Pirate of My Heart: A Novel (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

S
tanding on the deck of the ship
Liberty
, Kendra looked out toward the London harbor in the distance. Low-lying fog shrouded the city against gray, water-laden clouds. The wind chilled her to her core, causing her nose to ache and shoulders quiver. It was a sharp contrast to the day she’d left, so bright and sunny. Now, it was January, winter had come and, with it, the London drear.

The voyage had been depressing as well with bad weather dogging them, rough waves and storms, so much rain. Then she’d experienced the occurrence of morning sickness which lasted well into each day. She had hardly left her cabin for the entire ten weeks at sea. Thank heavens that was fading. She was feeling better now, physically at least. The rest of her felt strangely numb, as if she couldn’t muster the strength to care about anything. Kendra placed her hand on her slightly rounded stomach.
Please God, let everything be alright.
She’d never felt so alone. Aboard another cargo ship, she didn’t even have fellow passengers to talk to. But she was almost home.

Home. Seeing the English shoreline brought bittersweet tears to her eyes. It was good to be home, but at the same time the aching hole in her heart throbbed with longing for her husband.
I’ll never find another man like Dorian, will I?
Why couldn’t it have been for real?

I only have You, Lord. I’m sorry for even thinking that You are not enough. But I miss him. Another person to miss.

Interrupting her thoughts, the captain walked over and stood beside her at the rail. He was a wiry, red-headed man with freckles covering every exposed inch of his weathered face, who spoke with an Irish accent. He’d been too busy to do more than send an occasional sailor down to check on her and another to bring her meals each day, meals she had mostly not been able to eat. But now his blue eyes twinkled at her, seeming glad to be at their journey’s end. “We’ll be docking in a few hours, Mrs. Colburn. If you’ve not already packed, you might wish to do so.”

“Thank you, Captain. I will.”

With a polite tip of his hat, he was gone.

Kendra watched his retreating back. The numbness she fought settled back around her like the fog around the city. She turned and stared at the water, at the waves, and wondered what life would bring next.

And if she could survive it.

Dorian tore across the open field on his Palomino stallion, feeling the controlled muscle of the animal explode with power at the slightest signal of pressed thigh or a tug of the reins. Over the last two weeks since Kendra had left him, he spent every evening working the horse until they were both lathered with sweat. The results were showing. They were learning each other, an instinctive collaboration as to what the other wanted and was capable of. And they pushed, both of them, to the limits of flesh and bone—spirits soaring, bodies straining, souls listening.

The sun faded into a molten red glow at the edge of the horizon but Dorian didn’t heed its warning. The relief these rides provided from the constant ache was too great to stop. It was almost like being aboard the
Angelina
when the wind whipped the sails flat and they clipped along at amazing speeds. It was like flying. Like running headlong into the elements and becoming one with them. It made him feel alive.

His breath whooshed out as they turned in a tight circle at the edge of the clearing and raced back toward the barn. Kahn whinnied, lengthening his neck and stride. They were both breathing in even, ragged gasps. Up and over the swells of the field and then plunging down into gentle valleys, they soared together. The landscape blurred past, a frenzy of movement, a jolting of joy flowed from animal to man. The pounding sound of Kahn’s hooves matched Dorian’s beating heart.

Kendra . . . Kendra . . . Kendra . . .

Noooo! He turned the echoing name aside and clenched his eyes shut. Focusing on Kahn he reclaimed his calm and urged him on even faster. Faster than they’d ever gone. Reckless. Not caring if it killed them. Ravished. Torn apart except in this moment of total concentration.

It was the only thing that worked.
Dear God, it’s the only thing that works!
His throat tightened with the thought, with the truth.

A sudden dip in the ground made the proud beast stumble. It happened so fast Dorian couldn’t react. But Kahn did. With an almost supernatural grace he sidestepped with his powerful back legs, haunches gathered up and exploding with power. He reared up. Dorian clung to him with all the muscle he could muster. Kahn leapt forward, avoiding the hidden hole and springing back into a run. Dorian slowed him by degrees until they smoothed into a canter across the field. He didn’t seem injured but he wasn’t taking any chances. He felt a fool, heat stinging his cheeks when he thought of how hard he had pushed Kahn. And yet, the horse seemed to enjoy it as much as he.

Thank God he wasn’t injured in my foolishness.

They cantered at a gentle pace back to the barn where Dorian gave instructions to have Kahn brushed down, watered, and fed an extra measure of oats. He turned toward the house then. He dreaded going to his room, but it was growing dark and he would have to face it sooner or later.

Walking through the entry he heard a noise coming from his father’s study. “Dorian? Is that you?”

He ignored the question and hurried up the stairs. He’d avoided his parents and, especially Faith, since Kendra had left. Their questioning, sympathetic faces were more than he could bear. He needed to get away again. Like he had with Molly, only he needed escape much, much worse this time.

Entering his suite of rooms, he headed toward the decanter and poured a drink. He slammed it back then took off his dust-smeared coat and slung it across a velvet chair. He was filthy. He should ring for a bath but he didn’t care. Let the room stink right along with him. He poured another drink and took a sip, sinking down on the Persian rug beside his bed. With one knee up, he braced his forearm and stared into the growing darkness, sipping the burning talons of fire from the glass until full dark had settled around the room. His body relaxed against the bedframe behind him.

His mind slowed until even blinking made him tired. He was so tired. Tired of running. Tired of feeling the pain despite everything in his power he’d done not to feel it. Tired of not knowing . . . anything.

He slung the empty glass away with a weak flick of his wrist and heard it roll, clunking across the polished wood floor.
Why did she leave me? I don’t understand. I thought she wanted to be my wife. If she really loved me, she wouldn’t have left.

The silence in the room grew thick, like the dark. Dorian took a sudden breath, afraid. He glanced around, wishing he had thought to light the lantern but couldn’t seem to move, just waited.

Go ahead. Give it to me. I deserve it.

He didn’t know if he was still talking to God or the devil maybe. But something in him was rising up and he needed to finish this.

I miss you, son.

The thought came in an instant way that overwhelmed him. He began to shake—like those stories in the Bible when someone saw an angel and fell flat on their face. He began to feel like that in the thickness of the room. Something, Someone, was here with him.

Lord God, is that You?

Nothing. He thought through the words he’d heard so deep that it took his mind a second to sort out the meaning. Could God really miss him?

His past flashed across his mind. As a boy he’d always been glad to go to church, stand up and sing, read his Bible, and ponder the stories of the people of God. So innocent. So believing and soft-hearted, yielding to any understanding that might come along and help him grow. He saw Molly’s face, a pretty girl with brown ringlets and a fierce desire to escape the poverty of her life. He’d been the ticket out. Her manipulation had turned that naïve boy into a hardened man. He hadn’t had much respect for any woman outside his family after that. Didn’t trust them. Woman after woman until Angelene. They’d all been the same. Grasping, greedy, wanting to take anything from him that they could. Why were they like that? Why had he always attracted that sort of woman?

He thought back on the recent conversation he’d had with Angelene. He’d gone to see her after hearing from a stable hand that Kendra’s horse was returned from Angelene’s house. It was the last place she’d visited before boarding the ship to England. Angelene had tried to play her games with him again.

“Dorian, you know she was never right for you, don’t you? An English aristocrat and all. You know I could make you happy. Not her. Never her.”

Dorian had snapped, grasped her by the neck, and looked down into her dark brown eyes, waiting, hoping to finally see some fear there. “I will never be with you, Angelene. Do you understand? I will never love you. Never.”

She nodded, fear and tears making her eyes glassy, but it was a look that said she finally understood. And he’d not heard from her since. He would never entertain that kind of woman again.

They had made his heart hard. He’d turned from God’s voice, God’s presence, and thrown himself into escape. He saw his ship, arms above his head and throat raw with exalted shouts as they reveled in yet another storm. He saw himself on Kahn this afternoon, riding hellbent toward numbness. It was what he did. What he did without God.

Dorian curled over his upraised knee and allowed the anguish to encompass him. His shoulders shook with silent spasms as the full truth came into his mind and seeped through his soul. He’d replaced God with adventure. He’d replaced trust with control. And he’d let the only woman he would ever truly love leave him.
Forgive me, Father. Forgive me. I want her back. I want You back. I lay my life before You. Whatever You want. Whatever is Your will. Forgive me. Oh, God forgive me and take me back. I don’t want You to miss me anymore!

He breathed hard, rasping into the quiet room. His breathing lengthened and slowly, by degrees, evened out. Finally, a deep peace settled into his very bones. He felt he could lie down and sleep for days. He breathed long and deep, lifting his head.
Thank You, God. I praise You. Thank You for salvation and healing and revelation and truth. Thank You, Father.
A joy he hadn’t felt in a very long time filled him. Peace and joy. His gaze roved the dark room and then there, peeking out from under the bed, something glowed white like a flag lit up by the moon. He stood and walked toward it. Bent down and picked it up.

It was a paper-wrapped package tied in ribbon. He turned it over and over in his hands, able to feel it more than see it. Taking up a candle, he lit it and set it on the bedside table. He sat down on the bed and folded back the paper. A folded note fluttered to the floor. Bending, he picked it up and read the familiar scroll of Kendra’s handwriting.
“Happy Birthday, darling! All my love, Kendra.”
His heart began to pound as he laid the note on the bed. “All my love.” She’d said it, but had she meant it? Dorian turned back to the paper and reached for the white fabric. It unfolded as he lifted it out. A baby’s christening gown. He swallowed hard as the garment’s meaning slammed into him.

A baby. Oh Lord, a baby.

Kendra was going to have his baby. His heart raced as the realization took hold.
If she was going to have a baby why did she leave? Couldn’t she have stayed for the child’s sake, if for no other reason?
He had to go after her. He had to find the answers to his questions. And whatever else happened, he was going to be a father. They were a family and it was time to get them back.