Rapture's Tempest (4 page)

“Hey, Archie! Look what we got here!”

Archie chortled to his companion, “What ya hidin’ out in the dark alley for, boy?”

Delight froze momentarily at their verbal assault and then started to flee, but the drunken roustabouts were too fast for her. A hamlike fist grabbed her and threw her back against the side of the building.

“Let me go!” she hissed. “I ain’t done nuthin’!”

“Listen to that high voice, Sam,” Archie smirked. “Why the kid’s voice ain’t even changed yet!”

“Must be a young un,” Sam deduced. “Ya got any money, kid?”

He loomed over her threateningly. “Gimme your money. Archie and I done run a little short.”

“I ain’t got no money,” Delight lied, hoping they wouldn’t find Rose’s coins hidden in her shoe.

“Well, let’s jes’ check them pockets, Sam, and see what this little guy’s got that we can use.”

“NO!” The protest was out before she could stop it. Twisting furiously, Delight squirmed and kicked, trying to break free. “Let me go!”

But the men only laughed, snarling, victorious laughs, that enraged her even more.

“Help!” she yelled as loudly as possible, struggling in helpless frustration.

“Hold still!” Sam commanded, giving her a tooth-rattling shake.

“NO! Let me go!” She finally managed to kick out and her foot made contact with Sam’s shin.

Grunting in painful surprise, the drunk loosened his hold momentarily, and that was all she needed to break free. With a burst of speed, she fled the scene. And, running as if the devil himself was chasing her, Delight darted out into the main street, dodging horses and carriages in her quest for safety.

“Where’d he go, Sam?” Archie bellowed.

“That way,” Sam pointed, and they followed her down the street in hot pursuit.

The snow was beginning to fall in earnest as Jim and Ollie left the stifling smokiness of Harry’s saloon. They paused only briefly to catch their breath in the frigid winter air before heading back to their home—the steamer
Enterprise
. It was then that the young boy, running at top speed with his head down and not looking where he was going, collided full force with Jim, jolting them both.

Delight looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes, as strong yet gentle hands helped to balance her. “Hold on there, boy. What’s your rush?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, remembering to keep her tone husky.

“There he is! Get him, Sam!” Archie’s strident shout reached Delight.

Looking back nervously, she tore herself free from the big man’s steadying grip and dashed down a nearby gangway.

Jim and Ollie exchanged quixotic glances before stepping forward to block the path of the two drunken louts.

“Two on one’s a little unfair, don’t you think, Ollie?” Jim folded his arms across his broad chest and glared at the two rowdies.

Ollie shifted his stance defensively. “I sure do. What do you two want with the boy?”

“He done robbed us!!!” Archie lied.

“And he attacked me!” Sam embellished.

“I find that a little hard to believe,” Jim taunted, eyeing their bulk. “Get out of here and leave the boy alone or I’ll make sure you never work on this riverfront again.”

“Sez who?” Archie challenged drunkenly, swaggering bravely forward.

“Me,” Jim replied quietly, and he was ready when the roustabout swung at him wildly.

With cold precision, Jim’s right upper cut laid Archie low as a stunned Sam looked on.

“You were leaving?” Jim asked sarcastically.

Sam jumped into action and helped Archie to his feet. He guided him away, and they both glared resentfully over their shoulders at Jim and Ollie.

“Nothing like a little surprise to stir up your blood,” Jim grinned, turning, but he was surprised to find that Ollie had disappeared down the heavily shadowed passage in search of the youth.

Following, Jim heard their voices ahead of him in the darkness.

“You can come out now,” Ollie was saying in a reassuring tone. “The captain and I took care of them.”

The sound of a creaking crate was followed by the boy’s respectful reply. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, son. But what are you doing down here? This is no place for a youngster,” Ollie scolded him, judging his age to be no more than fourteen or fifteen.

“I found that out, sir. I’ll be going now.”

Jim somehow sensed the youth’s nervousness as he joined them. “Where are you going? Home?”

“I don’t have a home. I take care of myself,” Delight replied bravely.

“Well, it doesn’t look like you’re doing too good a job,” Jim said sarcastically, staring at the boy’s dirt-streaked face. “What’s your name?”

Delight panicked—a name! Grasping for an idea, she blurted out, “Del Murphy.”

Jim studied the boy thoughtfully. “You need a job, Del Murphy?”

For the first time that night, hope flared within her. “Yes, sir!” Delight answered eagerly. Then, feeling Jim’s eyes upon her, she shifted uncomfortably. The man had the most piercing gaze…it was almost as if he could see right inside of her…as if he knew her most intimate secrets.

“What do you think, Ollie? I do still need a cabin boy.”

“He’s a little on the skinny side, but I guess he’ll do.” Ollie voiced his opinion, feeling a certain empathy for the youth. It was rough to be alone in the world. Especially in the wintertime.

Delight looked back and forth at the two men, trying to judge their thoughts.

“All right. But one question first.” Jim was serious and he drew the boy’s full attention. “Murphy—did you steal anything from those two men? I want the truth.”

Standing straighter, her chin tilting in pride, Delight looked him in the eye. “No, sir. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

“You’ve got yourself a job. But Murphy…”

“Yes, sir?”

“If I ever find out that you’ve lied to me…” Jim threatened.

Delight nodded nervously, all the while wondering what she’d gotten herself into.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” Delight answered quickly when she realized that he was expecting a reply.

“Good. You’ll be working for me on my steamer, the
Enterprise
. I’m Jim Westlake, the captain, and this is Oliver Fitzgerald, my first mate. We run from St. Louis to New Orleans when the river’s open, but right now we can only get a little south of Memphis.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

Delight was dumbfounded at the discovery that Jim Westlake was one of her rescuers, and she wondered if her life could possibly get any more complicated. Though she had never
met him in person before, she was friends with Renee Westlake, and Renee had spoken often and proudly of her brother-in-law Jim, who captained a steamboat. Groaning inwardly, Delight braced herself for the arduous task ahead…keeping her identity concealed.

“Well, let’s get on back to the boat and warm up,” Ollie encouraged.

“Let’s go, Murphy.” Jim and Ollie led the way down the snow-trodden street.

Delight found it remarkably easy to keep up with them in the snow without the cumbersome weight of her skirts and petticoats. Hurrying along behind, she concentrated on the rhythm of their manly gait and tried to imitate their purposeful strides. She knew that if she could successfully master their walk, she’d be able to fool anybody from a distance. But close up—well, she’d worry about that later, although she was sure her disguise was pretty effective, for neither man had given her more than a second glance.

The furious pounding on the door brought Rose upright in her bed, and, clutching her quilt about her, she ventured into the sitting room.

“Open up, Rose,” Martin ordered arrogantly. “I know she’s in there.”

“Martin? What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as you let me in.”

“Just a minute,” she called out, stalling, not wanting to face him in her present state of undress.

“Well, hurry it up or I’ll break the damn door down.”

Lighting a lamp, she pulled on her dress and fastened it quickly, knowing full well that Martin could very easily force his way in. Girding herself, she went back to admit the hated man to her house.

As soon as Rose had slid the bolt free, the door was slung violently open, crashing against the wall. Stepping into the room, his manner overbearing, he glanced around, searching for some sign of Delight. When he could find no trace of her, Martin directed his attention back to Rose, surveying her worn dress and work-reddened hands.

Smirking at her obvious poverty and glad that she was suffering, Martin faced her squarely. “All right, Rose, where is she?”

“Who?” Rose’s innocent answer did sound convincing, but Martin didn’t hesitate in his purpose.

“There’s no point in playing games with me. We both know she came here and—”

“Who came here?” Rose cut him off in agitation.

“Delight,” Martin responded through gritted teeth, growing angrier by the minute.

“Delight, here? No, Martin. I haven’t seen her,” she maintained steadily, not retreating from his obvious anger.

“Don’t lie, Rose. She had nowhere else to go.”

“Obviously, she did, because she didn’t come here.” Sensing his barely restrained violence, she countered, “Go ahead and search the place if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t believe you, Rose. And I think I
will
take a look around.” Stalking past her, he explored the back room.

Rose’s blue eyes were frosty with dislike when he returned to her. “Did you find her?”

“No, but—”

“Then get out of my house, Martin Montgomery, and don’t ever come back,” she ordered, unafraid of this spineless man, who preyed on helpless women.

Martin, recognizing her disdain, decided to put the
smart-mouthed wench in her place. With lightning speed, he grasped her wrists and wrenched her closer to him.

“I’ll go when I’m ready,” he sneered, enjoying her struggle to free herself from his painful grip. “But remember this moment. Rose. For I could have you right now, if I wanted you.” Then, with seemingly little effort, he shoved her away. “But I don’t want you. You’re old and you look it.” He let his critical gaze sweep over her, taking in her tired features and her too-thin body. “No. You don’t have to worry about that. No self-respecting man would ever want to have anything to do with you.”

“Get out,” she seethed, rubbing her bruised wrists. Rose was furious that he’d been able to manhandle her so easily.

Indolently straightening his coat, he looked at her coldly once again. “Tell Delight that I’m looking for her and that I won’t quit until she’s back home where she belongs.” Then, turning on his heel, he was gone, the only reminder of his visit the livid welts on Rose’s arms.

As the sound of her father’s footsteps ascending the staircase echoed into the study, Annabelle smiled invitingly at Wade.

“I thought he’d never leave,” she complained sensuously.

“If you’d marry me, we wouldn’t have these problems.”

Wade’s words sounded lighthearted, but Annabelle knew that he was serious.

“Wade—” she began, her tone brooking no comment, “we’ve been through this before, and you know how I feel about marriage. Let’s just enjoy the relationship we have.”

Wade didn’t respond as he poured them both a brandy and carried the crystal snifters back to her. He had loved Annabelle for a long time now, and he would never give up hope that one day she would change her mind about marriage. He didn’t know why she never wanted to wed; he just knew that it was the one subject she absolutely refused to discuss with him.

“For you.” He handed her the liquor and sat down easily beside her.

Taking the goblet with both hands, Annabelle swirled the potent liquid, warming it with her palms. “Thank you.”

Their eyes met and locked as they both sipped the heady brew. Silently, Wade admired her delicate beauty, marveling that such a fragile-looking woman could be such a formidable foe. He was glad that they were working for the same side in this war.

“How did I do?” she asked.

“You were magnificent.”

“Good. I do detest pleading my case before those imbeciles, but we really will need their help with this one.”

Wade nodded his agreement. “They’re all we have. I wish I could tell you that they’ll be there when we need them, but, apart from Gordon Tyndale, I don’t think there’s a real man among them.”

“I had that impression, too. The war’s been going on for three years now, and not once have they taken any action.”

“Well, under our direction, that’s all going to change.”

Raising her glass in a toast, Annabelle spoke, “To the Cause. May it never die.”

As their glasses met, their fingers touched, and thoughts of the war faded from their minds. Wade took her snifter and put it on the small table with his, then, without speaking, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. Passion, long suppressed, flamed to life as Annabelle strained against him.

“My darling.” Wade spoke breathlessly as they broke apart. “I love you.”

He bent to kiss her again, not caring that her father slept upstairs, not caring that the door was open and anyone could have walked in on them. When he was in Annabelle’s arms, nothing else mattered…

“Annabelle?” He spoke softly when he ended the kiss, but his expression was worried.

“About We stlake.”

Always aware of Wade’s thoughts, Annabelle was instantly alert to what was coming, and it irritated her. She knew that
Wade loved her, but he had no right to feel that he had any claim on her. Why couldn’t he just accept it?

“I don’t want to share you, Annabelle.”

She met his gaze without wavering. “I have no intention of marrying Westlake.”

“God, I hope not.”

“But what about you?” She quickly distracted him. “Are you still going through with your plans?”

“You mean courting his sister?”

She nodded.

“I think it’s important. That way, if for some reason you’re unable to get the information out of Jim, we’ll have another option.”

“That’s a good idea. You’ll have to let me know how you’re doing.”

“Just be careful. Remember, I’m an engaged woman now. Whenever you stop by, it will have to be to see my father.”