It isn't the thunder that wakes her. No, it is the soft rhythmic drumming of the drops on the tin roof. She rolls closer to her husband, snuggling against his broad warm back.

He will be up soon. Moving about their small house on the island, up before the sun crept over the horizon. It's his way. A waterman since before she knew him. It is a dangerous job but he was careful. Careful to a fault, he often joked.

The bell on the alarm clock breaks the song of the raindrops and he sat up. She can feel his gaze upon her.

"Don't go," she whispers, half ashamed of her selfish need of him.

"Why?"

"Just want you to stay with me."

He lays back down, wrapping his arm across her shoulder. "I'll be back. I'll finish early."

She knows better than to argue. He's a waterman. They don't have sick days. They work despite the weather, despite the time of year. They work.

"Did you want me to bring you a cup of coffee?" he asks, moving the covers off to stand.

"I'm getting up."

He pulls his pants on and starts layering his clothes for his day on the water while she goes into the kitchen to fix the coffee.

"Was it another dream? Is that what this is about?" He asks.

"No."

He looks across the kitchen table, watching her in the dim light. "I'll be home early. I promise. "

She smiles. He deserves to see her smile. " It's a bad omen to see a look of worry in your lover's eyes. " That's what he told her.

He pulls his oil skins on and kneels down beside her. " I'll be home soon. You'll see. "

Her fingers trace the callouses on his palm. "I'll be here. Now be care-," He kisses her, cutting off her words.

"I always am." He steps out into the rain and closes the door behind him.

She stares at the empty chair and tries to smile, despite the shiver that wracks her body.