The Lightkeeper's Woman. Mary Burton

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The Lightkeeper's Woman - Mary  Burton

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Smoots brushed past her, knocking her shoulder with his as he moved toward a table in a darkened corner where three other sailors sat. He said something to the men and they all laughed as they stared at Alanna.

      Alanna could feel her courage slipping. When she’d received Caleb’s terse message days ago the urge to right old wrongs had burned hot. Time and fear had cooled the fire in her.

      The barkeep, a burly man with a belly that hung over his belt, looked up from the glass of gin he was pouring. Surprise flickered as the barman set down the bottle and moved from behind the bar toward her.

      Lantern light flickered on the white strands of the barman’s red beard and a gold loop hung from his left ear, winking in the lantern light. His crooked nose looked as if it had been broken more than once. He grinned as he wiped his hands on his soiled apron. “Name’s Sloan. Can I help you?”

      Alanna’s mouth felt as dry as cotton as Sloan’s gaze slid up and down her body. Her fingers clamped tighter around the handle of her valise. “I’m looking for Captain Pitt,” she said in a soft voice.

      All traces of humor vanished from Sloan’s face. “Who’d you say?”

      Just speaking Caleb’s name left her edgy and restless. “Caleb Pitt,” she said in a louder voice. “Do you know where I can find him?”

      The tavern room went deadly quiet and the men who’d been staring at her looked away.

      Sloan’s eyes narrowed. The innkeeper studied her and she had the sense that she was being tried and judged. She wondered briefly if Caleb had told him about her. The old Caleb was a man who’d always kept his own counsel, but the new Caleb was a stranger to her.

      “He ain’t in town,” Mr. Sloan said.

      The tension that had been knotting her muscles frizzled into anger. “I thought he lived here in town. He listed Easton as his address.”

      “He lives here sometimes, but he ain’t here now.”

      “Then where can I find him?”

      Mr. Sloan nodded toward the front door. “It’s best you leave.”

      Alanna couldn’t go back to Richmond, not when she was so close to settling matters once and for all. “I’ve traveled too far to turn back.”

      The innkeeper started back toward the bar. “Cut your losses. Leave.”

      Alanna lifted her chin up. “I’m sure someone will tell me where I can find the captain if I wait long enough. I am willing to pay,” she said a little louder.

      Alanna looked around the smoky room. Slowly, the men started to talk among themselves, and she had the distinct impression she was their topic of conversation. A minnow among sharks, she thought vaguely as she tapped her foot and counted the seconds until she could leave.

      She moved into the room, aware that Mr. Sloan watched her as she walked toward a chair at an unoccupied corner table. Sloan hurried across the room. “What do you think you’re doing?”

      “Sitting down.” She nodded toward a wobbly chair. “Aren’t you going to pull back my chair for me?”

      At first Sloan stared at her. Then, sighing, he yanked the chair out from under the table. “Rest your bones a few minutes, and then I want you gone.”

      Alanna gifted him with her best smile and sat down, her back to the wall. She took a moment to adjust the rich folds of her velvet skirts.

      Bracing a hand on the back of her chair, he leaned forward and said in a low voice. “I know who you are and I can tell you that the captain don’t want anything to do with you. Do yourself a favor and leave the past buried.”

      Heat burned her cheeks and stomach. How many times had she prayed the past would just go away? But each time happiness was within her grasp, bitterness and anger spawned by a thousand unanswered questions swept it away.

      Unshed tears burned her throat. “I’ve no choice in the matter. I must find Captain Pitt.”

      Mr. Sloan shook his head as he straightened. “Too bad.”

      Alanna almost laughed at the irony. For two years she’d avoided the idea of facing Caleb. Now when he was so close, she met one roadblock after another, almost as if the fates didn’t want her to see him.

      She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”

      The innkeeper shook his head. “It don’t work that way here, missy. You tell me what you want, then I’ll decide if I talk.”

      Sighing, she realized she’d have to give Sloan a little information. “My father passed on recently. He left the captain a package, and I’m here to deliver it to him.”

      “What kind of package?”

      Alanna pulled a small teak box from her cape pocket and set it on the table. It measured six inches by six and was fastened tightly with a polished brass lock. It was the same box her attorney had mailed to Caleb, the same box he’d returned. “This kind.”

      A bit of the wariness faded from Sloan’s sharp gaze as he stared at the box. “Give your parcel to me. I’ll run it out to the island the next time I take the captain’s supplies.”

      Alanna remembered Caleb’s terse response to her letter. I want nothing from you or your father. We are finished. The fire that had driven her hundreds of miles from home burned anew. “I intend to deliver it to him myself.”

      The creases in his leathery face deepened as his eyes narrowed. “Ain’t this desire of yours to see him a little late?”

      So, Caleb had told Sloan who she was. Defensive, Alanna raised her chin. “There are things you don’t know.”

      Mr. Sloan shook his head as he appraised her. “You’re trouble.”

      “If you think your unwillingness to help will chase me away, you are very wrong. One way or the other, Mr. Sloan, I’m going to see the captain.”

      “Suit yourself, but you’ll get no help from me or anyone else in this village.” He turned and walked away.

      Alanna rose, her napkin clutched in her hand. “Mr. Sloan!”

      “You won’t find anyone to take you.”

      “I’ve no intention of causing trouble for the captain.”

      He waved away her words.

      Frustrated, she glanced toward the bar where five seamen openly stared at her. In a voice loud enough for all to hear, she said, “I need someone to take me to the barrier. And I’m willing to pay.”

      Realizing she’d addressed them, the sailors dropped their gazes into their tankards.

      “None of them will do it,” Sloan said from behind the bar.

      “I just want to give him this box, then I will leave him in peace.”

      “Leave the captain alone,” a sailor

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