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

earlier to check. She hadn't
heard anything of him since he'd come pounding downstairs just
after dinner, and she assumed he'd gone out. Slinking along the
passageway like a thief, a skill at which she was becoming quite
adept, she'd seen no band of light under his closed door. She'd
knocked once, sharply, then swung the door open and found the room
empty. She hadn't stayed there long—what if he'd walked in and
found her? He might think she wanted to talk to him or something.
Besides, the room was uncomfortably chilly. But she'd been there
long enough to glimpse his sea bag propped against the wall, and
his chronometer and octant on the dresser, so she knew he'd be
back.
    Well, he'd better step lively, she told
herself. If he thought she was joking about locking him out at
ten-thirty, he was in for a surprise. She would lock him out and
not feel a moment's remorse. At least she told herself she
wouldn't.
    As she pondered this, she heard footsteps on
the back stairs up to the attic and knew her threat wouldn't be
tested tonight.
    A whisper of relief brushed her. Not because
she cared what happened to him, she told herself. Certainly not.
Jake Chastaine could sleep in the gutter for all she cared. Forcing
herself back to the task at hand, she removed the lamp chimney and
struck a match on the matchbox.
    "For all men gone to sea, living and lost,"
she intoned, touching the match to the wick. "May you find the way
back to your home port." She replaced the chimney and light filled
the end of the hall. Continuing the tradition her mother had begun
as a seafarer's bride, China said this blessing every evening.
    For all men gone to sea ...
    For her father, for her brothers. But never
for Jake Chastaine. He was the only one who had found his way back,
she reflected again, and still her mind could barely comprehend it.
She'd seen him, infuriatingly handsome, taller than ever, vaguely
threatening. She'd talked to him and heard his voice, full and
mature.
    As she headed back downstairs to lock the
doors, she knew that though she had to let him sleep in her house,
she would never forgive him for what he'd done.
    *~*~*
    "Captain Olin Meredith, this is Jake
Chastaine. He'll be staying with us while his ship is in dry dock"
China introduced the two men, nearly shouting at the old sailor,
whose hearing had faded.
    She made an effort to ignore the way Jake
looked this dark, rainy morning as he stood at the mantel in the
dining room, his back to the fire. The various shades of blond in
his hair shone under the gaslight of the chandelier. He wore an
oatmeal-colored wool sweater that revealed the stretch of his
shoulders. The sleeves were pushed up on his forearms, which were
dusted with sun-bleached hair. His dark blue wool pants fit close
against his flat belly and long legs. When China lifted her eyes to
his face, she realized he'd caught her staring, and heat rose to
her cheeks. He gave her a long, steady look before turning his
attention to the captain. She quickly turned her gaze to the
tablecloth.
    Captain Meredith appraised Jake from under
bushy white brows. The captain's face was florid and leathery, his
hands as gnarled as driftwood. The ever present meerschaum pipe
damped between his teeth was unlit, in compliance with China's ban
on smoking in the house.
    "What're you sailing, lad? Not one of those
goddamn steamships, I hope." Captain Meredith couldn't hear himself
any better than he could hear others, so his voice boomed across
the room.
    "No, sir. She's a barkentine, built in Maine,
home port in San Francisco," Jake answered in a voice trained to
carry.
    "You her master? There's a good lad. By God,
I'm glad to have a man to talk to. These women just don't
appreciate an exciting story. I remember when I was about your age,
let's see, I was sailing on the Black Pearl out of
Portsmouth. Or maybe it was the James Wright out of Boston.
Aye, those were the days. We were on the west coast of Africa,
working our way toward Good Hope. No,