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Back The Lighthouse Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. PART ONE
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. PART TWO
  13. 12
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 18
  18. 19
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 30
  28. 31
  29. 32
  30. 33
  31. 34
  32. 35
  33. 36
  34. 37
  35. 38
  36. 39
  37. 40
  38. 41
  39. 42
  40. 43
  41. PART THREE
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 49
  47. 50
  48. 51
  49. 52
  50. EPILOGUE

His father nodded, his eyebrows knitted together while he pondered one of the clues. Crosswords had been recommended by the doctors as an important recovery exercise—useful for re-­familiarizing with words and helping to rewire the brain when recovering from a major stroke, they’d said. In those difficult early days of rehabilitation, Ryan had needed to sit beside him, work out the answers, and write them down. But now, four years on from that catastrophic event, his father was completing the puzzles all by himself. Well, almost by himself.

“Six letters,” his father said, chewing the nib of his pen. “Remain, ending with r.”

Ryan scratched his jaw. “Hmm. Linger?”

“Ah! That’s it.”

Ryan blew the steam off his tea and glanced out the window. All was calm in the valley; the slopes of the hills were bathed in the sunlight, the sky cloudless and icy blue.

“Looks like the storm has cleared off. That sure was a nasty one, wasn’t it?”

“Haven’t seen one like it for a while,” his father agreed as he scribbled letters into the empty boxes. “The trails won’t be in good shape. Might even be a few trees down.”

“Good point. I’ll go take a look after I turn the horses out.”

“Many bookings for today?”

“I’m not sure. Haven’t had a chance to check.”

“Been awfully quiet of late.”

“Has it?”

“You haven’t noticed?”

“It comes and goes . . . you know how it is.” Ryan took his unfinished mug to the sink and abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, it’s Friday, remember,” he said, turning on the tap. “Don’t forget you’ve got the physio coming this afternoon.”

“Haven’t forgotten.”

“And you need to make sure you head outside for a walk today, okay? At least fifteen minutes.”

His father responded with a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Good for you, Dad.” Ryan dried his hands on a kitchen towel and made for the door, but not before his father reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Ryan, what I said last night, about how I thought you should leave the ranch . . . that wasn’t what I meant to say. It came out all wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, please, let me finish. All I meant was that you don’t have to be trapped in this town forever, not if you don’t want to be. I want you to know that you’re free to make anything of your life, anything at all.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Ryan replied, giving his father a kiss on the forehead. “Seabrook is where I belong. There’s nowhere else I would rather be than here at home, on this ranch, with you.”

•••