Page 34 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
She managed to pry her lids apart, and for a long momentshe drew strength from his sharp blue eyes that mimicked ice but somehow still mirrored a strength that promised protection.
“It’s not your fault.” Abel tipped his head toward the window. “Those men, they’re from Hilliard’s mine. They’re sore about the ship going down. The silver mine has been underperforming, and this is a setback. Not to mention there’s so much wild superstition in the area about Annabel.”
“It was me they saw last night,” Rebecca breathed.
“I know.”
“You didn’t tell them. Why?”
Abel frowned. “Why would I tell them? We don’t know who hurt you and...” His eyes dropped to her abdomen and rose again. “And there’s no reason to put you in more danger.”
Did Abel know about the babe within her also? Rebecca’s cheeks warmed even as she responded. “But we don’t knowwhyI am in danger—at least I don’t.” She leveled a look on Abel, and he averted his eyes. “If you know something ... something about me, please tell me.”
He glanced back at her, an uninterpretable look in his eyes. It was as if he warred with saying more yet believed he should say less. “It’s too much.” Abel squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and drew in a steadying breath. “Just trust me, Rebecca.Please.”
He hadn’t given her a reason to, but he hadn’t given her a reasonnotto either. Rebecca searched his face, and he didn’t look away this time. Their eyes met in a silent plea, her for more knowledge and him for her not to ask more questions. “Edgar and I aren’t turning you out to a mining community of men.”
“Why do they hate you?” Rebecca didn’t miss the shadow that crossed Abel’s face.
He offered her a resigned smile. “Why do men hate other men? There’s always a reason, and it’s usually jealousy or greed or maybe one man thwarted another’s success.”
“And which one is your story?” Rebecca dared.
Abel’s expression steeled, and he gave a short shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. The fact is this lighthouse is the best place for you and the best place for me. Edgar can go to town if we need supplies. You and I will stay away from the madness of silver and copper ore and all the chaos it creates.”
“You never wanted to be a miner?”
Abel pushed himself up from his crouch before her and extended his hand. Rebecca tentatively reached up and took it. He helped her to her feet and then released her immediately. “No. There is nothing innately wrong with it. In fact, I suppose it is necessary. But...” He let his words hang as he turned to stare out the window. “I love the water. I love the lake. I love the roar of the waves, the unbridled power. It reminds me of God. So gentle one day, so far beyond our comprehension the next. I don’t think He should be questioned flippantly.”
“I question Him.” Rebecca’s admission surprised even her.
Abel looked to her, curiosity in his expression.
“I question why He allowed this to happen to me. W-why I am in this condition and don’t even know who I am.”
If being in her situation was teaching her anything, it was that each day was unpredictable, and each day was as dangerous as the one before.
Nighttime was becoming her nemesis.
Rebecca sat up in the bed and stared at the doorway, certain only moments before she’d heard it creak open. It was open too, but only a crack, which could be blamed on the shifting of the lighthouse.
An overwhelming sense of not being alone was what had awakened her. That eerie sensation that someone was there but just out of reach hung in her mind. She squinted into the corners of the small bedroom. Aside from Kjersti’s trunk—which she dared not open on her own out of respect for her family—therewas nothing else in the sparse room to imitate a figure. It didn’t appear as though Annabel had come calling. For that, Rebecca was both grateful and curiously disappointed. She surveyed the room again. The dresser was too bulky to be mistaken for anything but what it was. Rebecca swung her legs from the bed and padded across the wood floor to the basin and pitcher that sat on the bureau’s top. She poured water into the basin and splashed it on her face, urging the cold to startle any remaining sleep from her.
The floor creaked outside her room and Rebecca froze, her hands poised around her face as she bent over the basin, water dripping down her cheeks.
Silence.
Rebecca snatched the tea towel that hung over the bureau’s mirror and dabbed at her face.
The bedroom door began to swing open.
Rebecca spun, staring as the door moved as if of its own volition. A few inches, pausing for a moment before continuing its slow swing, until soon Rebecca stared wide-eyed into an empty hall.
She took a tentative step forward, her bare toes connecting against the cool, wood floor.
Squinting into the darkness of the hallway, Rebecca strained to see. But no one was there.
The door ended its journey when it reached the wall behind it, the knob bouncing with a quietthud.
