Savannah Heat (27 page)

But then Silver had always been a quick study.

Try as he might to fight it, the image of her high, round breasts and slender hips rose before him. He could almost feel the silky texture of her skin beneath his palms. The thought of Silver with Buckland, of the colonel’s thick hands moving over her body, made Morgan’s stomach churn.

To hell with women
, he silently swore, vowing he would never get involved with another. He should have learned his lesson the first time, should have known Salena was no different from the rest.

At least he’d found out the truth—before he had fallen in love.

“All right, where the hell is it?”

Silver paused just outside her cabin door. “Where the hell is what, Major?”

“Pinkard’s reward money—the two thousand dollars in gold. It was in the bottom of my sea chest.”

Silver’s chin came up. “You think I stole your money?” Morgan didn’t miss the flicker of hurt that crossed her face, the wounded look in her dark brown eyes. “Your opinion of me must be even lower than I thought.”

Morgan released a weary breath and forced himself not to glance away. “You and Jordy are the only ones who have access to this room.”

“If you’re so sure I took it, why don’t you just clamp me in irons and be done with it?”

Morgan fought a smile, sure by now that his instincts had been correct and Silver wasn’t involved. He was also thinking, if she weren’t such a vixen, he wouldn’t mind clamping her in irons—and chaining her to his bed.

Silver turned to leave. “If you’re through with your little inquisition, Major, I’m going up on deck.
If you care to hear the truth, I didn’t take Pinkard’s damnable blood money.”

She tried to brush past, but Morgan caught her arm. “I know.”

“You know?”

Morgan smiled at her look of astonishment. “I never really thought you did, but in truth I almost wished it had been you.”

Silver’s hand tightened on his forearm, her fingers biting into the muscles beneath his skin. “Surely you’re not thinking Jordy took it.”

“I’m afraid I am.”

“But he wouldn’t do a thing like that, and even if he did, he’s just a boy.”

When Morgan said nothing more, Silver released her hold and backed away.

“I apologize, Silver,” Morgan said. “I shouldn’t have accused you that way. But I—”

“It’s all right, Major. Jordy means a great deal to me, too.”

Morgan watched her a moment more, reading the concern that darkened her pretty face. Turning, he walked to his desk, where his ship’s log lay open and a quill pen rested in the inkwell nearby.

“Be careful, Morgan,” Silver said softly from the open cabin door. “If you accuse Jordy unjustly, he won’t be as forgiving as I.”

Morgan watched her leave, regretting the way he had handled things. In fact, he regretted having accepted the damnable money in the first place. But in his haste to get Silver off Katonga, he’d forgotten all about it. When it came to Salena, it seemed he had a hard time thinking clearly, had since the moment she’d come spitting and fighting into his life.

He smiled at that, thinking what a little hellcat she could be. She was different from other women. Bold,
fiery, determined—more full of life and passion than any woman he had ever met.

Morgan’s smile faded. Silver was different—and yet she was not. He’d found her with Buckland, hadn’t he? Just as he should have expected. At least she hadn’t taken the money—which meant most likely Jordy had.

With that disquieting thought, Morgan sat down at his carved oak desk, picked up his white plumed pen, and dipped it into the inkwell. Glancing down at the unfinished entry he had made, he scrolled in a few more words about the weather and the ship’s position, his projected arrival in Campeche near the end of the week, then jammed the pen back into its holder.

Putting off the problem of the theft wouldn’t make it go away.

Morgan shoved back his oak chair and came to his feet. He’d have Jacques and Riley search the men’s gear. There was always the chance someone had slipped into his quarters unseen. But nothing was out of place except the missing reward money. How the devil would one of the men know where it was?

It didn’t look good for Jordy, yet Morgan prayed the boy had not done the deed. The others thought of Jordan Little as a man; they’d expect his punishment to be equal to that of any other man in the crew.

The first round of searching—the bunks and lockers, the gear stowed in the hammocks of the men in the forecastle—turned up nothing. By now every man aboard knew about the stolen money; they were edgy and grumbling, and speculating among themselves about who might be the guilty man.

Morgan figured the thief hadn’t counted on the missing gold’s being discovered so quickly. They’d be in Mexico soon. Whoever had taken it must have
meant to leave the ship when they reached Campeche.

Unless Jordy took it, hoping the loss wouldn’t be discovered until they returned to Savannah. Then the blame could be laid on one of the mercenaries or one of the Texas Marines.

Jacques searched the men on the quarterdeck while Hamilton Riley searched men and equipment near the aft, where Jordy’s bedroll was stored. With a growing amount of dread, Morgan watched Riley at his task, saw the grim, disgruntled faces of the men gathered on the deck around him. When Ham reached Jordy’s gear, he stopped, his hand deep in the folds of Jordy’s bedroll. When he brought his hand back out, his fingers clutched the leather pouch that had once housed the gold—only the pouch was empty.

Damn! Morgan set his jaw and moved forward with grim resolve. From the corner of his vision he saw Silver, her eyes dark with worry, her hand poised nervously near the base of her throat.

Jordy stood beside his bedroll, staring at Ham as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Morgan took the pouch from the lieutenant’s outstretched hand.

“How do you explain this, Master Little?” Morgan asked, holding aloft the condemning bit of leather.

Jordy’s eyes looked like two hazel moons. “I didn’t do it, Cap’n. I swear it.” By now the men who milled the deck were beginning to whisper and point in Jordy’s direction.

“Then how did this get in your bedroll?”

Jordy glanced up at Morgan, his look beseeching. His eyes slid toward the men in the crew, men he worked with, men he respected. Until this moment they had respected him, too.

Something shifted in Jordy’s expression, a subtle closing up. “I ain’t—I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Morgan repeated. “But you
are
sure you didn’t steal the money.”

“I didn’t take it,” Jordy repeated.

Morgan watched his changing expression, the uncertainty mixed with fear. “But you know who did.”

Jordy’s jaw clamped. He glanced to Cookie, standing a few feet away, his bushy gray brows drawn together in a worried frown. Jordy said nothing.

“Would you excuse us a moment, Lieutenant?”

“Of course, Major.” Ham stepped away, toward the line of men who watched with grim fascination. Some of them looked relieved; others looked disapproving; still others betrayed concern for their friend.

Morgan spoke to Jordy so the men couldn’t hear. “Listen to me, son. I know you think you’re doing what’s expected of you, that not telling who else is involved in this is the manly thing to do, but—”

“I didn’t take your gold, Cap’n.”

“Damn it, Jordy, it isn’t just the money. If you know who did it, that makes you as guilty as they are. Tell me the man’s name.”

Jordy said nothing.

Morgan took in the set of the young man’s jaw, the resignation, and knew no amount of coercion could change the boy’s mind. In a way he admired him. Under the same circumstances, Morgan would probably have done the same.

“You know what I have to do,” Morgan said.

Jordy stepped back, his shoulders squared. “Aye, Cap’n.”

“You men, gather round!” Morgan called out, and the cluster of men on deck closed in. “You all know what’s going on here. There is two thousand dollars
in gold missing from my cabin. The money has not been found, but apparently Master Little is somehow involved. Since he has refused to cooperate by giving up the name of the man we seek, he will receive the punishment instead.”

The men murmured among themselves, and the blood seemed to drain from Jordy’s face.

“The punishment for thievery is set. The man shall hug the cannon. Two dozen lashes, no more no less.” Jordy seemed to sway on his feet; his hand gripped the mast to steady himself. Morgan started to continue but stopped when he caught the blur of yellow skirts racing in his direction.

Bloody hell!

“Morgan, you can’t!” Silver pushed her way to his side, her dark eyes wide with fear. She insinuated herself between him and Jordy, as if her presence could somehow protect him.

“Damn it, Silver, stay out of this.”

“He’s only a boy, Major. Two dozen lashes. It’s—it’s barbaric! Surely even you can’t be that cruel.”

Morgan worked a muscle in his jaw, her barb smarting more than it should have. With a firm grip on her arm, he led her some distance away. “Listen to me, Silver. Jordy has to pay for what he’s done. He’s got to be punished.”

“I’ll pay it back for him. I’ll find a way—just give me a little time.”

Morgan arched a brow. “You would work off two thousand dollars in gold for a cabin boy you hardly know?”

“Jordy is my friend. What few I have mean a great deal to me.”

“Where would you get that kind of money?” Morgan pressed, knowing he shouldn’t but unable to stop himself.

Silver lifted her chin. “I’ll think of something. I can do it, Major. I know I can.”

Morgan surveyed her look of sincerity, and one corner of his mouth curved up. “I don’t doubt it for a moment. But I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Please, just—”

“Let me handle this, Silver.”

“But he’s only thirteen!”

“You said once before that you trusted me.”

Some of her tension seemed to ease. “I used to.”

Morgan bristled a bit but let the words pass. “Stay here,” he commanded, and for once she obeyed.

Morgan returned to Jordy and the crew. “Master Little has stated his innocence, and I believe him. But he refuses to name the perpetrator. Though he is doing what he feels he must, that doesn’t change things.”

Morgan heard Silver’s intake of breath and prayed she wouldn’t interfere. Flashing her a hard warning glance, he noticed her hands trembled so badly she had to hide them in the folds of her skirt, and her eyes had grown nearly as big as Jordy’s.

“To most of you, Jordan Little is a man,” he continued. “On board a ship there’s only a fine line between boyhood and manhood, but it’s a line just the same.” He fixed his gaze on Jordy, who seemed rooted to the spot. “Jordan Little, you will work double shifts for the balance of this voyage. You’ll do every dirty job Cookie or Jacques can dream up, and you’ll do it with a smile and a thank-you.”

Jordy’s look of relief was so poignant something moved in Morgan’s chest.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Jordy said softly.

“Do you men have any problem with this?” Morgan asked the members of the crew.

“No, sir,” came the muttered response, also with a
sense of relief. The men liked Jordan Little, and they believed him. They’d be looking for the man or men who had caused Jordy trouble. The real culprit might just turn up yet.

“That’s all, gentlemen.” Sailors, mercenaries, and marines all walked quietly away.

Jordy said something to Silver, who hugged him before he could stop her, and he flashed her a grateful smile. Jacques pointed toward Cookie, who pointed toward the galley, and Jordy moved off in that direction.

“Thank you, Major.” Silver approached with a wide, soft smile.

“Surprised?”

“A little.”

“I guess we’ve both received our share of surprises.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning your concern for Jordy was also a surprise.”

“If you took the time, Major, you might discover a few more.”

“Such as?”

“For starters, you might find out I’m not really the hardhearted creature you believe me to be.”

Morgan glanced from Silver to Constantine Buckland, who appeared to be waiting for her at the rail. “Now that would be a surprise.” With that he turned and stalked away.

Silver felt a hard lump swell in her throat. The man was a heartless monster, yet he held a power over her she could not explain. Determined to ignore the tears so close to the surface, Silver set her jaw. For days she had hoped he would search inside himself and see the truth—or at least let her explain.

Instead he remained determined to believe the
worst. Nothing she could do or say would change things. Summoning her anger to force out the hurt, Silver cursed Morgan roundly, calling him every vile name she could dream up. He wasn’t worth the trouble he caused her, wasn’t worth a moment of concern.

He certainly wasn’t worth loving.

There and then Silver made up her mind. She would forget Morgan Trask. Once she had loved her father; now she knew better. Trask was no different after all. Trask was only a man.

That night Silver dressed for supper with care. She would show Morgan Trask he meant nothing. She was tired of being nice to him, tired of hoping he would see reason or seek her out for comfort, if only in his bed.