Amelia and the Captain Page 7

  She rubbed her wrists. “I told you my intentions.”

  Taking her arm, he pulled her to the front of the boat, into the shadows. “You’re endangering every woman on this ship. Now listen and listen close. I’m only going to say this once. I am not Dov Lanigan. I said I was in order to save your hide.”

  Her lips pursed suspiciously. “Then who are you?”

  “Exactly who I said I am. Morgan Kane.”

  She eyed him warily. “Who are you really? No more games, because I know my imprudence and hard head has landed us squarely in the boiling pot this time.”

  “My name is Morgan Kane. For now, that’s all you need to know.”

  “How could you have possibly known I was here? And the others?”

  “I told you. I overheard your new friend, Austin Brown, bragging in a pub about his conquest. I had no idea what I would find when I got here—certainly not a boatload of kidnapped women.”

  Amelia groaned. “How foolish can one woman be? What can I do? I don’t want to be sold like a side of beef!”

  Dazed and frightened women roamed the deck. The noise was deafening, but Morgan realized they had talked too long. Suspicions would be aroused. He turned as if to leave, his voice carrying softly over his shoulder. “For now, I want you to continue the role of the victim. That shouldn’t be hard for you.”

  “Keep it up, mister. I could change my mind and still cause you great bodily harm,” she whispered.

  He paused. “Ever the victim.”

  “I am the victim!”

  “Go where you’re told, as if you were resigned to your fate.”

  “And what do you plan to do?”

  “You let me worry about that.” His gaze skimmed the rowdy privateers gleefully bedeviling the women. And worry he would until he had the situation in hand.

  And this thorn in his side, Amelia, on her way back to Mercy Flats.

  The moon had slid behind a cloud bank when Morgan gripped the knife handle in his teeth and dove off the pier into the cool water. With strong, sure strokes, he swam for the ship tethered at the farthest slip of the long pier. The less-than-seaworthy-looking vessel concerned him, but the ship was afloat. For the time being, the craft fit his need.

  Amelia and Elizabeth waited with the other women in a deserted warehouse while he secured the vessel. According to loose tongues, the crusty old sailor who owned the ship would do anything for enough money. The three-mast barque was a disgrace to its owner, but that only made Morgan’s job easier. A few coins should secure the women’s passage to Houston.

  When he reached the boat, nothing stirred. Apparently the owner was in a sound sleep or intoxicated state. From this distance, Morgan could hear snores resonating from the deck. The old ship rocked back and forth, its boards creaking like aging bones in the light wind.

  Silently slipping aboard, Morgan crept toward the dim light filtering from the half-closed hatch. His hand closed more tightly around the blade handle as he gently, slowly reached for the opening. A hand clamped on his shoulder.

  “Looking for somethin’, matey?”

  He whirled to confront a grizzled man with white whiskers and rum-soaked eyes. The knife blade flashed in the half-moon. I can take him if needed. But he’d rather not. Violence wasn’t on the agenda. “I need your ship.”

  “That a fact?” The fellow took a swing and grazed Morgan’s cheek. Morgan pinned the man’s arm to his hip. “Relax. I am here to bargain with you.”

  “If you’re going to slit me throat, do it quickly.”

  “I mean you no harm. I work for the United States government, and I need your help. If I release you and you don’t put up a ruckus, I’ll show you my credentials.”

  The old man grunted and met his gaze. After brief thought, he said, “Are you giving me a choice?”

  “That’s up to you. We can handle this in a civilized manner or beat each other’s brains out. I’d prefer the first.”

  The old sea captain’s stance slackened, and Morgan gradually relaxed his hold. In seconds, he produced a loose paper.

  The old man shook his head. “Put your papers away. I cain’t read.”

  “Shall I read it for you?”

  “Just tell me what you need.”

  “I need your ship temporarily.”

  “This old tub?”

  “Sorry, sir. You will be compensated.” Morgan sized up the older man, more confident the old sailor was going to be reasonable. “How large is your crew?”

  “What crew? I don’t have a crew. Look around, mate. Who in their right mind would work aboard this vessel?”

  Relief swept Morgan when he realized the man wasn’t going to fight for the vessel. A fistfight wasn’t in the plan. “How much?”

  The old man squinted. “How much? Well, I think she’s worth every bit of, say, twenty coins.”

  “Twenty.” Morgan frowned. He wasn’t carrying that amount, but he could send for the money if the old man agreed.

  The man stepped closer. “What was you thinking?”

  “I only need the ship for a day or two. Twenty coins is fair.”

  “I can’t pay a cent more than twenty. The government can put that in their pipe and smoke it.” The old man crossed his arms.

  When his words registered, Morgan said, “No. I asked what I could pay you. What is your fee to lease the craft?”

  “Pay me? Money? Are you accusing me of being a thief? I’ve been trying to rid meself of this hangnail for years!” The old man made a valiant sweep of his hand. “You’re welcome to it!”

  Morgan’s heart sank. Apparently he’d picked the only worthless vessel in port. “How many will she hold?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed as though he thought Kane was daft. “She’s been rammed by a whale once when I was sailing in the Pacific. Tore her up pretty good. Then a couple of hurricanes roughed her up—”

  “How many?” Time was wasting. The women would think he’d deserted them. He frowned. “Is she seaworthy? No holes in her hull?”

  The captain’s gaze dropped. “None that comes to mind.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He needed a ship, not a leaking tub.

  “Got her here, didn’t I?” The old man removed his hat and scratched a bed of lice, unless Morgan was mistaken. “How many are you talking about?”

  “Eleven. Women. All women. I need to transport them to Houston tonight.”

  His eyes widened. “A tad overdoing it, ain’t ya?”

  “They’re not my women. I’m escorting eleven females.”

  “Oh. Well, she holds seven at best. M’lady would hold a lot more, but she’s starting to sag in a few places. Females might fall through rotting timber. Got a few weak spots here and there.”

  “Will she stay afloat?”

  He drew back. “Of course she will! I said she was sagging, not rubbish.”

  The ship was rubbish but apparently his lady now. The price would go up. “She’ll hold seven? Four more isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

  The old man scratched thick whiskers. “Suppose not—they’d have to sleep on deck. Every one of ’em.”

  “That’ll do. Will you accept a promissory note from the government?”

  “To buy the ship?”

  Morgan didn’t need a sloop. “I’d prefer not to own it, but I have to get the women out of Galveston tonight.”

  The old man’s hand shot up in protest. “You take the boat. She’s yours—I don’t want her back.”

  Morgan didn’t have time to argue. “How much food is on board?”

  “Couple of tins of sardines, some moldy hardtack.”

  Morgan mentally counted his funds. There was enough to provide food for the brief trip.

  “I’ll need your help. While I get the women aboard, you gather enough food to last through tomorrow. Cheese, sardines, crackers, fresh fruit. We’ll need fresh water. Can you do this?”

  The old man nodded. “I can. If you provide the funds and promise to keep the boat. Fre
sh water’s no problem. There’s a deep well nearby.”

  Morgan needed a run-down ship about as much as he needed another female, but time was short. He would deal with the matter once they reached Houston.

  “Good. As long as we’re in agreement. I’ll get the women.”

  The only good thing Morgan could find about the unexpected turn was that Amelia, in her naïveté, had led him straight to the crux of his mission. Capture and arrest Dov Lanigan. Selling women for profit wasn’t Lanigan’s only crime. He was gunrunning for the South, and the government wanted him. Elizabeth and Morgan had been sent to nail him.

  If it weren’t for the soft spot in his heart for anyone serving the Lord, he would have—should have ridden right past that jail wagon of nuns.

  Amelia huddled in the drafty warehouse with her back pressed to the wall. A cool wind blew off the water and cut through her cloak. The less-than-honorable Austin Brown had provided no comfort for his captives. Most of the women had only thin sleeves to protect them from the biting cold. Brown’s expression had shown no hint of compassion. Only greed dominated his features when the exchange was made. The women filed by, and he absently rubbed his hands together, no doubt anticipating the windfall soon to come his way. Little did he know he was being played for a sucker.

  “What’s taking him so long?” someone whispered.

  “He’ll be back.” A shiver raced down Amelia’s spine. He had to come back.

  “How can you be certain?” Pilar, one of the young captives, shook her head. “It seems we’re in worse trouble than we were, if possible.”

  Amelia bit her lower lip, pulling her cloak closer. She longed to spill the beans, but she couldn’t. Though she would like to smack Morgan upside the noggin, she would play along with his plan because she must. She wasn’t dumb, and she valued her life—plus she would never do anything to further endanger the other ladies’ lives.

  “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m going to pray.” Mahalia, the dark-skinned one, started, and the others bowed their heads. The young lady’s voice swelled with pleas. “Loving Father, take this unspeakable evil and turn it for Your good—”

  The heavy door slid back, and Morgan, accompanied by an older gent, appeared carrying an armload of blankets. “Put these around you.”

  Amelia gratefully accepted a covering “Did you find a ship?”

  “I found something close. It will have to do.” He turned to face the women. “All right, ladies. You can set your fears to rest. I am not Dov Lanigan.”

  Soft, surprised exclamations broke out.

  “My name is Morgan Kane—Captain Morgan Kane. I am with the United States government. For now, that’s all you need to know about me. Rest assured that I’m here to rescue you—if that’s possible.” His gaze slid to Elizabeth, who looked visibly relieved, and then continued addressing the group. “I’ll need your full cooperation to pull this off. My plan, for the moment, is to get you out of Galveston, which doesn’t mean you will escape harm. The hoax will buy you time—how much I can’t promise.”

  Excited chatter broke out, and he raised his hand to silence the women. “Celebration comes later, if there is a later. I know there are a hundred questions racing through your minds about me and about your future, but we’re playing this by the minute. Time is fleeting. Don’t speak a word, and stay in the shadows. The ship to freedom is located at the end of the dock. Board swiftly. We can’t risk the chance that Brown will catch on to the ruse before we set sail. If we all row, we can move the vessel offshore and go undetected before early tide.”

  The women’s heads bobbed with relieved acceptance.

  “Let’s go. Stay close and no theatrics. You’re safer in a group than trying an escape on your own.”

  One by one, the women filed out of the shed, hugging the shadows. Boisterous laughter filled the air even at this late hour. Seaman were drinking themselves into a stupor before staggering back to their ships before dawn.

  An old vessel bobbed in the water at the end of the pier. The strong smell of rotting fish filled Amelia’s nostrils as she kept pace in line. Captain Kane was taking a huge risk. The departure was yet another delay in his plans, and once again she was at fault. Guilt washed over her. The whole unsettling matter must test his patience to the limit. When was she going to stop following her impulses, which inevitably proved mistaken? Long ago she had grown tired of scamming others. Why hadn’t she stopped then instead of waiting for another foreseeable disaster?

  Dearest God, if You will only get me out of this situation alive, I promise to never take from another what isn’t mine. And whether Abigail likes it or not, she might just find a man like Captain Kane and like him. Yes, really like him, maybe even marry the man and have more children than the stars…

  Well, maybe not the stars, but a bunch.

  With her heart in her throat, she kept to the shadows, turning to shush an occasional suppressed sob. Once, the entourage was forced to pause as two men exited a tavern. The packet rats appeared to take little notice of the strange line of women on their silent march to the port.

  Amelia focused on the vessel moored at the end of the pier, and her pulse quickened. Please, God, just a few more steps…

  A white-haired man with a surprisingly strong grip grasped her hand and helped her aboard. One by one, the women stepped lightly. Embarking took less time than to fry an egg. Morgan turned and hauled up the plank before he addressed the women. “Ladies, if any among you is a praying woman, I would suggest you be about it. The tide is still a few hours away. Until we set sail, we won’t be safe. Even then, Brown will most likely discover the swindle and follow us.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Bunny asked.

  “Captain Frost,” he nodded to the older man, “assures me he can get us safely to Houston. From there, you’ll be on your own.”

  “But I live here,” Ria said.

  Another joined in. “So do I!”

  “Me too!”

  Morgan lifted a hand. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we must leave port. I can only get you as far as Houston. From there, you will have to make arrangements to return.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “I know this is not to anyone’s liking, but I can’t leave you to Brown’s mercy. He doesn’t have any.”

  “I have no funds for return passage,” Pilar said.

  Morgan looked to the old captain. “Perhaps you can help the women find return passage? I will provide the funds.”

  “If you got enough money, I can do anything,” Frost said.

  “Then it’s settled. Once we reach Houston, we scatter.” Morgan’s gaze swept the women, pausing to rest on Amelia. “Don’t test my patience. I am at the end of my rope.”

  He turned to face the women. “Sorry for the conditions, but it’s the best I could come up with on short notice. You will sleep on deck. The weather is mild, and the captain assures me he has more blankets. With a brisk wind, we’ll be in Houston by midafternoon tomorrow.”

  Amelia’s gaze swept her deplorable surroundings. Rotting deck. Dirt everywhere she looked. Grime and filth. She winced when she spotted a rat scurrying under a moldy plank.

  She didn’t know about the others, but she didn’t intend to ask for an additional blanket, and she certainly wouldn’t be getting much sleep.

  Dawn slowly lifted a veil of foggy mist off the emerald waters. Amelia drew a deep breath of briny air and admired what promised to be a glorious sunrise. The sky was magnificent today above the dazzling gulf. She felt wonderful this morning even though she hadn’t closed her eyes once. She had never been on a ship, never experienced the delight of listening to water slap against the hull as the sloop skimmed over mildly choppy waves.

  Overhead, seagulls dipped and swayed in a dizzying array, and twice she spotted playful dolphins leaping in and out of the water. Truly, she would never forget this frightening yet invigorating experience. Was it possible that Abigail and Anne-Marie might be having the times of their lives? Or had they met an un
speakable fate? Shaking the thought away, she focused on the sheer beauty of the moment. Soon she would be home, reunited with her sisters. She wouldn’t allow her thoughts to drift otherwise.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Amelia glanced up to see Pilar resting her forearms on the railing beside her. The young girl’s eyes were so lifeless, the sight brought heaviness to an otherwise splendid day. One so young should have luminous eyes and a bright smile, but Pilar had neither.

  Morgan Kane had once again come to the rescue, and shortly she and the other women would have their freedom. She had never considered how precious freedom was or the high price mankind paid for the privilege. Morgan was taking a huge risk by his selfless effort to save her and the others, in addition to serving his country. The awful conflict that she’d hardly witnessed came into sharp focus when she recalled the rows of displaced people roaming the back roads with small children, their worldly belongings strapped to their backs. What a selfish child she had been just a week ago. Her circumstances were dire, but she couldn’t help but wonder if God had not set her on this strange journey in order to learn. But what? The true meaning of life? Of how one person could make a difference? In this case that person would be Morgan Kane, a righteous man.

  She acknowledged Pilar’s presence. “Where are the others?”

  “They’re at the front of the ship watching dolphins. The creatures are charming, aren’t they?”

  “Quite. I could watch them all day.” Amelia shuddered, her gaze tracing the dirty deck. “How can Captain Frost live in these conditions?”

  Pilar’s brow rose. “Have you noticed his appearance?”

  The wind battered the women’s unencumbered hair as they stood at the railing, watching the sunrise. If it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, Amelia might wish the day would never end. Her fears were diminished with Morgan aboard, but the almost certainty that Brown would soon discover the ruse hung heavy in the back of her mind. No one could know when he would have discovered the deception, but she’d be willing to concede that he hadn’t gotten where he was by being naive or foolish.