Quebec, Canada, 1847.
While trying to escape the Potato Famine, shipwrecked Irish immigrant Breanna Clarey awakens injured and alone on an unfamiliar beach. To make matters worse, she has been separated from her family, and her friend, Crow, is lying dead at her feet. But when Dawson Roberts, a reclusive fisherman with a guarded past and big dreams for his future, finds Breanna, he puts his plans on hold to offer her shelter and help find her family.
But life for an Irish immigrant isn't easy. Facing a deadly quarantine station, dangerous immigration officials, and grief over her missing family, Breanna struggles to exert her independence and navigate her new world. While Breanna confronts an unknown future, Dawson is plagued by a painful past. They each must determine their own course, even if it means ignoring the pull they have on each other.
When the future takes an unexpected turn, only the ocean that has brought them so much devastation can help them find their way back to where they belong.
He glanced at her but did not respond to her challenge. Instead, he said, “I want to show you something.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the top of the cliff, where they could get a better look. When they had reached the furthest point of the bluff, he pointed to a small speck across the water. “Do you see that white edifice way over there to the north?”
He had not released her hand, and his touch burned into her. She glanced down, observing their fingers intertwined, his strong, calloused hand grasping her smaller one. The action unnerved her, and she slowly slipped her hand from his, pretending to brush a stray wisp of hair from her eye.
He was still talking, but she didn’t catch his words until he said, “Do you see it?”
Breanna squinted her eyes to see and shook her head, “No, I don’t see what ye be referring to.”
Dawson looked over at her, then tried to follow her line of sight to see where she was looking. Stepping behind her, he laid his arm over her shoulder and pointed in the direction he wanted her to look.
“Over there.”
Breanna would have looked. She wanted to see what he was pointing to. But the feeling of Dawson’s large body standing so close to her arrested her senses, and she lost all ability to think. When she didn’t answer him, he gently turned her head with his other hand to point her in the right direction.
“There,” he said again. This time, she caught a glimpse of the tiny white speck.
“Yes, I see it,” she said, the excitement pushing her voice higher.
“That is Southwest Point Lighthouse. It sits upon Anticosti Island. On days like today when the weather is fair, you can see clear across to the island.”
Breanna stared. “That be an island over there?”
“Yes. When I was a boy, I spent several summers there. The light keeper, Lieutenant James Harvey, was a friend of my grandfather from his time in the Royal Navy. He would let me light the flat-wick burner lamps to illuminate the tower and guide ships coming into the St. Lawrence River. I felt so important, being trusted with such a crucial job.”
She smiled as he reminisced about his childhood. He had moved his arm off her shoulder, but still stood very close to her as he recalled the memory.
“Ye must have felt so proud of yourself.”
“I did. There are twenty-one of those lamps in that tower, and I took pleasure in knowing that I was helping keep people safe.”
“So, ye’ve always saved people from peril?”
“Not always. When I was about twelve years old, there was a terrible shipwreck just south of the lighthouse. Lieutenant Harvey and some of the other men from the island toiled all night, pulling the crew ashore and bandaging wounds. I tried to help, in my limited ability, but I was a scrawny lad back then and didn’t have much strength. It really irritated me that I was unable to help save any of that crew. Only ten of the forty-five crew members survived. It was that summer that I decided I would join the Navy when I was old enough. I would learn to sail those ships and keep my men out of danger so tragic accidents like that wouldn’t happen again.”
The wind had swelled as they stood at the edge of the bluff. Hefty gales whipped the kerchief from Breanna’s head and tangled her skirts about her legs. Exhilarating and powerful, it lifted her spirit until she felt all she needed to do was take one step. One step off the cliff and she was sure she would soar above the water, like a bird free to fly where she will. She wondered where the wind would take her, where would she fly to? Would it take her to her family? Would it drop her on the doorstep of a grand place of employment where she could provide sustenance for her loved ones? The temptation was almost enough to make her actually try it. Would Dawson stop her? Would he rescue her again if she failed to fly? Most certainly not. That would be tempting fate to expect that of him again. He had big plans, and she didn’t want to get in his way.
They fell silent for a moment until Breanna’s curiosity got the best of her.
“So, what happened? Why are ye not still sailing in the Royal Navy?”
“I met Adelais.”
“But I thought ye said ye were visiting your brother in Quebec City when ye met her.”
“Yes, I was. I was home on leave. I had already served six years at sea. When I met Adelais, it changed everything. I no longer wanted to roam aimlessly across the sea. She was my anchor, and it was here that I wanted to stay.”
Breanna felt a slight twinge of jealousy at his confession. To be loved by someone so much that they would change the whole course of their life for you was a beautiful sacrifice and a love that she hoped she too would one day find.
“Even before that time when I was twelve, I knew I didn’t want to be a fisherman. Although fishing was in my blood—it’s all I knew for the first sixteen years of my life—I didn’t want to do it for the next sixteen, or thirty, or however much time the good Lord chooses to grant me upon this earth. Before I decided to join the Navy, I had wanted to herd sheep. My father and brothers used to tease me for it. It seemed ridiculous to them that I would do anything other than be on water. Mother wasn’t happy when I decided to join the Navy, but I think secretly, my father was relieved. The Navy is more advantageous than sheepherding.”
“Ye’ve had opposition from all sides, haven’t ye?”
Dawson grunted a short laugh at that. “Yes, I guess you could say I have.”
Tonya Ulynn Brown is an award-winning historical romance author who writes emotionally rich tales of ancient castles, treacherous plots, and forbidden love. With a deep passion for the turbulent histories of England and Scotland, she brings the past vividly to life through stories where danger and desire walk hand in hand.
Tonya holds a master’s degree and teaches Reading and Writing at the elementary level. Fueled by iced coffees, beautiful books, and an enduring obsession with Mary, Queen of Scots, she fills her days writing, teaching, and researching the lives of long-dead monarchs and other historical figures. Most of all, she loves spending time with her husband, two sons, and one very spoiled French bulldog.
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