The Raider (6 page)

“I can't do nothin'. Eleanor gave me the baby to take care of. He can't even climb a tree.” The boy's lip stuck out several inches.

Sayer frowned in thought a moment. “Look in that drawer yonder and bring me that ball of string and that brass ring and my knife. When my boys were babies and Lily was young and sailed with me, I knotted her a bag to tie the babies onto her back. We'll see if we can make a carrier for Samuel. Think you can climb a tree with that hefty young 'un on your back?”

“I could climb to the stars,” Nathaniel said. “You got any peppermint? It keeps him quiet.”

“You find out who this Raider is and I'll buy you a barrelful of peppermint.”

“Sam likes peppermint, not me,” Nate said, his jaw set in a line that looked remarkably like his sister's.

“And what does Nathaniel like?” Sayer asked as he began to knot lengths of heavy string onto a brass ring.

“My own dory so I can catch and sell fish.”

Sayer smiled. “All right. And we'll name it
The Raider.
Now hold this end. Sam, go look in that box and see what you find.”

Nathaniel and Sayer smiled at each other.

*   *   *

Jessica wiped away tears with the back of her sleeve and started walking through the woods toward the Taggert house.

She gasped when John Pitman stepped out of the trees. Usually, he was perfectly dressed, never a button undone, as if he wanted to show the Americans how to dress. But tonight he was dishevelled, his coat gone, his waistcoat unbuttoned. And his eyes were wild and he smelled of rum.

“Mistress Jessica,” he said in a slurred voice, “the only other person to turn him down.”

Jessica had never been too close to the customs officer and didn't want to be now. She gave him a weak smile and tried to get by him. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with this drunken man who was used to having his own way.

“Ah, Mistress Jessica,” Pitman said softly, blocking her way and looking at the ties on her shirt. “Have you dried by now? Has his hated memory gone from you?”

She took a step backward. “You came out here and got drunk because of this glory-seeking villain, this Raider?” She was incredulous.

He moved closer to her. “Can't you see the hour? What would a man with a warm and pretty wife waiting at home be doing in the woods with a bottle at this hour? I come here every night.” He moved so he was almost touching her, then took the string that tied her blouse shut in his hand. “I come here and dream of you Mistress Jessica, of Jessica with the saucy hips, of Jessica—”

With eyes wide, Jess pushed him and began to run. He was so drunk that it took him a moment to regain his balance and by then Jessica was gone. She ran through the woods, staying off any path, until she reached the Taggert house and slammed the door. She dropped the oak board that bolted the door.

Eleanor came into the room wearing her nightgown and cap. “Where have you been?” she asked. “We were worried about you.”

When Jessica didn't answer, Eleanor put her arms around her sister. “You've had a rough day, haven't you? I heard about what happened earlier.”

Jess didn't want to remember the Raider, or the wash tub, or drunken John Pitman's hands on her. “Go back to bed,” she said to Eleanor. “I'm going to wash some of the filth off of me then I'll be there.”

Eleanor nodded sleepily and padded back to bed.

After a sponge bath throughout which she cursed all men everywhere, Jess climbed the ladder to the loft. All the Taggerts were in one bed, the taller ones heading north, the smaller ones with their heads pointing south. She tucked the quilt around them more securely and kissed the nearest heads.

Nathaniel lifted himself on one elbow. “Why were you running?”

The child never missed anything. “I may tell you tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”

Nate lay back down between two brothers. “I'll find him for you, Jess. I'll find the Raider and you can hang him.”

Jess smiled at the thought. “I'll use Mrs. Coffin's clothesline for the noose. Now go to sleep.” She was still smiling as she climbed into bed with baby Samuel and Eleanor.

*   *   *

Jessica slammed her shovel into the rocky beach, grabbed a clam, then threw it at the basket.

“They aren't your enemy, you know.”

She looked up to see Alexander Montgomery standing there, the yellow silk of his coat flashing in the sunlight.

“Have you come to laugh at me, too?” She glared at him with great hostility. “This morning wasn't enough for all of you? You have to sneak up on me so you can
privately
laugh at me?” She pulled another clam from its hiding place in the sand. She'd done her best to survive the morning but it hadn't been easy. As soon as she walked into the common room at the Montgomery house, everyone had doubled over with laughter. The men were a storehouse of wash day jokes, with Mr. Coffin laughing the loudest.

A sleepy-looking Alexander had come into the room and they'd all rushed to tell him of the fabulous exploits of this courageous hero, this Raider. According to the townsmen, the Raider was extremely tall (over six feet), handsome (“he certainly made little Abigail Wentworth swoon”) and an excellent swordsman. Jessica could, of course, have kept her mouth shut, but she couldn't resist pointing out the fact that the Raider had never so much as drawn his sword, much less demonstrated his skill with it. That had returned their attention to her. They had said she didn't appreciate the fact that this man was risking his life to help others.

Jessica had grabbed the basket and shovel Eleanor used for digging clams and run to her private beach. Now Alexander had come here to ruin her solitude.

“I don't need you to laugh at me,” she said, hands on hips.

Alex sat down on a tree that had fallen across the beach. “I didn't come to laugh. I just wanted to say I don't think you deserved what happened to you yesterday. I think the Raider was wrong.”

Jessica kept glaring for a moment, then closed her mouth and attacked another clam hole. “You came down here and risked getting your pretty clothes dirty to tell me that? Why? What do you want from me? Twenty-five percent of what
I
earn?”

Alex's voice was very calm when he answered. “I know what it's like to have the whole town laugh at you for something you can't help.”

Jess looked at him and remembered all too well how she'd made the town laugh at him when he'd returned to Warbrooke. Her cheeks flushed red and she dug for another clam. “I'm sorry about that. Maybe I was a little too zealous. But everyone said that one of the Montgomery boys was going to come back and fix everything. I thought it was a ridiculous idea and when I saw you—” She stopped as she looked at his face. “I'm sorry I laughed.”

She continued digging clams but without as much anger.

“Do you
really
like my tailor?” Alex asked. “I could have him run something up for you. Maybe something in blue to go with your hair.”

Jess started to make a sharp retort but as she looked at his smiling face, she began to smile, too. “How many clams would I have to dig to pay for a blue silk dress?”

“It would cost you more than clams. It would cost you friendship. All you have to do is stop inciting the town to ridicule me and I'll buy you the dress.”

“Oh.” A wave of guilt washed over Jessica. She hadn't thought how Alexander felt being the butt of all the jokes—but now she knew the feeling all too well. “Please don't buy me a dress,” she said, looking down toward her shovel.

“Then we can be friends?”

“I…I guess so.”

There was a pause and she glanced at Alexander to see that he was smiling. He wasn't a bad-looking man, although much of his face was hidden beneath the big powdered wig. No doubt that snobby servant of his shaved Alex's head every morning. Of course his clothing and that belly of his were preposterous. Even Abigail, who liked almost any man and especially rich single men, ignored Alexander.

Alex, with a smile of contentment, removed his satin jacket, stretched out on the log, his big belly standing up like a piece of whale fat floating on the sea. “Tell me what you thought of the Raider.”

Jessica was thoughtful a moment. “He likes glory. Why else would he ride through the middle of town for everyone to see him?”

“Perhaps that was the idea. Maybe he wanted everyone's attention on him so Ben could remove the tea. You heard, didn't you, that they're gone? Ben, his wife and all four kids left in the middle of the night. Don't you think the Raider gave them that chance to escape Pitman?”

“Don't mention that man's name to me! You who take money from him!”

As she walked by him, he caught her wrist, encircling it with his fingers but not squeezing. “Did it ever occur to you that if I take twenty-five percent of my esteemed brother-in-law's profits, then I will know how much he's earning? And as a partner of sorts, I can look over his books. I might, if he begins to trust me, find out whose ship he's planning to take next.” He released her wrist.

“No, I never thought of that.”

Alex put his hands under his head. “Do think about it.”

Jess put clams in the basket and looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. His fat thighs were straining against the yellow satin breeches and his belly was about to pop two buttons.

“It doesn't matter about this Raider, he won't have courage enough to reappear. Pitman's on to him.”

“And of course you're sure Pitman's smarter than the Raider.”

It was difficult for her to consider the Raider in any terms but hatred after what he'd done to her. “He's a glory-seeking braggart and I hope I never see him again.”

“You have no idea who he is? After all, you were very close to him.”

“No idea at all, but I'm sure I'd recognize him if I saw him again. He has a very cruel-looking mouth. Oh no!” she gasped, looking out to sea. She had spread one of her two precious fishing nets on a rock to dry and now one of the many lobsters that the tide had lifted out was carrying it away. She made a grab, missed, then ran into the sea.

Alex was off his log in seconds. He caught himself just as he started after her. He had to remain in character. “Jessica, are you planning to swim to China after that net?”

She stopped, waist deep in the icy water, and watched the net float away from land. “I think I can get it if I could get down that rock ledge.” She gave Alex an appraising look. “Could you hold my feet so I can hang over the side?”

Alex nodded, keeping his eyes raised, not looking down at her dampened shirt clinging to her breasts. “I think I could manage.”

“I'm awfully heavy.”

He wiped his sweating palms on his padded thighs. “Let's try it.”

Jess stretched out on the grass, using her arms to support her half way over the rock ledge.

Alex stood over her. The baggy sailor's pants were clinging to her thighs and showing every curve of her lovely little fanny.

“Alex!” Jess said impatiently. “Are you going to hold me or not?”

“I will,” Alex said in a subdued voice, then took her ankles and lifted her so she could hang over the side of the ledge.

“Just a little more,” Jess said, stretching to reach the net. “Got it. You can pull me up now.”

Quite easily, Alex pulled her up, being careful not to let her body touch the rough rocks. He dropped her feet when her head was on flat land.

Jess lay still for a moment while she examined the net. “No new tears, I'm thankful for that.” Lithely, she got to her feet. “Alex, you look a little pale. I think I was too heavy for you. Sit down and rest.”

Alex did as she bid.

“I'll get the clams and walk you back. A man of your…physique shouldn't have exerted himself like that.” She ran down the little bank and picked up the basket of clams and when she returned, Alex was still sitting on the rock, his face white, his forehead sweaty. Poor man, she thought, he isn't used to exercise. She extended her arm to him. “Lean on me, I'll help you. We'll go back to your father's house and Eleanor will brew you a cup of tea—legal, expensive tea,” she added, smiling and patting his hand that was on her arm. “Eleanor will help you recover.”

*   *   *

“She thinks I'm ninety years old!” Alexander said to Nicholas, through his clenched teeth as he brushed the big stallion.

They were on a piece of land off the coast of the Warbrooke harbor, a tiny rocky island good for nothing but the breeding of mosquitoes and black flies. Eighteen years ago a ship had gone aground on the island's south coast during a hideous winter storm and all hands had died. One man had been found the next morning frozen to the top of the main mast, a lantern in his hand. People said that for days a light could be seen wandering about the island, but upon investigation, no one was to be found. Someone called it Ghost Island and everyone kept away from it. It was the perfect place to hide the Raider's horse and gear.