Destiny's Captive (3 page)

“Find anything we can sell?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I did find these.”

She handed him one. He scanned it and asked, “Music?”

“Yes, and his name's on one of the sheets. I think he may have composed them.”

“No one will want to buy this. What else did you find?”

In spite of Tomas's dismissive response, she thought the music impressive. It made her wonder who Noah Yates was beneath his wealthy and yes, angry exterior. She knew a few songs taught to her by her grandparents but they were either religious or borne of the sea, and they certainly weren't the composers.

“Now, these will bring us some funds,” Tomas exclaimed over the open lid of a chest. In his palm were two pairs of expensive gold cuff links. They'd fetch a fine price indeed but for some reason her conscience balked.

“We'll not be selling his things.”

“What? Why not?”

“We've already taken his ship. Doesn't seem right to steal what's inside, too.”

“Since when did you become so holy?”

She cut him a look.

“So, we just leave what's here to rot, or are you planning to give him back the ship someday?”

She had no ready reply.

“Did he scare you with that talk about finding you? Is that what this is about?”

She shook her head. She didn't know what she was about. All she knew was that for some reason she was conflicted over what was usually a fairly straightforward decision. In the end, she gave in to what was best. “You're right, they'll fetch a fine price.”

Tomas continued to observe her closely. “Are you all right?”

“I am. Pay me no mind. Let's see what else is here.”

The chest held a couple changes of clothing, some bedding, a shaving set, and another surprise: paints and a brush. Further exploration turned up an easel behind the bed. On a wall hung a seascape that she'd noticed earlier but hadn't paid much attention to. Now she viewed it with interest.

“Do you think he painted it?” Tomas asked.

She shrugged.

“First music, now paints. Never knew Americans to be so cultured.”

She agreed. The small painting was a night scene of a storm on open water. Dark, brooding clouds were above an angry wave-tossed sea in shades of black and indigo. Flecks of gray capped the roiling waves. Her sister Doneta was the family's art forger and Pilar wondered what she'd make of his talent. To Pilar's untrained eye it appeared to be fairly well done.

“Worth anything, you think?”

“We'll let Doneta decide.”

Tomas placed everything they planned to sell inside a pillow slip taken from the trunk. He added the painting to the haul.

Pilar gave the space one last scan. “I think we're done.”

Tomas agreed. “I'll place this with the guns we found.”

As he departed, the American's ghostlike presence continued to fill both the space and her mind. Knowing she had more pressing matters to worry over, she shook him off and went above deck to join her companions.

W
hen the sun rose, the exhausted Noah was picked up by a ship belonging to the Spanish navy and taken aboard.

After hearing his story, the captain, a reed-thin man in a too-large uniform asked, “A pirate, you say?” He didn't appear too impressed by the tale. “More than likely smugglers or at the very least, rebels. They negotiated a surrender the last time, but lately they've been causing trouble again.”

“I don't care who they are or what they call themselves, I want my ship back,” he said while pacing angrily.

“That's understandable, but they could be anywhere by now, and with no other description than the leader wore a cape and veil . . .” His words faded and he shrugged. “I will file a report when we reach Havana. Maybe your ship will show up at one of the other ports.”

“I need to find my ship!” he declared, pounding on the desk for emphasis.

“Mr. Yates, I know you Americans think the sun rises and sets on your desires, but we may be on the verge of war again, and we can't drop everything to go searching for a ship stolen from you by a woman.”

The man's derisive tone stung. Noah was already embarrassed enough at being a pawn in the woman's game. The sarcastic reminder only added to his frustration, but he reined in his temper. “My apologies for being so rude and overbearing. Were it not for your kindness I'd be still oaring my way back to Havana.” He ran his hand over his tired face. He owed the man his thanks. Another captain might have simply sailed by. Noah prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, but this situation had him at his wit's end.

“We will do all that is possible to learn the fate of your ship, Mr. Yates. I promise you.”

“Thank you.”

A short while later the ship dropped anchor in Havana's harbor and Noah was rowed ashore. After thanking the sailors, his first order of business was to find his crew. He could only imagine what might be going through their heads upon finding the ship gone. To his relief they were holed up at one of the boardinghouses that catered to Americans.

“What's happened?” Dennison asked. “We thought maybe you'd sailed off without us.”

Noah told the tale once more and the men stared, stunned. Before they could ask the many questions he knew they were harboring, he waved them off. “We can discuss the particulars later. Right now, I need to see about securing more funds—did I mention that I was robbed as well?” Just thinking about the pirate git threatened to raise his temper again. “While I'm gone, ask around about another ship going west. I'll pay your passage.” He strode out, leaving the still gaping crewmen behind.

D
awn was just breaking when Pilar and her crew reached the eastern tip of Cuba for the final leg of their journey home. The guns they'd picked up from their smuggler contact in Santo Domingo were safely aboard and now they were slowly sailing up an inland river bordered by rocks and vegetation in an area near the coast. “Watch those rocks, Tomas,” she called out as he piloted the narrow passage.

“I'm minding them, Pilar. Just stop your nagging.”

His tone held a smile and an answering one curved her lips in reply. They both knew the waters like the backs of their hands. Between what she'd learned about these waters from her grandfather and Tomas from his fisherman father they could've navigated the way blindfolded. There were spots so shallow the rocky bed all but scraped the schooner's hull and other stretches wide and deep enough to support a brigantine. That they'd been able to successfully accomplish their mission without a hitch was elating. No one was hurt, the guns were secured below, and other than having to deal with the very angry Noah Yates, stealing the ship had been as easy as the breeze lightly filling the sails. She wondered if he'd had to row the entire distance back to Havana or been picked up by a fishing boat. The waters near the capital were fairly bustling with activity after sunrise, so more than likely someone had come to his rescue. He was still furious, no doubt, and she supposed he had ample reason. After all, they had separated him from his property, and that it had been accomplished by a gang led by a woman was probably even more galling—no man enjoyed being bested by a member of the opposite sex.

Even though she had bested him, his parting words continued to resonate ominously. Something she had no words for had passed between them at that moment and she was still feeling oddly unsettled. She'd taken great pains to keep her features and those of the men with her hidden so he'd not be able to identify them later and she felt confident about having accomplished that as well. It was highly unlikely they'd meet again, yet since casting him adrift, she found herself thinking about him, with his scarred handsome face, even though she had no business doing so.

Her reverie was broken by the sight of the waterfall ahead. This end of the island was mountainous, untamed, and filled with a lush green of paradise, where stands of red bananas, cocoa, coffee beans, and coconuts grew unimpeded. Waterfalls dotted the area, too, offering places to swim, fish, play, and in this case a place to hide. Her grandfather and his most trusted pirate comrades used the cave behind this particular fall to shelter their ships and booty from the prying eyes of the British and Spanish navies. Pilar was reasonably certain the Europeans had no idea what lay behind the cascading water because their ships were too large and bulky to navigate the way, but behind it lay a cave vast enough to safely hold a ship the size of the
Alanza
and not be seen from the outside. She and the men hauled down the sails as they neared the rocks. Everything above deck would be soaked by the deluge as they passed through the powerful flow so they all held on as Tomas slowly steered them through and into the shadowy darkness of the cave.

Once inside they set the anchor and transferred the oilcloth-wrapped guns and powder to the rocky ledge. Eduardo and his son Jose had relatives who lived nearby, so they immediately set out to retrieve a wagon that would be used to transfer the guns to Santiago.

She and Tomas sat on the edge of the rocks to wait. He asked, “Do you think Yates has been found?”

She shrugged. “I wondered about that, too, but I'm sure he has been.”

“Still worried about him finding us?”

She lied, “No, so let's not talk about him.”

He nodded.

When their friends returned, she and Tomas swam out with their cargo and once it was loaded into the wagon's false bottom, they headed south for the two-day journey home. In ten days, they'd return for the
Alanza
to get her refitted, then sail to Santo Domingo for another rendezvous with the gun smuggler.

A
lanza Yates didn't think there was any woman in the world happier than she. Two of her sons were now married and had gifted her with daughters-in-laws and grandchildren she absolutely adored. She'd gotten a big kick out of watching Philadelphia seamstress Mariah Cooper tame her stepson, Logan. Middle son, Andrew, and his wife, Billie, had had an interesting courtship as well. Both married couples lived on Rancho Destino property, the sprawling ranch she'd inherited from her late parents, and having them near gave her joy as well. In a few weeks, her third son, Noah, would be docking his ship, the
Alanza
, in San Francisco, and the thought of having all three boys with her again filled her heart.

“You're awfully quiet, Lanz.”

Alanza snuggled closer to the man holding the reins of the buggy. “Just thinking about how happy and blessed I am to have my family—and you.” The two of them would be marrying in a bit over a week and that made her the happiest of all.

“You're not going to get cold feet and run off on me, are you?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “Even if I did, you'd just hunt me down.”

“Very true.”

She'd known Max Rudd most of her adult life. He'd been best friend to her late husband Abraham, but the circumstances surrounding her relationships with the two men were as different as night and day. Due to her being a foolish and spoiled child, Abe had been forced to marry her. He'd been a widower in those days, and his son, Logan, was six years old. In the years following the wedding, she and Abe grew to respect each other and she'd given birth to first Andrew and then Noah, but the marriage held no passion. After Abe's untimely death, she'd taken over the running of the ranch and Max, being true to the memory of his friend, stepped in to help. She'd no idea he'd been in love with her until recently. Even though she held feelings for him as well, she'd been afraid of being in another loveless relationship and had done everything she could to discourage his suit. However, Max was as stubborn as she was headstrong and refused to let her walk away from the happiness he wanted them both to share, so she, like her sons, surrendered to love. And now, just as soon as Noah arrived, they would become man and wife.

“You still want to have the wedding as part of your birthday celebration?”

“Of course.” Her natal-day parties were legendary in both size and scope. In addition to her many Spanish relatives, most of the people in the surrounding valley would be attending. It wasn't uncommon for her annual celebration to last three days or more, so adding the wedding to the festivities seemed to be a natural solution. She drew back slightly to gauge his handsome face with its graying moustache and temples. “Would you rather I not have my birthday party?”

“Would you cancel it if I said yes?”

She studied him. “The wedding is in less than ten days and all the invitations have gone out. If you're getting cold feet, I need to know now, Max.”

“No cold feet. Just being selfish. Don't want to share you. We're not spring chickens, Lanz, so I want to spend each and every moment that I can with you.”

She cuddled close again. “That's so sweet. After the wedding we're going to be together so much you'll be downright sick of my company.”

“Doubt that, but willing to test it out. Oh, and you might not want to have any wedding guests stay in your wing of the house though.” Her home had two large wings: one for her personal use and one her sons shared growing up.

“Why not?”

“Don't want to have to shoot anyone for breaking down the door once you get to screaming on our wedding night.”

She rolled her eyes. For the past few months, he'd been teasing her unmercifully about the intimate details of the wedding night. “Why do you keep saying that?” she asked on a laugh.

“Because it's the truth.”

“Well, I talked to Billie about this whole screaming nonsense, and I doubt I'll get that carried away.”

He began chuckling. “If you say so. I'd make you bet me, but you're going to be my wife. Not right for a man to take money from his wife.”

Always ready to meet a challenge, she replied confidently, “I'll take that bet. What are you putting up, my handsome
vaquero?
”

“If you lose, you wear my choice of clothing.”

“Your choice of clothing?” she asked dubiously.

He nodded. “I asked Mariah to run me up some things.”

“For me?”

He nodded.

Alanza was so confused she wasn't sure what to ask next.

“And you'll not fuss at Mariah for not telling you, or ask her about my request. Think of it as a surprise wedding gift.”

“But—”

“Promise me, Lanz. I don't ask much from you, but do this for me, and I promise the reward will be the sweetest thing this side of the Rockies.”

Even more confusion set in.

He stopped the buggy, leaned over and kissed her with such practiced ease she momentarily forgot what they'd been discussing. He brushed his lips against hers. “Promise me
querida
.”

Alanza was so lost she would've promised to turn herself into a prized steer as long as the kisses didn't stop. And when they finally did, and he reluctantly drew away, her eyes were closed and her senses were spiraling. She somehow managed to whisper, “I promise.”

Still in the throes of his spell she missed his quiet smile as he got the buggy moving again and drove on.

The following morning, Alanza rode over to the small house belonging to Logan and his wife, Mariah. She had an appointment with her seamstress daughter-in-law to make the final adjustments on her wedding gown. Since leaving Max last evening, she'd been trying to think of a way to get around the promise she'd made to him in order to find out about the mysterious garment he'd commissioned. Fairly confident she'd hatched a reasonable solution, she walked around to the door that led to Mariah's small shop, which was built on the back of the house. Outside playing were her grandchildren, the sixteen-month-old “twin” cousins, Mariah's Little Maria and Billie's son, Tonio. Both were in the wooden pen the mothers fondly referred to as the Baby Jail. At her approach both toddlers ran to the edge of the pen, their little faces filled with joy and their arms raised for her to pick them up. At one point in her life, Alanza had prayed every night for grandchildren. Presently it seemed silly, but back then she'd been utterly convinced none of her sons would ever marry, because Logan was married to his duties tied to running the ranch, and Drew—well, he had a remuda of women that spanned the state. Now, her smile matched theirs.

“How are my two angels this morning?” She picked them each up and placed big fat loud kisses on their chubby cheeks. Tonio immediately squirmed—his way of intimating his desire to be set down. “Oh, no. Your mamas have you in jail for a reason. You're not getting your
abuela
in trouble this early in the morning.” And she set them both back in the pen. Tonio stomped and whined, but she was as immune as the other adults in his life to his little fits of pique. “Tonio, one day you're going to wish you were still little enough to spend your entire day doing nothing.” She blew them kisses and went inside.

Both daughters-in-law were there having a cup of coffee, and like their children greeted Alanza with ready smiles. “Morning, ladies, I'm here for my fitting.”

“Give me just a few more moments of fortification,” Mariah said over a yawn. “Maria woke up in the middle of the night screaming. I think she had a bad dream, and of course, once she calmed down she didn't want to go back to sleep. The sun was coming up before she finally drifted off.”

“You look tired, too, Billie.”

“I am. Having trouble getting a full night's sleep. I think it may be the baby. Drew's been getting up with Tonio so I can sleep in a bit and that's helped immensely.”

Billie's baby was due next winter. Alanza could hardly wait to greet her newest grandchild.

“Where are my sons?” she asked as she walked over to eye her beautiful gold gown on the headless dress form.

“Logan is working in town.”

“Drew's at the bank.”

A few weeks ago, a deadly arson fire destroyed most of the buildings in town. In the midst of the ensuing chaos Billie and Tonio were abducted by a dangerous man from Billie's past. Drew finally found them but only after Billie freed herself from the man's clutches and Tonio was given to a couple in a false adoption. Everything turned out well in the end, and now, every man in the area was helping to rebuild the businesses that had succumbed to the fire. Max and Logan were heading up the construction crew and Drew, whose license to practice law had been laid low by bigotry, was now the town banker, a role he seemed to enjoy.

Once Billie and Mariah finished their coffee, Alanza's nearly completed gown was taken from its form and she donned it carefully to avoid all the pins. Mariah's dressmaking business was thriving. She had a plethora of orders from shops as far away as San Francisco and Seattle but she'd dropped everything in order to bring to life the creation she'd designed for her mother-in-law.

“This is the most beautiful gown, Mariah,” Alanza gushed while viewing herself in the large stand-up mirror.

“Stand still, Mama, please,” Mariah instructed kindly around the pins in her mouth. “We don't want this hem to look like your granddaughter had a hand in it.”

Properly chastened, Alanza complied and added, “Speaking of hands in things, Max said he asked you to make something for me.”

Mariah paused and looked up. “He did.”

“I promised him I'd not fuss at you for keeping it a secret, or ask what it might be, so how about you simply show it to me. That way I won't break my promise.”

Billie chuckled.

Mariah took the pins from her mouth. “Nice try.”

“Please?”

Mariah replied with a smile and carried on with the hemming.

Alanza sighed dejectedly and pouted dramatically.

Billie's eyes sparkled with humor. “Now I know where Tonio gets that. His
abuela
.

Alanza stuck her tongue out at Billie, who laughed.

Alanza tried again. “If I'm to wear it I think I should be allowed to see it beforehand.”

From her spot on the floor, Mariah replied, “Understandable, but you aren't going to. Have you heard from Noah?”

“I received a wire a few days ago. He's in Havana and should be on his way. Please let me see it.”

Billie cracked, “She's persistent if nothing else.”

“That she is,” Mariah spoke. “So while I pin this hem, this would you answer her, please?”

“Sure,” Billie replied. “No, Mama.”

“I'm beginning to hate you both.”

Billie got to her feet and placed a kiss on Alanza's smooth cheek. “We hate you as well. I'm going to free the inmates and take them for a walk. Have fun.”

For the rest of the time at the shop, Alanza continued her quest to extract answers from Mariah, who shook her head at her mother-in-law's persistence but held on to Max's secret and continued pinning away.

H
oping to hear something about his stolen ship, Noah cooled his heels in Havana for three more days, but each day, when he went to see the admiral in charge of the navy and ports, there was no news. Realizing the date for his mother's wedding was fast approaching, he finally gave up. He and his men caught a ferry to Florida. After parting ways with them, he boarded a train for the coast. Due to the rising trend of segregated seating, it was not his preferred mode of travel, but booking passage on a westbound ship that would get him to the States in a timely manner hadn't panned out, so a train had to do. Before boarding he sent Kingston a wire to let him know the
Alanza
had been stolen, and promised to wire him again once he reached home. He brooded over the disturbing turn of events for the entire cross-country journey. What would happen to his company now that they had no way of reaching the people and vendors who relied on them to transport their goods? Would he and King be able to find another ship, and if so at what cost? Would their contacts wait for Yates and Howard to get up and running again or would they move their business elsewhere? Presently, he had no answers and that was frustrating for a man who didn't care for turmoil or chaos. Since leaving Captain Simmons, he'd plotted each and every turn in his life so he would be the person in control. The
Alanza
was his livelihood and without her everything he and King had built for the past ten years was now in jeopardy, all because of a short, masked woman with a rapier.

He arrived at Rancho Destino three days before his mother was due to walk down the aisle.

“Noah!” she exclaimed excitedly as he entered the house and set his valise by the door. She ran to him and he caught her up and held her tightly.