Rapture's Tempest (9 page)

Her thoughts turned to her mother, and she said a quick prayer that her health was improving. Then, after adding a plea for guidance and protection, she squared her shoulders and prepared to return to Jim’s cabin.

Delight was hoping against hope that the captain would be gone when she got back. His presence made her jittery and unsure of herself, and she found it difficult to concentrate when he was nearby. She was not to be given a reprieve, though, for when she reentered the stateroom Jim was at his desk busily going over some papers.

“Did you get breakfast?” he asked, not looking up.

“Yes, sir.”

Jim nodded. “Get what ever work you’ve got to do in here done, because I’m going to bed in about five minutes,” he ordered, fatigue evident in his voice.

Without another word, Delight hurried to turn down his bed. With a groan of exhaustion, Jim pushed away from his desk and stood up.

“Don’t wake me unless it’s a major disaster. Is that understood?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” she answered hastily, anxious for him to go to sleep so that she wouldn’t have to worry about him.

“Good,” he stripped off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to do this morning?”

“No,” he told her as he shed his pants and went to the washstand to wash. “There’s nothing pressing. Find Ollie; he should have some jobs for you to do.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, her gaze straying to his powerful back. He seemed so lean…so strong. She felt a strange stirring deep within her and reluctantly forced her eyes away. “Well, I’ll be going. Do you need to be up at any certain time?”

He turned to face her.

“Why don’t you plan on getting me up about noon?” he yawned, toweling himself off and heading for the bunk.

Delight almost scurried out of his way, but though Jim looked at her oddly for a minute, he was too exhausted to give her behavior a second thought.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that, sir,” she told him, making her way to the door. “Good night, sir.” Her hand was on the doorknob as she heard the bunk creak under Jim’s weight.

“Murphy?” The sound of his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Sir?” she answered meekly.

“It’s not night…it’s morning,” he chuckled, pulling the covers up over him.

“Right. Well, uh, good morning then, Captain.” And with one last glance in his direction, she fled the cabin.

It was nearly noon when Delight returned to Jim’s stateroom with a pot of freshly brewed coffee in hand. She entered quietly. She had experienced his irritation once at her ineptitude, and she intended never to give him another opportunity to criticize her.

Why his opinion of her should matter so much she didn’t know, but for some reason she wanted to please him. Delight didn’t have time to analyze her feelings, and the way things
were right now, she didn’t want to. She would do the job Jim had hired her for and hope to avoid trouble until she could find a way to straighten out her life. How she was going to do that, she didn’t know. But somehow, some way, in time, she would.

Her long hours working with Ollie that morning had helped to restore some of her self-confidence, and she felt more able to deal with the captain now. Glancing at Jim where he lay on his bed, she let her gaze roam thoughtfully over him. She would never tire of watching him…of being with him. He was the most interesting, confusing man she had ever met. Her thoughts flew to that morning and the image of Jim standing so tall and so proudly male before her. He was a magnificent-looking man, and Delight felt the inexplicable urge to touch him.

“Sir,” she called, not too loudly, as she poured a cup of the steaming brew “It’s noon.”

When her word didn’t wake him, she approached the bunk. Lying on his stomach with his face turned away from her, the blankets covering his lower half, Jim was still asleep. Delight took the moment to really look at him. He was so handsome…her heart skipped a beat as she stood breathlessly by his side.

Delight hadn’t really given much thought to men’s bodies before today, for she had had no experience with them at all. But the feelings Jim Westlake had awakened in her were totally different from the stark terror Martin’s overtures had aroused. The sight of Jim last night dressed for his evening out had created a glowing warmth within her and aroused a bit of jealousy, too, she admitted to herself. And today, watching him sleep, she felt protective…the word that flitted through her mind startled her and she frowned at the thought…loving? Did she love him? How could she? He thought of her as a boy…he hadn’t even guessed she was a woman…and, after listening to bits of his conversation yesterday with Mark Clayton, she knew that Jim liked his women beautiful. Delight had never met Annabelle Morgan, but she’d
heard of her. Her beauty was almost legendary on the St. Louis social scene, and if Jim had won her hand…well, what chance did she have with her hair bobbed and dressed in boy’s clothes?

Forcing that depressing thought from her mind, she reached out and touched his shoulder. The contact was shocking, as the warmth of his flesh seemed to brand her, and she moved a safe distance away, not wanting him to see her confusion.

“Captain,” she said loudly, and, had he been fully awake, he surely would have noticed the tremor in her voice.

“What!” he almost snarled, coming awake suddenly.

“It’s after noon, sir. I’ve brought you some coffee.” Delight sounded more self-assured than she felt.

“Oh.” Jim rolled to his back. Still tired, he threw a forearm over his eyes and lay still. “Is anything happening?”

“No, sir. But there are an awful lot of Union soldiers on board.”

Jim grunted, but didn’t move. “You might as well get used to them. We work for the Department of the Army, and we’ll have them on board every trip.”

“We work for the government?” She was surprised.

Jim heard the curious note in her voice and lifted his arm to peer at her for a moment. Delight was worried, but evidently he was satisfied with what he saw, for he lay back down again. “Just about everybody does now. There wouldn’t be much business without them. At least not until the river’s finally open again.”

“Oh.” She let the subject drop, feeling that she had somehow trespassed on a topic that was none of her business. Delight vaguely remembered Mark Clayton’s saying something the day before about doubling the guard, but she wasn’t sure what it was they were guarding.

“Where are you from, Murphy?”

“I lived out in the country for a while.” She wasn’t lying, she reassured herself. She had spent some summers with her Uncle Joe and Aunt Faith.

“Then what were you doing down on the riverfront?” Jim rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Delight debated how much of the truth to tell. She wanted to confide in him…to share her burden…to have him reassure her and tell her that everything would be all right. But she couldn’t tell him. Not now.

“I had a run-in with my stepfather and he threw me out.” She tried to sound casual.

“But you’re just a kid,” Jim argued.

“It didn’t matter to him. I was just another mouth to feed.” She shrugged in what she hoped looked like boyish indifference.

“How long had you been out on your own?”

His question caught her by surprise and she looked up quickly. “Not long,” she answered carefully.

Jim stood up to stretch and the covers dropped away. “Hand me my pants, Murphy.”

Delight handed him the wanted garment.

“Thank you,” he told her sleepily, pulling them on. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Why don’t you go get something to eat and bring back my lunch when you finish. We’ve got a lot to do this afternoon and I’m going to need your help.”

“Yes, sir.”

Delight was glad to get away from Jim and the intimacy of the room, for she was uncertain whether the feelings of closeness and trust he inspired were real or something she’d invented in her own mind. Hurrying down the deck, she tried to dwell on other things, but, as it had been all morning, the vision of Jim, so strong and virile, was burned into her consciousness and she knew she would think of only him for the rest of the day.

“Murphy.”

The sound of the opening door and Jim’s voice so near
barely penetrated Delight’s exhausted slumber. Curled on her side, she slept on, unaware that her boss stood in the connecting doorway of their two cabins, watching her.

“Is he awake?” Mark asked from his seat in Jim’s stateroom.

“No,” Jim answered, still staring at the boy.

He frowned to himself. Murphy looked like a child as he lay there sound asleep. How could his stepfather have thrown him out? He was so young…Jim felt an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness arise within him. He had always made it a point not to get personally involved with his crew, but looking at Murphy now he knew it was hopeless. He would watch over him and try to guide him.

“Is something wrong?” Mark’s voice came again, stirring Jim from his thoughts.

“No,” Jim answered over his shoulder. “Murphy! Get up.”

Delight came awake suddenly, startled by the sound of the man’s demanding voice. Her sleep-clouded mind refused to acknowledge where she was and she stared at Jim in open confusion.

“What?” she croaked, an element of terror evident in her speech.

“Murphy, wake up.” Jim hid a smile as he snapped out orders to his cabin boy. “I need you to run down to the bar and bring a bottle of scotch back to the cabin.”

Shaking her head, she continued to stare at him for a moment until reality cut through her dreamlike state. Why just before she’d awakened, Jim had asked her to dance and they were waltzing and…“Oh, yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

As Jim started to turn away she practically threw herself from the bed. Hopping on one foot, Delight tried to pull on a boot and in the process fell flat on her rump with a resounding thud. Looking back over his shoulder, Jim quirked an eyebrow as his mouth twisted into a mocking grin.

“I’m not in
that
big a hurry, Murphy.”

His words echoed cuttingly through her and Delight was glad when he closed the door behind him. Leaning back forlornly
against the side of her small bed, she fought the tears that threatened. Wouldn’t she ever be able to please the man?

Angry at Jim for his sarcastic comments, angry at herself for being so clumsy in his presence, and angry at life in general for the cruel twists of fate of these past days, she yanked on her boots and struggled into her coat. Stomping out of her room in a small display of bruised pride, she glared over in the direction of Jim’s desk, only to be jolted by the unexpected presence of Mark Clayton.

“I’ll be right back, Captain,” she muttered. Quickly looking away to hide her fright, she left the cabin.

“I would say your cabin boy doesn’t like to get up in the middle of the night,” Mark laughed after she had disappeared out the door.

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Jim chuckled. “But he’s a good worker.”

“Kind of young, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. But Ollie and I found him wandering the docks getting into all kinds of trouble.”

“He’s lucky you were the one who found him.”

Jim nodded, “I wonder where he’d be now if we hadn’t brought him back….”

“Probably dead,” Mark said seriously. “Young boys don’t last long down on the riverfront. It was bad before the war, but it’s worse now.”

“I’m sure he didn’t realize what really could have happened to him.” Jim finished off his drink and looked pointedly at the empty bottle sitting on his desk. With a grin, he added, “And he has no conception of what will happen to him now if he doesn’t get back here with that fresh bottle, and soon.”

Just as he spoke the door flew open and Delight rushed into the room, slamming the door behind her. She had pulled on her stocking cap to cover her hair and she hoped that the cold had reddened her cheeks and nose enough to help with her camouflage.

“Here you are, Captain.” She thrust the bottle at Jim, carefully keeping her face averted from Mark.

“Thank you, Murphy. You can go back to bed now.”

“Yes, sir.” She headed for the door to her room, tugging off her coat.

Jim watched her progress for a minute and a thought struck him. “Murphy?”

Delight halted, wondered what he could possibly want now. “Yes?”

“You look atrocious. Do you sleep in your clothes every night?”

She turned slowly to face him, anger and embarrassment warring within her. “Yes, sir. It’s cold.” Delight wanted to add “in case you didn’t notice,” but she held her tongue.

“You didn’t get a nightshirt while you were out.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, why not?” Jim sounded aggravated.

Delight had the urge to tell him why not in no uncertain terms, but again she held herself in restraint. Sounding like the humble servant boy she was supposed to be, she said calmly, “You said only to buy a change of clothes and a coat, sir, and I didn’t have any money of my own.”

Jim felt inexplicably irritated at Ollie’s lack of foresight. “Wait a minute.” Rising from his seat, he went to his trunk and pulled out one of his own nightshirts. “Here, wear this. It’s bound to be way too big, but at least you won’t look like you just climbed out of bed all day long.” He tossed the long flannel sleeping garment to her.

Delight deftly caught it, and, clutching it with two hands, thanked him solemnly. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Murphy.”

When the door between the rooms closed behind her, Mark looked at Jim and smiled. “I think Murphy has a bad case of hero worship.”

Jim looked startled. “Why?”

“Didn’t you see the look in his eyes?”

“No, I didn’t pay any attention.”

“He’s obviously very impressed with you, and, if I read him right, he’ll be devoted to you for the rest of your life.”

Jim gave Mark a strange look. “I like the boy. He’s honest and industrious, and I’m proud of the way he’s handling himself. I don’t think most youngsters would be able to handle everything that Murphy’s had to deal with.”

“Well, what ever,” Mark went on, changing the subject. “Tell me more about your engagement. We didn’t get a lot of time to talk the other day.”