There's Always Tomorrow
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Darlene Mindrup
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Chapter 1
Cape St. George Island, Gulf of Mexico, 1868
The skiff’s bow lifted high on the crest of the whitecapped waves of the Gulf of Mexico before plunging down to the trough below. The fine, misting spray settled lightly against Adrella Murphy’s face. Smiling, she threw her head back to allow her long red curls to blow freely in the warm late-October breeze.
Her father glanced at the darkening horizon worriedly. “I should’na ha’ allowed you to come with me on this trip, lass,” he told her. “There’s more than a mere storm a brewin’.”
Adrella smiled at him, her voice soothing. “Oh, Da, you worry too much! We’ve handled some pretty rough weather in our time.”
Snorting, her father tightened his hold on the tiller. Peering out at her from underneath the brim of his battered cap, he told her regretfully, “Aye, and your mother, God rest her soul, would have me hide if she knew the way I was a raisin’ ya. ’Tis no life for a lady.”
Adrella reached across and squeezed her father’s hand reassuringly. They had been through this argument numerous times already. There was nowhere on earth she would rather be than right by her father’s side. He had been mother and father to her for the past fifteen years. She could barely remember her mother, having been only five when she died.
A school of dolphins crested near their boat, their lively chatter bringing a smile to Adrella’s face. She watched as they quickly dove and disappeared from sight.
“They sense the approaching storm,” her father told her, his anxious gaze once again studying the far horizon.
She studied her father’s weathered face and could visualize what she would look like in another twenty years. The ruggedness etched with time on his features did nothing toward diminishing Mangus Murphy’s good looks. His fiery red hair was salted with grey, but his green eyes still glowed with healthy vitality. But whereas her father was a handsome man, his strong features passed on to his female offspring were less than flattering.
Adrella wrinkled her freckled nose at the idea. Her own green eyes flashed at the thought of the insult she had just received that morning. Jasper Howard had offered his hand in marriage, not because he loved her, but because he wanted someone to help raise his children.
“After all,” he had stated rather categorically, “it’s not like you’re likely to receive any other offers.”
Her Irish temper had surfaced quicker than a breaching whale. When Mr. Howard had left her presence, his ears had been red from the lambasting he had received. Still, her own tears hadn’t been far from the surface. Didn’t she already know that she was a plain woman? She had heard it often enough in her time. Yet her father adamantly claimed that God would send her the man He had destined for her, and she would know what true love could be. Just like Da and Mama.
Her lips curled up at the thought, her eyes gentling. Oh, to be loved like that! Even after all these years Da’s green eyes still glowed when he talked about his Mary. Adrella could barely remember how her mother looked, the memories growing dim after all this time, but she still remembered the shared laughter. The love.
She turned her smile on her father. “You know I have to learn to fend for myself. If something happens to you, who’s going to take care of me?”
Instead of the snappy response she had expected, her father’s frown deepened. “I’ve been thinkin’ about that.”
Surprised, Adrella could only stare. What was her father thinking? And why should he be concerned about her now? Thoughts racing through her head for some explanation, her mind focused on the fact that Da had been to see Dr. Taylor only two days ago.
Her face paled considerably leaving her whiter than the sand on the beach, her freckles even more pronounced. “What are you saying? Did Dr. Taylor say something about your health?”
Something serious flashed through his eyes momentarily, but then he gave her one of his heartiest laughs. “Now, Adrella, me darlin’. Don’t go giving me to the Great Banshee just yet!”
Frowning, Adrella was unconvinced. She knew her father almost as well as she knew herself, and he was hiding something. That hearty laugh had held just the merest hint of panic in it. As often happened in times of stress, her Irish brogue came out thicker than usual. “Faith, and ’tis not something to joke about!”
Her father’s face grew serious. “No, Adrella. ’Tis not.” Reaching across the space between them, he cupped her chin in his calloused palm, stroking her trembling bottom lip with his thumb. “But when the time comes, love, I want to know you’ll be taken care of. I know the good Lord is lookin’ out for you as well as your old da can, but it would sure set me mind at rest if I knew you had someplace to go.”
She curled her fingers around his wrist and, turning her lips to his palm, she placed a kiss there. When she returned her gaze to his face, her eyes twinkled mischievously. “You heard Jasper Howard’s proposal, didn’t you?”
Face coloring hotly, Mangus pulled his hand away and pretended to be adjusting the rudder. “Faith, and it woulda been hard not to.” He grinned at her twitching lips. “Could ya not have left the man with some measure of pride?”
Affronted, Adrella rounded on her father. “Pride? Pride? And what about me own pride? If you heard the whole conversation, why didn’t you march in and knock the man down?”
“Now, Drell,” he teased. “Would that have been the Christian thing to do? Besides, you didn’t give me time. I thought you handled the matter rather well yourself without me interfering.”
Adrella struggled with her growing irascibility. It rather hurt her that her father hadn’t done something, anything, to Mr. Howard for his supercilious proposal. But he was right. She should have responded in a more Christian way. Paul the Apostle had spoken of a thorn in his side. Well, her Irish temper was hers, and one of these days it was going to land her in a whole peck of trouble.
Her father glanced over her shoulder, and smiled. “There’s Dathan.”
Adrella turned on her seat and saw Dathan Adams on the parapet surrounding the light at the top of the lighthouse. He was watching their progress as they crossed the water toward the bay side of the island of Cape St. George, his sandy-brown hair blowing about his head in the growing winds. When he judged them close enough, he disappeared from their view and Adrella knew that he was descending the interior of the tall structure. It would take some time for him to cross the mile distance to reach the pier.
She had taken special care with her appearance today knowing that she was making the trip with her father to deliver Dathan’s supplies. Although she knew she would never be considered lovely, she rather felt that the emerald green of her princess-style dress brought out the color in her eyes. Not that she thought she had a hope of attracting a man like Dathan. Not that she even wanted to for that matter. Why should she try to impress a man who barely acknowledged her existence? Why, indeed, she asked herself in irritation.
When she had met her father at the pier in Apalachicola that morning, his lifted eyebrow had caused the color to rush to her face. He said nothing, though, and she was thankful for his silence, although his slight smirk spoke more loudly than any words he could have uttered.
What was there about Dathan that made her normally level head seem more like a seesaw? At times she disliked him intensely, at others, well... He was handsome enough, that was for sure, but it wasn’t just his good looks. There was something decidedly mysterious about Dathan Adams. Something that intrigued her.
He and her father had struck up a friendship two years before when Dathan had first come to their store to purchase supplies. Although he was always courteous, he usually had very little to say to her. Still, whenever she was in close proximity to him, she felt like a clumsy schoolgirl instead of a levelheaded twenty-year-old. It was rather disconcerting.
Swallowing hard, Adrella kept watching until Dathan’s broad-shouldered form appeared above the towering sand dunes. Every time she saw Dathan, her heart did funny little flip-flops. She wasn’t certain if it was because of his cool gray eyes, or because he was usually so unfriendly toward her. She refused to recognize that it could be anything else.
He reached the pier at the same time their skiff pulled up to it. Mangus threw him the mooring line, and with one swift flip of his wrist, Dathan had it secured.
Dathan’s eyes rested momentarily on Adrella before he smiled at her father. “Mangus. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
That was one of the things that had always impressed Adrella. Dathan’s voice was as smooth as butter. Deep and throaty. It never failed to send little skitters along her nerve endings.
Mangus returned his smile. “’Tis my regular day, Dathan.”
Glancing about at the incoming cirrus clouds, Dathan nodded. “Aye, but there’s a squall brewing. I thought you might wait it out.”
Mangus’s face grew serious as he joined with Dathan studying the sky. “I’m afraid it’s more than just a squall, Dathan. It looks more like a full-fledged hurricane a brewin’. There’s a feel to the gulf today that I’ve felt only a few times before.”
Adrella felt her heart plunge to her stomach. Her father could read the weather better than any man she knew. A hurricane? Why hadn’t her father said something earlier? Now she, too, noticed the strange mood of the gulf, the normally blue-green water turning gray and angry.
“I’ll help you get the supplies up to the house, but then I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave. There won’t be any visitin’ today.”
Dathan nodded, reaching for Adrella’s hand to help her from the skiff. “I understand. If you would rather, just pile the things here and I’ll get them up to the house.”
Mangus was already shaking his head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, the rain looks like it’s still a few hours away yet. It’ll take no time at all to help you with the supplies.”
“As you wish.” Dathan turned his attention to Adrella. “Adrella, you know where everything’s kept. Could you make us a fresh pot of coffee?”
Unable to keep from flushing under his regard, Adrella nodded and hastily moved toward the keeper’s cottage. If he noticed her changed attire, he showed no sign of it. Feeling slightly disappointed, Adrella sighed.
“Aye. I’ll go ahead and get it started.”
As she crossed the beach, Adrella wondered for the hundredth time how a man like Dathan happened to become keeper of the light here at Cape St. George lighthouse. He looked more like someone who would grace a fancy drawing room in England. Although her father had been delivering supplies to him for some time, Adrella still knew very little about Dathan. Every time the past was mentioned, he shied away from discussing it like a frightened colt.
When she reached the small cottage the keepers used, she took the time to look around her at the awe-inspiring view. Miles of ocean met her gaze, the shimmering water rippling from the intensifying wind. Gulls screeched overhead as they searched for food among the tumbling waves. Before long they would disappear to some perch, safe from the fast—approaching storm.
The palm trees and live oaks that surrounded the area were already swaying a rhythm to the gusting wind. The usually raucous sounds of the many birds that wintered here were eerily absent. They had obviously sought shelter on the mainland eight miles away instead of hunkering down here, a sure indication that the weather was going to be rough.
The cirrus clouds of the hurricane’s rain bands were drawing closer, their feathery fingers deceptively peaceful against the cobalt-blue sky. Only the wind and waves gave any indication of the gathering storm.
Adrella went in through the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her to allow in the cooling breeze.
She stood staring around at the immaculate room. That was another thing that always surprised her about Dathan. He kept his house as clean and neat as he kept himself. He was a well-organized man, as well. She couldn’t remember a time when he had ever been caught unaware. He always had his list ready for her father, and he never seemed to run out of supplies like many of the other keepers.
Normally the keepers came to the mainland for their own supplies, choosing to be able to spend some time with other people. Dathan was different, and her father was always glad to render him service. The two had developed a friendship between them that surprised many. They were so completely opposite. Whereas her father was friendly and open with everyone he met, Dathan was reserved and quiet. He reminded her of the approaching storm, calm and peaceful on the outside but full of fury on the inside. She could see the banked fires in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.
She had been to this house so many times with supplies, she knew where every item in the kitchen was stored. The blue tin coffeepot was already on the stove keeping warm, but Adrella found a pot holder and lifted it to carry outside and dump out the back door in the small garden that Dathan kept close to the house. Rinsing out the pot, she added fresh grounds from the canister and set the pot back on the stove to percolate.
Almost an hour later her father and Dathan arrived with the first load of supplies. Since they usually unloaded the skiff of all supplies before moving up the beach to the cottage, Adrella knew their time would be short. Mangus rubbed his hands together, grinning at his daughter.
“I’m ready for some of that coffee now, Drella me darlin’.”
Dathan said nothing, his dark gaze fastening on Adrella hovering over the stove. She poured a cup for her father, then handed one to him, her hands shaking slightly. Irritated with herself, she hid the telltale sign of her nervousness by shoving her hands into the pockets on her apron.
“I think Da’s right,” she told Dathan. “It looks like a hurricane moving in.”
Dathan nodded, sipping his steaming coffee. “I know. It’s odd to have one this late in the season, but not unheard of. You two better go ahead and get going before the water gets any rougher. I can bring up the rest of the supplies.”
Mangus looked skeptical. “Are you sure, lad? I’ll be happy to help.”
“I’m sure. Thanks for helping me unload them to the dock.”
Shrugging, Mangus finished his coffee and set the cup on the table. “Then we’d best be on our way.”
Adrella was conscious of Dathan moving close behind her as they made the mile-long trek back through the path in the woods that separated the light tower from the dock. His presence left her, as always, feeling uncomfortable. The hair prickled on the back of her neck and she reached up to gently rub the spot. Every time she was around Dathan, her nerves seemed to tingle with a life of their own.
The surrounding forest seemed to offer little respite from the fast-approaching gale. Except for the wind, an uncanny stillness settled around them causing them to hurry onward.
When they reached the pier her father helped her into the skiff and turned to shake hands with Dathan. “I’ll see you on my next trip out. You have a new list?”
Dathan reached into his pocket, grinning. “Right here.”
Mangus took the slip of paper from him, glancing at it briefly. Pocketing it, he nodded his head and then climbed aboard the skiff. “Well, that’s it then. God be with you, Dathan.”
“And you,” Dathan returned softly before untying the mooring line.
* * *
The skiff bobbed ever faster as it moved away from the dock. Dathan lifted a keg of flour onto his shoulder and turned to watch their progress. When he was sure they were well away from the surrounding rocks and sandbars, he made his way back to his cottage.
Adding the keg to the pantry in the kitchen, he strolled back to the dock to watch the little skiff move across the water. The wind blew his hair into a riot of confusion, but he didn’t object. He lifted his face to the sky, closing his eyes and relishing the power of the zephyr.
When he opened them again, he noticed the skiff floundering amidst the increasing winds. He could make out only one figure on the boat waving frantically in his direction.
Feeling a sudden chill pass over him, Dathan ran back to the house and grabbed his binoculars from a peg on the wall. Hurrying back, he focused them on the boat.
Adrella materialized as he focused the lens. Her terrified face appeared for a moment and then disappeared when she bent to the deck. Heart pounding in alarm, Dathan began running toward his small boat tied to the edge of the dock.
Unmooring it, he pushed out into the turbulent water. His muscles strained against the oars as he rowed closer to the skiff. It seemed for every move he made forward, the waves pushed him two in retreat. In the two years he had lived here he had never seen the gulf in such a temper.
Gritting his teeth with determination, he finally managed to get close enough to throw Adrella a line. She used the rope to pull him closer, tears raining down her cheeks.
When he was close enough, Dathan jumped aboard. “What’s happened?” he yelled above the rising wind.
“Da!”
She pointed to where her father lay clutching his chest, sprawled on the floor of the skiff. Moving quickly to his side, Dathan knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. It moved weakly against his fingers. Lifting the lid of one eye, he took note of the lack of response to the light. Dathan swallowed hard, his heart lodging somewhere close to his throat. The cold clammy skin and blue-veined hands were not reassuring.
He looked up at Adrella, his gray eyes dark with worry. “We have to get you back to the house.”
“But Da needs the doctor! We can’t go back!”
Looking around at the swelling waves, Dathan shook his head. “We’re not close enough to the mainland and the wind and waves are too fierce. We’ll never make it eight miles in this wind. The house is the best bet.”
Adrella bit her lip in indecision. Not waiting for an answer, Dathan moved to the oars and began to turn the skiff back toward the island.
* * *
Dropping to her knees, Adrella began to talk to her father. “Hang on, Da. Hang on!” she told him, pushing the soggy hair from his eyes. Her voice became desperate “Don’t you dare die on me!”
Terror clutching at her heart, Adrella began to petition the Lord on her father’s behalf. She pled fervently for his life, while with fierce concentration Dathan struggled against the turbulent waves.
“If you’ve a mind, you can grab that extra set of oars and give a hand,” he yelled.
Adrella knew from the tone of his voice that Dathan was not making a suggestion. Reluctant to leave her father’s side, but knowing the feasibility of making it to shore more swiftly with two rowers, Adrella grabbed the other set of oars and added her own power to that of the man fighting against the ferocity of the increasing wind.
It seemed to take forever for them to reach the shore. Dathan quickly jumped from the boat, tying it to the small dock with the mooring line.
Setting Adrella to the side, he gently lifted Mangus into his arms. Even at such a time as this, Adrella couldn’t help but be impressed with the power of the man. His muscles bulged against the older man’s weight, yet he lifted him with ease.
Dathan didn’t wait to see if Adrella followed. Piqued, she lifted her skirts and hurried after him.
