Lightkeeper's Wife Read Online Free PDF

clam, she leaned in close, face upturned, and John kissed her, the taste of seawater in their mouths. When he stopped, she felt dizzy.
    All that summer John’s trips up to the store became more frequent, and Hannah took him to all her favorite places, rowing through the salt marsh near the bay, fishing off the Mill Bridge, clamming on the flats. They went out cod fishing with her father and came across a humpback whale sunning itself, its massive, sleek black body and ridged fins floating quietly. “I’m not a man who wants to harpoon that whale, Hannah. I’ll never be rich.”
    Hannah ran her fingers along his neck, and she kissed his Adam’s apple when her father wasn’t looking. They stood together at the stern of the boat to watch the whale turn itself over in the sun, water running off its body, and the splash when the tail slapped the water and soaked the boat.
    ***
    Oct 12: Winds > 30 NE, rain, 0 visibility
    Oct 13: Ship aground, total wreck, one survivor, NE < 20
    Over the logbook were pinned the torn pages from the almanac with the tide charts for each month. She checked the tide and filled in the events that she’d been too busy to record, right after John’s notes from his last scan of the horizon that day he’d left for Barnstable. With the house restored to order, she sat by the shipwrecked sailor and watched him sleep. Then she was on her feet again and casting about for something to do. She ate a piece of toast standing at the kitchen counter. The humming through her body drove her outside to gather wood from the pile on the front porch. In between trips to the lights, heating the room became her focus, warming the sailor back to health, waiting for him to wake up and for John to come home.
    She and John had been married for over six years now. The second summer of their marriage, when Hannah was twenty years old, they had their first real fight. John hadn’t allowed her to row to a wreck, even though the storm had passed and there was no real hazard. Hannah couldn’t accept his judgment that no wife of his would endanger herself on his behalf. “You want me to participate in your life here, to take on your responsibilities, but only those that you see fit.”
    â€œYou do plenty, Hannah, more than your share. This is for your own safety.” The calm in his voice was a counterpoint to her anger.
    â€œI think I can judge what’s safe for me and what’s not. I’ve been in boats my whole life. It’s torture for me to know there are men drowning with the lighthouse in view, and I’m stuck on shore. It makes no sense.” Hannah paced behind him where he sat at the table, until he stood up and crossed the room to put his plate in the sink. She followed at his heel.
    â€œYou’re in no position to judge what’s safe, Hannah. You’d row to Nantucket in a snow squall if it suited you.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous and you know it. I just want to help. Yet you want to keep me cooped up in the house like all the other wives.”
    John turned from the sink, face flushed, his voice angry but even. “I can’t believe that you think I’m concerned with myself when it’s you I’m concerned for.”
    â€œYou’re not concerned for me at all. You’re concerned for your own pride. You don’t want any wife of yours risking her life alongside you. What kind of a man would allow that? Not John Snow. What would people think?”
    â€œHannah, stop it.” He stepped toward her. “You’re being unreasonable.”
    â€œI am not unreasonable,” she spat. “You’re a coward.”
    He held her wrists down by her sides and wrapped his arms around her to calm her, but she fought him, flailing with her torso and legs. She struggled to free her wrists and writhed against him. “Let me go, John. Let go.” But he didn’t let go until she’d worn herself out and