Would-Be Mistletoe Wife

Blackthorn capped the brass transfer can he used to transport oil. “What can I do for you, Jesse?” He rose with the exaggerated groans of a timeworn elder. “Bones are getting creaky.”

Jesse hoped that meant Blackthorn was considering retirement. It had surely led to the placement of an assistant, though Blackthorn had refused to relinquish many duties thus far.

Jesse returned his attention to the matter at hand. “I found some women walking on the dune just below the lighthouse.”

“Any pretty ones?”

Jesse felt the heat rise and coughed to hide his discomfort. “They’re young. Students.” And thus far too young for him. Mrs. Smythe, on the other hand, was rather attractive, though he could never condone her disregard for rules.

“Must be the girls from the boarding school.” Blackthorn exited the oil house and pulled the door shut. He then reached above the door, where he kept the key on a hook, and locked the door before putting the key back on its hook.

Jesse had tried to change this procedure, saying it didn’t do much for security to keep the key within reach. By now, the whole town must know it was there. But his pleas had been met with a laugh and an assurance that “we’ve always done it this way.” Blackthorn was too set in his ways. The lighthouse needed fresh eyes willing to see things in safer and more efficient ways.

“Was their teacher with them?” Blackthorn asked.

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Smythe.” Blackthorn shook his head. “Odd sort, that one. She’ll spend hours staring at a clump of dune grass, making notes in some book of hers.”

No doubt that was the journal she’d waved at her students. It looked well-used. Louise Smythe was not the type of woman he’d expected to find in a town like Singapore.

“She has an unusual interest in science.” That had intrigued Jesse.

Blackthorn squinted at him. “You don’t say. The lady hardly says a word.”

“That’s not my experience. She said plenty to me.”

“Maybe she’s getting more like the rest of the women she came here with.”

“The rest? There’s more like her?”

Blackthorn chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. Back, oh, I’d say a year ago, Mrs. Smythe arrived in town with Pearl Lawson, Amanda Porter and Fiona O’Keefe. They were answering an advertisement for a bride.” Again he laughed.

“That’s humorous?”

“It was at the time. Seems they all thought Roland Decker was the prospective groom when in fact it was his brother Garrett. You should’ve seen them running from one man to the other. Fact was, neither brother wanted to get married.”

“Then why place an advertisement?”

“They didn’t.” Blackthorn began walking back to the tower. “Turns out Garrett Decker’s children did. They wanted a new mama. Got one too. And Roland Decker and Sawyer Evans claimed two of the other three. There’s only Mrs. Smythe left. Of course, she’s the oldest. Must be around thirty.”

Then Jesse hadn’t been mistaken about her age. “What else do you know about her?” When Blackthorn gave him a quick look, Jesse regretted his question. “I need to know how to deal with her,” he added, feeling the heat again creep up his neck. “She’s...difficult.”

“Is she? Always seemed quiet as a mouse to me. Would rather poke her nose in a book than speak to anyone. Skips most of the church suppers and the like. Maybe the missus knows more.”

They’d reached the lighthouse. Rather than enter the tower, Blackthorn stuck his head into the door to the keeper’s quarters.

“Jane!”

Jesse waved his hands, trying to get Blackthorn to stop. He did not want Mrs. Blackthorn involved. She would start matching him to every eligible girl in town.

Blackthorn came out of the open doorway. “Go on in, Jane’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Uh, that’s not what I wanted.”

“Ambitious young man like you oughta be lookin’ for a wife.”

Jesse squared his shoulders. “First I need to be able to provide.” Unlike his father and mother, whose impetuous decision cost dearly. “Maybe when I’m head keeper I’ll be able to consider a wife.”

Blackthorn shook his head. “You got a lot ta learn, son. A man’s got a leg up on gettin’ the head job if he’s got a wife and family.”

“He does?” That was news to Jesse, troubling news, for he couldn’t afford a wife.

“Oh, you won’t catch anyone sayin’ it right out, but you just look around, especially at them remote lights, and you’ll see what I mean. One man can’t run this place. Not when the service expects you ta be on duty twenty-four hours a day.”

Now Jesse understood. The man was back to his favorite annoyance—Jesse’s arrival. “That’s why there are assistants.”

“Assistants! Bah!” Blackthorn waved off the idea as he headed for the tower.

Jesse followed, his thoughts drifting back to the earlier conflict on the dune. “What I really need to know is if you approve of Mrs. Smythe trespassing on government property.”

Blackthorn shook his head. “You gotta get your head out of those books of yours and into real life. Those ladies aren’t doing no harm. This here’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. It pays to be on people’s good side.”

“But the property—”

“This isn’t a fort. It’s a lighthouse. People are curious. They stop by all the time. Treat ’em like a neighbor, and they’ll do the same for you.”

Blackthorn then opened the door to the tower. Each day he poured some of the oil into a smaller filling can and then carried it up the circular iron staircase to begin filling the lamps. The process took several trips up and down the tower staircase. According to Article IV of the manual, the filling of the lamps was supposed to be done as soon as the lamps were cleaned except when cold weather would make the oil too thick to flow. That meant late morning, but Blackthorn didn’t keep a regular schedule. Moreover, today’s warm temperatures offered no excuse for tardiness. If Jesse was head keeper, he’d follow the manual’s instructions to the letter. As assistant, he could only stand by.

“Let me help you.” Jesse stooped slightly to get through the door.

“No need.”

Jesse swallowed frustration. The keeper hadn’t let him touch anything in the lantern. If Jesse was ever going to be head keeper, he had to know more than could be gleaned from the manual. He needed experience. Even without that experience, he’d discovered some inefficiencies that could be rectified. “I could show you a faster way to handle the oil.”

Blackthorn practically glared at him. “I’ve been tending lighthouses for more than twenty years. Don’t you think that I know what works best and what doesn’t?”

Jesse choked back the retort that clearly Blackthorn didn’t. If he would carry the large can up the stairs and transfer the oil to the smaller filling can when he reached the top, he wouldn’t have to go up and down the staircase so many times. Since pointing this out had gotten Jesse nowhere, he wouldn’t rankle the keeper again.

So Jesse swallowed his pride. “I suppose you do, sir.”

“That’s right. Jane said she needed something from the store. Find out what it is and go fetch it.” The man finished pouring the first batch of oil into the filling can and began the long climb up the circular staircase, the soles of his boots ringing against the iron steps.

Jesse backed out. Though he’d only been here six days, he was sick of being nothing more than an errand boy. Other than polishing lamps, which the children could do, Blackthorn hadn’t let him near any of the equipment. Jesse closed the tower door against the ever-drifting sand.

“What do you want to know about Louise?” Mrs. Blackthorn’s voice made him jump. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were expecting me.”

“I was?”

“Samuel said it was something about Louise Smythe?”

“Oh. I suppose I did, ma’am.” Jesse couldn’t recall what he’d intended to ask about Louise. Since Blackthorn approved her climbing all over the dunes, Jesse had lost that argument. He searched for something else. “I, uh, understand she’s a teacher.” That sounded pretty feeble.

“Down at the boarding school in the west wing of the hotel.” Mrs. Blackthorn pointed it out, as if he hadn’t noticed the place before.

It hadn’t taken long to ascertain that Singapore was tiny. It boasted few businesses beyond the general store, the boardinghouse and the hotel. There were a few saloons, but Jesse didn’t frequent those, and the church looked like the rest of the bunkhouses used by the lumberjacks and saw operators when they came to town. Boardwalks stretched between businesses so people didn’t have to walk through the sand. The streets served more pedestrians than wheeled transportation. Jesse had yet to see a buggy or horse other than the wagon down at the docks. Then again, the town was only a few blocks long and even fewer deep.

It was a good place to begin remaking his life.

“I hear tell she’s a war widow,” Mrs. Blackthorn said.

The words shot through Jesse like lead. Not the war. He’d done all he could to escape the harrowing memories. A lighthouse offered a chance to get away from the endless war stories and sorrow. He’d hoped to land at a remote island lighthouse but instead was assigned here.

“You all right, Mr. Hammond?”

Jesse managed a smile. “Just lost in thought.”

“Just like her.”

“Like who?”

“Like who?” Mrs. Blackthorn shook her head. “Like Louise. That’s who we’ve been talking about, isn’t it?”

Jesse had to agree that it was, but Mrs. Blackthorn’s description of her didn’t match his experience. “She didn’t seem very quiet to me.”

That made Mrs. Blackthorn smile. “Well now, isn’t that interesting. Might be you managed to catch her eye. She is looking to marry, you know.”

Jesse grimaced. “That’s what your husband said. But I’m not. I need to get established as a keeper first.”

“Isn’t that just like a man.”

Jesse stiffened. “A man needs to be able to provide.”

“Love doesn’t wait for our schedule. Neither does the lighthouse service.”

That was the second Blackthorn who had mentioned marriage in connection with being a keeper. “Why do you say that?”

“Samuel would never have been named keeper if he hadn’t had a wife and family.”

Jesse was still skeptical. The woman could be using it as an excuse to match make. “Are you certain?”

“As certain as day and night. Why, they came right out and asked him if he was married.”

Jesse’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready for marriage. He hadn’t saved nearly enough to support a wife, but if he wanted to get promoted to head keeper, he was going to have to set aside his reservations. This town didn’t look big enough to offer much of a choice, not if men were willing to advertise for a wife.

“Louise would make a fine catch. Did you notice the cut of her clothing?”

Jesse couldn’t say he had.

“Quality,” Mrs. Blackthorn said. “Pure quality. That says something.”

So did the fact that she was a war widow. If he must marry, he would look anywhere else for a wife.

Chapter Two

The remainder of the day, Priscilla had remained smugly silent, her gaze boring into Louise with such intensity that she feared the girl was up to no good. To cut off possible problems, Louise went to the headmistress’s office once classes had ended and the girls were upstairs freshening up before supper.

Fiona Evans sat at the desk perusing what appeared to be a ledger. Her brow was furrowed, and she rubbed her temple while eliciting a sigh.

Dread settled in the pit of Louise’s stomach. She’d heard rumors that Fiona and Sawyer’s hotel was not doing well. Since the school was in the same building, her livelihood could be at risk, especially if Priscilla said anything negative to her parents. Though nothing untoward had happened on the dune, Priscilla could twist the truth into something ugly. The Benningtons could do great damage to the school’s reputation. Their approval of the new school had led to Adeline and Esther’s enrollment. At their word, every paying student could leave. That made this conversation both important and difficult.

Louise rapped on the door frame. “You seem worried.”

Fiona looked up and closed the ledger. “More like perplexed. I don’t have a mind for figures. Please come in.” The beautiful redhead motioned to the chair positioned at the side of her desk. “My apologies for the hot room. I had hoped autumn would bring cooler temperatures. I don’t know when I’ve seen so many hot, dry days this time of year.”

“It is unusual.” Louise’s shoes rapped on the waxed wood floor as she crossed the room.

She then settled on the chair. Though she and Fiona had become friends before the school came into existence, it didn’t make this conversation any easier. She searched for a way to begin.

Fiona gave her the opening she needed. “What’s bothering you? Trouble with one of the students?”

“I hope not, but I’m afraid something happened today that might give them a reason to complain.”

“Oh?” Fiona arched one of her perfect eyebrows.

The former star of the New York stage was the most beautiful woman Louise had ever seen. That she chose to marry a lumber mill sawyer and settle in Singapore was surprising. That she called Louise her friend was just as unlikely, but they’d formed a bond during the hardships of last spring, when a steamship foundered on an offshore sandbar and they joined together to care for the stranded passengers.

Louise began slowly, feeling her way through what had happened. “I brought the girls on the dune to survey a particular plant for our science class, but the assistant lighthouse keeper told us we had to leave the property.”

“The assistant keeper joined your class?”

“Unexpectedly.” And unwelcome, Louise thought as she recalled his inflexibility. “He objected to our presence.”

“Go on.”

“I...saw no reason to interrupt our studies. Mr. Blackthorn never objected to my crossing the property in the past, and I told him that.”

Mirth sparkled in Fiona’s eyes. “I see. Was this man handsome?”

Louise felt her cheeks heat. “That is not the point. I...well, I inadvertently touched the man.”

“Touched?”

“Well, more like grabbed onto him. He was going to pull out the plant, and I had to stop him. He was going to kill it.”

“Kill it.” Fiona’s lips twitched. Was she going to laugh?

Louise explained, “I couldn’t let him needlessly destroy a living thing, so I stopped him.”

“He must have been surprised.”

That was not the half of it. “I believe some of the girls found my reaction a bit too forward and not becoming a teacher.”

“It was innocent.”

“Exactly.” Louise was relieved that Fiona saw it that way. “However, I wanted to let you know what happened in case anyone complained.”

“I see.” Fiona rose. “Is that all?”

It wasn’t. “There might be another complaint. From the man.”

“Oh?”

Louise could see a spark of excitement light up Fiona’s eyes. Now that Fiona and the rest of the women who’d come to Singapore were married, they’d taken it upon themselves to match Louise with every eligible bachelor. Though she had no idea if Mr. Hammond was married or not, he could never be her match.

“He’s more than a little rude. He threatened to remove my students and me from the dune.”

Fiona’s lips twitched. She was going to laugh!

“And then there was the fire.”

That sobered Fiona. “The fire?”

“Dinah’s magnifying glass accidentally caught a leaf on fire, but I stomped it out at once.”

“I’m sure that impressed him. What did you say his name was again?”

“Mr. Hammond. Mr. Jesse Hammond.”

“Oh! Mr. Hammond.” Fiona beamed. “I met him this afternoon at the store. He arrived less than a week ago and is unmarried.”

Naturally Fiona would ask about that. Louise pretended indifference. “So are most of the sawyers and lumberjacks.”

Fiona laughed. “True, but Mr. Hammond seems unusually intellectual. He talked at great length about the weather.”

“The weather.”

“Yes. He explained in great detail why it’s been so hot and dry this year. I found it fascinating and believe our students will also, so I asked him to give a lecture.”

“Here?” The word barely squeaked through Louise’s constricted throat.

“Of course it would be here.” Fiona peered at her. “Is that a problem?”

Louise couldn’t begin to articulate all the reasons why this was a bad idea, starting with the fact that the girls wouldn’t hear one word he said. Oh, they’d be quiet as mice. They’d be busy daydreaming over the handsome lighthouse assistant. But that was a petty objection. Young ladies would always sigh over a man before listening to him.

Louise had a more personal reason. “I too know a great deal about the weather, thanks to Captain Elder’s instruction. I can prepare the lecture.”

“Splendid! Since it’s also an interest of yours, I suggest you collaborate with Mr. Hammond.”

The room grew intolerably hot. Louise couldn’t draw a breath, could barely think. All that came to mind was the impossibility of Fiona’s plan. Jesse Hammond was large and demanding. He would not listen to a word she had to say. He would counter and crush her every suggestion.

“Collaborate?” she managed to gasp.

“It’s the perfect solution. He plans to stop by the school tomorrow morning, but I’ll be leading music instruction at that time. Since you’ll be free, you can discuss the lecture with him.”

Louise struggled to draw in a breath. The idea was entirely intolerable. She and Jesse Hammond? Working together to present a lecture? “He agreed to work with me?”

“Don’t underestimate your abilities. You have much to offer, and he will be grateful for your guidance.”

“What guidance?”

“For one, you can ensure he doesn’t speak over the ladies’ heads. Help him steer his knowledge into something that will engage the students.”

After the way Jesse Hammond treated her earlier today, Louise would have enjoyed seeing him fail in front of her students. Her conscience pricked. That wasn’t very kind.

“You will do it?” Fiona prodded.

Louise didn’t want to, but this school had given her strength and purpose. Rather than relying on marriage to a man she did not know, she could support herself through teaching. She owed Fiona a great deal.

She nodded her assent. A few minutes with Jesse Hammond couldn’t be that terrible. She would use the time to persuade the man not to give that lecture.

* * *

How had Jesse let himself get talked into lecturing in front of a bunch of girls? Mrs. Evans hadn’t accepted his polite refusal, and then the woman manning the store counter had chimed in with how much a guest lecturer would enrich the ladies’ education. They’d shamed him into it.

Worst of all, he saw no way to avoid Louise Smythe, since she worked at the school. Not that the widow wasn’t pretty, but she was a widow—a childless widow. And both Mrs. Evans and the store clerk had been far too eager to corral him into the lecture for him to believe their motives were strictly educational.

Jesse picked at his food, which drew the notice of Mrs. Blackthorn, yet another matchmaker.

“You feeling all right, Mr. Hammond? You’ve hardly touched a thing on your plate.”

“I’m fine.” To demonstrate, he shoved a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“Good trout,” Mr. Blackthorn mumbled between heaping bites of the fried fish and mashed potatoes.

The boys, both adolescents, were too preoccupied with eating as much as possible to pay any attention to the conversation.

Jesse swallowed the potatoes. “Yes, ma’am. It’s very good.”

Mrs. Blackthorn beamed while her daughter sighed and gave him that dreamy look the girls from the boarding school had given him. Over the years he’d grown accustomed to that reaction. Maybe that was why Louise stuck in his mind. She hadn’t fawned and sighed over him. Quite the reverse. Although refreshing, it puzzled him. How does a man respond to a woman who doesn’t show the slightest interest in him? It was easy enough to dismiss the hopeful, but the disinterested presented a new challenge.

“You do seem a little out of sorts, Mr. Hammond,” Mrs. Blackthorn said as she slathered butter on a dinner roll. “You’ve hardly said a word.”

Jesse didn’t usually speak during meals, but there was no use pointing that out. “I’m fine.”

Mr. Blackthorn peered at him. “Did you go and get someone else irritated at you?”

“No, sir.” He still wasn’t accustomed to eating with the family, but board was part of his compensation.

“Good.” Blackthorn pointed a fork at him. “It pays to stay on everyone’s good side.”

Mrs. Blackthorn nodded. “Did you happen to see Louise Smythe when you were at the store?”

“No, ma’am.” Jesse clenched his jaw. He’d have to ask Blackthorn for an hour off tomorrow morning. Now was as good a time as any. “I did meet Mrs. Evans, though. She asked me to give a short lecture on weather to the students.”

Blackthorn peered at him. “You don’t say. Never asked me to do that.”

Jesse wasn’t about to mention his suspicion that Mrs. Evans, like Mrs. Blackthorn, was trying to match him with Louise Smythe. “It just came up in conversation. If you object, I’ll tell her I can’t do it.” He tried not to sound as hopeful as he felt.

“No, no.” Blackthorn waved off the suggestion. “How long can it take? An hour? As long as we don’t have a storm brewing, it’s fine with me.”

Jesse tried not to show his disappointment. “Thank you, sir.”

“It’ll spread a little goodwill.” Blackthorn cocked his head. “Maybe you can have the girls polish some of the brass pitchers.”

“Samuel! The girls are supposed to learn, not do your work for you,” his wife scolded. She then turned a smile in Jesse’s direction. “That means you’ll have a chance to see Louise.”

Jesse was not about to reveal that he wanted as little contact as possible with Mrs. Smythe.

“You should pay her a call,” Mrs. Blackthorn continued, oblivious to his discomfort, “one evening or this weekend.”

“I’m not planning to call on any woman just yet.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Blackthorn looked to her husband.

“I thought you aimed to be head keeper.” Blackthorn’s fork jabbed his way again. “You’ll need someone to watch the light when you’re sleeping, like during a storm.”

“And help with all the cleaning,” Mrs. Blackthorn added.

“Like I told ya, the service looks kindly on those that’re married,” Blackthorn added.

Jesse tried his best not to let on that he knew they were conspiring to get him married. “There’s still plenty of time.”

After all, it had taken over a year for Jesse to wind his way through the political connections needed to get a nomination from the customs collector and then to secure approval from the lighthouse board.

“You’re thirty-one,” Mrs. Blackthorn stated. “Louise’s age. A woman like her won’t wait forever.”

It took herculean effort not to plead an end to this matchmaking. Instead, he focused on fact. “I only have a small room. That’s no place to bring a wife.”

“We began that way,” Mrs. Blackthorn pointed out.

Clearly Jesse was going to lose the argument unless he could come up with a solid excuse. “It would cost the service more in provisions.”

“Not as much as bringing in an assistant,” Blackthorn said. “Take my word. If you want to be appointed head keeper somewhere, get married and have children.”

Jesse had long dreamed of having a large family with children running everywhere, but he’d first postponed it due to the war and then in favor of getting into the lighthouse service. It’d been years since he’d courted anyone.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he murmured.

“Start with Louise Smythe.” Mrs. Blackthorn returned to her favorite topic. “She’s looking to marry. You’re the same age. Perfect match.”

Except she was a war widow. The nightmares already plagued him. Widows often asked how men died in the war. Even the question brought back painful memories.