Page 14 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
Rebecca did so, sipping tea from a tin cup and worrying about how she could possibly stay at the lighthouse with two men. But she couldn’t even recall her surname, let alone where she was from. Still, the men—the ones who’d come from down the way with lanterns, ready to battle the storm with Edgar and Abel—they had to come from Silvertown.
“Perhaps I should go with you,” Rebecca tried again. “To Silvertown.”
Niina shook her head, keeping her back to Rebecca as she kneaded more dough. “No. You’ll stay here. Where it is safe.”
“Surely someone there can help me.”
A small laugh escaped the older woman. “Of course. A throng of copper and silver miners, the one-legged captain who owns the merchant shop, and more miners? Homes are scattered about. It’s less a town and more a wilderness dotted with ramshackle shacks, mining camps, and a main street. Have younorecollection of where you are, child?” Niina turned, her hands covered in flour, a questioning expression on her round face.
Rebecca gave her head a sheepish shake. “None.”
“And no recollection of what happened to you?”
Another shake of her head.
A deep frown creased the skin between Niina’s eyes. “Your family? Do you remember them?”
“Do I have a family?” Rebecca challenged. Niina knew Rebecca could not bake bread. Niina was surprised that Rebecca had asked for her name. Niina also knew there was danger associated with her. It felt as though the truth was being dangled in front of her like a steak in front of a dog but kept just out of reach because they believed the steak to be laced with poison. “You say it isn’t safe,” Rebecca said, running her hand up her arm, not needing to remind herself of the bruises hidden beneath her dress sleeve. “Do you know why?” She was hopeful, and she breathed a prayer that Niina would take pity on her and tell her what she knew.
Niina continued to knead her dough. “Few of us have family in Silvertown.” She had sidestepped Rebecca’s question. “Down the way in Ontonagon, you’ll find civilization. Women, children, a church, a post office, and the like. But Silvertown and this lighthouse, well, it’s a dream, that’s what it is. A rich man’s dream to get richer. There is nofamilyin Silvertown.”
“Maybe I’m from Ontonagon. Perhaps I should go there.” The door opened, cutting Rebecca’s musing short.
Edgar and Abel entered the living space, making the small kitchen even more cramped. Edgar pushed through the room and disappeared into the house beyond. Abel paused, and Rebecca didn’t miss the quick survey he gave her person. That he recognized his sister’s clothes was evident by the shadow that crossed his face.
Instead of commenting, he moved to the short counter and lifted a slice of warm bread. “Mmm, it is delicious,Äiti.”
Niina batted his chest, snatching the slice of bread from his hand. “Go. You get dry and warm before you catch your death, and then come back and I will slice more for you.”
Abel dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek, bending over a significantly long way to do so. The difference in their heights was stark. Rebecca shrank into her chair as Abel passed by. His clothes were damp, his dark hair was ruffled and stuck out in multiple directions. He paused by Rebecca and looked down at her.
“You are dry now. Good. I should not have left you to yourself in the lighthouse.” Gentle reprimand tinged his voice.
“Joo!” Niina spun from where she had pounded the dough into a firm ball. “What were you thinking?”
Abel shrugged. “That Rebecca would stay put, just as she promised.” He turned to Rebecca, and they locked gazes. His look was expectant, the cool ice blue of his eyes such a stark contrast to his dark hair that they appeared almost ethereal.
Rebecca felt warmth leave her face, then it swept back up in a rush to her cheeks. Something inside of her craved him. But he was dangerous too. She could sense it.
He looked away from her and back to his mother. “I’m going to get dry.”
Minutes later, both men had returned to the kitchen, and their presence made Rebecca wish to hide. Between Edgar’s glowering and undisguised surveyance of her and Abel’s attempts to not look at her, she felt a bit like a porcelain dollin the midst of rough little boys who didn’t know what to do with it.
She was never more grateful for Niina’s presence, and she dreaded the moment Abel’s mother took her departure. Why the woman wouldn’t take Rebecca along struck a nerve with her, and she wished to demand a reason for this. But she didn’t. Because she was afraid. There was no other reason. Rebecca didn’t know who to trust, but something in Niina’s refusal to take Rebecca home with her to Silvertown was emphasized by caution and intent. It made Rebecca believe that Niina was being sincere in her offer of security here at the lighthouse.
Niina set plates with fresh bread in front of both men. “Do we know anything about last night’s wreck?”
“It wasn’t a passenger ship. The ship was due in Ontonagon and was carrying mining supplies.” Abel’s response was muffled around a bite of bread. “The men lost were the ship’s crew.”
“Such sad loss of life.” Niina clucked her tongue.
Edgar huffed. “I pity the dead, but the wreck ... it sticks it to Hilliard and his cronies.”
“Edgar.” Niina’s voice held warning.
He jerked his head up to spear her with a look. “What? Truth is what truth is.” He glanced at Rebecca, then back at Niina. “Hilliard has no respect for the land round here. No respect for those what been here long before he ever came. I remember when this place was just an outpost and we traded with the Ojibwe. Respectable men—goodmen—and then people like Hilliard come in. They ignore all local knowledge and think they can get rich.”
“Hilliard was already rich,” Abel groused around another bite of bread.
