Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Don’t worry, little cousin. I would never let anyone or anything harm you. We’ve always been close, and that’s important to me. Do you realize you’re one of the few people who accepts me as I am? I have to prove myself to others; that’s why it’s so important that I save your father’s company. Uncle
Cam trusted me, so he called me to New Orleans to handle things during his absence. I can’t let him down, Maren. Whatever it takes or costs, his office has to survive and succeed, because of me.”
“It will, Eric. If anyone can do it, you can. Remember that day at the county fair when your father’s horse came up lame and you offered him the one you had trained for months? Your stallion left the others behind during the first lap. He was a winner, like you, Eric. He just needed a lot of care and attention, someone to train him.”
Eric recalled that day. His father had laughed and had refused to listen to him. To prove himself, Eric had entered the horse on his own and it had won easily. Despite Eric’s victory, his father had been displeased because he had lost a great deal of money betting against his own son. It had always been that way between them. Eric said cleverly, “Your father is the only one who believed in me and helped me. I loved and respected Uncle Cam, and I’m sorry he’s gone. I’ve missed him.”
Maren knew her father had been a good influence on many people. Cameron James had been strong, honest, and dependable; but he was also patient, kind, and compassionate. He had possessed traits too many men lacked. “Remember that time when you visited us in New Orleans and Father’s dock crew got roaring drunk at a party? You and I were the ones who stayed up all night to help Papa load the cargo. Papa was so pleased that he paid you double wages, and you used half of your windfall to take me to
Marlow’s to celebrate. We’ve shared a lot of good times, Eric. I’m glad you’ll be in New Orleans to help me get settled. I’m going to miss my parents terribly; we were so close.” Maren shivered apprehensively as she thought of what was before her.
When she began to cry softly, Eric turned her and embraced her. “Let it out, love. Pain hurts too much when you keep it in. No one can defeat us. We’ll both make it. You’ll see.”
“What would I do without you, Eric?” she asked, sobbing in grief.
“You’ll never have to know, little cousin. I promise. James Shipping will survive this war, and you will never want for anything.”
For anything?
Maren’s tormented mind echoed. That would be true if she could have Jared Morgan in her life.
Not far behind the
Martha J
was a ship with sails the color of the horizon and a hull painted to blend into the ocean. Indeed, this frigate was so hard to spot she overtook other ships readily. On the deck of the
Sea Mist,
Captain Jared Morgan, known as the Hawk, leaned against the taffrail on the stern section and contemplated the girl aboard the
Martha J.
It was obvious that the other ship was not heading for Martinique or New Orleans, and since Maren’s image was haunting him day and night, he prayed he would not be forced to blast that “French” ship out of the water.
His own vessel was one hundred and forty feet long, and her crew of one hundred and thirty-four was totally loyal. Constructed of Southern live oak, the
Sea Mist
was outfitted with forty-two guns: twenty-six long-range twelve-pound cannons on the main deck and sixteen short-range twenty-fourpound carronades on the spar deck. Such imposing firepower combined with her swift speed usually persuaded other ships to give quarter without a battle. And a frigate such as this could carry much cargo, which came in handy when raiding enemy ships or delivering supplies. Furthermore, the
Sea Mist
was swift in pursuit, or in flight if the odds were against her.
Jared pulled from his pocket the note one of the
Martha J’
s sailors had slipped to him. He read it again. “Be wary of Slade and Wolfe. See the President about them.” Clearly the sandy-haired man who had sneaked it into his shirt knew who and what he was. But which Slade was he referring to, and what was it that concerned the hazel-eyed man so deeply? Jared wondered. “Damn!” Jared said angrily. He could not destroy the man’s cover just to help a female who had captured his eye!
By Friday, he had to deliver the supplies in the hold to the ship which was to meet him in Jamaica. Fortunately it appeared that the vessel ahead of his was heading in the same direction. A British port…
Mountainous and fragrant Jamaica loomed before
them, inspiring Maren to smile. They were heading for Kingston on the southern side of the island. Captain Canton had told her of the many valuable crops grown and sold in Jamaica—sugarcane, coffee, spices, cacao—and about the exotic birds, tropical fruits, and rare woods to be found there. After enduring weeks in the confining cabin, Maren was eager to go ashore, to experience new sights and sounds, to explore this exotic place, and to sink her feet into silky sand.
The
Martha J
sailed into a natural port late in the afternoon of the second day in June, a beautiful Thursday in a place far removed from the war that ravaged her homeland. A British flag waved proudly from her mast as she dropped anchor, and Maren had seen the captain place the appropriate papers and logbook on his desk, in case the ship was searched by the British authorities.
Now Maren’s dark beauty was enhanced by an off-white promenade dress of Indian muslin with gold cotton embroidery. Its bosom was finely pleated and its sleeves were short and puffed. She had donned matching slippers, but had not dared to wear the dainty gold necklace which was allegedly stolen. Her hair was brushed into waves which settled becomingly on her shoulders. Pleased with her appearance, she smiled at her cousin as he entered the cabin, trailed by Horben Wolfe and Captain Canton.
The three men removed the false wall to retrieve several heavy boxes. When she asked what they contained, not one would say. From their odd
behavior, Maren wondered if they were smuggling illegal goods to this British island. Suddenly she was very curious about what might be in those boxes, and she was confused about why they were being unloaded here. Surely Eric would not turn traitor and hand the gold over to America’s foe… or try to keep it for himself.
Goods were carried ashore by making numerous trips in the quarterboats. But Maren and the special boxes were taken in the longboat with Captain Canton, Eric James, and Horben Wolfe. It was manned by ten rowers, one of whom was Peter Thomas who furtively watched her.
It was nearly dusk when Eric guided Maren to a small hotel on the edge of town. It was surrounded by tropical trees and plants, and Eric promised he would return to have dinner with her as soon as he carried out his business dealings, probably around nine. Having been told they would sail with the second tide on the morrow, Maren knew her time here was limited, so the moment Eric was gone, she left for a stroll.
As she walked toward the beckoning beach, she admired the beauty of the exotic landscape and listened to its particular sounds. Unfamiliar birds of vivid plumages seemed to serenade her as dreamy shadows slowly cloaked the area, and the air was fresh and invigorating. Breezes danced through her long hair, played through the lush greenery and the profusion of colorful flowers. She closed her golden brown eyes to hear the peaceful sounds of the ocean at
low tide. When she opened them, she noticed that everything seemed to be taking on a pearly gray cast. Dusk was near. She had to return to the hotel soon, but not quite yet. She removed her slippers, lifted her hem slightly, and wiggled her toes in the embracing sand. Merry laughter spilled forth then, as pleasure flowed within her.
Maren walked for a time, delighting in the feel of sand against her naked feet, of cool air wafting over her bare arms. She finally halted and leaned against a palm tree with a nature-slanted trunk. She had not felt this calm in a long time, and she wanted to savor the feeling for a while longer. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Don’t you realize how dangerous it is to be out here alone?” the mellow voice chided. “There are countless wild sailors in port tonight.”
Her eyes opened, even though she knew who was there. “I can protect myself. Besides, I was waiting for you,” she jested happily.
Jared slipped a leg over the slanted tree and the woman, his body and her semireclining position imprisoning Maren, but she made no attempt to push him aside or to rise. As his eyes locked with hers, he leaned forward and placed his hands on the trunk above her head. “But who will protect you from me, my hypnotic siren?” he teased. Then his mouth gently but hungrily captured hers. As his weight settled lightly against her, Maren’s arms slid under his and encircled his body. She flattened her palms against the middle of his broad back and urged
him closer.
Jared’s arms banded the tree and he used his hold on it to eliminate any space between them. His mouth greedily ravished hers, and when she encouraged him, his lips sensuously wandered over her face and throat.
Maren responded heatedly and uninhibitedly. “How did you find me?” she murmured hoarsely.
Jared tensed briefly, and she noticed his reaction. He ceased his amorous siege to reply, “You found me. I was the one heading for Jamaica; your ship was supposedly sailing for Martinique. Captain Canton does realize this is a British port and we’re at war with England?”
“Then what are you doing here, my bold privateer?” she asked, trying to shift her pinioned body so the rough bark did not bite more deeply into her tender flesh and create a discomfort she had not noticed earlier. Her action caused her inflamed body to rub intimately against his, stimulating both of them. “I thought you said the British were your enemies. Is it safe for you to be here?”
Jared moved aside so she could alter her awkward position. He watched her stand and straighten her mussed clothing; then he leaned his firm buttocks and the sole of one boot against the sloping tree which she had vacated. “As long as you have the right papers and flags, you can sail anywhere you wish. Isn’t that right, Maren?”
“But you could be in danger if someone recognized you or your ship.”
Jared knew she had intentionally avoided his question. “Would that bother you, Maren?” The way she looked at him, she didn’t have to answer. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “and the same should apply to you.”
“We’re only exchanging goods. We sail tomorrow afternoon,” she said, forgetting he had recently robbed her ship and knew its contents.
“What kind of goods?” he asked. “I may be interested in them.”
“I don’t know; they were boxed.” Too late she realized what she had said.
“Which storehouse are they using?”
“I didn’t hear them mention one. You could come to the hotel to speak with James about it. He’s to return around nine for dinner.” Suddenly Maren noticed how dark it was. “Oh, my,” she fretted. “It’s late. I must return to my room before I get into trouble.”
“Why don’t you have dinner with me… and we’ll have a long talk afterward?” His gaze smoldered, inflaming both of them.
Maren licked her lips. “I wish I could, but I doubt I would be allowed to spend time with the pirate who robbed us a few days ago. In fact, you wouldn’t be safe here if you were spotted.”
They laughed together. “You’re right,” he agreed huskily. “Do you think you can sneak out in the morning? Claim you’re going shopping or strolling? I’d like to spend more time with you, Maren.”
“I’d like to spend more time with you…. Do you
at least have a first name you can share with me? I hate to call you Captain Hawk.”
Moonlight gleamed on the golden streaks in his pale brown hair as he chuckled and pulled her into his embrace. He liked it when she swayed against him and rested her hands on his chest. They gazed at each other for a time; then he remarked, “There’s something unique about you, woman, besides your being the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I guess it’s obvious how much I want you, and it impresses the hell out of me that my desire doesn’t frighten you.”
“I suppose that’s because you strike me in the same way. I’d like to get to know you better, starting with at least one name.”
They exchanged smiles. “Is Jared enough for now?” he asked.
She did not want to be threatening or overly aggressive. She needed to work on him slowly, carefully, mysteriously. She had to concentrate on now, not the distant future. Her eyes glowed as she replied, “Yes, Jared, it’s plenty for now.” He had proven that he wanted to trust her by revealing his real name, although he didn’t know she knew that.
“Will you meet me in the morning? I’m in room ten of your hotel. With this war raging, I don’t know when I can make New Orleans.”
Maren knew the risks and consequences of her response, but she was willing to accept them. “I’ll come to your room as soon as I can sneak away. Do you have any other plans in the morning?”
“Not anymore. I’ll be up by dawn, waiting for you.”
Their eyes fused, then their lips. They clung to each other and kissed urgently, caressing pleading flesh, trying to soothe it.
Suddenly Jared drew away. He was breathing heavily. “If we don’t halt this, I won’t release you on this night.”
“I wish you didn’t have to,” she bravely confessed. “I should get moving or they’ll have a search party out for me.”
Jared couldn’t draw Slade’s attention to him right now, so he reluctantly released her. But more importantly, he did not want a swift, primitive mating with her. “I’ll follow you back at a safe distance. Get away as soon as you can. Our time together is short.”
Maren clasped his face between her hands, drew it down to seal their lips a final time, and kissed him stirringly. “I’ll be there, Jared.” She then scooped up her slippers and raced toward the lighted area at the edge of town. Sneaking in the rear door of the hotel, she hurried to her room. Eric had not yet returned, so she had time to freshen up and change.
When Kerry Osgood returned to Jared’s room, he reported, “I followed them like you ordered, Jared. They took the boxes to a plantation a few miles outside of town. It’s my guess they were locked in the cellar. Whatever was inside was a mighty heavy
secret. I’d say guns or gold, ‘cause it ain’t illegal to sell whiskey.”