Read The Lightkeeper's Bride Online

Authors: Colleen Coble

The Lightkeeper's Bride

P
RAISE FOR
C
OLLEEN
C
OBLE


The Lightkeeper’s Bride
is a wonderful story filled with mystery, intrigue, and romance. I loved every minute of it.”

— Cindy Woodsmall,
New York Times
best-selling author of
The Hope of
Refuge

“Colleen Coble has long been a favorite storyteller of mine. I love the way she weaves intrigue and God’s love into a story chock-f of carefully crafted characters. If you’re looking for an awesome writer—I highly recommend her!”

— Tracie Peterson, best-selling author of
Dawn’s Prelude
, Song of Alaska series

“Colleen delivers a heart-warming romance—and plot twists that will keep you guessing until the final pages! Perhaps best of all, her novels call us to a deeper, richer faith.”

— Tamera Alexander, best-selling author of
The Inheritance
, regarding
The
Lightkeeper’s Daughter


The Lightkeeper’s Daughter
is a maze of twists and turns with an opening that grabs the reader instantly. With so many red herrings, the villain caught me by surprise.”

— Lauraine Snelling, best-selling author of
A Measure of Mercy

“A high stakes, fast-paced romance. I loved it!”

— Mary Connealy, best-selling author of
Montana Rose
, regarding
Lonestar
Homecoming

T
HE
L
IGHTKEEPER

S
B
RIDE

O
THER
N
OVELS BY
C
OLLEEN
C
OBLE
I
NCLUDE

The Rock Harbor series

Without a Trace

Beyond a Doubt

Into the Deep

Cry in the Night

The Aloha Reef series

Distant Echoes

Black Sands

Dangerous Depths

Alaska Twilight

Fire Dancer

Midnight Sea

Abomination

Anathema

The Lonestar Novels

Lonestar Sanctuary

Lonestar Secrets

Lonestar Homecoming

The Mercy Falls series

The Lightkeeper’s Daughter

T
HE
L
IGHTKEEPER

S
B
RIDE

A Mercy Falls Novel

Colleen Coble

© 2010 by Colleen Coble

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Thomas Nelson, Inc., titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected]

Publisher’s note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

KING JAMES VERSION is in the public domain and does not require permission.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Coble, Colleen.

   The lightkeeper’s bride : a Mercy Falls novel / Colleen Coble.

       p. cm.

   ISBN 978-1-59554-266-3 (pbk.)

   1. Brides—Fiction. 2. California—History—1850–1950—Fiction.

 3. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

PS3553.O2285L523 2010

813'.54—dc22

2010025951

Printed in the United States of America

10 11 12 13 14 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Jen
I treasure your friendship and constant support. Love you!

J
EHOVAH
-S
HALOM

THE
L
ORD OUR
P
EACE

C
ONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

O
NE

T
HE LAPEL WATCH
on her blouse read half past nine when Katie Russell removed the skates from her boots and dropped them inside the door of the Mercy Falls Telephone Company. She pulled the pins from her Merry Widow hat, then hung it on a rack. Smoothing the sides of her pompadour, she approached the switchboard in the room down the hall. “Has it been busy?” she asked the woman in front of the dangling cords.

Nell Bartlett sat with her stocking feet propped on the railing of the table that supported the switchboard. Her color was high and her voice clear and energetic as she answered a question then disconnected the line. A faint line of discontent lingered between her brows as she eyed Katie. “It’s your shift already?”

Nell was unmarried and still lived with her ailing mother, though she was thirty-five. On the street she dropped her gaze and barely whispered a hello, but in front of the switchboard she came alive. Whenever she entered the office, she removed her hat, let down her hair, and took off her shoes.

“It is indeed,” Katie said, approaching the switchboard. “Has it been busy?”

“Not too bad. I only received three calls last night.” Nell’s tone indicated her displeasure. “But the rings have increased quite nicely this morning.” She rose and stepped away from the seat in front of the switchboard but kept one hand on the top with a proprietary air.

Katie settled herself in the chair and donned the headset. Nell slipped her shoes back on, wound her hair into a bun, then put on her hat. Out of the corner of her eye, Katie watched her scurry from the room, her mousy identity back in place.

Katie peered at the switchboard then forced herself to put on her hated glasses. She nearly groaned when the light came on at her own residence. She plugged in the cord and toggled the switch. “Good morning, Mama.”

Her mother’s voice was full of reproach. “Katie, you left before I could tell you that Mr. Foster called last night while you were out gallivanting at the skating rink.”

Katie bit back the defense that sprang to her lips and kept the excitement from her voice. “What did he say?”

“He asked to speak with your father and they went to the library.”

Such behavior could only mean one thing. Heat flooded Katie’s face. “He asked Papa if he could court me?”

“He did indeed! Now you mind my words, Katie. You could not make a better match than this. You need to quit that ridiculous job and focus on building your social ties.”

Katie opened her mouth then shut it again. Another light flashed on her switchboard. “I must go, Mama. I have another call.” She unplugged the cord over her mother’s objection. Her parents didn’t understand how important this job was to her. She thrust the cord into the receptor. “Operator,” she said.

“Fire! There’s a fire,” the man on the other end gasped.

Katie glanced more closely at the board, and her muscles clenched.

The orphanage. “I’ll call the fire department, Mr. Gleason. Get the children out!” She unplugged and rang the fire station with trembling hands. “Fire at the orphanage, hurry!” She rushed to the window and looked out to see smoke billowing from the three-story brick building down the street. People were running toward the conflagration. She wished she could help, too, but she turned back to the switchboard as it lit up with several lights. Moments later she heard the shriek of the fire truck as it careened past.

She answered the calls one by one, but most were people checking to make sure she knew about the fire. The morning sped by. She relayed a message out to the North house and managed to chat a few moments with her best friend, Addie North. One call was Mrs. Winston asking the time, and Katie realized it was after one o’clock. At the next lull, she removed her sandwich from the waxed paper and munched it while she watched the board.

The light for Foster’s Sawmill came on. She plugged in. “Operator.”

Bart Foster’s deep voice filled her ears. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”

Katie pressed the palm of her hand to her chest where her heart galloped. “Mr. Foster, I’m sorry I missed your call last night.”

“I had a most rewarding chat with your father,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Did he tell you?”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. “He did not.”

“Excellent. I wish to tell you of our conversation myself. Might I call tonight?”

“Of course.” She wasn’t often so tongue-tied. All her dreams of respectability lay within her grasp. From the corner of her eye, she saw her boss step into the small room. “I won’t be home until after seven. Will that be too late?”

“Of course not. I shall call at seven thirty.”

“I look forward to it. Did you wish to place a call?”

“Someone must be there since you are not quite yourself.” The amusement in his voice deepened. “Connect me with your father’s haberdashery, please. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Of course.” She connected the cord to the shop then turned to face Mr. Daniels.

“I just stopped by to commend you on the way you handled the fire call, Miss Russell. You kept your head about you in a most admirable fashion.”

She stood to face him. “The children? Are they all out safely?”

He nodded. “I just came from the site. The building is a total loss, but everyone is safe, thanks to your quick call to the fire department that I was told about. Well done. I’d like you to consider more hours.

You’re the best operator I have. People like you, and you’re most efficient.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that sprang to her lips. “Thank you, sir.

I’m honored. I love my job.”

“Then you’ll increase your hours? I’d like you to work six days a week.”

She realized the plum that had been thrown into her lap. These were tough times, and jobs for women were scarce. But her parents— especially in light of Bart’s courting—would be less than pleased.

“Katie?”

“I would like nothing better, Mr. Daniels, but I fear I’m going to have to cut my hours instead. Nell will be delighted with the extra work.”

Will Jesperson brushed off his hands and surveyed the gleaming glass on the Fresnel lens in the light tower. Whether he’d done it properly was up for debate, but he liked the way the sun glinted through the lens and lit the floor of the tower. He glanced outside again. He’d found it hard to keep working when he would rather study the clouds and the waves from this vantage point.

Beautiful place, this rocky northern California shoreline. He still couldn’t believe he had landed such a perfect job. Instead of pursuing his hobby once a week, he could do it every day. There were weather balloons in the shed just waiting to be used. He eyed the rolling clouds overhead and held up a finger. The wind was coming from the north. Was that common here? He’d have the time and equipment to find out.

He stepped outside and leaned against the railing. The beauty of the rolling sea transfixed him. Whitecaps boiled on the rocks poking up from the water at the mouth of the bay. Seeing them reminded him of his grave duties here: to save lives and warn ships of the dangers lurking just below the surface of the sea. Squaring his shoulders, he told himself he would keep the light shining bright—both here at the lighthouse and in his personal life. God had blessed him with this position, and he would do his best to honor him with his work.

He removed his pocket watch, glanced at the time, and then stared back out to sea when he heard a man yell. Were those shouts of alarm? Through the binoculars he saw a ship moving past the bay’s opening. A puff of smoke came from a smaller boat trailing it—
gunfire
? The small craft caught up to the ship, and several men clambered up the mast.

Pirates
. Will pressed against the railing and strained to see when he heard more shots across the water. Additional men poured onto the ship and were already turning it back toward the open ocean. He had to do something. Turning on his heel, he rushed toward the spiral staircase. The metal shook and clanged under his feet as he raced down the steps. He leaped out the door and ran down the hillside to the dinghy beached on the sand.

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