Beloved Captive (37 page)

Slowly, she seemed to come back to herself. “I cannot,” she
murmured.

Blood began to pound at his temples. Surely she would not rebuff him. Not his Miss Crusoe. “You cannot what?”

“I cannot continue this conversation,” she said as she whirled around to practically run across the field.

Caleb caught her easily but resisted the urge to haul her back. As with the times he’d heard God speak, there was no forcing a moment beyond its natural end. And it appeared the conversation that set him dancing for joy like King David had reached its end.

At the gate she neither paused nor offered a good-bye. When the door closed behind her, something also shut tight in his heart.

He’d almost reached his office when he realized he hadn’t warned Emilie about the three characters who insisted on pretending a friendship with her. Unless he missed his guess, they were scouts sent by Thomas Hawkins.

The day passed in a numbing routine of conversations, work, and silence until Caleb though he would lose his sanity. At precisely four, he spied the trio walking toward the office.

“Afternoon, Judge Spencer,” the Frenchman called.

He waited until all three had assembled inside to raise his pistol.
 

“What is this? Are you jealous of that pretty girl?” the younger one asked.
 

“Emilie is her name, yes?” the Frenchman said.

Caleb pulled back on the hammer.
 

“You’re not going to shoot us,” the big man said. “There’s three of us, and you’ve only got one pistol.”

The blood pounded at his temples. The truth had imprisoned him once again. A fitting fate for these wharf rats as well.

He pointed to the door that connected the jail with his office, a passageway Judge Campbell had been wise to commission. “If you’re with Hawkins, you know I’m a fair shot. If you’re not, then you’re about to find out.”

None spoke, though the words did have the effect of taming their bluster.

“So you’ve got a choice,” he said, fueling his words with the dual anger of their threat to Emilie and their connection to Hawkins. “All three of you find safety in my jail or at least one of you, likely all, will be carried out by the undertaker.”

He was almost disappointed when they chose the jail.

* * *

November 7, 1836

As word spread that the jail had three new occupants, so did the rumor that Caleb had caught the men who’d stolen goods from the wrecks. He could make no such accusation without proof, however, and he had none.

According to the letter Mrs. O’Mara had delivered along with the men’s afternoon meal, he also had little time to find the proof he needed. The navy secretary’s arrival in Fairweather Key was imminent, likely the second week of November. He would be hard pressed to explain three men detained without charges, even if he and the rest of Fairweather Key did believe they were guilty.

Thus when Reverend Carter arrived at the boardinghouse to interrupt his dinner, Caleb was not exactly receptive to his invitation for an evening stroll. With a promise from Ruby to keep his dinner warm, Caleb agreed.

“Forgive the intrusion,” the pastor said as he made for the door, “but I warrant you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He paused to allow Caleb to step out ahead of him into the deepening twilight. “Or,” he said slowly, “perhaps not.”

“Go on,” Caleb said as they set off walking down the middle of the empty street, the lights of homes on either side of them and the moon above guiding their way.

Reverend Carter’s cane clacked a rhythm on the hard pavement even as his sprightly gait offered up no evidence of its need. “I’ve spoken to Emilie.”
 

At the mention of her name, Caleb’s heart sank. So the schoolteacher had spoken of him? Likely only to say how she heard his admission of love, then turned her back on it. A laugh was surely had at his expense.

“And?” Caleb offered.
 

“And being a man who only had sons, she and Isabelle are like daughters to me. That said, understand that our conversation did not encompass anything personal in relation to the two of you, much to my regret.” The pastor paused to lean on his cane. “I have strong feelings on that particular subject.”

“Oh?” He glanced at the old man. “Anything you’d care to share with me?”

“Oh, I’d care to share it,” he said, “but I haven’t pastored a church this long without learning when to speak and when to keep my mouth closed.”

“Fair enough.” They resumed walking. “So might I ask what words of wisdom Emilie has for me?”

“Emilie feels you’ve incarcerated those men without cause.”
 

Irritation struck. “Then let her tell me.”

The pastor held up his hand to silence Caleb’s protest. “Or, possibly, for a cause that’s not quite good enough to get a man jailed.”

Caleb bit back the sharp response he wished to release. “And what cause would that be?”

Reverend Carter seemed reluctant to speak. “Could you be paying these men back for keeping a little company with Emilie?”

“Did she say that?” he exclaimed, his tone much harsher and his voice much louder than he intended.

The preacher seemed unfazed. “She mentioned a situation where you walked up on them having refreshments on her porch.”

His blood boiled, and if he hadn’t made a point of steering clear of the schoolteacher, Caleb might have stormed up to her cottage on the hill and told her exactly what he thought of her conclusions and the fact that she’d decided to share them with others.

“Reverend Carter,” he said as gently as he could manage, “I’m afraid Emilie is mistaken.”

He gave Caleb a hard look then slowly nodded. “I’ve known you to be a fair man,” he said, “and I believe you’ve known me to be an honest one.”

“I have,” Caleb said.

“Then I must be honest with you. I’ll not require proof of these men’s guilt, nor will I offer any that they’re innocent. What I ask is whether you have either.”

Caleb said nothing.

“It’s likely they were involved in those thefts. My son tells me nothing’s gone missing since they were thrown in jail.”

“That’s true.”

“But we’re still living in Florida Territory, and a man cannot be locked up indefinitely without a proper trial.” He paused. “And I figure maybe Emilie’s right in saying you’d formed an opinion before you decided they were to be locked up.”

He had to consider the statement a minute before grudgingly agreeing to its truth. “Should I release them, I fear for Emilie’s safety.”

Reverend Carter’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll need to be more specific about this, son.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Caleb said, “but I cannot.”

“Then I’ll ask again that these men be released. I don’t want to take this to the people, but I will if need be.”

Caleb shook his head. “Why would you do that? I’m trying to keep those people safe.”

“Here’s the thing, son,” the old pastor said. “Sometimes safety isn’t worth the price.”

“What do you mean?”

Reverend Carter rested his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “I admire you,” he said. “You’re a good man, and if she weren’t so stubborn, you’d be a good husband to my Emilie. But much as you’ve got good intentions here, Fairweather Key’s already been under the rule of one tyrant, and we will not tolerate another.”

They passed the lights of town and walked under a canopy of stars. In the distance, the rise and fall of waves against the shore echoed. “Is that what you’ve called me away from my dinner to tell me?”

“It is,” the pastor said.

“Then you’ve said it.” Caleb stopped, and Reverend Carter followed suit. “If there’s nothing further, I’ll be returning to Ruby’s stew.”

“So we’re clear,” he said, “you understand what you’re facing should you continue to hold these men without charges.”

Caleb pondered the statement—carefully worded not to be a question—and worked his anger down to a mild upset. “Reverend, I will take what you’ve said under advisement. So we’re clear,” he added, “I am still the judge of this part of Florida Territory, and I will do my duty with concern for one thing: the law.”

Hezekiah Carter gave a curt nod. “That is all I can hope for, son,” he said.
 

“Then we’re clear.”
 

“We are.” The reverend placed his hand on Caleb’s sleeve. “There’s just one more thing.”

Caleb expelled a long breath. “What would that be?”

“Emilie.”

The name hung between them. Caleb resisted the urge to speak as they left the starry night behind and turned onto the street leading through town. Up ahead, the single spire of the church beckoned, as did the lights in the window of the rectory.

“I want her to smile again,” Reverend Carter finally said.

Dipping his head, Caleb felt his heart lurch. “Tell her that,” he said.
 

They walked in silence, then paused in front of the church. Reverend Carter seemed ready to say something further on the subject, but Caleb held up his hands to stop him.

“I’m going to ask something of you, Reverend,” he said. “I have reason to believe those men wish harm to Emilie. I’ll not reveal anything further than that. You will have to ask her for details.”

“Fair enough.”
 

A door opened in the rectory, and Mary Carter called to them. “Good evening, ma’am,” Caleb responded. After turning down a meal and dessert, he made his excuses and turned to leave.

“Judge,” the reverend called.

Caleb stopped but did not respond.
 

“I’ll see she comes to stay with us or Isabelle and Josiah for a few days. How’s that?”

“Thank you,” he said, only later realizing the statement meant he’d already decided to release the criminals.

* * *

November 8

The last of the wharf rats scurried from the jail like vermin set loose. Rather than lecture the men on proper behavior while visiting the city, Caleb decided to allow the men from whom they’d stolen to escort them aboard their vessel and see to their departure.

Caleb watched from the docks as the trio’s vessel slipped over the horizon, a parade of wrecking vessels in its wake. As they turned to head back to port, Caleb went back inside.
 

He’d done the right thing in releasing the men, of this he was certain. Legally, he’d performed his duty. Whether justice had been served was another matter altogether. For now, men who presented an obvious threat were walking free, and Emilie Gayarre was closeted behind the lace curtains at Josiah and Isabelle Carter’s home.

Where was the justice?

Micah stepped inside, a grin on his face and his red hair suffering from the windy ride back into port. “Likely they’ll not be bothering us again,” he said.

“Thank you,” was all Caleb could muster.

The wrecker came to stand across the desk from Caleb. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear, Judge,” he said. “I was about to try out my sea legs on my new boat. Want to come along?”

It didn’t take much in the way of talking to convince Caleb to step aboard the as-yet-unnamed wrecking vessel. Getting his own sea legs back was another matter entirely.

While he wasn’t pitched into the drink, he did tumble twice. “You’ll do better next time,” Micah offered.

“Next time?” Caleb shook his head as he stepped off the vessel. “You’d have me back? For a navy man, I’m a poor example of a seaman.”

“But you weren’t always, were you?”

The wrecker’s question took him by surprise. “No,” he finally said, “I wasn’t.”

Micah nodded but said nothing further on the subject. “You think they’ll be back?” he finally asked.
 

“Those three?” Caleb looked around to see who might be listening, then gave Micah his attention. “I do.”

He seemed to think on the admission a moment. “I do, too.”

“I would have you continue to keep an eye on Emilie. I don’t trust these men, and I think their purpose here was not petty thievery.”

“No,” he said, “they were hunting down the Benning and the woman who caused their captain nearly to be hanged.”

Caleb put out a hand to stop the wrecker. “How did you know of this?”

“I pay attention to things,” Micah said.
 

“Such as?”

“The warehouse stands right next to the jail. Have you noticed that?”

“Not until now.” He paused to allow a pair of ladies to pass. “What else do you know?”

“Thomas Hawkins is alive and royally aggrieved that he nearly swung from the rope in Havana.”

He nodded. “This much I knew.”

“You see, I’ve been keeping tabs on those fellows because I thought maybe they were here after Ruby. She was on that vessel with those girls.” When Caleb nodded, he continued. “Now I’m certain they have no idea she and the girls survived. I was in that warehouse a number of hours every day, and they never spoke of Ruby.” Another pause. “They did, however, talk at length about you and Emilie.”

Caleb knew he was well and truly caught. “So you know.”

“That you’re the Benning?” He nodded. “What I don’t know or care about is what in the world that means.”

Relief washed across his worries. “I appreciate your reluctance to pry. What I can tell you is this: The threat to Emilie is real and, unless I miss my guess, imminent.”

“He’ll touch a hair on her head only over my dead body,” Micah said.

“No,” Caleb responded. “Over mine.”

“Be careful what you say, Judge,” Micah said. “Else I’ll think you’re serious.”

“But I am.” Caleb looked out over the horizon then turned to Micah. “She won’t let me near enough to keep her safe. So I’ll have to go to the source of the trouble.”

“Hawkins?”

Caleb nodded.

“How will you find him?”

“I won’t.” He shrugged. “He’s going to find me.”

Chapter 40

November 19, 1836

Caleb’s letter went out on the fourteenth of November. Owing to the stiff trade winds and the hefty sack of gold in the captain’s private safe, the mail cutter arrived at the dock in Santa Lucida the next morning. This Caleb had learned Friday night when Fletcher walked into the boardinghouse.