The Lightkeeper's Ball (29 page)
T
HE MOON WAS
out, illuminating the shrubs and flowers along Pacific Way. Harrison hadn’t intended to walk this far. And he especially had no intention of walking past the mansion where Lady Devonworth slept behind the stone walls. He paused at the driveway to the Stewart estate. No lights winked in the windows. The only movement was the wind through the live oak tree branches.
What was he doing here? He’d thought a walk would clear his head, but it only made him more confused about what the future held. The night was silent, broken only by the distant sound of the surf on the rocks and the click of Nealy’s nails on the sidewalk beside him. There was no voice from God telling him what he should do now. He didn’t have much to offer a lady. No security, only his dream of building a flying machine that would make a difference.
It was only when he turned to retrace his steps that a troubling sound broke the night air. He paused, listening. A cat in distress? Had her dratted kitten gotten into trouble again? Shrugging, he took another step toward home, but Nealy whined and went a few feet closer to the house.
“Come on, Nealy,” Harrison said, continuing to walk away.
He’d gone only three feet when he heard a woman cry out. The utterance sounded like
his
name. Nealy barked and ran toward the manor. Harrison whirled and looked toward the house to see if Lady Devonworth had spotted him and wanted to talk. The house was still dark and motionless. Now that he thought about it, the cry had been distant, apart from the house.
Though aware he was trespassing, he jogged around the side of the mansion to the backyard. The gardens were extensive. Shrubs and trees blocked his vision as he stared. “Lady Devonworth?” His voice seemed loud in the dark. “Are you back here?”
Nealy barked, a ferocious sound. The dog raced off into the night.
He heard a man yell, “Let go of me!”
Harrison raced toward the sound. A dark figure bowled him over, then darted away, leaving a whiff of chloroform in his wake. Harrison jumped back to his feet. His inclination was to give chase, but what if Lady Devonworth was hurt? His chest tightened.
He turned back toward the sea and rushed on. “Lady Devonworth!” he yelled. The scent of chloroform increased his anxiety.
He followed Nealy’s barking and found the dog at the edge of the cliff. The dog peered over the edge and howled. Harrison stared down into the water. The whitecaps caught the gleam of moonlight as they rolled to the rocks. He scoured the water, praying not to see a person in that treacherous riptide.
Nealy continued to whine even though Harrison commanded him to be quiet several times. His eyes narrowed. Was that an arm thrown above the waves? He dropped to one knee and leaned over the edge. His gut clenched when it came again. A person struggled in the rough seas below.
“Essie!”
Leaping to his feet, he kicked off his boots and tore the coat from his back, then dived over the cliff. He attempted to miss the rocks by timing his headlong entrance into the water to match the breaking waves. The wind rushed by his face and nearly took his breath away as he plummeted toward the salty spray. Seconds later the cold water closed over his head. His knee struck a rock, and pain encased his leg.
He kicked out with his good leg. His face broke the surface of the water and he drew a breath into his burning lungs. “Essie!” He jerked around wildly for any sight of her. Striking off in the direction where he’d last seen her, he swam several feet, then treaded water while he searched the waves for her.
Had he been mistaken? Maybe he had seen a piece of flotsam. The undertow pulled at him, trying to drag him out to sea. He let it carry him awhile, praying it would take him to her. The current turned and rolled him parallel to the coast.
“Where are you?” he screamed over the sound of the waves. If she’d been drugged, how could she fight the heavy surf? A splash sounded beside him, and he saw his dog swimming with determination to his right. A surge lifted Harrison high. As he crested the top and began to fall into the trough, he spotted a white face in the water. “Dear God, help me.”
He began to swim toward her, but Nealy reached her first. The dog seized the collar on her dress in his teeth and began to paddle toward the shore. Harrison kicked closer to them, then dived to prevent a wave from washing him past her. Reaching out, he managed to grab hold of something. As his head broke the surface, he realized he had hold of her hair. With his other hand he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her closer. Her eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Good dog, Nealy,” he crooned. “I’ve got her now.”
The dog released her and swam alongside Harrison. Harrison pulled her close but still couldn’t tell if she lived. He had to get her to land. The undertow took a tighter hold and tried to take him under, but he kicked out and managed to break its grip. Swimming at an angle to the shore, he fought the waves to keep her head out of the water. Inch by inch he drew closer to the rocks. At first he saw no place for a suitable landing. His strength was fading fast. His clothes dragged him down. His kicks were taking more and more energy, especially with his knee screaming with pain.
His head went under and he came up sputtering. Somehow he managed to keep her nose out of the water. He willed her chest to move, for him to see some sign of life. Another wave lifted them and carried them toward the rocks. Just as he thought they were both about to be crushed against the teeth of the shore, he heard Nealy barking. The dog had reached a flat spot and pulled himself onto a smooth stone. Harrison thought they might be able to land. He struck out for it. The surge ended just shy of the cliffs, and his feet touched the bottom.
Half carrying and half dragging her, he staggered ashore and collapsed onto the sand. Panting, he rolled her onto her stomach across his legs and pushed on her back. Seawater came from her mouth. He pushed again, but she lay inert. He laid her face up on the rocks and patted her cheek.
“Get help, Nealy,” he told the panting collie. The dog barked and ran away.
Harrison touched her again. “Don’t die,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She was cold, so cold. Olivia coughed at the burning in her lungs and tasted salt and kelp. She gradually became aware of hard rock under her cheek and the warmth of a hand on her back.
“Esmeralda, you’re alive.”
Even half-drowned, she recognized the relief in Harrison’s voice as he called her that ridiculous name. What was he doing here?
I love you
.
The words in Harrison’s voice reverberated in her head. What a strange dream she was having. She coughed and the harsh sound brought her fully to her senses. This was no dream. The Pacific roared off to her right, and its foam struck her in the face when she struggled to sit up. The black rocks cut into her palms, and salt stung her cut lips.
She coughed again. “What happened?”
Harrison supported her back. “Easy now. How much do you remember?”
She tensed. “A man. He put a cloth over my nose and it choked me. I think he threw me over the cliff.”
He pulled her closer against his chest when she shivered. “He nearly knocked me down running away.”
She managed to get her eyes to focus. “You’re wet too. You saved me?”
“Nealy helped. God made sure we were in the right place at the right time.”
He brushed his lips over her forehead, and she turned her face into his wet shirt. His arms held her close. The moment seared her with its intimacy. And those words continued to reverberate in her heart.
I love you
.
Why did she hear them in her head? Her teeth began to chatter. “I’m so cold,” she muttered.
“I’ve got to get you to the house and fetch the doctor.”
He helped her up and turned her toward the black cliffs that glistened with moisture in the moonlight. There appeared to be no clear path to the top. She had little strength to climb, and her ankle throbbed. They walked a few feet, and she realized he was limping as well.
She paused and looked up at him. “Are you injured?”
“Just a bruised knee.” His face was tipped up as he studied the formidable barrier in front of them. “I think there’s a path around the point, but it’s a little distance. Can you make it?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
They set off on the rocks slippery with kelp and seaweed. Her breath came hard through her burning chest. She realized she’d nearly drowned in the same manner as Eleanor. “I-I have to rest,” she gasped. She sank onto a boulder.
He sat beside her, and his breathing was as labored as hers. “I’d go on to get help, but I’m not sure it’s safe to leave you. Do you know who tried to kill you?”
She remembered the hard hands, the overpowering odor of the chemical-laden cloth. “I don’t know. It was too dark to see.” Staring up the rock face, she shuddered. “I think this is how Eleanor died. Was she found here?”
“Yes.”
She shivered and clasped her arms around her. “I would have drowned if you hadn’t saved me.”
When her hand touched his, he grasped it and raised it to his lips. “I’m thankful God brought me out for a walk.”
She remembered her panicked flailing when she struck the water. The way she’d prayed for God to save her. Had he seen her struggles in the water? Had he really provided a hero for her tonight, or had it all been coincidence? In the cold blackness of the sea, she’d felt alone and abandoned. Addie said God saw everything. Maybe she was right.
“Are you ready to try again?” he asked when she shivered once more.
“Yes.” She hoisted herself up and clung to his arm along the slippery rocks. The wet nightdress hampered her every move and was heavy enough to slow her progress.
I love you
.
Was that God talking to her? The voice had sounded like Harrison to her. Or maybe it was all a dream. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she wished she had the courage to ask him.
“You’re looking at me in a most odd way,” he said. “Is there something wrong?”
“D-Did you speak to me before I awakened?” He glanced away, and she wished she hadn’t said anything.
“I feared you were dead.”
He wasn’t going to tell her what he’d said. Were words of love on his tongue only her wishful thinking?
