Page 36 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
“She’ll be fine.” Niina nodded. She met Rebecca’s eyes. “You rest. You’ve not been going easy on yourself or the baby since you arrived here, and that’s unwise.” The reprimand was soft, as though Niina didn’t hold her completely at fault. Niina turnedto her son. “I’m going to go make tea for Rebecca. You stay with her.”
Abel nodded as his mother pushed past him. They weren’t demonstrative, mother and son, but there was an evident bond of familial loyalty between them that pricked at Rebecca. It stung her deep inside and revealed something she had never had. Never experienced. Or, at least she didn’t think she had.
Rebecca frowned. That was a memory, wasn’t it? The unbidden realization that she wasn’t close to whoever had been or was her family?
The mattress sagged beneath Abel’s weight as he lowered himself onto the edge. He searched her face. “What happened last night? I heard you scream, and then the crash. Edgar heard it up in the lighthouse. We both came running. You were all cut up from the pitcher breaking, but we couldn’t get you to come to.”
The memory was still as vivid as when it happened. The opening door, the creaking floor, the burst of frightful cold air, and then the black, sooty holes where the woman’s—Annabel’s?—eyes should have been. Her breath—the smoke-filled breath—all so real, and now it felt so like a dream. A conjured vision, real but not real. It wasn’t like the other night when Kjersti’s and Annabel’s ghosts had come to visit. This was more like a mist. Rebecca wondered if she’d actually seen it, or if her mind was playing cruel tricks on her.
“I-I dropped the pitcher,” Rebecca finally answered.
The doubt in Abel’s eyes told her he didn’t believe her, and the way he studied her told her he was able to see through her emotions. His eyes narrowed, scanning her features, telling her without words that he knew. He knew of her fear, her confusion, her loneliness. That she was lost inside of herself, was something he understood—and how Rebecca knew that Abel understood this was a mystery. He had not said a word and yet their exchange of looks communicated more than any vocabularycould have in that moment. Someone had once told her that when you met a kindred soul, it took no introduction, and you could sit by them for years with no names exchanged and you would be closer to them than one’s own family.
Rebecca bit the inside of her lip.
Someone had once told her...
A sprig of hope flickered inside of her. If she was remembering little things, perhaps the big things would be soon to follow.
“All right.” Abel nodded, even though he had been waiting for her to expound on her story of last night. “I’ll leave it at that.” Yes. He knew. He knew she was withholding, and while part of Rebecca was alarmed Abel could read her so well, another part of her was drawn to the safety of that. To have someone else wish to slip in alongside of her, to guide her—it was tempting to tell Abel all she knew. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much.
But then he seemed to know something too. What had he told Niina? He’d hoped they had thought Rebecca wasdead?
Abel cleared his throat, and Rebecca met his eyes. “They are looking for you. Men. My mother met them on her way here after Edgar went to retrieve her.”
“Do you know them?” Rebecca pretended she hadn’t already heard the conversation between Abel and his mother.
He shook his head and lied; she was sure of it. “No. But you must stay here, Rebecca, in the lighthouse. You mustn’t go out—even to the shore. If the miners from earlier thought you were Annabel, then these men will know you areyou.”
“And they’re dangerous?” Rebecca pressed, wondering why Abel wouldn’t tell her what he’d meant when he identified them earlier as “hismen”—whowas thisheAbel and Niina had referred to?
Abel’s look told her the answer should be self-evident. “They attacked you already and left you in this state. Of course they are dangerous.”
“I don’t understand.” She didn’t mean to sound so pitiful, buther words came out before she could bite her tongue and suppress her confusion.
Abel leaned forward but didn’t reach out for her, his expression urgent for her to hear him. “Do you have any idea, any idea at all what happened to you that night before Edgar found you?”
Rebecca strained to remember. Perhaps if she offered a little of her truth, Abel would reveal some of his. “The other night, I had a memory of a man shouting at me. We were on a rock outcropping, and the lake was splashing my dress. That’s why I left the lighthouse, to see if I could find this rock. But—”
There was no need to reveal the vision of Annabel.
“Do you remember this man?” Abel’s brow furrowed.
“He’s faceless. I just recall his voice. He was so angry, so aggressive. The fear I felt was, well, it was strong...” Her voice trailed as she remembered, hearing the words again in her mind in all their vitriol.
Abel ducked his head, a strand of dark hair falling over his forehead. “There are men—we’ve already told you about them. Hilliard and his mine. The investors. Silvertown is growing, and Hilliard has big plans. If you crossed them in any way, they would want retribution.” He waited as if that might engage a memory for her, or trigger something more she could provide him.
But Rebecca knew nothing. The name “Hilliard”, the mine, even Silvertown felt as distant and imaginary as if it had been another life. Rebecca stilled. Ithadbeen another life. It had been the life before she had lost her memories.
She could only offer Abel a look of regret. She had nothing to give him for answers. “I-I don’t remember. I don’t know. What could I have possibly done to anger someone like him?”
Abel’s mouth thinned, and he nodded in acceptance of her reply, though he gave her no answer to her inquiry. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes as if to center himself. When he opened them again, Rebecca was looking directly intothose icy blue depths, only this time they had darkened. A storm was brewing inside Abel. She could see it.Feelit.
Yes. She could feel Abel the same way, it seemed, he could feel her. He was a tempest, he was brewing, his emotions were barely controlled and just as the lake, the calm was merely a façade for the rough waters that lay just beneath the surface. No.
She and Abel could sense other. Somehow, Rebecca knew theyunderstoodeach other. They would not be able to keep their secrets much longer.
She stared out the window, her palm resting on her abdomen. It was firm beneath her hand, a small mound that could barely be seen, telling her she was not far along in her pregnancy.
