The Lightkeeper's Bride (7 page)

“Of course,” Katie said. It sounded like the lightkeeper. “Did you get his name?”

The woman shook her head. “I tried, but he didn’t hear me when I asked.”

“Is he still here?”

“No, miss. He left just before you arrived.”

Katie knew many of the people skating. Perhaps one of her friends could recognize him. “Did anyone else see him behind the counter?”

“I don’t think so. I was careful. I blocked him a bit. I didn’t want anyone else to ask to use the telephone.” The girl looked shamefaced.

“Did the man skate at all?”

The woman nodded her head vigorously. “Oh yes! I wouldn’t allow just anyone to place a call.”

“Is he still here?”

“Might be,” the woman said with a shrug. “Didn’t see him leave.”

“Do you know what he was wearing?” Katie knelt and strapped on her skates.

“A brown tweed coat and white shirt. Very dapper.”

“My thanks.” Katie paid her money and skated out onto the floor, shoving aside her fear.

The thunder of the rolling skates was a welcome sound. She scanned the rink and the tables, but there was no tall man in a tweed suit. She rolled around the rink for a few minutes while she assessed who was here. Some were more observant than others. A woman would be most apt to have noticed a handsome man. Katie discounted most women in the rink until she saw Sally, a parlormaid at the North household. Katie lagged at the handrail circling the room until Sally drew parallel.

“Could I speak with you a moment, Sally?” she asked.

“Miss Katie, did I do something?” Sally asked.

“Of course not. I’m hoping you can help me,” Katie said. The other woman’s troubled face cleared, and they skated off the floor to a backless bench. Once they were seated, she nodded toward the skaters rolling around the floor. “There was a man here earlier. I wondered if you’d noticed him.”

The young woman tucked a stray strand of hair back into place. “A man, miss? What did he look like?”

“Very handsome, I hear. Dark brown hair and eyes. A brown tweed coat.”

“Oh, I couldn’t have missed him! A real dresser, he was. Very dashing. He took me for a spin around the floor and asked me to go to his room. I gave him what for, I’ll tell you that. What kind of girl does he think I am?” Sally’s voice rose the longer she talked.

Katie paused. “Did you get his name?”

“No, miss.”

“You say he asked you to his room. So he’s not from Mercy Falls.

Did he tell you where he was staying?”

“Oh yes. At the Redwood Inn.”

Katie knew the proprietor. She’d have to see if he would tell her anything.

S
EVEN

T
HE BABY SAT
on a blanket with some pots and pans to bang on. The sunset cast orange bands onto the undersides of the clouds in a glorious display of God’s majesty. Will watched it a few moments then went back to searching for his weather balloon.

Paco, the mynah, meowed from a perch Will had made near the door. The first time the bird had done that, he’d been sure a stray cat had wandered in. Now he was getting used to the bird’s strange noises. He eyed the baby. He had to have help. His lightkeeper duties would entail working all night and sleeping during the day. The baby wouldn’t sleep all night and all day too. Philip hadn’t shown his face after he stormed out, and Will was certain his brother had gone back to the city. Will was too tired to be angry.

He jotted down the description of the sky in his notebook then scanned the horizon for the weather balloon. Was it still afloat? It would ascend to a high altitude, then burst and drop. He was eager to get the readings from the instruments. A flash of white caught his eye and he spotted the burst balloon over on the rocks two hundred yards down the beach. Scooping up the baby, he hurried to the location and set her down, then retrieved the balloon and his instruments. The lamp on the lighthouse would need to be lit shortly, and the night’s work of tending the light would begin. He didn’t know how he was going to get through it all.

Lanterns wavered along the quay down the beach. Boats were docking or shoving off. This was a peaceful place, and he missed the city less than he’d imagined he would. Sighing, he picked up Jennie and turned to retrace his steps. When he crested the hill, he saw a shadow move in the twilight down by the road. Squinting, he realized a buggy had pulled up while he was occupied. The man, an older gentleman in his late forties or early fifties, strode toward where he stood. The fellow wore a dark three-piece suit and bowler. His attention was fixed on the glow of lamplight spilling from the front window of the lighthouse, and he hadn’t noticed Will yet.

Will dropped his balloon and stepped out of the shadows. “Good evening. May I help you?”

The man jumped then collected himself. “Mr. Jesperson?”

“That’s right.” Will studied the fellow who hadn’t taken his eyes off Jennie. “Something I can do for you?”

“Might we step inside?”

“We may, but I’d like to know who I’m speaking with first.”

The man extended his hand. “Albert Russell.”

Will barely choked back an exclamation. Albert Russell. The man Philip wanted him to ask Eliza about. “You’re related to Miss Katie Russell?”

“My daughter.”

“Come in.” He led the way to the lighthouse and ushered his guest to the parlor. “Coffee? Tea?”

“Thank you, but no. I can’t stay long.” Mr. Russell glanced around the room, one of five inside. “Pleasant living quarters. Remote out here, but well appointed.”

“Quite.” Will was impatient to find out what was on the man’s mind. He put a wriggling Jennie on the floor, and she toddled over to grasp at Mr. Russell’s pant leg.

The man patted her head awkwardly. “Your daughter?”

“No.” Will didn’t elaborate. He was sure Miss Nosy Operator had filled her father in on the situation from last night. “How can I help you, sir?”

The man glanced at the baby then back to Will. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Jesperson. I’m looking for one of my possessions that I’d left at Miss Bulmer’s. It is no longer at her premises. I thought perhaps you picked it up with the belongings you brought here for the baby.”

“I brought nothing but diapers and clothing.” Will knew guilt when he saw it. “You had a relationship with Miss Bulmer?”

The man flushed. “That is hardly your concern.”

Was this why his daughter had offered to take Jennie—because she was aware of the affair? Will glanced at the baby, who seemed quite comfortable in Mr. Russell’s presence. Of course, Jennie didn’t seem to fear strangers. The man’s brown eyes were the same color too. But he didn’t have the cowlick like Jennie’s. That resemblance was to Philip instead.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask though. “Is Jennie your child?”

“No, she is not,” the man said, his voice rising. “Did my daughter tell you that?”

“No. How are you so certain Jennie is not your child?”

“The woman was hardly faithful to any one man. And the chit looks nothing like me.” Mr. Russell waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I realize my eyes are brown, but hers are shaped differently. Nothing about her resembles me or Eliza, so she must look like her father.”

“Dad-dad,” Jennie chanted, banging on the man’s knee with her small fist.

Will raised a brow. “She seems to know you.”

Mr. Russell removed the child from his side and straightened. “Of course she does. However, that does not mean that I sired her.”

She promptly began to wail. Will scooped her up. “So what item are you looking for?”

“It was a pocket watch. Engraved with my name on the back. My mother purchased it for me on my twenty-fifth birthday, and I’m quite loathe to part with it.”

“I found nothing like that. You’re sure it’s not at her house?”

Mr. Russell shook his head. “I searched the house before I came out here. It’s not there.” He rose. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be off now.”

Will walked the man to the door and shut it behind him. “Now what was that all about?” he asked the baby.

The Redwood Inn was in a part of town that had once been fashionable but now bore the marks of neglect. It was still respectable, but only just. The hotel was ornate and massive but its glory days were twenty years in the past. Time had taken its toll on the corbels and gingerbread trim, which had lost much of their paint. Katie skated to the picket fence gate. Darkness had fallen but the glow of gaslight pushed back the shadows with a warm yellow light. She removed her skates and walked up the porch. The bell tinkled on the door when she pushed inside.

Mr. Wilson was polishing the wooden counter when she entered. “Miss Katie,” he said. “What brings you here so late?” He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner as it chimed the time, eight o’clock. He used to stop by to play pinochle with her father, and he never failed to bring her a stick of peppermint. But it had been some years since he had done that.

A high shelf circled the room. Birds and animals of every kind stared down on her. Mr. Wilson was a taxidermist as well and he took every opportunity to display his handiwork. She shuddered and averted her eyes. “I need some information, Mr. Wilson.” She joined him at the counter. The registry lay right in front of her but she had trouble reading it upside down. Besides, she didn’t know the man’s name.

“What’s that, Miss Katie?”

“Do you have any new guests here right now? A man, in particular. Dark hair and eyes. Youngish, maybe midtwenties. Snappy dresser.”

The man bared his teeth in a grin that showed a silver-capped tooth. “You scouting for a beau, Miss Katie? I thought you and Mr. Bart were cozying up.”

Heat flamed in Katie’s cheeks. “Of course not, Mr. Wilson. This inquiry has nothing to do with any romantic feelings. Is the man here?”

“No ma’am, but I think I know who you mean. He picked up his things a few minutes ago and left to catch the packet to the city.”

“What was his name?”

“Joe Smith.” The proprietor smiled again. “A false name, I’m quite certain, but I don’t pry into the business of my customers.”

“Did he say why he was in town?”

“I didn’t ask. That would be taken for nosiness.” He gave her a pointed look.

“Thank you, Mr. Wilson. Have a good evening.” She retraced her steps to the gate by the sidewalk and put her skates back on. It would be useless to go to the dock. The last packet for San Francisco would have departed by the time she could get there.

She skated slowly back toward her house. As she reached the edge of town, she stopped to adjust her right skate and saw her father’s buggy turn from the road to the lighthouse. Why had he been out there? She was tempted to go find out. Pausing at the lane that led to her house, she decided she couldn’t bear not knowing. She skated down the concrete road to the lighthouse. When the road turned to macadam, she removed her skates and walked the rest of the way.

She heard the foghorn before she saw the lighthouse. Her breath came fast by the time she saw the light blinking its warning. As she began the climb up the hillside to the edifice atop it, she heard the wail of the baby. “That man,” she muttered. She quickened her step and reached the front door. The crying wasn’t coming from inside the house but from around the other side, near the cliff. Was Mr. Jesperson harming the child? Her hands crept into fists, and she flew around the corner of the house to confront him.

Mr. Jesperson had Jennie against his chest and he was walking back and forth across the grass. The faint refrain of “The Old Rugged Cross” lifted on the wind, and Katie stopped short. He was
singing
to her? A lump formed in her throat. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad sort.

Her father had never sung to her, but he was kind and indulgent most of the time. She didn’t know why she was allowing such dark suspicions to sway her emotions this way.

The baby’s cries faded then stopped. The little girl’s head stayed down on Mr. Jesperson’s shoulder, but he continued to hum and pat the tiny back. Such a small baby on such a big shoulder. He was even more attractive when he was showing such tenderness to a child. Her earlier misgivings assaulted her. Could he really be the baby’s father and not his brother as he’d claimed?

Before she could examine the thought further, he turned and spotted her in the moonlight. Wariness replaced his placid expression.

She managed a smile. “Is she asleep?”

“Finally. Let me put her down.”

He carried Jennie to the door. Katie followed him into the house, where he laid the baby in a crib in the parlor.

“There’s no bedroom for her?”

He shot her a quick glance. “I’m supposed to stay in the light tower all night, but there is no way I can do that and watch her too.

I moved her crib in here so I can nap on the sofa between trimming the wicks.”

“You look tired,” she said, observing the circles under his eyes.

“I was unable to sleep today after being up all night.” He covered the baby with a blanket then patted her back when she stirred. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to find out why my father was here.”

He turned, and his brown eyes crinkled with his smile. “Just can’t stand it, can you, Miss Nosy Operator?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have come.” She turned toward the door.

“At least now I know why you wanted to take charge of Jennie,” he said.

She turned back to face him. His expression warned her of the meaning of his words. “He admitted his involvement with Eliza?”

“In so many words. He was looking for a pocket watch he left at her house. Did you see such an item?”

“No.” She knew the watch of which he spoke.

“I assume he fears if it’s found he’ll be a suspect in Miss Bulmer’s disappearance.”

“He had nothing to do with it,” she said quickly. She wished she was as convinced as she sounded. “I’m sorry to trouble you. I’ll be on my way.”

“I quite dislike you traveling back to town alone in the dark,” he said. “Why don’t you take my horse? You can bring it back tomorrow. After the attack on you in the kitchen yesterday, I’m unwilling to see you in harm’s way.”

She nodded. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Mr. Jesperson. I shall return your horse tomorrow.”