Rose visibly shrank in front of him. “No. I’ve not forgotten. But Linnea ran to Matthew. And he took her in. He loved her—as a brother would and…and possibly more.”
“Confound it!” He beat his fist on the arm of the couch. “The girl belongs with us. He isn’t her father.” The hate boiled up inside, choking him.
“But the things you said—”
“He as good as killed Linnea. Matthew murdered our daughter.”
Rose shrank away from him and lay back against her cushions. “Oh, Dory. Do what you must. I want nothing more than to find Hannah. She belongs here. This is her birthright. Bring her home any way you can.”
Dorian took her hands in his. “If there is a way on earth to find her, I will. And when I do, Matthew will have no choice but to hand her over to me.” The vengeance in his voice surprised even him. Slowly he loosened his grip. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Chapter Six
The strong September sun had finally burned away the fog that hovered each morning over the peninsula. Rachel lifted her face to its warmth for a moment and then glanced behind her. Two wagons and five carriages loaded with churchgoers and food snaked their way to the point like an army of determined ants.
She sat in the bed of the wagon, one arm resting on a picnic hamper, the other holding tight to the wooden side. She had spent all of yesterday baking. Her mouth watered at the thought of the pies nestled between the slow-baked beans and cold chicken.
“So, how much longer do I have to put up with this prison sentence?” Caleb asked from his sprawled position beside her. “Haven’t I been okay for the past couple weeks?”
“The sheriff said at least two months,” Rachel answered. “You’re lucky he didn’t put you in jail for starting that fire.”
Caleb scowled. “No one cares about those hide houses anyway. One less wouldn’t hurt anything.”
“But they aren’t your property!” she said, exasperated with his attitude. “Besides, you could have torched the entire town. It was irresponsible.”
He clamped his hands over his ears to shut out her voice and glared at her. After a few minutes he looked up at Reverend Crouse. “Is the light keeper coming to our picnic, Reverend?”
Rachel tensed. It had been three weeks since her visit with Mr. Taylor and three weeks spent pondering the man. Impulsively, she’d even ordered a book on sign language from back east, just in case it could help the young girl.
“He’s welcome, as is anyone,” Reverend Crouse answered her brother. “After all, this is a community picnic.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Caleb said.
Reverend Crouse glanced over his shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
“’Cause he shot at those fisherman a while back. He’s not right in the head. Living out here has made him crazy. Enrique said—” Caleb stopped at the amused look in Reverend Crouse’s eyes.
“Don’t believe everything you hear. Rumors have a way of growing and changing over time.”
“I still say you shoulda had the picnic somewhere else.”
They crested the last brush-covered rise and saw the lighthouse. When they neared, Mr. Taylor stepped through the open front door, his jaw set tight. Resentment radiated from him, thick and strong.
“Look at him.” Heaviness lodged in the pit of Rachel’s stomach. “He doesn’t want us here.”
“Whether he does or not is of no concern. This is government property. The town has had a picnic here for the past seven years.” He stopped Jericho at the gate. “In any case, I’ll ask if he and his daughter would like to join us.”
Rachel couldn’t hear what was said between Reverend Crouse and Mr. Taylor but watched while Hannah inched up to her father and tucked her hand in his. She looked once in Rachel’s direction. A moment later she slipped back into the darkness of the house. Mr. Taylor soon followed his daughter and firmly shut the door.
The reverend climbed back into the wagon. “We’re welcome to enjoy the view but he prefers not to join us.” He clucked at Jericho, urging the horse on, and then waved at the others to follow.
“What of Hannah? She might like the games later,” Rachel asked.
“He’ll keep the girl with him.”
Rachel didn’t understand the ambivalence she felt. She’d worn her favorite navy-blue skirt and white blouse, trying to appear tailored like the perfect teacher in order to impress them. And she’d packed enough food in the hope that Hannah and even Mr. Taylor would join them. But now, learning they wouldn’t, a wave of relief washed over her. Perhaps she could relax now and simply enjoy the day.
A hundred feet farther, Reverend Crouse pulled the wagon to a stop on a stretch of level ground. Rachel spread out their large quilt with the faded star design between two small sagebrushes. The wind swirled and caught the edges of the makeshift tablecloth whipping it about. “Caleb! Help me, please!”
Amanda Furst caught a corner as Caleb caught the other.
“Didn’t want you sailing off,” Amanda said.
Rachel glanced up from anchoring her corner with a rock. Amanda, as always, looked prim and proper in her brown satin dress. “Why, thank you.”
Amanda nodded toward the lighthouse. “He won’t join us?”
“Mr. Taylor was invited, along with his daughter,” Rachel answered. “He said no.”
“Well, at least he has some common sense.” Amanda stood and twirled her parasol over one shoulder. “He would make us all uncomfortable. He treated me abominably in the mercantile.”
“He was just looking out for his daughter. And we were gossiping.”
Amanda raised her chin. “I don’t gossip. I was telling the truth.”
Why Rachel should feel the least bit protective of Mr. Taylor, she couldn’t fathom, but she thought a change in topic was warranted to keep the peace. “I see your brother is here,” she said, nodding toward where a few men were setting up tables.
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Trying to get on Mother’s good side. He’s up to something.”
“I hope he stays clear of my brother.” Sam was well-known as the town terror. A few years older than Caleb, he had harassed her brother more than once when she and Caleb had first arrived at La Playa.
Amanda nodded. “Me, too. I suppose Mr. Morley will be sitting with you?”
Rachel stopped pulling things from the basket and looked up. “I’m not sure. He has relatives visiting from San Diego. I imagine they’re talking business.”
“Oh.” Amanda blushed. “Well…that’s nice. I, ah, better get back to help Mother.” She spun around and returned to where her family was setting out food.
Rachel sat back on her heels. Amanda was interested in Terrance! Before the thought registered any further, a flash of white from the lighthouse drew her eye.
Hannah stood on the catwalk, her chin on the railing, watching the people below. Rachel started to wave a greeting, but then lowered her hand when Mr. Taylor appeared behind the girl and placed his hands on her shoulders. Without turning, Hannah reached up and grasped one of his hands. Such a small gesture, full of trust and innocence. And with it Rachel’s heart softened considerably toward the light keeper.
As if he felt her watching, Mr. Taylor’s gaze caught hers…and held. Something tenuous reached out to her. Almost without realizing it, she rose to her feet, her gaze still locked