Windswept (7 page)

Her observation was as much an understatement as Jacob admitting to himself that he was surprised to see her in his private domain. The daughter of the Federal judge who was determined to undermine Proctor Salvage was the last person he expected to climb the narrow stairs to his lookout. After a moment he found his voice and responded. “Yes, it does. Hardly the proper environment for a lady of Baltimore. One used to the sheltered harbor of Chesapeake Bay.”

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “Storms don’t frighten me, Captain. I rather fancy the wind actually.”

Letting his gaze sweep the length of her once more, he said, “Not as much as the wind fancies you, Nora.” He pushed away from the railing, and in the confined area of the cupola the simple movement brought him so close that her swirling skirt became entwined with his long legs. “Tell me, Nora," he said, his voice nearly lost in the wind, "if not a storm, what does frighten you?”

Something…perhaps his nearness, perhaps the realization that she had come unbidden into his private world, or perhaps the storm after all, brought a flush of color to her cheeks. Or perhaps she had become as fully aware of their surroundings, and the limited space as Jacob himself had.

At that moment Jacob Proctor knew full well what frightened him. It wasn’t the storm or even the possibility of sailing his vessel into a churning sea. It was the knowledge that he was utterly alone with a woman who awakened emotions in him that had nothing to do with the manly pursuits of wrecked ships and dangerous ocean voyages. And yet these emotions were every bit as male and every bit as dangerous.

Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “Nothing frightens me, Captain. Not even you if you’re trying to.”

He smiled in spite of the fact that frightening
her
was as absurdly ironic as was the mysterious power she apparently had no notion she possessed. The ominous voice of his conscience had already begun to surface in his mind. “Certainly not," he said. "The truth is, Nora, you’ve scared the dickens out of me by coming so boldly into my sanctum. You’re the first woman who’s ever come up here.”

She smiled more to herself than to him. It was only a slight twitch of her pink lips, but it was enough for him to know that his declaration pleased her. She walked to the railing and looked out at white-capped waves, and it occurred to Jacob that she may be the first woman to come to the cupola, but she certainly looked as if she belonged there for all time.

She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with sea air and raising her breasts until they strained the bodice of her gown. Her skirts billowed behind her. More of her hair escaped the meager hold of the snood at her nape. Yes, the wind indeed fancied Nora Seabrook.

She lifted her gaze to him. “I will probably be the first woman to so blatantly ask a favor of you as well, Captain.”

He resisted an almost overwhelming urge to grab a fistful of that luxuriant hair and bring it to his nostrils to recall the scent of lilacs he’d identified when she leaned against him at the courthouse. Then, as now, he couldn’t imagine a favor he wouldn’t grant her. He took a deep breath himself, for reasons that had nothing to do with getting his fill of salt air, and pulled his gaze away from her. It was wise for him to remember that he didn’t grant favors easily “I’m listening.”

“I came through your warehouse a few minutes ago,” she began. “I can’t imagine what all those barrels and bins contain. There must be hundreds of items stored down there.”

She was interested in salvaged cargo? Strange, but at least it was a topic with which he was expertly familiar. “There are. All those barrels will be opened next week for a public auction. You may come if you like and satisfy your curiosity as to the contents.”

“I can’t wait that long, Captain.” There was an urgency in her voice that demanded his full attention. “And I can’t buy anything. I don’t have any money.”

Her honesty surprised and amused him. Leaning his arm on the railing beside her, he met her gaze and smiled. “Then you have a problem. Or perhaps I do. What is it you’d like me to give you for free?”

She told him her plan to open a school for the Bahamian children and teach them to read. If he hadn’t heard such firm conviction in her words, he might have thought she was a bored socialite wanting to help the downtrodden until some other amusement caught her attention. Most of the women he’d known had been like that. But Nora Seabrook seemed truly dedicated to her cause. Enough that she had actually convinced the miserly Angus McTaggart to give her space in his shop. That had required gumption and persuasive skill that Jacob admired.

“So you see my problem, Captain. I am in need of everything. Quills and slates and even seats for the children. Do you think you have any schoolroom items in your warehouse?”

Amazingly, a recent wreck had contained two boxes of materials bound for a monastery in Central America. When the Brothers learned their cargo had been damaged by sea water, they ordered all new materials for their students. The refused items were slightly stained with salt, but were still usable. Jacob had intended to put the boxes up for auction. Now he knew they would never see the auctioneer’s gavel.

“I can help you,” he said. “I’ll give you lumber for benches and what educational materials I have. It should be enough to get started.”

Gratitude shone in her eyes and in her quick smile. “Thank you, Captain. Now I just hope the children will come.”

“You’ll have no problem with the Obalu children,” he said. “Simply tell Portia you want them there. She’ll see to the rest.”

Slender fingers gently wrapped around his lower arm. Her touch was no greater than a feather, yet he felt it as a sudden tightening in his chest.

“You’ve been so kind, Captain Proctor. Not at all like…” Her words caught in her throat and remained unspoken.

“…Like your father would have you believe?”

“He doesn’t know you.”

Her hand stayed on his sleeve, and the first unwelcome tension strained the tendons of his arm. He clenched his fist to keep from drawing away from her. There was no crowd at the harbor to protect her now. No throng at the courthouse. Not even the presence of her family in a house on the other side of the fence. It was just the two of them, and she was so incredibly lovely. Her eyes, as blue as the sea, were innocent and trusting of the stranger who had rescued her from the sea. He looked away as he knew he had to before those eyes swallowed him. “You don’t know me either,” he said harshly.

“Wreck Ashore! Wreck Ashore!”

The warning echoed through the wind and across the streets of Key West. Jacob jerked his arm away from Nora and brought the telescope to his eye. Damn. He’d been so intent on listening to her, watching her, feeling her… Everyone on the island knew but him. It would take a miracle to be the first ship to reach the wreck now.

With a snap of his wrist he accordioned the telescope into the size fit for its storage box. He didn’t need it to see the sheet of driving rain heading for the cupola. Wind howled around them and the first streak of lightning ripped the sky in two. Jacob pulled Nora to the stairs and pushed her ahead of him.

“What’s happening, Captain? Has a ship wrecked on the reefs?”

“That’s exactly what’s happened. And the weather is too foul for you to get home. You’d better stay in the warehouse till it clears.”

She nodded. “And what about you? Are you going out in this?”

“Yes. Me and a dozen others I’d warrant. It’s what this island is all about.”

When they reached the first floor, Jacob took the slicker Willy held out to him and pushed his arms through the sleeves. As he dashed out of the warehouse he called over his shoulder, “When the storm lets up, Nora, go home.”

If she responded he didn’t hear her words. The wind drowned out everything but the fury of the storm. “Yes, Nora, go home,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

Jacob Proctor was a smart man. That’s why he knew he was only lying to himself. For the first time in years, he wanted someone waiting and watching for his return.

Chapter Five

Jacob dashed from the warehouse and headed for the docks. Nora watched him go, the tails of his slicker whipping behind him in a flash of gleaming canary.

He and Willy Turpin reached a vessel at the closest pier and jumped on board. Other crew members were already there, and soon rope riggings flapped freely as sails unfurled to catch the wind. Determined the weather wouldn't stop her from experiencing the schooners race to reach the stranded vessel off shore, she stood under the wooden roof of the warehouse veranda and peered through the rain. The awning kept her dryer than she would have been in the open, but even so, she was soon soaked to the skin.

Jacob Proctor’s vessel was not the first to leave, nor was it the last. Still, the chances of him reaching the wrecked ship before all the others had to be slim. And arriving second didn’t count in this race for riches. Guilt made Nora ball her hands into fists. If she hadn’t been talking to him.

Jacob’s trim schooner came about and rode with the wind. Its sails filled to capacity. Nora ignored her nagging conscience as she tried to visualize what it would be like to crest the waves under such treacherous conditions. Part of her longed to feel the excitement of each undulation of an angry sea as the ship tested its strength against the power of the storm. Another part of her, however, cringed at the danger the stranded passengers and intrepid sailors faced. One sailor in particular.

Remembering one of the last things Jacob said to her, she whispered to herself, “It is true I may not know you well, Jacob Proctor, but witnessing this, I can begin to understand the force that drives you.”

And she was beginning to understand the very heartbeat of the island that she would write about in her journal that night.

Today I witnessed the most thrilling sight of my life,         one that quite unexpectedly took my breath away.

More than a dozen sailing vessels left Key West Harbor, pitted against each other and the elements in a race to save lives and win unknown spoils. Each tall-masted schooner was commanded by a brave captain and crew who sail for riches and to feel the blood thunder in their veins.

“Miss Seabrook, what in heaven’s name are you doing outside in this weather?”

Words scattered like storm clouds as Nora spun around to face the gaunt features of Dillard Hyde, the Clerk of the Court. She hadn’t seen him since the day she arrived when he had patiently explained some of the aspects of life on the island. She shook the folds of her soaked dress and frowned. The official must think she spent most of her life in wet garments.Shouting above the roar of the wind, she said, “Mr. Hyde! How nice to see you again.”

Not the least interested in pleasantries, he made her go inside Jacob Proctor’s warehouse. Searching out a barrel of linens, he chose a bolt of cotton fabric and wrapped a few yards of it around her shoulders. “Really, Miss Seabrook, it is quite foolish of you to stand out in such inclement weather.”

“But I had to see the ships leave.”

He clucked like a mother hen. “There will be plenty of opportunity for that. We have at least half a dozen wrecks a month on this island, and many of them take place in the full, dry light of a noon sun. And when that happens you’ll see most of the ladies of Key West on the docks waiting anxiously for the treasures to come in.” He pulled her further into the warehouse. “Now get away from the windows. You’ll catch your death.”

She allowed herself to be coddled and fussed over by the fatherly man, though she’d never felt healthier or more alive in her life. “But isn’t it all so exciting?” she said. “To think those men risk their lives for treasure.”

Dillard settled his lanky frame on a crate and regarded her seriously. “Theirs aren’t the only lives at risk today, Miss Seabrook. This is a wreck of serious magnitude.”

His tone sobered her instantly, and her heart pounded with trepidation. “What do you mean?”

“The ship that wrecked today is the
Morning Dove
. She was headed for New Orleans from Baltimore with a full register of passengers. I’ve watched her continued listing through my telescope, and it’s bad, Miss Seabrook. Very bad. The ship is floundering dangerously on the reefs.”

“You’re saying people might die?” Nora’s stomach clenched with a sudden, violent upheaval, and she sat heavily on a crate next to Mr. Hyde’s.

He nodded. “This business isn’t only about treasure and riches, and with a storm this bad, I fear the worst.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Nora asked. “Shouldn’t we be preparing?”

He patted her hand. “That’s why I came directly to the docks. If my worst apprehensions are founded, then we need all the help we can get. We only have a fourteen-bed hospital on the island. It is possible that many more people than that will need medical attention.” He looked around the warehouse and sighed. “I had hoped to see some of our citizens braving the weather to gather here, the ladies especially, since so many of the men are on the schooners. Alas, I think the weather has kept them at home. We need volunteers and bandages and someone to keep a soup kettle going.”