Renegade (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“What are you thinking about?”

Once more, Mac hadn’t let Becks help row back towards the
Polaris
, so she was sitting on her now-usual stern thwart, braiding her wet hair and staring off at the distant line of pines, rising above the marsh.

Not sure if she should really admit to what she was thinking, she smiled slightly, and didn’t meet his eyes. She tried for a breezy tone. “Oh, this and that.”

“Anything to do with how we spent the afternoon?”

Her smile deepened at the way his voice sent goosepimples down her legs, and she
knew
she was blushing when she met his eyes. “Maybe.”

“It’s understandable.” He pulled strongly on the oars, although the tide had turned when they were on the beach, and he had little to do besides steer the dinghy. “I’m thinking about going back and buying that beach, just so I can go sit there and remember today fondly.” His silly claim made her smile fade slightly. “And that way, we’d always have a little bit of privacy…”

Always
. There wasn’t going to be an
always
for them. They had
now
and only
now
. Once he left, that would be the end of whatever they had. Becks couldn’t let herself consider anything longer-term. Her heart was too at risk as it was. She had to know that they had only today, and maybe tomorrow… or she’d let herself fall in love.

But he was still waiting on a response. “I was thinking that today has been the best day of my life.”

That one sexy brow rose to reveal his dimple, and she had to look away. “Really? The
best
day?”

His tone was teasing, but she nodded solemnly, squeezing the last of the water from her braid. “Yes. I’ve learned so much. You’ve
taught
me so much.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “Oh? Like what?”

She shrugged, looking back at the pines. “Things about my body. Things about being free.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, and then he cleared his throat slightly. “We make a good team, Becks.”

She couldn’t bring herself to agree. It would be like admitting they had a future, and that would be too cruel. For now, for today, she could only focus on what they
did
have, and what he could teach her.

She was already planning how to lure him into her bedroom that night when he
ahoy’d
the ship and then hoisted her aboard.

It was late afternoon, and Jeff had obviously quit work to read; he was stretched out on the foredeck, already a third of the way through
Great Expectations.
The younger man merely waved, but Ironto handed his loops of rope to a grinning Robert, and made her a sweeping bow when he welcomed her back onboard.

“And may I say, Mistress Middleton, that you look beautifully sun-kissed?”

Becks hid her smile and curtsied formally, and the older man laughed knowingly.

Despite hers and Mac’s best efforts, Ironto refused to return to Beckett with them for the evening meal. He claimed that someone onboard needed to be alert, and since “the puppy”—as he called Jeff—had his nose buried in a book most hours, the responsibility was left to him.

Jeff, for his part, pulled a face when she invited him. “No thanks, ma’am. Making small talk and being polite doesn’t sound nearly as inviting as finishing this book before tomorrow.”

Mac folded his arms and glared at the young man. “Just remember to turn down the lamp this time, and don’t burn down my ship.” Jeff grinned cockily.

“How about you, Robert?”

The big black man stared at her for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was just a rumble down in his chest. “Will Pearl be there?”

His face was expressionless, so Becks couldn’t tell why he wanted to know. Did he want to see her sister again? Or was he still hurt by Pearl’s attitude towards him and his friend? So she matched him when she said merely “Yes, probably.”

Robert glanced once at Mac over by the main mast, and then looked back to her. She got the impression that he wasn’t really seeing her. Finally he nodded. “All right then.”

She exhaled, not realizing that she’d been holding her breath. Part of her wanted to tell him to stay away, for everyone’s sakes. Pearl had taken a disliking to the dark man, and she didn’t want to see her sister angry. But at the same time, it was disappointing to know that Pearl couldn’t see the good in him.

Robert was content to sit in the bow on the way back to Beckett, since Mac didn’t need his help rowing. But the two of them kept her amused all the way home with stories of narrow scrapes and adventures they’d shared. The way they teased each other would’ve told her that they were longtime friends, even if she hadn’t known.

But their fun ended when they tied up at the Beckett dock. She was still smiling from the wink Mac had given her when he’d pulled her up onto the weathered planks when she noticed Thomas hurrying towards them from the stables. She pulled away from Mac when she saw the look on the wiry black man’s face.

“What’s wrong, Thomas? Is it Seelay again? The other children?” Lord knew that she was no doctor, but her mother had some skill, and they could always send for a surgeon if needed.

But Thomas just shook his head. “No, Miss Becks.” His eyes flicked to Mac, and then towards Robert, who was impassively checking the knots on the cleats. “You got a visitor.”

She could tell from the way he hesitated that this wasn’t good news. “What kind of visitor?” Then she saw the pitying look in his eyes and sighed. “Oh Lord, it’s Creel, isn’t it? He’s back again?”

“Sho’ ‘nuff. I’ve got that feisty chestnut in his usual stall.” Creel used his whip on his stallion, and it was no secret what Thomas felt about men like that.

Mac moved up beside her. “Creel’s come back?” He wasn’t asking her, but Thomas. “How often does he visit?”

Thomas shrugged. “Sometimes twice a week.”

Mac raised a brow in her direction. “He’s sure made himself comfortable, hasn’t he?”

Becks just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. So much for a lovely evening with Mac. Major Creel’s return meant that they were in for a painfully formal dinner. Hopefully Lola had enough food on hand; Becks felt a stab of guilt for not being here to help the cook prepare.

Mac sent Robert a look she couldn’t interpret, and then offered Thomas his hand. The black man took it, surprised.

“Thanks for warning us, Thomas.”

The other man nodded once, still a little unsure. “No problem, Mr. Baird.”

“Call me Mac.” Another nod, slower, and Becks almost smiled at how easily Mac had won the friendship of the Beckett people. Had it only been that morning that Pearl told her Moses and Zeb approved of him? It seemed like he’d been part of her life—of Beckett life—for years.

When they turned towards the house, she saw Mac and Robert share a significant glance, and wondered what they were telling the other. Undoubtedly something related to their illicit activities. She hoped their long-standing partnership meant that they would be able to work together to bamboozle Creel. As much as she disliked his smuggling, and the danger it brought to Beckett, she didn’t wish Mac to fail. She respected his zeal and understood his actions and knew that he deserved to succeed even if he went about it a little unorthodoxly. Besides, Mac failing would mean that Creel had won, and she definitely didn’t want that.

The Major hadn’t gotten any less oily in the week since she’d seen him last. Had it only been a week? Had Mac really only been in her life such a short time? She knew she should feel ashamed of the way she’d thrown herself at a man she barely knew, but she just didn’t. Remembering her conversation with Pearl on the night they’d met Mac and Robert, Becks wondered if she
was
a hussy.

Despite the look of irritation her sister shot her when they entered the dining room, Becks was relieved to be so late. Her mother, Pearl, and the Major were just about to sit down for dinner, and that meant that Becks and the men had fortunately missed all of the pre-meal awkward small talk. Thank goodness she’d taken the time to stop at her room and change into a more formal dress while Mac was tidying up as well. Of course, she
did
feel guilty for leaving her sister in the same room as Creel without any support, knowing the Major’s disdain for being forced to talk with “that Negress,” but breathed a sigh of relieve that Creel and Mac had been kept apart a bit longer.

“Welcome back, Rebecca Beckett. We set a place for y’all, but weren’t sure if you’d make it home in time.”

“Hello, Mother.” She sent a tight smile towards Eugenia and managed to share a commiserating look with Pearl, whose lips had tightened even further when she’d seen Robert follow Mac into the room. “Thank you for waiting.”

Eugenia waved airily, and pulled out her chair to seat herself. “We didn’t. You arrived right on time.”

Creel oiled his way around the table to where Becks was about to take her usual seat. Luckily, she was able to keep her expression neutral when he bowed elegantly over her hand. “Miss Becks, you get lovelier every time I see you.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken, Major Creel.” She heard Pearl suck in a breath at her rudeness, but Becks just smiled vaguely. “I’m sunburned and my hair is still wet.” She shifted slightly, still feeling the sand stuck to her back, and wondered if Mac was just as uncomfortable. She didn’t dare risk a peek in his direction.

Creel’s smile had frozen. “And where have you been that’s made you so late today? I admit I was disappointed to not find you here when I arrived.”

She bristled and heard Mac exhale softly beside her. “I hardly think that’s any of your concern, Major.” Her tone was sharp enough that it might have earned her a rebuke from her mother… had Eugenia considered Creel to be as much as a nuisance as Becks did. From the corner of her eye, she watched Robert hold Pearl’s chair for her, and saw her sister’s surprised expression as she sat.

“Still, Miss Becks, I insist on an answer.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was he insisting because he thought he had a right to know? Or was this a more
official
line of questioning?

She didn’t have to worry, because Mac decided to he was done being ignored. He cleared his throat. “Becks was with me. I offered to show her my ship, and the time… got away from us.” She managed not to blush or smile or reveal anything that might lead Creel to think there was more to that significant pause.

The Major finally turned his attention to Mac. It was clear they remembered each other, from the tension crackling in the air between them. “So that hulk moored downriver is yours? The
Polaris
?”

He was obviously trying to prove how much he knew about what went on around Edisto, but Mac just grinned tightly. “She’s no hulk, Major. She’s the pride of Baird Shipping.” Then, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, he offered his hand. “Mac Baird, owner.”

Creel scowled, causing his thick mustaches to droop comically, and took Mac’s hand. They stood there a few moments longer than necessary, before Creel nodded. “I see you’re still making free use of Beckett land, Mr. Baird.”

“As are you, Major.”

Creel’s eyes narrowed, and Becks wanted to warn Mac against irritating the man. He was oily and offensive, sure, but he also represented the United States Army, the law. It had taken twelve years for the south—Edisto in particular—to get used to the rule of men like him, and she didn’t need Mac upsetting the delicate balance. Beckett would suffer, and he’d brought enough to worry about already.

She shot Mac a cautionary look and allowed the Major to hold her chair out for her. Even she could see that Creel was preening when he finally took his seat across from her, but Mac was grinning just slightly, like there’d been a joke no one else had understood.

While Eugenia sometimes appeared completely oblivious to social cues, it was more that she just didn’t care to dance to everyone else’s tune. She obviously understood the tension at the table and made small talk throughout the meal, usually with as much grace and tact as a battering ram. Still, by the time the dishes of roast rabbit and turnip greens were almost empty, she’d done a good job of putting everyone if not at their ease, then a little easier.