Authors: Kat Martin
Morgan gave it to her, his long, powerful strokes thrusting home again and again. When she was sure she could stand the sweet fury no more, fresh waves of pleasure broke over her. Morgan must have felt the grip of her body tightening around him, for his hot seed spilled deep inside her, flooding her with its welcome warmth.
Silver clutched Morgan’s neck, and he held her trembling body.
Love me
, she thought, but didn’t say it. He had come this far. For now it was enough.
They lay quiet for a while, Morgan’s breath slowing until his chest rose and fell with an even, steady beat. Through lowered lashes, she turned to see if he slept but found his eyes open and watching her.
Silver drew a pattern on his chest with her finger. “I was worried about you and the others,” she said. “I wouldn’t have let Buckland in if it weren’t for your meeting with General Canales. I thought something might have happened.”
Releasing a weary sigh, Morgan shoved his hands behind his head. “It looks as though it soon will. Centralist forces are building up outside the city. Attack seems imminent. General Canales will be able to spare only a very few men.”
Silver’s finger stilled. “What about your brother, the men in the prison? Are you still going after them?”
“We leave in the morning. The rest of the Texas forces are moving in to converge with us a little
northwest of the prison. You’ll be returning to the ship. Jeremy Flagg will be in charge, along with a skeleton crew. The rest will go with me.”
“And the
Savannah
… will she be leaving Campeche?”
“If the Centralists overrun the city, I don’t want the ship trapped in the harbor. She’ll move south along the coast, anchor at a set rendezvous point as near the prison as she can get. As soon as the Texians are freed, we’ll join back up with you there.”
He made it sound simple, though she knew it wasn’t. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“So do I.”
Silver leaned down and kissed him. When Morgan’s arms went around her, the kiss turned hot and fiery. They made love with abandon then once more with great tenderness. Finally they slept.
Morgan gently shook her awake before dawn. “You had better pack your things. We’ll be leaving soon.”
Shoving sleep-tangled hair from her face, Silver nodded. Morgan kissed the tip of her nose, then strode back to the bureau and finished getting dressed.
“I’ll see you at breakfast.” He flashed her a last warm smile, his mind already on the task ahead. Lifting the black wrought-iron latch, he pulled open the heavy wooden door and disappeared into the hallway.
With Cecilia’s help, Silver dressed hurriedly in her yellow muslin day dress and headed downstairs. Her bags were brought down and taken outside to the carriage that would return them to the ship. In the dining room, a long narrow affair with molded ceilings and a huge rosewood table seating twenty, Morgan sat to the right of General Canales. Colonel
Buckland sat to his left, and Hamilton Riley sat beside Buckland. All four men came to their feet when Silver appeared in the doorway.
“
Buenos dias
, Senorita Jones,” said the general, who looked nearly as regal as he had the night before. Only the tiny lines of fatigue at the corners of his eyes gave away his worry.
“Good morning, General. Gentlemen.”
“I hope you slept well,” Canales said.
Silver searched his face for a knowing expression but found none. “Yes, General. The room was quite lovely. Thank you.”
Morgan pulled out her chair and seated her beside him, a warm smile playing on his lips. A breakfast of crisp fried potatoes, eggs, which the Mexicans called huevos, and chorizo, a pork sausage made with red chiles, was served with hot corn tortillas and thick black coffee.
The men ate heartily while Silver only picked at the spicy food. She was worried about the fighting that would soon take place, the danger the men would be facing.
“Not hungry, my dear?” Buckland asked with false concern, and it was all Silver could do to force a smile in his direction.
“It’s delicious,” she said, aiming her comments instead to their host. “I’m just a little worried, I guess.”
“We are all a little worried, senorita.”
The meal ended quickly; there was much left to do in readiness for the journey. Everyone said goodbye, Morgan led her out to the waiting carriage, and Hamilton helped her aboard.
“What about your men?” Silver asked Morgan once they had settled inside and were rolling along
the dusty streets. “I thought they were given leave until tomorrow.”
“Leave was canceled last night,” Ham answered for him. “With most of the cantinas near the wharf, they shouldn’t have been difficult to find. I’m sure they’ve all been rounded up by now.”
“My men will be ready,” Buckland vowed. “I hope that scurvy lot from the Indies is set to fight.”
“Jacques will have them ready,” Morgan said. And they were.
All but Farley Weathers, Dickey Green, and Jordan Little.
By the time they reached the ship and discovered the news, they found Jacques looking haggard from his night of searching, his black hair mussed, his clothes wrinkled and dusty. “I ’ave looked for them everywhere. I cannot believe Jordy ’as run away, but—” He shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of despair.
“I’d like a chance to look for them, Colonel,” Morgan said. “Something might have happened.”
The colonel started to say no, then saw Morgan’s determined expression. The major’s request was a mere formality. He was staying, one way or the other.
“I’ll take the men ashore,” the colonel grudgingly conceded with a note of hostility. “We’ll pick up the horses, munitions, and equipment, then head out the eastern entrance to the city.”
“I’ll catch up to you before nightfall,” Morgan promised. “Jacques, you come with me.”
“
Oui, Capitaine.
”
“Mr. Flagg,” Morgan said to the second mate, “is she ready to sail?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Be prepared to make way just as soon as I return.”
“Jordy didn’t run away,” Silver said to Morgan as the others left to complete their assignments. “Let me help you find him.”
“No. Jacques and I will split up, and I’ll hire a few men along the docks to help with the search. We can move faster if we don’t have to worry about you, too.”
“Please, Morgan. There must be something I can do.”
Morgan smiled and touched her cheek. “When you say ‘please, Morgan,’ I think of far different things than searching for a wayward boy.” He gave her a swift, hard kiss. “Stay here till I get back.”
She meant to. She really and truly meant to. But the scruffy little urchin who raced up the gangway changed her mind. He spotted her standing near the rail and rushed up to clutch her skirts. Speaking rapidly in Spanish, he pointed toward the quay. One small dirty hand pressed a folded piece of paper into her palm. Silver opened it quickly.
Dear Silver,
I am in some trouble and need your help. The boy will show you where to find me.
Your friend,
Jordy
P.S. Please don’t tell Captain Trask.
Damn it to hell! Morgan would be furious. But what other choice did she have? Jordy was in trouble. She’d been afraid of that since the moment they
had discovered he was gone. And if he were, Morgan wouldn’t be as forgiving this time.
Two dozen lashes
.
That was what Jordy would receive. And Silver couldn’t bear the thought. “Where is he?” She pointed to the note and then to the quay.
“
Está in la cantina
,” the boy said. “
¡Vamos!
” He tugged at her yellow muslin dress and pointed toward the city.
Silver glanced around. There were only a few men on deck, and Jeremy Flagg had gone below. If Jordy wasn’t far, she could find him and return before anyone noticed she was gone. Jordy could say he hadn’t heard about the canceled leave. No one could fault him for that.
Silver hurried down the gangway, reached the dock, and raced along behind the scruffy little Mexican boy. His clothes were full of holes and so black with dirt it was difficult to tell what color they were. Still, he had a wide, bright smile, and he led her with unerring ease through the crowded streets of the city.
Around them, merchants hawked woven straw hats called
jipijapa
, hammocks made from henequen, and small carved wooden statuettes. The smell of rotting fish, seaweed, and animals—chickens, pigs, and donkeys—filled the air. Silver prayed the cantina would not be far, but as she hurried through the narrow dirt streets, the dock fell away in the distance, and still the boy raced on.
“How much farther?” she asked, knowing full well he didn’t understand but needing a moment to catch her breath.
“
¿Andale! Andate!
” he said, tugging at her hand.
His urgency pressed her on, and she hurried after him. It wasn’t long before they crossed into an even
shabbier section of town, and the boy held open a hide-covered doorway to a small adobe structure that sat off a bit by itself. She could hear the strum of guitars and the boisterous sounds of laughter.
Looking at the run-down condition of the building, at the drunken man passed out beside the door with an open jug of
aguardiente
in his hand, Silver felt a prickle of fear. It was crazy to have come to a place like this alone. Still, if she could help Jordy, the risk would be worth it.
Squaring her shoulders, she let the small boy lead her inside. Instantly the music ceased, and the men in the tavern stopped to stare. Several plump serving women openly gawked, but the boy paid no heed, just led Silver toward a faded red curtain at the back of the room. The floors were earthen, and rafters supported the thatched roof above her head.
Silver stepped behind the curtain. The room was dimly lit by an opening that served as a window high up on the wall. A cornhusk mattress lay in one corner beside a burned-out candle in a battered tin cup. In the opposite corner Jordy, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with fear, huddled on the earthen floor.
“Jordy!” Silver cried, racing to his side. Jordy madly shook his head and strained wildly against his bonds, grunting something behind the gag. Silver’s fingers fumbled with the knot that held the dirty rag in place, trying to work it free. “Damn.” Tearing a nail in her efforts, she continuing to dig at the tight scrap of cloth.
“Well, if it ain’t the major’s woman come to call.” Farley Weathers chuckled softly. Strong fingers bit into Silver’s shoulders, forcing her to stand and spinning her to face him. “Told you she’d come runnin’,” he said to Dickey Green over one beefy shoulder.
“
Mi dinero
, senor,” the small boy urged, holding out a tiny brown hand.
“And a little bit extra for hurryin’, just like I promised.” Stormy dropped several coins into the child’s outstretched palm. He raced away without a backward glance.
“What have you done to Jordy?” Silver faced him squarely.
“He’s just restin’. He’ll be fine.”
“Ye said she’d come, and ye was right as rain.” Dickey Green stepped closer, and Silver felt his bony hand cup her bottom, giving it a not too gentle squeeze. “Ye always was the bright one, Stormy.”
Jerking away from Weathers, Silver whirled toward the little Englishman and slapped him hard across the face.
Farley Weathers laughed aloud. “She’s got spirit, ain’t she? I mean to ride her hard and fast.”
Dickey Green rubbed his cheek, pink with the imprint of her hand. “Ye break her in real good, Stormy. Then I’ll teach the mort a trick er two.”
“Untie Jordy, and get out of our way,” Silver warned, wishing she’d had the good sense to bring a weapon along.
“Ye think we went to all this trouble just to let ye go?” Green asked.
Weathers rubbed his crotch, the back of his calloused hand sprinkled with curly red hairs. “I’m wantin’ this piece, Dickey. I ain’t about to wait till we git outa here. I been watchin’ her sashay around that ship for nigh on three weeks. I’m just achin’ for a little relief, and I mean to take it.”
Silver bolted for the curtained door, but Weathers’s heavy arm whipped around her waist, jerking her up short. “Get away from me,” she warned, feeling a jolt of anger that gave her a shot of
strength. She knew where this was leading, and it wasn’t going to happen!
Silver trounced hard on one of Stormy’s big feet and then the other, scratching and fighting like a woman gone mad. She bit his hand, kicked him in the shins, and punched him as hard as she could. Stormy Weathers cursed her, grimaced at the nails she raked down his cheek, tried to protect his eyes from her slashing clawlike fingers, and finally slapped her so hard she gasped and went crashing down to the floor.
He fell on her in an instant, shoving her down on her stomach, wrenching her arm up behind her back.
“You bloody bastard, let me go!” Silver called him every vile name she could think of, which were too numerous to count.
“I say, Stormy, this un’s no lady.” Dickey Green’s eyes looked bigger than Farley’s. “She deserves whatever she gets, wouldn’t ye say?”
“She’s a salty bitch, that’s for sure. But I mean to tame her.”
Silver struggled anew, but Weathers’s knee in the middle of her back, the heavy weight of his body, and the pressure on her arm stilled her efforts. Pain shot into her shoulder, and Silver fought not to cry out. Tiny pebbles cut her cheek where it pressed against the hard earth floor, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Outside the strains of guitars continued along with the sound of men’s laughter.
Surely someone out there would help her!
But Weathers’s hold on her arm kept her from calling out.
His hand moved over her body, along her back, and over her hips. He squeezed her buttocks, and the bile crept into her throat. Then his hand moved
lower, caught the hem of her dress, and jerked it up to her waist.
“There’s a way to treat a woman like you,” Stormy said. “Let’s ’em know who’s boss right from the start.” Up went her petticoats. She heard Dickey Green’s gleeful laughter and Jordy’s thrashing movements.
Oh, God, don’t let Jordy see this
.
Silver tried to scream for help, but Weathers wrenched her arm even higher. The driving pain silenced her and brought a sweep of nausea.