A Light For My Love by Alexis Harrington Read Free Book Online

wasn't much of a dinner for a big man used to big meals.
After a second's hesitation she went to the oven and pulled out the
warm plate Aunt Gert had left there for Jake.
    She glanced over her shoulder now and then,
half expecting to see him. She didn't know why he hadn't come
downstairs for dinner, and she supposed she should have gone to get
him. After all, the money he'd paid secured him a place at the
table. But, blast it, she'd told him what time dinner was served.
She herself had been so edgy, her food had sat untouched. The shock
of seeing him again, combined with the anticipation of having to
sit across the table from him, took her appetite. When he didn't
appear, she was relieved.
    Just as she was filling a coffee cup to
complete the meal, she heard footfalls pounding down the back
stairs. Alert to the sound, she lifted her head. Jake. She knew it
was him—no one else in the house used that staircase. Quickly she
grabbed her old shawl from its hook next to the back door and threw
it over her head and shoulders.
    The steps grew closer.
    She snatched up the tray and—silver, there
was no silver. Her heart beating fast, she put the tray on the
table again. Then she rushed to the china cabinet and jerked open a
drawer to pluck out a fork, knife, and spoon. Footsteps sounded in
the hall.
    Hurry, she told herself. She had to be
outside before Jake saw her. She pulled open the back door and
rushed into the foggy winter night.
    *~*~*
    Jake arrived in the kitchen just in time to
see an indistinct female figure run past the window through the
misty light that reached the walk. The blue gingham curtain on the
back door pane still swung gently on its rod. He walked to the door
and opened it, but couldn't see much besides the vague shape of her
skirt moving across the yard toward the carriage house. He closed
the door again and scanned the room. The smell of food lingered in
the air, but there was none to be seen.
    His stomach growled, and Jake, his appetite
raging and his patience gone, strode down the hallway. He looked in
the dining room, the library, and the front and back parlors. He
found no one except an old man dozing in a chair by the fire in the
back parlor. One of the boarders, Jake assumed. He retraced his
steps to the kitchen, but China wasn't there. No one was there.
    Baffled, but by far more irritable and
hungry, Jake walked back to the front door and let himself out. His
boots carried him down the path to the sidewalk. He glanced back at
the big house. Jake had few regrets in his life. He hoped that
returning to Astoria wouldn't prove to be one of them.

Chapter Two

    China stood before a lamp set on a small
cherry table at the second-floor hall window. Given the elegance of
most of the other furniture in the house, this serviceable lamp was
plain to the point of homeliness. Lacking even a hint of
decoration, its chimney and base were clear glass, showing its wide
ribbon of wick floating in the kerosene. She had others that were
much prettier and more delicate of craftsmanship, made of milk
glass and hand-painted with roses and forget-me-nots. But to China,
no other lamp burned as bright, no other was as necessary. She
patted her apron pocket to make sure she had matches, and heard the
dock downstairs mark the quarter hour. Fifteen past ten. Usually
she lit the wick right after sunset, but so much had happened
today, she hadn't been able to get to it. Now it was late and
everyone in the house had settled down for the night.
    Everyone except Jake.
    She extended her hands to lift the lamp's
chimney, then paused. Pulling aside the lace curtain, she tried to
see down to the street, looking for an approaching figure. The gas
streetlight on the corner was a watery yellow orb in the mist,
seemingly suspended high above the sidewalk with no post. She
couldn't see anything except black night and the rain that had
fallen steadily since morning.
    Jake wasn't home. She knew because she'd
crept up to the attic a few moments