Page 37 of Tempest at Annabel's Lighthouse
But it meant that she had known a man, beencloseto a man, created achildwith a man—and yet she could not recall him. Could not summon up the slightest remembrance, and it curled her insides with an anxiety Rebecca didn’t know how to rein in. The questions she now considered were awful ones: Had she been happy to be with child? Did she love the child’s father? Had something far more dreadful left her with the pregnancy and that was part of why she was in trouble—in danger even?
“You are a chilling reminder...”The man’s words could be in reference to her and the babe. Perhaps they reminded this man of mistakes made, or perhaps it jeopardized his future in a way she and the babe were best gotten rid of. A scandal perhaps, or worse. She might be some man’s secret, and the babe what threatened to expose him.
Rebecca strained to remember as she watched the lake rolling in with its steady waves. Edgar stood on the embankment, his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. It was a beautiful spring day, nature beckoned, and she was imprisoned in the lighthouse to avoid being seen.
“Do you fear the child?” The voice came in a whisper overRebecca’s shoulder. She glanced behind her. No one was there, yet she could see the icy eyes surrounded by curling dark lashes. She could hear the tempered anticipation in her voice.
It was another memory.
It was of Kjersti.
Rebecca closed her eyes to allow the memory entrance. To remember Kjersti, if she couldn’t remember Abel or Niina or Edgar.
“Do you fear the child?” Kjersti asked.
“I fear the future.”That had been Rebecca’s response. She had trusted Kjersti. Kjersti had been her closest friend ... she thought.
“It will be all right.”In the memory, Kjersti was folding linens, dry from the clothesline.“You’ll see. You’re safe now. The babe will be safe too.”
“Will it?”Rebecca asked.
Kjersti paused, her hands gripping a pillowcase.“Abel will make sure of it. As will Edgar. My mother will stay in town, and she’ll listen ... she’ll hear if something is amiss.”
“I’m afraid.”Rebecca’s admission coiled within even now as she remembered.
Kjersti allowed the pillowcase to fall onto the pile of unfolded laundry.
Rebecca noticed that Kjersti had shadows under her eyes. Beads of sweat dotted her friend’s forehead.
“Don’t be afraid, Rebecca,”Kjersti whispered.
“Are you all right, child?”
Niina’s voice startled Rebecca. She jumped, spinning from her view out the window, lost in her memory of Kjersti.
“Don’t be afraid.”
The joy of retrieving a lost memory was shrouded in the turmoil of all the ones still swirling inside of Rebecca, unknown and yet to be seen.
Niina came alongside Rebecca, her shorter, rounder form bringing with it the smell of freshly baked cinnamon bread. She was unaware of the tumult within Rebecca. Unaware that Rebecca had remembered her daughter, Kjersti, which confirmed in Rebecca’s mind what she’d assumed. Shehadknown Niina and Abel and Edgar before being found on Annabel’s grave. They did have a story, and whatever it was, Rebecca had been hiding here. At the lighthouse. With her babe, with Kjersti... She stilled, confusion swelling within her. But no. Kjersti had died here at the lighthouse. With fever. Had Kjersti’s death been more recent? As in two or three months?
Rebecca’s hand found the mound of her abdomen. She couldn’t be more than three or four months along, could she? She was small, her pregnancy barely seen.
Niina’s voice broke through her spinning thoughts, her question inane enough to bring Rebecca soaring into the present and leaving the questions deep in her subconscious.
“Do you know how the Porcupine Mountains got their name?”
Rebecca shook her head. She looked back out the window, a wistful feeling coming over her. Wistful and wishing ... but wishing for what? That she could be free? That she could remember? That fear could be exchanged for joy? For hope?
“The Indians say that years ago, a giant porcupine took a drink from the Lake of the Clouds and was frozen for all of time.” Niina’s smile was indulgent of the story.
Rebecca held the lake in her focus. “It’s a sad story in a way.”
“It is.” Niina nodded. “And you feel trapped here, like the giant porcupine, don’t you?”
Rebecca gave a small laugh. “Yes.” No use denying it.
Niina matched Rebecca’s stare through the windowpanes. “If you were a man, I would advise you to disappear into the mountains and be rid of this life. Start a new one. Only you are not a man, and you bear a new life inside of you.”
