Free Hearts Made Whole by Jody Hedlund

unshaven face, at the blond strands of hair that fell across his forehead. On the one hand, she had the urge to smooth the hair back. From the brief encounter she’d had with him, she guessed he was suffering from more than just physical wounds, that his pains went much deeper.
    But on the other hand, she had the overwhelming urge to slap his cheek and give him a rude awakening. It was his sacred duty to light the lantern each night. If he couldn’t manage to pick himself up off the ground and do his job, then he shouldn’t have agreed to take it.
    She dropped the vial of pills, not bothering to put it back in his satchel, not caring if they spilled all over his bedroll. She pushed down the anger that had been building inside her all day.
    It wasn’t fair. She’d done a nearly flawless job lighting the lantern. She’d taken care of it with the tenderness of a mother with her babe. Everyone for miles around could attest to her unswerving duty these past months. And here was this newcomer, this intruder, who couldn’t get himself up the tower steps to light the lantern the first night on the job.
    She wanted to scream at the unfairness of the situation.
    Somehow he was supposed to be better than her, more suited to the work, simply because he was a man?
    She spun away from him, strode out into the fading evening, and slammed the shed door shut with a force that caused several shingles to fall.
    â€œHe’s worthless!” she cried, her chest aching with frustration. “Absolutely worthless. And he probably doesn’t know a thing about how to work a light either.”
    She crossed the grassy yard to the tower. Her ire swelled witheach step, until she was stomping like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum. But she didn’t care.
    Ryan Chambers didn’t deserve the keeper position at Windmill Point Lighthouse. And she most certainly hadn’t deserved to be fired from the job, only to be replaced by someone as inept as him.
    â€œIt’s not fair!” she cried again before yanking open the passageway door.
    She stepped inside, but then halted at the base of the staircase that led up the tower. Maybe she should just go back into the house and let Ryan take responsibility for his job. If he didn’t want to make a point of lighting the lantern, then that was his problem. Not hers. Maybe then Mr. Finick would hear about Ryan’s irresponsibility and decide to let her stay after all.
    With one foot on the bottom step, Caroline stared up at the underside of the winding metal stairway.
    A battle raged in her heart for only a few seconds before the anger dissipated like a storm after it had unleashed its fury.
    She felt strangely tired and old. With a sigh she forced one foot up after the other, the cast-iron steps pinging with each slap of her boots.
    If Mr. Finick fired Ryan, he wouldn’t let her stay. He’d only find another man to take the job. The truth was, her time at the lighthouse was through. And she needed to accept that, no matter how hard it was.
    The other truth was that she couldn’t leave the lantern unlit—not as long as she had breath and the ability to climb the stairs. She would go up and keep the light burning, no matter what. Sea captains and sailing vessels depended upon the Windmill Point Light for their safety. And she’d never willingly put themin danger. Not even to spite the man who’d taken her job away from her.
    She loved the light too much to ever neglect it.
    She halted halfway up and pressed her hand against the cool brick wall. For a moment she imagined that she could feel its pulse, the tower’s lifeblood pumping through the walls, beckoning her to remain strong and steady.
    Her legs trembled, but she nodded and then continued up the stairs. She needed to stay strong.

Chapter 7
    R yan’s mouth stunk, like a rat had climbed inside and built a nest there. His throat was parched, and his head pounded. He