Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides Book 3) (8 page)

Lucianna

The temptation to reach out and touch my wild friend was consuming.

A month had passed with only a handful of small storms. The crew had become used to my presence and I’d conformed to the rhythm of the ship. As I sat here in the dim lantern light, talking softly to the animal like it could understand human words, I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through his thick fur. Was it soft or coarse? Would it be warm like a blanket?

I rang the water from my dress and hung it to dry on a length of rope. One of the barrels of fresh water wasn’t safe to drink anymore and Captain Kelley had thoughtfully given it to me in light of dumping it overboard. I’d boiled it and used it to wash the only dress I had to my name. Removing the last of the bandages to expose mostly healed red scars, I tossed them to the side and reached for the bar of rose scented soap. With a rag, I washed every inch of my body until my skin tingled and shone like an egg shell. The wolf watched my every move but that didn’t bother me. He had no way of telling anyone about my indecency. Into a separate bucket, I rinsed and soaped and cleaned my hair. Already, I felt like a woman again. It was amazing the difference a bar of soap and water could make to the quality of my life.

It was when I let my damp hair fall down my back and reached for a robe that the wolf lifted his head with a chilling growl. It rumbled deep in his throat as boot steps echoed down the stairwell. I only had time to clench the thin shift in front of my body before Dreck ducked into the room. The wolf launched at the bars and came close to clawing his leg but the gap toothed man stood wisely out of his reach.

My voice shook like the flickering lantern. “Sir, I ask that you leave right now.”

His eyes hadn’t managed to make it up to my face and distractedly he said, “I was just coming down here to check on the cargo.”

Lies. His smirk didn’t even try to hide the false note in his voice. The snarling and snapping of the wolf behind him was constant as he strode slowly closer. I sidestepped in a wide, slow circle. If I could make it up the stairs and to the captain’s quarters, he’d protect me. My hands shook as he pushed me further.

“The cargo’s fine. Now leave or I’ll scream.”

Dreck’s green eyes had taken on a dreamy look. “I like it when they scream,” he said in a faraway tone.

I closed my eyes as I came within terrifyingly close distance to the caged wolf. He dodged around me, back and forth and back and forth, like he was trying to see the grinning man around my legs. Dreck lunged and grabbed my wrists and just as I opened my mouth to shriek, a boat rattling howl sang out. Dreck jumped away and I covered my ears from the close volume. The clunking of men’s boots could be heard on the deck and Dreck raced for the ladder. I ran for my sopping dress and covered my body with the dripping wetness of it. The most shadowed space in the room wasn’t nearly dark enough for my comfort.

“What’s going on here?” Captain Kelley yelled from above. “What were you doing in the storage hold?”

“Nothing, sir,” Dreck rushed out. “Just checking the cargo and the damned wolf went crazy.”

A beat of silence passed. “You okay down there, miss?” Kelley yelled.

I’d give anything for them not to pile down here and see my bare skin. Even lie through my chattering teeth. “I’m fine!”

“Dreck, I swear on my ship, if you go down into that storage hold again, you’ll hang from the riggings for it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled and the sound of receding boot prints rattled against the bows of the ship.

I sank to the floor as relief and fear flooded me. I was safe for now but how long would that last? The wolf whined and paced the cage.

My whisper was ragged and shaky. “Thank you.”

****

Last night had been a jarring wake up. Any one of those men had access to me at any time. Without Gable to scare the crew away, I was a juicy tomato ripe for the picking. Another chicken crate clattered into place. I couldn’t do much to defend myself but I could build a hidey hole and hope I remembered how to use the knife in my pocket on anyone who got too close. A large reed basket sat on the floor and housed the three remaining chickens. The wolf snapped lazily at some flying bug buzzing around its head and when he rolled over on his side, I could see his prominent ribs under his coat.

“You’ve lost too much weight.” Three chickens left and really, I should’ve been feeding him every two days, even with the extra food from my own plate. It was time to start begging fish from Cook. I ate lightly and scraped the rest of my plate into the corner of his cage. While he ate, I used a straw broom to scoop the picked chicken bones between the bars. Into a bucket they went and I climbed the stairs to throw them overboard. I refused to sit in the storage room for the duration of the journey just to avoid Dreck and his filthy intentions. He’d scared me badly, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Mornin’, milady,” said a leather-skinned man sewing a slit in one of the sails.

“Morning, Ewen.” I tossed the bones overboard.

“Bad weather’s comin’. Best you tie down your belongings and settle in.”

I shielded my eyes from the light that sifted through the clouds. They looked only a little darker than the white, fluffy, harmless ones. “How do you know?”

“Me trick knee’s giving fits. Trust me, miss. It’s coming.”

“All right, thanks Ewen.”

A burly man named Waldon Elridge poured over maps with the captain while Dreck pulled and tied ropes with the other men. He glared at me as I passed but I lifted my chin and walked on by. It wasn’t my fault he’d molested his way into a demotion.

“Cook, I need more food for the wolf.”

The old man chopped away at a leg of dried, salted beef. “Eggs,” he demanded.

I handed him the two in my pocket and said, “He’s getting much too skinny. He needs more to live on. Do you have any fish you can spare?”

He stopped hacking away at the beef and sighed. “I’ll have Ewen try to catch something tonight. Ask me again in the morning.”

The men burst into a fit of yelling out on deck. Cook dropped the knife and ran, and I followed him in a bewildered haze.

One of the men clung to the top of the mast. “I see a ship!” he yelled. He bounded down the sails like an exotic monkey and snatched a spying glass from another’s outstretched hand. Faster than I thought possible, he was back in position again. “It’s definitely British and coming in fast.”

Captain Kelley cursed. The clouds had darkened considerably, like trails of swirling smoke dotting the sky, and he pulled the wheel toward them.

“We’ll hit the storm head-on,” Dreck warned.

“The Anna Gale can handle the weather. Can they?”

“We won’t lose them. It’s only a matter of time,” Cook said quietly.

“Hide the cargo!” Kelley ordered. His stormy gaze crashed into mine. “Get on below and keep the wolf quiet.”

Before I’d even reached the ladder, two men pulled away the wooden lip that identified it as an opening. Ewen held a square of wooden planks that fit perfectly over the hole and when I’d gone below, he secured it into place. Stacks of extra sails and wood were thrown on top and blocked the gray light from reaching the hold. The wolf paced frantically, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. His icy blue eyes were drawn time and time again to the plugged opening. A heart-wrenching whine escaped his throat. I knew how he felt, trapped here in the belly of the ship. The gaping mouth, our only escape, had clamped closed to start our slow digestion. The walls creaked inward and threatened to close in on us until we didn’t exist anymore. I drew a ragged gasp of air. What if we suffocated down here in the dark? The wolf’s throat moved as a helpless noise escaped it.

“We have to be quiet, Wolf. Our lives depend on it.”

His wet tongue stroked my knuckles and I shrieked and fell backward. I’d been so enthralled with looking at our inability to escape, I hadn’t noticed I’d squatted by the cage and wrapped my fingers around one of the bars. And he’d chosen to lick instead of maul. He lifted his head and lowered it again, like a graceful indecisive dance as he paced. Slowly I stretched my hand toward his cage again. My fingers shook as they reached for the short fur on his muzzle. He leaned through the cage and just as I was about to touch him, the boat rocked dangerously to the side and I tumbled back. The basket of squawking chickens slid across the floor and landed against the farthest wall. The waves above pounded so relentlessly, saltwater sloshed in through the cracks of the ceiling. I hurried to steady the sliding crates.

My seasickness came back with a vengeance over the next few hours. The ship rolled and groaned and my stomach turned on me while I scurried about, trying to protect the casks and wine. I tied down anything I could with loops of rope and while my knots could use work, they got better with time and effort. I was drenched with briny water and rain that showered down upon me, and my feet sloshed through an inch already. I hadn’t any way to know how many hours we tumbled through the storm, but when the waves finally slowed to a manageable thrashing once again, daylight no longer crept through the planks of the ceiling. I blew out the lantern and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Men’s raised voices bellowed through the hold and I climbed the stairs and pressed my ear against the damp wood. Sifting through the sounds of wind and drumming boot prints, a man said, “Why, if you have nothing to hide, did you avoid us boarding your ship for the better part of a day?”

Captain Kelley’s boisterous voice spoke up. “We thought you were pirates.”

The other man didn’t sound convinced. “And the British flags we were flying didn’t give us away.”

“There’re British pirates, too. Why have you braved a storm to board our humble ship?”

“We’re looking for a murderer.”

“Ahh, fair enough. Men, out of the lot of you, have any of you ever murdered someone else?”

“Me,” said one, followed by a chorus of
ayes
. Cheeky thieves.

The man sighed tiredly. “The one we’re looking for is a woman. Pretty, fair hair, about yay tall.”

“Is there a reward for her?” Dreck asked.

“Is her name Florence?” Ewen asked.

“Betsy? Gertrude?” Kelley asked. “Oh! Brunehilda?”

“I think we’ll search your boat if you don’t mind.”

Captain Kelley’s voice sounded poisonous. “Be my guest.”

I shot a warning glance to the chickens who clucked contentedly in their wicker basket. The wolf had gone preternaturally still. His eyes trained on the hidden opening as if it would open at any moment. I steadied my breathing and clenched my hands to stop them trembling. From the sound of the boots above us, there were a large number of likely armed men looking for me. I sidled closer to the wolf. I couldn’t help it. Nothing else in the dark room offered any comfort. As my eyes adjusted, pale moonlight filtered through the untarred cracks of the ceiling planks. Shadows cast about as the men walked just over my head.

“Move this out of the way,” the man said. The pile of wood above me made a hollow thunking sound.

“I think you’ve torn up my boat quite enough, fellows. Best be getting back to your ships before I lose my patience. I’ve been more than accommodating to a band of off duty British officers not even in uniform, don’t you think so, boys?”

“Aye,” the crew said in unison.

“This isn’t about bringing in a murderer,” Kelley said. “Now, I don’t know who sent you, but you’ve run down the wrong ship.”

“If you knew who sent us, you’d understand our need to search every square inch of every ship we can find.”

“Sounds like your problem.” A gun clicked. “Not ours.”

The clanging of blades and swords was immediate and the blast of gunfire filled the night. The wolf scratched desperately on the ground near the door as the sails that hid us scraped against the dampened deck. I ran for my hiding place and unsheathed my blade as the door to the storage opened. A handful of men filed down into the room. They were dressed in billowing shirts and dark tanned pants and black leather riding boots that reached their knees. A man with long, blond hair pulled back into a leather band at the nape of his neck headed straight for the back of the room and right past me. The wolf scratched and clawed frantically, digging grooves into the wood by the cage door.

“Look what we have here,” a short, redheaded man said. He pointed a pistol at the wolf’s head.

“No!” I screamed. I lunged for him and plunged the knife into his shoulder up to the hilt.

His hand was a flame as it blasted against my cheek and I hurtled backward. The blond man lifted me by my hair with a cruel smile. “You’re a very valuable little stowaway, Ms. Whitlock.”

If I wasn’t a lady, I would’ve spat right in his smirking face. He pushed me forward with a painful wrench of my hair and I struggled against him. The wolf snapped and snarled as I passed and in desperation I grabbed onto the bars. He kept pulling my hair but if only I could reach the latch, the wolf would give a distraction.

I used all of my strength to pull myself forward, and I gritted my teeth against the pain of my hair separating from my scalp. My wet fingers found purchase against the slippery iron latch and I pulled with the last of my ability. I’d unlatched it but failed to open the heavy iron door. I watched my salvation slip away until the huge wolf pressed two ferocious paws against the door and shoved it opened like he’d done it a hundred times.