Renegade (24 page)

No one spoke until Eugenia returned, pausing to swing the door shut behind herself. She didn’t sit, but crossed her arms under her breasts and looked thoughtful. When she saw that they were all looking at her, she sighed. “He’s convinced you’re smugglers. I did my best to play the doting mother-in-law-to-be, but I can’t imagine it helped. He kept warning me—I think he thinks he’s trying to do me a favor!—about how you were taking advantage of us all.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Eugenia waved his words away. Becks squeezed his hand, but he didn’t know if it was supposed to be a comfort or a warning to let her mother talk.

“He thinks he might be back as early as tomorrow. Or at least, that’s what I’m assuming from a few of his comments. That leaves you until the morning to set sail.”

Leave Beckett.

He felt her squeeze his hand again, almost desperately, and he did the same. Leave Beckett?

For the first time, he understood how much this place meant to him. Here was a place—a home—that was built on respect and equality and comfort. Here he’d met men and woman who’d put aside their pasts to work together towards their futures. Here, he’d found peace and acceptance and fun and…
her
. Here, now, he understood what she’d been trying to tell him this afternoon, about finding a place to love.

How could he leave Beckett? How could he leave her?

He’d heard her suck in a breath and wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going to leave her… but he couldn’t make that promise. He couldn’t even look her in the eyes to see how she was taking her mother’s announcement.

Eugenia continued, though. “I did manage to tell him that y’all would be heading back to Charleston soon anyway, and that he could try to catch up with you there.”

“Did he buy it?” Robert was back to his usual self, planning for the future already.

“Well… I told him it was for the wedding.”

That
got a reaction from Becks, at least. “The
wedding
, Mother?”

“Your wedding, dear. To McKee. That’s what the Major believes, at least, thanks to that brilliant little fib.”

Robert didn’t seem too interested in Mac’s imaginary engagement. “So we head out on the morning tide?”

“I think that would be best.” Eugenia’s words shouldn’t have hurt Mac anymore, but they did. He was leaving Beckett. “And Rebecca Beckett will have to go with you, of course.”

Robert nodded. “Of course.”

Mac’s brows dipped in. He was leaving Beckett, but not her. She’d be coming with him?

“Mother?” Becks’ voice sounded strained, like she was clenching her jaw, but he still couldn’t make himself look. “
Why
do I have to go with him?”

“For the wedding, dear. Try to keep up.” And Mac understood. Eugenia had compounded his lie with another, all to protect Beckett.

Robert nodded. “The wedding.”

“
What
wedding, Mother?”

“To McKee, dear.”

Robert nodded, his lips tight to contain his smile. “To Mac.”

Becks dropped his hand then and pointed one accusing finger at the black man. “You’re laughing, aren’t you? You think this is funny? I just got engaged without being asked and now I’m getting married?”

Robert quit his struggle and let his smile bloom across his face. Still, he kept his voice deadpan when he nodded again and said, “To Mac.” 

“Oh for Christ’s sakes!” She ignored her mother’s reproving “
Rebecca Beckett!
” and turned to Mac. For the first time, he was hit with the full fire and frustration in those sky-blue eyes. “You! You’re the one—”

He caught her flailing finger and brought her hand to his lips. “Becks, I’m sorry. It’s a lie, and the only one I—”

“
I
know it’s a lie! But a lady likes to be asked.”

“Fine. Will you pretend to marry me?”

“No! You’re not
getting
married, remember?”

“It’s just temporary, honey.”

She seemed to deflate then. “Why do I have to go to Charleston?”

Eugenia took pity on her daughter then. “Because Creel thinks you’re going for your wedding. If you don’t go, he’ll suspect that we lied about your relationship with McKee, and then begin to wonder why.”

Mac lightly stroked her wrist, remembering the way her skin felt against his only a few short hours ago. “He’ll suspect Beckett is complicit in our smuggling. I can’t let that happen.”

She pulled away from him with a sigh that seemed to be pulled from her very soul and pushed away from the table. “I can’t let it happen either. I’ll go to Charleston with you.”

“For the wedding.” Mac considered punching Robert after his friend’s quip, and from the glare Becks shot him, she was thinking the same.

Instead, he stood as well and hurried to reassure her. “Just a lie, honey. Come to Charleston with me. See my company.” It wasn’t much—just a portion of a small rented warehouse—but he was suddenly excited to show it to her. “I’ll bring you home once Creel’s convinced. I promise.”

She looked up at him, and he couldn’t read her expression. Hesitantly she placed one palm on his chest, and he felt her touch in the depths of his stomach. With an inarticulate noise, he pulled her to him, they wrapped their arms around each other, and she laid her cheek on his shoulder. “I promise I’ll bring you home, Becks,” he whispered against her hair. “I promise.”

She nodded and sighed again. “I’ve never been on a ship before today, and tomorrow I get to go sailing on one.” She didn’t sound as excited as he thought she would be, so he hugged her and dropped a kiss on her tanned forehead.

“It’ll be okay, honey.”

She pulled away. “I think I’ll go get ready.” She didn’t say anything or even look towards her mother, when she left the room. Mac wanted to call after her, to tell her that he’d see her later. To leave her door unlocked again. Had last night really been the first time he’d touched her like he’d been dreaming of? He’d had every intention of touching her again tonight, like he’d touched her all afternoon… but with this new development he’d have to change his plans. So he just let her go.

Eugenia sniffed and let the door swing shut behind her daughter. Then, turning, she began to clear the table, even taking Mac’s half-filled plate from in front of him. He didn’t mind; with Creel sitting down with them for supper, he hadn’t been in the mood to eat much anyhow. The three of them worked in silence for a while, ferrying dishes down to the kitchen. Finally, Eugenia turned to them with her hands on her hips.

“If we leave tomorrow morning as well, Pearl and I will be able to meet you at Baird’s Cove the following evening.”

“Why would you…”

She interrupted Robert. “I’ve never been, you know. Even when dear Emily was alive.”

“Why
now
, I meant?”

Mac could guess, and didn’t like it when she confirmed it. “I’ll be driving the wagon, of course.” She sighed and began to roll up her sleeves to wash. “Rebecca Beckett is right. I shouldn’t have asked Zeb to risk his life for my gain. There’s nothing unusual about a lady and her companion accepting an invitation to visit the city… we’ll take the barrels to Baird’s Cove.”

“The hell you will.” Mac doubted Eugenia even heard Robert’s muttered objection; the other man was busy filling the basin, trying not to let the older woman see how much her casual plan bothered him. Mac could tell and assumed the reason was much younger, with a gorgeous pair of sky-blue eyes to match her sister’s.

Trying to keep the peace, Mac sighed. “Eugenia, the two of you can’t drive a wagon full of un-tarriffed goods for two days. Not alone.”

“I know.” She crossed the room to stand beside the basin, and gave Robert a significant look before repeating herself. “I know.”

“They’re not going alone.” Robert glared at Mac, as if daring him to object. Mac just shrugged and nodded, agreeing with his partner’s decision.

But Becks’ vehement objection to Zeb’s involvement was no less true for Robert. “And what happens if you’re stopped? If the law blames Robert?”

Eugenia smiled. “I wouldn’t let that happen to Pearl.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? From Robert’s expression, he was as confused by the comment as Mac was. “If we’re stopped, I’ll just explain that everything in those barrels is mine, and I’ll take full responsibility.”

“The
hell
you will.”

She patted Robert’s shoulder and smiled wider. “You’re a good boy, dear.”

Mac managed not to roll his eyes at the way she was
still
trying to manipulate the two of them. Trying? Hell, she
was
manipulating them. He normally hated being controlled like that, but for some reason when she did it, it was only a minor annoyance. Maybe it was because he knew she meant well or suspected that she had his best interest at heart. Maybe it was because she reminded him so much of his own mother, and he respected her for that. Or maybe it was because of that twinkle in her eye that reminded him so much of Becks.

So Mac took pity on Robert, who was still trying to figure out how to respond to a woman a head shorter than him, condescending to him like that. “Eugenia, why don’t you head back upstairs? Robert and I will finish up here.”

She looked around, taking in the piles of dishes and then peered shrewdly at each of them. Shrugging, she bid them goodnight and left the two men alone.

When she was gone, Robert rolled up his own sleeves and started scrubbing the dishes in the basin. Mac took them from him in silence, drying carefully. After long enough, he said, “So.”

Robert grunted, but didn’t look up.

“Pearl?”

“Shut up.”

“There something about Pearl you want to tell me?”

“Shut
up
.”

“Meaning there’s nothin’ about Pearl or nothin’ you want to tell me?”

“
Shut up
.”

Mac watched his best friend—a man he’d once seen lift two brawlers in the same hand to save Mac’s life—impassively washing dinner plates. “She sure is beautiful though, right?”

“And she’s been free her whole life. Never a slave...” He took a deep breath, not looking up from the basin. “You saw her, Mac. She…”
She hated him
. Mac didn’t have to hear Robert say it to know that the man was remembering the look in Pearl’s eyes when she left the table. “Just leave it be.”

Mac remembered the scars the foreman’s whip had left across his friend’s back, the way Robert could stand just about any kind of pain without making a sound, and decided that Robert didn’t deserve any more grief. So Mac just nodded, and changed the subject.

“I’m taking your suggestion.”

“To leave it be?” Robert was still thinking about Pearl.

Mac snorted. “Yeah, but not what you mean. About quitting.”

Slowly, his friend turned to him, brows raised. “The business?”

“The smuggling.” Mac stacked the last of the plates and moved them to the cabinet he’d seen Lola take them from yesterday. “Remember when we talked in Nassau?”

But Robert was outside the back door, pouring the dirty dishwater over the honeysuckle plants. He came back in, lugging the basin, and he looked pleased. “I ain’t gunna say I’m not glad to hear it.”

Mac sighed. “If you’ve hated it all along, why let me make an ass of myself?”

“You were doin’ such a good job, I didn’t want to interfere.” His smile gleamed against dark skin. Mac snorted, and Robert’s smile grew. “Nah, I didn’t hate it. Still don’t. It’s just… it’s ain’t just about us anymore, is it?”

The two of them shared a glance, and Mac sighed again.
What a hell of a day
. “I can’t stand the thought of these people—Beckett people—in danger. I hate the idea that
I
did that to them.”

Robert just nodded. “Good. You should.” Robert hadn’t bothered to roll his sleeves back down, and his bare skin gleamed darkly in the lantern light when he folded his arms across his chest.

“Thanks for the support.” He didn’t bother trying to hide the sarcastic bite to his words, but his friend only shrugged.

“You’re a good man, Mac, but you don’t think things through. You act. You
react
. And now you’re thinkin’ and that’s good.”

Mac’s brows dipped. That was him all right. Always reacting. Now that he saw an outcome of his reaction, he was going to put a stop to it. “All right. So now I’m thinking. And I’m thinkin’ that we quit smuggling altogether. We could find another contact—-and it’d be worth it, because the money’s good—but then someone else would be risking their neck for our profit. So I say we just quit.”

“I agree.”

“We do this one last run, to get the barrels out of Beckett and get the ladies away from Creel. Then we bring ‘em—the barrels, not the ladies—down from Baird’s Cove to the wharf and hand ‘em off to Conklin and tell him we’re done.”

“All right.” Robert nodded, and Mac knew that was all he was going to get out of his taciturn friend.