Read Online Gifts from the Sea by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock - Free Book Online

that,” Papa said. “That's why she should go with you. She needs a woman's influence. She needs more than I can give her.”
    Papa walked away, so he didn't hear Margaret's answer.
    “You mean she needs more than you're willing to give,” she said. I did hear her, but I didn't understand what she meant.

slept not one wink that night. I felt like a ship dashed on the rocks, with the sea pushing me one way, and the wind pulling me another. How could I decide between staying and leaving, between living with Papa or abandoning him to go with Margaret and Celia? There was the lure of faraway places, and my love of Devils Rock, both of them strong and tugging at me.
    Not having slept, I rose early to fix breakfast. Margaret stumbled in and I could tell that she hadn't slept, either. Neither of us was hungry again, so Mr. Callahan got three servings of porridge, and I kept Papa's hot on the back of the stove. But Papa didn't come for breakfast.
    I knocked on his door. When there was no answer, I peeked in. His bed hadn't been slept in. I checked the tower. The lamps were still burning. Papa had not been in the tower room. With fear beginning to prickle my skin, I ran down to the boat landing. Papa's skiff was gone.
    Papa had never left like that before. Something was terribly wrong.
    Margaret was as worried as I was.
    “Why would he just leave without telling us?” she said.
    “I'm sure there's no need to worry,” Mr. Callahan said. “He probably just went for supplies.”
    “He would have told us,” Margaret said.
    Mr. Callahan frowned. “Has Mr. MacKinnon ever left the light unattended before?” he asked.
    Margaret whirled on him, and I swear her eyes were snapping blue sparks.
    “The light is
not
unattended,” she said. “Quila is here and she's every bit as capable of keeping the light as Mr. MacKinnon or Abby Burgess or anyone else, for that matter!”
    I smiled, thinking Abby just might have met hermatch in Margaret Malone, and I was grateful for Margaret's loyalty, but worried no less.
    “I guess I can wait here one more day,” Mr. Callahan said, “but I'll have to leave tomorrow. If Mr. MacKinnon hasn't returned by then, I'll have to appoint a replacement.”
    I blew out the lamps, trimmed the wicks, and polished the reflectors. I was grateful I had something to keep my hands busy, but wished the same for my mind. I couldn't come up with a good reason for Papa to leave the way he had, and worried about his state of mind. His heart had never healed from losing Mama, and to lose Margaret, too … maybe he'd left us for good. If that were true, and if Margaret left with Celia, I'd be truly alone. I could see myself roaming the cliffs at night, my hair wild, keening into the wind, growing mad as Mrs. Blair had.
    I spent the day on the cliffs, my eyes trained on the horizon, watching for Papa's boat, but there was nothing but the grey sea.
    Margaret brought out a woolen blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders.
    “Come in for some hot tea,” she said, but I shook my head.
    “He'll be all right,” Margaret said. “If ever a man could take care of himself, it's your father.” She hesitated, but I knew what she was going to ask. If I'd made my decision.
    “I cannot leave the light unattended,” I said. “And I won't leave Papa. He seems strong, but he isn't. He needs me.”
    I watched for Papa as long as there was daylight, and then climbed the tower steps to light the lamps. I'd seen Papa do it a thousand times, no, three thousand times, and I'd even helped him do it, but still, my hands shook as I held the match to the wicks.
    Margaret put Celia to bed. I heard her singing:
    On wings of the wind o'er the dark rolling deep,
angels are coming to watch o'er thy sleep.
Angels are coming to watch over thee,
so list to the wind coming over the sea.
Hear the wind blow, love, hear the wind blow.
Lean your head over and hear the wind blow.
    I wandered back down to the kitchen. Margaret joined me and we sat,