Free The Light Keeper's Legacy (A Chloe Ellefson Mystery) by Kathleen Ernst

Emily marveled. “I must write down your recipes.” She’d carried Jane and a blackberry pie from the lighthouse.
    “There aren’t as many of us on Rock as there once were,” Berg-lind Fridleifsdottir said. She was a heavy-set woman with a broad smile who had immigrated from Iceland.
    Mette Friis looked indignant. “But we still set a fine table!”
    Ragna let the older women evaluate neighbors—and meals—come and gone. “I’m sorry your husband can’t come,” she told Emily.
    Emily switched Jane, who was fretting, from one shoulder to the other. “Such it is for lighthouse families. Now that I’m officially assistant keeper, William and I can never leave at the same time.”
    Jane began to whimper. “May I?” Ragna asked.
    “Of course.” Emily relinquished her daughter.
    “There now, little one,” Ragna whispered, swaying back and forth. The baby smelled both sweet and a tiny bit sour.
    She heard Anders’ ringing laugh and glanced toward the men, looking strangely idle as they lounged on logs set near the water. Several were whittling, as if idle hands were too much to bear. Anders, walking after Paul as he chased a butterfly, caught Ragna’s eye and grinned. Watching them together made Ragna’s heart melt like butter in the sun. “I had not known … ”
    “Known what?” Emily asked.
    Ragna realized with a start that she’d spoken aloud. Berglind and Mette had moved away, and Ragna glanced about to make sure no one else was in earshot. “I love my husband dearly,” she said. “But I hadn’t known how fierce love can be until—”
    “Until you had a child.” Emily kissed her daughter. “And the three of you became a family.”
    “Yes,” Ragna agreed. She touched Jane’s cheek with a gentle finger. “All I need now is a sweet girl like this one.” Although she had weaned Paul long ago, she had not become pregnant again.
    But this is a good day, she thought. Not a day for regrets. It was pleasant to see everyone enjoying themselves. And Carrick Dugan had, for his own reasons, stayed away.
    His absence was a gift that buoyed her through the feasting, the boat races, the games and singing. When she settled into bed beside Anders that night, she felt a warm sense of contentment.
    _____
    The day after the picnic Ragna cooked pancakes for breakfast, then carried Paul down to the beach to see the men shove off. “We set nets only about five miles out,” Anders told her.
    “We knew we’d feel lazy after feasting,” Jens chimed in, patting his belly. He was the younger brother.
    Anders cuffed Jens playfully before turning back to his wife. “The wind is fair. I expect to be home by mid-afternoon.”
    But Anders wasn’t home by mid-afternoon, or late afternoon, or early evening. One by one the other Mackinaws returned. “Have you seen Anders?” Ragna asked. “Have you seen my men?” The fishermen shook their heads, shrugged.
    Finally, as the sun was setting, she went to the yellow house at the south end of the village where Anton Jacobson lived. Many of the men worked for Anton, and everyone respected him. “I expected Anders and my brothers home long ago,” she told him.
    Anton squinted at the sky, sniffed the breeze. “It’s fine weather. Your men are good sailors. They can navigate by the stars. I can’t imagine what delayed them, but I expect they’ll be along any time now.”
    Ragna put Paul to bed at Mette’s house, and then paced the beach with a lantern. She walked in tight circles for what seemed like an eternity. Her husband and her brothers—all out in one boat. Bad things can happen out there, Dugan had said …
    Finally she heard the splash of oars. A moment later the Mackinaw came into view, black in the faint glow cast by lantern and moonlight. When Anders stepped out she put the lantern down and ran into the water to meet him, weak-kneed with relief. She tried to help as he stumbled to shore. Carl and Jens hauled the boat onto the beach before sprawling on the