Savannah Heat (21 page)

Morgan raked a hand through his hair, knowing further disagreement would do no good and beginning to resign himself. His breath came out on a sigh. “Jacques Bouillard can help find the mercenaries we need. We’ll be loaded and ready to sail on the morning tide.”

“How long do you anticipate before we reach Campeche?”

“Three weeks. If we’re lucky, maybe a little less.”

For the first time Buckland seemed unsure. “I just hope to God the men can hold out until we get there.”

Morgan sank back down in his chair.
You hear that, little brother? You damned well better hold out
.

Morgan thought of the long months after his breakup with Charlotte, of the two deplorable weeks he and Cookie had spent in a Barcelona prison for brawling in Santiago’s Cantina. The place had been a hellhole. From what Buckland said, allowing time for the news to arrive, Morgan figured Brendan might have already spent months in the same sort of prison. Brendan was tough, Morgan knew, but a place like that had a way of breaking a man.

Morgan cursed beneath his breath. He would push his men and his ship as hard as he dared, get there as fast as wind and God allowed. Then he’d find a way to get in there and get those men out—one way or another.

He just prayed Brendan would still be alive when he did.

“Good-bye, Major.” Silver smiled into his handsome face.

“Good-bye, Silver. Take care of yourself and remember your promise.”

“I know you’ll get him out.” Morgan had told her of Brendan’s capture and the urgency of their mission, figuring she already knew most of it anyway. Silver rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

They were standing on the dock beside the ship amid the hustle and bustle around them. Ship’s rigging clattered and clanked, and sea gulls swooped
and screeched and sailed high on the wind. Morgan had said his good-byes to Lydia back at the house, though her response had been less than cordial. Silver had insisted on returning with him to the wharf. Morgan agreed, but only because one of Owen Moore’s men was waiting in the carriage to return her home.

“How soon before you sail?” Silver asked.

“Less than an hour. We’re just about ready.”

“Then I guess I’d better be going.”

“Yes,” he said, but neither of them moved.

“I’m going to miss you, Morgan Trask.” His eyes looked as green as the gem-bright Caribbean Sea.

Morgan cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly across her jaw. She felt the feather-soft caress like the brush of wings, and liquid heat curled in her stomach. Then he did the unthinkable. In front of God and the dozens of people who lined the quay, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her, his mouth moving over her so hot and hard Silver’s knees went weak. When he finally let her go, she had to steady herself against him to keep from falling.

Morgan smiled roguishly. “We’ll talk some more when I get back.”

Silver only nodded and watched him walk away, shoulders squared as he strode the wooden dock. Turning, she started toward the man who waited discreetly in the open carriage.

“I’m ready,” she said when she got there, climbing in without waiting for his help.

It took only minutes to reach the house on Chelsea Road, but every second was precious. Silver said a quick good-bye to her protector, assured him she wouldn’t be leaving the house again that day, and hurried up to her room. Once there, grateful some
insane instinct had convinced her to bring them along, she changed into Jordy’s shirt and breeches.

In preparation for her extended stay, the rest of her clothes had been sent to the house. Silver took as much of her things as she could carry, though the satchels weighed her down, but she didn’t intend to lug them that far. Jacques would be waiting at the corner.

How she’d been able to convince him to help her remained a mystery. Mostly she had dwelled on his concern for her safety, convincing him that no one but he or the major could possibly be man enough to protect her from the scurvy fellows who had surely seen the reward posters.

Whether he had his own reasons for helping her she couldn’t be sure, but there had been an unaccountable twinkling in his eyes.

Just as he’d promised, Jacques waited patiently at the end of the block, looking as tall and solid as an oak tree. Eyeing Jordy’s form-fitting clothes, he handed her a dark blue sailor’s cap, beneath which she quickly stuffed her hair. Even as he hefted her heavy leather bags and strode toward the quay, he seemed to be smiling in a way that was far too smug for Silver’s taste, but she certainly didn’t say so.

“I will keep him distracted while you come aboard,” Jacques promised. “You must stay out of sight in the hold at least for the next few days. I do not think Morgan would return you, but it is better to be safe. I will bring you blankets and food.”

“Thank you, Jacques. I’ll feel a whole lot safer being there with the two of you.”

“That,
chérie
, is what the sheep said to the wolf.”

True to his word, Jacques boarded first, hid her satchels, and went to find Morgan, signaling her to board while he was gone. Silver kept her head down
and climbed the rail. There was more activity aboard ship this time, more men in uniform, as well as the scurvy-looking lot who were the soldiers of fortune Jacques had hired.

With more men to feed, a pigsty sat on deck alongside several crates of chickens. All and all, it was a chaotic scene that made her movements on deck easier. Silver hurried across the holystoned pine, going straight to the ladder that led down into the hold. It was dark and dank in the low-ceilinged room and smelled of bilge water. Silver heard a shuffling sound in the corner and shivered, knowing it had to be rats.

Finding a likely place to hide beside a stack of Well-secured gun crates, Silver made herself as comfortable as she could on the cold wooden planks of the hull between the ship’s ribs. It wasn’t long before she felt the deck heel, heard the creak and moan of timbers as the ship sailed from the harbor.

How long should she stay hidden? she wondered, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be too long. What would Morgan do when she appeared on deck?

Morgan was just as stubborn as she was, just as willful, just as determined. But for reasons she couldn’t completely explain, she trusted him. Though he’d often had reason, Morgan had never hurt her. She didn’t believe he ever would.

She amended that. When he found her aboard this ship, he was bound to go a little bit crazy. She wasn’t about to tell him Jacques had helped her. After all that Jacques had done, it would hardly be fair. Silver cringed just to think of her encounter with the major. God, he’d be madder than one of those mean-tempered fighting gamecocks.

Early in the evening, Jacques brought Silver the
blankets and food he had promised, as well as a small whale-oil lamp. He didn’t stay long; he had his own work to do, and he didn’t want anyone coming down to look for him. With little to occupy her time, Silver napped for a while, but mostly she fidgeted, certain one of the furry creatures that squeaked nearby would sneak up on her if she weren’t looking.

God, she hated them.

Silver shifted on the blanket she had spread beneath her, a bit of insulation from the dankness of the hull. The place smelled of wet timber, tar, and mold, but she’d already grown used to it. Besides, if things worked out, the inconvenience would be worth it. The thought renewing her spirits, she finally fell asleep just before morning, though in the darkness of the hold, night never turned into day.

Jacques returned again some hours later, carrying more food and the latest copy of the
Barbados Advocate
, since she’d told him she desperately needed something to read. Once he was gone, the newspaper occupied her for a while, but the lamplight was so dim it was difficult to see the small black newsprint. Silver fidgeted, paced the confining space of the hull, and grudgingly endured her dank, close quarters. It was dark outside, she was sure, but out of boredom she had slept again during the day, and now she wasn’t sleepy.

Silver rubbed the ache in her neck and changed her position on the floor of the hold, propping her back up against a stack of wooden crates. In the distance she heard footfalls ringing on the ladder; then a lantern lit the far end of the cavernous room. Sure it was Jacques, Silver wasn’t worried.

She should have been.

The footfalls grew louder, and a man’s tall shadow loomed on the hull of the ship, gigantic in the glow
of the approaching yellow light. Silver watched the shadow draw near, watched it take shape and form, and knew in an instant the perfect V-shaped figure wasn’t Jacques.

“What the—” Rounding the crates, Morgan held the lantern high and stared down at Silver in stunned disbelief. His jaw clamped tight as he set the brass lamp on top of the wooden boxes and glared at her, his green eyes glittering with rage.

Silver swallowed hard. “Good … evening, Major.”

Morgan’s hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, jerking her roughly to her feet. “What the bloody hell are you doing here? How did you get aboard?” His fingers gripped the tops of her arms until she winced.

“I sneaked aboard when you were busy.”

“Why?”

Silver stiffened in his grip. “If you think I was going to sit around holding lengthy conversations with your mistress for the next two months, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Is that so? Well, if you think I’m taking you with me,
you’ve
got another think coming!”

“What are you going to do, turn the ship around and take me back?”

“Exactly.” Picking up the lantern, he dragged her toward the stairs, her stumbling footfalls echoing in the confines of the hold. “And when I find out who helped you, he’s going to find himself dumped back on that island with you.”

“What about your brother?” Silver prodded. “Every day you spend sailing back increases the risk to his life.”

Morgan stopped short at those words and turned to face her, his expression thunderous. “You planned
this from the moment I told you I was leaving, didn’t you?”

“Yes—I mean, no. It occurred to me then, but I wasn’t sure until I had time to think things over. Under the circumstances, this seemed the only logical thing to do.”

“Logical? What in God’s name is logical about a young woman stowing aboard a ship full of soldiers on a dangerous mission to Mexico? This isn’t some kind of game, Silver. There’s a war going on down there.”

I’m fighting a war of my own
, she thought.
I always have been
. “I won’t be in your way, I promise. When we dock, I’ll stay with the ship. Maybe I can even find a way to help out.”

“Damn you, Silver.”

“Morgan, please. This won’t be as bad as you think.”

His green eyes raked her, assessing every curve of her body in Jordy’s faded clothes. Though he looked furious, the tension in his face had begun to ease. “I hope to hell you brought something else to wear.”

Silver grinned, unable to believe she was getting off so easy. “I did.”

“I must be crazy,” he muttered, beginning to believe he really was. For in truth he was damned glad to see her. On top of his fears for his brother, Morgan had been worried about Silver since the minute he had left her at the dock.

He was worried about that damnable reward money William had offered. Afraid some dockside thug would recognize her and take it into his head to abduct her, just as Pinkard had done. Worried that once the man got her alone, her tender charms would outweigh any thoughts of reward.

He was also afraid she might run away, put herself
in even graver peril. She’d given him her word, but he wasn’t sure she would keep it. If she tried to escape, Moore’s men would be hard pressed to stop her; he knew that first hand. He still didn’t trust her—he wasn’t even completely convinced she hadn’t fled Katonga to meet her lover, as Pinkard had said.

Morgan glanced down and found her smiling up at him, her pale hair glistening in the lamplight. She looked so appealing in her damnable boy’s clothes—outrageous and desirable, as only Silver could. At least this way he could watch out for her. Of course the ship was more crowded now, and there were nearly a dozen mercenaries sleeping on the deck. Morgan shuddered to think of them eyeing Silver’s luscious behind.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Over in the corner.”

“Do us both a favor and put on something a little less revealing.” He thought of Colonel Buckland. What would Buckland say to a woman coming along? Morgan cursed roundly. “I’m warning you, Silver, you had better behave. And if I find out Jordy’s behind this, you can bet he’s going to get far worse than he got from me the last time.”

“Jordy doesn’t know anything about this.”

Morgan sighed. “Sometimes I think you are bound and determined to make my life a living hell.”

Silver just smiled. “You’re wrong, Major.” In fact, if she had her way, she hoped things might turn out just the opposite.

Refusing to accept Morgan’s cabin, Silver settled herself once more in Jordy’s. She shook out her dresses and hung them up, and by morning the dampness had eased away the wrinkles. With Morgan on the opposite side of the door just a few feet away, Silver slept soundly. She felt safe and protected,
and now she had the time she would need. Things would work out, she told herself firmly. Everything would happen in its proper time.

Then she met Colonel Buckland, and as the poet Burns once said, “The best laid schemes o’ mice and men.…”

From the moment of their first encounter, Buckland was enthralled with Silver. Morgan explained her presence by telling him about the reward posters and the threat of danger Silver faced.

“She made a mistake by running away from home,” Morgan told him, casting Silver a hard green glance that warned her she had better play along. “But she knows that now. Unfortunately, with those posters around, she was afraid for her safety.” Silver’s mouth twitched. “She felt she needed our protection, so she stowed aboard. I’m sure she’ll be no trouble,” he finished with a last pointed glance.

Seated beside Buckland at the round oak table in the salon, Silver smiled sweetly. “I really meant no harm, Colonel. Major Trask promised my safe return to Katonga. I merely thought coming with him would be the best way to ensure that. Now that I’ve met you, I feel even safer. I hope you don’t mind.”