now why he'd been so hesitant with her. He probably thought she'd be embarrassed by him too, maybe even repulsed by his touch as Delia had been.

Maybe at first she'd been timid. After all, they were strangers then. And maybe she'd been taken aback when she learned more details about his former crimes.

But now . . .

She loved him. She loved him more than anyone she'd ever known. She didn't despise him for his past because she knew the man he'd once been had helped shape him into who he was now, a God-fearing man.

She longed to be with him, to be wrapped in his arms, to have him hold her and never let go.

She wasn't like Delia in the least. Maybe it was finally time to show him that.

Emma hesitated, pressing a hand to her wildly thumping heart. Was she doing the right thing? “Heaven have mercy,” she
whispered as she forced her feet up one more of the winding tower steps.

Her nightgown swished around her bare feet. Her hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders. And she carried a blanket under one arm.

“I can't do this.” She retreated one stair before stopping herself.

She had to do it. She had to let Patrick know she was his and that she wasn't ashamed of him. He was too kind to ever force himself on her. If anything was going to happen between them, she would have to make the first move.

And the truth was, she was ready to be his wife in the fullest sense. She wanted the rest of the barriers to fall away between them and to be as close to him as possible.

She drew another deep breath and climbed several more steps, her bare feet moving soundlessly. She'd come without a lantern, feeling her way up the dark tower, the light from the top her only guide.

From above came the thud of footsteps. They were rapid for a moment, then halted, then continued again. The glow of a small lantern grew until Patrick stood on the steps above her.

“Emma, what are you doing?”

“I was on my way up to visit you,” she said, feeling foolish. “Where are you going?” She wanted to shake out the blanket and wrap it around her nightgown and cover herself before he noticed what she was wearing.

But his gaze was already raking over her. His lantern illuminated the thin linen of her nightgown and the fact that she was wearing almost nothing underneath. His eyes widened and then lifted. He took a quick step back. “I was just on my way to see where you were. I thought maybe you'd changed your mind about coming.”

His voice was breathless and echoed against the stone wall. Had he been waiting for her, even anxious to see her? The possibility made her senses reel.

“I didn't change my mind,” she said softly.

He stared at her face, but it was clear from the battle raging across his features that he wanted to lower his eyes again.

She took courage from his reaction. “I took a little longer getting ready tonight. That's all.”

“I can see that,” he said hoarsely.

Slowly she continued up the steps, not stopping until she was standing on the stair directly beneath him. He didn't move back this time. Instead, he waited, his eyes questioning her, probing deeper.

She reached for his free hand, the one not holding the lantern, and brought it to her shoulder, to the bare skin where her nightgown had slid aside. She placed his hand there, sucking in a breath when his fingers skimmed over her shoulder underneath the material to her collarbone.

“I'll never loathe your touch,” she whispered. “Never.”

He set the lantern aside, lowered himself to the step, and pulled her down onto his lap. His hand slipped to the back of her neck. Then his lips came crashing down upon hers, and his mouth moved hungrily against hers with the rhythm of the waves, ever in motion.

Strangely she didn't want it to end. It stirred in her a longing, and she wanted more. She didn't quite know what that
more
was, but she was ready.

He broke away abruptly. “I'm sorry.” He was breathing hard, and she felt the heat of it against her cheek. “I didn't mean to get carried away.”

“It's all right,” she said.

“I don't want to push you away.”

“You won't.” Her voice sounded odd to her ears, almost sultry. “I love you. And I want to be your wife.”

His fingers wound into her hair, tugging her head back and exposing her neck and the dip of her nightgown but also giving him access to her eyes.

His were filled with desire. Yet they also overflowed with something else—love. It burned there brightly. Even before he could say the words, she knew that somehow over the past month he'd fallen in love with her too.

That knowledge flooded her with joy.

“If you're sure,” he whispered.

“I'm sure,” she whispered back.

He scooped her into his arms and started back up the winding stairway. His pounding heart and the heat of his lips against her forehead were promises of the love he would give her that night.

His nose nuzzled her hair, and his breath fanned her ear. “I love you, lass. I'll always love you.”

Not only was he promising her love that night, but she knew without a doubt that he was promising her a love to last a lifetime.

D
on't you just love lighthouses? I hope you learned a lot about lighthouses and were swept back in time with
Love Unexpected
.

I wanted to write a series about lighthouses for a number of reasons. First, my state of Michigan is home to the greatest concentration of lights in the U.S. In fact, Michigan is noted as the state where the most lighthouses were built, and now today more than 120 remain compared to 500 total for the rest of the nation.

Second, I was drawn to lighthouses because I'm fascinated by the women keepers who have largely been forgotten by our modern world. During the prime lighthouse era, from the 1800s to the early 1900s, most lightkeepers were men. But occasionally women were appointed to the head keeper or assistant positions.

Michigan has the distinction of having had the most women keepers. During my research, I was thrilled to come across a book that focused on those Michigan women keepers,
Ladies
of
the Lights: Michigan Women in the U.S. Lighthouse
Service
by Patricia Majher. I loved reading about the approximately fifty women who served as principal or assistant keepers to Michigan lights. I highly recommend this book.

I knew I wanted to center my series on the women who worked in Michigan's lighthouses, but as I researched these fascinating women, I had a hard time narrowing down which of them I should bring to life.

Finally I decided on Mary Chambers Garraty, who's known as “Mother to a Lighthouse Dynasty.” Though I changed her name to Emma, I pieced together the few facts that are known about Mary Chambers. She was born in County Mayo in Ireland in 1832 and immigrated to America as a teenager. While there's no record that she came as a result of the Irish Potato Famine, I speculated that the bleak, starvation-like conditions in her homeland drove her to America as they did the hordes of other Irish immigrants at that time.

Mary settled on Mackinac Island, where she met and married Patrick Garraty in 1859. Patrick didn't become keeper of the Old Presque Isle Lighthouse until 1860, so I took some license with the dates in my story, having him as keeper a year earlier than he really was. I also took the liberty of having Mary meet Patrick while he was already a lightkeeper at Presque Isle rather than on Mackinac Island.

They lived at the Old Presque Isle Lighthouse until 1871. At that time, the district inspector reported that the keeper's dwelling was in such poor condition, it would need to be rebuilt. Because of the limitations of the lighthouse with its diminutive height, the Lighthouse Board decided to build the taller New Presque Isle Light a mile to the north on Presque Isle.

After they moved to the new lighthouse, Mary became an
assistant to her husband for the next ten years, after which one of her sons took over as assistant. Patrick and Mary had seven children in all. Four of them eventually became keepers, including one of their daughters, Anna. In fact, Mary and Anna have earned the distinction of the only mother-daughter keepers in Michigan.

I've tried to portray the Old Presque Isle Lighthouse as it originally stood. While the keeper's house the Garratys lived in is long gone (replaced by a quaint cottage), the tower remains to this day. I had the privilege of climbing the spiral stone staircase and peering out the windows over beautiful Lake Huron just as the characters in the story did.

Burnham's Landing was also a real place at the Presque Isle Harbor. Starting in the 1850s, the Burnhams acquired large tracts of Presque Isle County's rich timberland. They provided shelter to ships during foul weather, as well as selling cordwood for fuel to passing steamers. In its early days, the harbor consisted of nothing more than a couple of docks, a store, a log barn, and several shanties for fishermen.

Archdeacon William Poyseor, Holy Bill, was also a real person taken from Michigan's history. He was a circuit rider for the Episcopal Church in the small lumber towns in the UP. For the sake of the story, I moved him farther south into northern Michigan. He started as a missionary preacher in 1895 and served his scattered flock wherever he found them, traveling by Indian pony in the summer and by dogsled in the winter. He lived with parishioners and served them however he was needed and earned the beloved nickname Holy Bill because of his zeal and love for the Lord.

You may be wondering if the Great Lakes really had pirate problems as I've portrayed it in
Love
Unexpected.
While there
isn't as much recorded about freshwater pirates compared to the epic stories of ocean-faring pirates, we do know that pirating was a problem on the Great Lakes. I based Mitch on a real pirate, Dan Seavey, who terrorized the Great Lakes during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

Dan Seavey and his two-masted schooner the
Wanderer
would silently slip into ports in the dead of night and carry off anything of value, including venison, timber, and fish. He would even pluck cargo right off other boats. Sometimes he would extinguish lighthouse lanterns and replace them with fake lights, which caused unsuspecting ships to wreck, allowing the pirates access to their cargo.

Most often Seavey would dispose of his loot in Chicago, where the large criminal underworld didn't ask any questions. Seavey gained a reputation for smuggling liquor, turning his boat into a whorehouse and gambling casino, boat theft, common thievery, poaching, and murder.

Most of all, Seavey loved to fight. At the time, boxing didn't have many rules in place to protect fighters. Like most other northern Michigan fighters, Seavey followed a few simple rules: no knifing and no guns. A fighter could tear apart his opponent, so long as he only used his bare hands. While we have no evidence that Patrick Garraty was a fighter, I thought it added an interesting connection to the villain.

Seavey's life as a pirate was long and dangerous. He's said to have earned millions of dollars as an outlaw, although no one's sure what happened to his treasure because he didn't take it with him to the grave. He died a penniless pauper in a Wisconsin convalescent home.

Unlike Seavey, Mary Garraty earned the highest praise among the captains and sailors of the Great Lakes. When she died, the
Alpena Evening News
noted that “Thousands met her when they put in at Presque Isle for shelter from storms. Many a shipwrecked sailor and passenger have known Mrs. Garraty's gentle attentions and kindly hospitality.”

As you close the pages of this book, I pray you'll find hope like the heroine, that God is your home. No matter where you've wandered, no matter what you've faced, He is there as steady and constant as a lighthouse to bring you safely into His harbor where you can find rest.

A
s with all my books, I have to start by thanking the staff at Bethany House for their hard work and dedication. I'm blessed to have such a talented publisher that strives to make each of my books the best it can be. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

A very special thank you to my mom and daughters for going with me to visit Presque Isle Lighthouse on Lake Huron. It was a wonderful research trip, one I'll never forget.

Another huge thank you to my mother for helping provide feedback on my book. You are a saint for your willingness to devote large chunks of time to not only reading my drafts but also brainstorming and helping me think through the spiritual messages.

Thank you to my friend Nancy Willis for loaning me her lighthouse book
Lanterns & Lifeboats: A History of Thunder
Bay Island
by Stephen
 
D. Tongue, which proved to be an invaluable resource on the Thunder Bay and Presque Isle areas. And
thank you to Steve Tongue for answering additional questions I had about lighthouses. I truly appreciate your willingness to share your expertise with a novice like myself.

I can't forget to thank my husband and family for their continued support of my writing career. It's not always easy to live with a writer, especially one under deadline. So thank you for doing your best to understand and put up with a writer-mom!

I want to thank my Heavenly Father for always being my hope, for making beauty out of the wrecks in my life.

And finally, dear reader, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read this book. I always love hearing from readers, so don't be shy about sending me an email at
[email protected]
or visiting with me on Facebook.