Beloved Captive (28 page)

He went back to the desk to retrieve the ledger from the topmost drawer. In it was a list of the dates, times, and names of masters on every wreck registered in Fairweather Key since the government sent their first judge.
 

Emilie stood in the doorway, though she’d stopped staring at him in that odd way. Now she seemed to merely observe. Likely she’d soon join the other gawkers he could see through the window who were gathering at the dock.

She certainly seemed to be gawking at him. Yet he saw no recognition in her eyes.

Blind her to who I am, Lord. Don’t let my secret be revealed.

“Miss. . .”

“Gayarre,” she said, “Emilie Gayarre.”

Caleb nodded. “Miss Gayarre, if you will forgive me, I must get out to the dock and see to the supervision of the wrecking process.”

Her response was slow in coming. “So are you. . . ?”

“Judge Campbell’s replacement? As I said, I am indeed the new judge.” He set the ledger aside and walked toward her, offering her his hand in greeting. “Lieutenant Caleb Spencer, United States Navy, at your service.”
 

“Spencer?” fell from her lips in a sound just louder than a whisper. Miss Gayarre shook his hand, then held her grip. “No,” she finally said.

“Yes, and I do beg your forgiveness for the fright I gave you this morning. I thought to follow, then decided chasing after you might cause further upset.”

“No.”
 

This time she spoke the word with a bit more force. Her grip tightened as well.
 

Please do not let her see who I really am, Father
.

“No?” Caleb gave her what he hoped was a stern look. “I assure you it’s all quite true.”

Emilie Gayarre continued to stare at him in a manner that put him in mind of the frightened creature he’d hoisted aboard the
Cormorant
.

“Well,” he said in what he hoped would be a casual yet firm tone, “I really must go.”

Still she hung on tight.

Indeed this was a problem. One God seemed to have left up to Caleb to solve.

“Really, Miss Gayarre.”

“You’re. . .” She seemed unable to say more.
 

“The new judge,” he supplied, hoping his direct manner would deflect any suspicion she might have and cause her to release him. “Caleb Spencer.”

“No,” she said, slowly, “you’re the man I shot. You’re the Benning.”

* * *

Judge Campbell burst through the door, nearly knocking Emilie down in the process. Somehow, the man she knew as the Benning slipped from her grasp. Before she could collect her thoughts and muster them into words, she watched the new judge’s broad back disappear down the courthouse steps.

As he turned toward the docks, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder. While the expression on his face was unreadable, the authority in his voice had been unmistakable.
 

Lieutenant Caleb Spencer, United States Navy, certainly did not seem like a pirate, and he bore neither the unruly mane nor the overgrown beard of the ruffian who’d bartered for her with bags of gold only to steal her heart with a kiss in the shadow of a rowboat.

Yet. . .

It was all so confusing.

“Isabelle,” she said as she gathered her wits. “She’ll know what to do.”

Emilie made her way through the throng heading toward the docks and raced toward the tidy home of Isabelle and Josiah Carter. As was her custom, she knocked twice, then threw open the door.

“Well, Emilie,” Josiah’s mother exclaimed. “What a nice surprise. You’re just in time for lunch. William,” she called, “set another place at the table for Miss Emilie.”

“No,” Emilie said, “I can’t stay. I’m looking for Isabelle.”

“Why, she’s at your cottage with those dear ladies from last night’s wreck.” She looked perplexed. “Didn’t you ask her to keep them company until a room could be found at the boardinghouse?”

“Oh yes, of course.” She shrugged. “I’m terribly sorry. I’m just not thinking clearly right now. Do excuse me.”

She hurried away toward her cottage, pondering the dilemma of speaking to Isabelle while keeping the actual topic undetectable to the O’Shea ladies. She needn’t have bothered, for when Emilie arrived at the gate, laughter was the music of the moment, and it was apparent that conversation would be quite impossible.

Isabelle had moved the party outdoors where she’d spread the feast from her mother-in-law’s basket on a board set atop the span between two tree stumps. One of the twins had made a drum from an upturned bucket, and the other sang. Tess, a crown of wildflowers in her tumbledown curls, danced to the symphony of sounds, while Isabelle and Ruby clapped in some semblance of rhythm. Surprisingly, baby Joey slept soundly on his blanket in the shade.

“Oh, Emilie,” Isabelle said as she rose. “You’ve decided to join us.”

The music ceased, though Tess continued her dance. Ruby seemed unsure as to whether to remain seated or stand.

“Might I speak to you a moment, Isabelle?” Emilie said lightly, then offered Ruby what she hoped would pass for a genuine smile. “Forgive the interruption. It won’t take but a moment.”

“Go right ahead,” she said.

Isabelle reached Emilie’s side and grasped her hand. “What’s happened? Is it Josiah?”

“No,” Emilie said quickly. “It has nothing to do with him, though the wreckers are out on the reef again.”

“Yes, I heard the bell.” She paused. “If not Josiah, then what brings you back in the middle of the day?”

“The Benning,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“The Benning?” Isabelle shook her head, then Emilie saw recognition slowly dawn. “The man you shot?”

“Quiet,” Emilie said. “No one can know.”

She grasped Emilie’s sleeve and jerked her closer. “I don’t understand. What is that pirate doing in Fairweather Key? He is a pirate, right?”

“Oh, Izzy, I don’t know. Right now he’s claiming to be Lieutenant Caleb Spencer.” She paused to return Tess O’Shea’s wave. “He claims to be the next judge.”

“Of all the—”

The warning bell in town rang again, and a flock of coal-colored orangequit took flight from the nance tree in the easternmost corner of the clearing.
 

“That’s odd,” Emilie said. “Why ring the bell now when the wreck’s been announced and the men are already at sea?”

Isabelle’s eyes went wide. “Someone’s been hurt.”

“Don’t let your imagination take over. First we pray; then we go see to it.” Emilie grasped her sister’s hand and beseeched the Lord to protect those at sea and to see to the quick care and healing of whoever had been harmed. She added a silent plea for the safety of Josiah and Micah, then said “Amen.”

“Ladies,” Isabelle called as she walked back to snatch up her sleeping son, “Emilie and I are going down to the dock. We’re a bit concerned about the warning bell. It could be an indication someone was injured.”

“Oh no.” Ruby rose. “Would you like us to come along?”

“It’s not necessary,” Emilie said. “Please just enjoy the day and the lunch Mrs. Carter prepared. You’ve been through enough this week.”

Ruby’s grateful smile was answer enough.
 

“Likely we’ll return shortly, and all this excitement will have been for naught,” Isabelle said.

Isabelle got all the way to the garden gate before she grabbed Emilie’s hand. “Tell me everything, but understand until I know my husband’s uninjured I may not remember it all,” she said as the baby awakened and began to fuss. The baby offered Emilie a wary eye, then stilled.

“I saw the man inside the judge’s office. He introduced himself as navy Lieutenant Caleb Spencer. He claims he’s Judge Campbell’s replacement.”

They turned onto the main avenue, where the narrow sidewalk made conversation difficult. Finally, the walkway widened near the courthouse, and Emilie was able to fall into place beside Isabelle. By now, the baby was sound asleep against his mother’s shoulder.

“Em,” she said, “are you certain it’s him?”

Emilie hesitated. “The man I met today had certainly met with the barber’s shears since I’d last seen him, but yes, I think it’s him.”

“You think?”
 

Joey’s eyes opened again, and Emilie reached to touch a lock of his down-soft hair. “I have a strong feeling, Izzy,” she said, “and it seemed as though he was, well, I don’t know, nervous.”

Isabelle gave her a sideways look. “To make such an accusation, you need to have more than just a feeling, strong or otherwise. As for his nerves, perhaps he was struck by your beauty.”

Emilie laughed. “Likely not. If so, he would be the first.”

“Why do you say such things? Perhaps you just don’t see what the rest of us—”

The bell rang again, and they picked up their pace until they reached the edge of the milling throng. Isabelle pointed out Reverend Carter and headed in his direction.

He waved to Isabelle, and when she reached him, he embraced her. “Relax, dear, our Josiah has sent word that he is fine.”

“Thank You, Lord,” Isabelle said as she leaned heavily on her father-in-law’s arm. Emilie relieved Isabelle of Joey so she could compose herself.
 

Hezekiah looked over Isabelle’s head to fix his gaze on Emilie. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how close you’ve become to Micah.” He reached to take Joey. “Pray,” he continued, “because they’re looking for him now.”

“For Micah?”

He pointed to the water and the horizon beyond where a ship burned to the waterline. Clusters of wrecking vessels fanned out in a half-circle around the flaming hulk, none of which looked to be moving away.

An odd situation entirely, for rarely did a wrecking vessel lay anchor for any amount of time. Such was their lot that fetching and returning was the call of duty, not sitting and waiting.

It could only mean one thing. None would leave until their brother was found.

The world tilted, then righted again. “Tell me,” Emilie began with difficulty, “tell me what happened.”

“I only know what Josiah has said. They approached the vessel together, he in the
Freedom
and Micah in the
Caroline
. Micah arrived first, making him master of the wreck once again. Though the ship was already burning, he went aboard to secure the vessel and organize the passengers for rescue. The ship was declared evacuated, and Josiah gave the order for the wreckers to lay anchor and board for salvage.”

Reverend Carter paused, his attention returning to the drama unfolding in the ocean. Joey snuggled against his grandfather’s neck, then stilled. “I was certain that boy would preach alongside me someday,” he said softly. “Surely I cannot be mistaken.”

Chapter 29

School was suspended for the afternoon, much to the delight of the students gathered at the door. For children already anticipating their month-long summer break, this unexpected holiday sent them cheering down the path, their high spirits audible even as the last child disappeared.
 

When the schoolyard was empty, Emilie returned to her desk until the tears began to spill. “I cannot cry,” she said, rising. “There is nothing yet to cry over,” she whispered as she stepped into the sunshine and swiped at her cheeks.

Emilie found a soft place near a stand of mango trees and sat, heedless of the mess she might make of her borrowed frock. From her vantage point, she could see the charred and blackened hull of the vessel and the wrecker’s boats still gathered nearby.
 

“Keep Micah safe, Lord, and please hold Your hands of protection around all the wreckers today.”

With those words, something inside broke open, and the heart she’d held so closely guarded softened.
 

How long she sat watching the waves roll past the wreck and its attendants, Emilie had no idea. One by one, the vessels began to weigh anchor and turn toward home.

Emilie picked up her skirts and ran, caring about neither the looks of the bystanders nor the impropriety of the situation. By the time she reached the dock, the first of the wrecking boats had arrived. She cried out in thanks upon finding it was the
Freedom
.

“We’ve got him,” Josiah called when he spotted her.
 

“Where is he?” she called as she stepped onto the boat. “What’s his condition? And where’s the
Caroline
?”
 

Josiah stilled her by linking arms with her. “Right now I’ve got to see to Micah.” He gestured behind her, and Emilie saw Dr. Hill approaching. “You need to calm down and wait. Can you do that?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her heart still racing from the run. “I am perfectly calm, Josiah.”

He looked at a point behind her. “Judge, would you mind seeing to Miss Gayarre?”

Emilie turned, expecting to see Judge Campbell. Instead, her gaze collided with the Spencer fellow. Or the Benning. Or whoever he was.

“I’m fine,” she said even as she knew she was anything but.

* * *

Everything about Emilie Gayarre put Caleb on guard. From the way she looked at him to the damage she could do to his career should she persist in identifying him as the Benning.

At the moment, however, she seemed too preoccupied with the fate of her Micah to care that her mere presence grated on his resolve to say nothing of their shared past. Even now, she stared at him as if he were some trussed-up turkey in a shopkeeper’s window.

A watch bell clanged, while overhead gulls cried out and swooped in and out of the swells for their afternoon meal. On the horizon, a single white cloud, its southernmost edge blackened with a smear of coal, portended rain.

“Miss Gayarre?”

She barely blinked. “Mr. Spencer.”

Even the way she said his name gave him pause. As if she had not yet become convinced he was indeed the man he claimed to be. Caleb sighed.
 

“Lieutenant Spencer,” he corrected, “or Judge Spencer, if you prefer.”

She ignored him. Caleb, in turn, tried to ignore the realization that his mother had never looked as lovely as the Gayarre woman did in that dress.