Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance (36 page)

“Step back!”

“Dammit, woman!” Luke growled, as he pushed Samantha behind him.

Grace opened the door a sliver and yelled through the opening. “If you want me, Roche, you need to let the others go.”

Peering out, moonlight caught several bodies on the ground.
Don’t be Cale
. She prayed.
Please, Lord, don’t let Cale be among the dead
. Because the possibility was real that he was, and the thought was enough to send her rushing from body to body to ensure none were him, she forced her gaze away.

Easing the door a bit further open, she saw a crew of men racing toward the water. She blew out all the breath in her lungs. Roche’s men were retreating. They had a chance, better now than they’d had since the attack had begun.

She clenched her fingers around the door, counted the thumping beats of her heart. Sweat rolled in cold trickles into the neckline of her gown. What if it wasn’t even Roche? What if she’d assumed wrong? Or, what if it was Roche and he said no, that he wouldn’t release the others? She had no other plan and they were out of options. Sure and she’d seen a fair number of men turn tail and run but there was no way to know how many may have stayed behind.

“If you don’t come out, you’ll die,” Roche answered.

Grace blew out a breath. It was Roche and he was close.

“Aye, and so will your child.” The only way this was going to work was to tell him about the babe.

“I know all about the child, Grace. Why do you think I’m here?”

The only person on Roche’s ship who could have told him was Fitch and he would have only told his captain on pain of death. Culpability wanted to weigh her down, but she didn’t have the luxury of wallowing.

Roche cackled. “Don’t worry Grace, I’ll show you the same mercy I showed Fitch.”

“Grace, don’t,” Claire begged from behind. “We’ll think of another way.”

Grace looked back. The smoke was like black blood oozing into the room. Everyone was coughing now. They were going to have to make a move soon, regardless of Roche’s answer.

“Are you going to let the others go without harm or not?” She repeated. Please, she willed him. Please. For the love of God hurry—

“You have my word,” he hollered. “Come out and I’ll grant the others safety.”

Grace tipped her forehead against the wood. They were almost there.

“They come out first. When I see they’ve reached the safety of the trees, when I hear their call that they’re safe, I’ll come out.”

“Grace! You can’t stay in here much longer, the smoke alone—”

She whirled. “I brought this plague on you and I’ll deal with it. You want to save me? Once he gives his word, run fast.” She looked at Nate. “Take them, get them to safety. Please.”

He nodded as he coughed.

“What will it be?” Grace yelled to Roche, missing, as she did, Aidan’s whispered words to Luke.

“Send them out! I’ll not harm them unless you fail to hold up your end of the bargain or unless some of Steele’s men try anything foolish. Hold fire!” He roared, confirming what Grace feared. He wasn’t alone. “If anybody shoots, I’ll have their head.”

Not an empty threat, Grace knew. “They’re coming now!” Again, she faced the people who had taken her as a friend.

She looked at the children, silent tears streaming down their little faces and knew, no matter what else, she was doing the right thing. Like her da before her, she was giving everything in order to protect those she cared about.

“Go, now. Go!”

They did, touching her arm or squeezing her hand as they slipped through the thin opening of the door. Needles of fear jabbed at her as she watched them leave, Samantha carrying one of Blake and Alicia’s boys, Luke carrying one of their daughters in one arm, Carrack’s cage in the other. Helen nearly tripped over her skirt as she and Daniel raced alongside Alicia, who had a wailing Violet in her arms. Blake was there too, arms wide as though to block any shots.

Every step they took toward safety felt an eternity. Grace braced, trembling as she feared Roche would break his word and fire or one of their own would try something rash. For each one that made it into the jungle, Grace knew a sliver of relief. Behind her, the air was warming, and she could feel the talons of the fire reach for her. Having the door open helped her from choking on the smoke, but she knew it was also drawing the fire toward her.

A hand clasped over mouth.

Grace startled. Panic burst through her veins but the hand over her mouth kept her shriek from escaping.

“It’s all right, Grace. It’s only me.”

Her body sagged. ’Twas Aidan. He lowered his hand and stepped from behind her.

“Roche doesn’t know I’m here. Once he moves from the trees, I’ll shoot him.” He lifted his bow to show what he meant.

“Grace, we’re safe!” Nate yelled from the forest.

She glared at Aidan. “They knew you were going to stay behind.”

“I don’t have a wife or a child. It made sense. And he’d have no reason to believe someone would have stayed behind. Now go, before he suspects.”

“’Tis not only Roche out there. He’ll have others.”

“Trust your friends, Grace. Luke, Nate, even Blake have been in many battles. They’re armed. They’ll keep me safe. They’ll keep you safe as well.”

“I never wanted you hurt, not any of you.”

Though Aidan’s eyes were turning red from the smoke, she nonetheless noticed the affection filling them. “None of this is your fault, and we’ll be fine.”

“Even Cale? We don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere, hurt or—”

“He’s strong, Grace. Chances are he’s biding his time, same as we are.”

Grace drew in a breath, choked. She coughed until her eyes watered and then managed to wheeze. “If Roche manages to get me to his ship—”

Aidan shook his head. “He won’t.”

“If he does…” She wiped away a tear. “Tell Cale I’ve never met a finer man in me life and I—” Her voice cracked and it took all her strength to gather it again. “I think his wife was lucky to have him.”

“His wife?” Aidan gaped.

Then, before she lost herself to the heartache threatening to drown her, Grace kissed Aidan’s cheek and stepped out into the night.

N
o! Cale grabbed
onto a nearby trunk, wished he could rip it from its roots, find Roche, the rotten bastard, and slam him across the head with it. He’d done this. He’d made Grace risk her life. Cale had tried to breathe for her as he’d watched the flames climb higher, watched the black smoke billow from the wooden roof. Roche would pay for what he’d done here. As he’d pay for every time he’d struck, hurt, or scared Grace. Then he’d make him hurt more. Just for the sheer pleasure of it.

For now, however, he had to stay put, couldn’t afford to give away his location until he knew Roche’s. He’d heard the man answer Grace and knew he was close. So close Cale could ill afford to make a mistake.

It hadn’t surprised Cale when he’d heard Roche call out for his men to hold fire. Roche was too cunning to be out here alone. He hadn’t attacked without a handful of plans in place. Besides, Cale could feel their presence. The hairs on the back of his neck stood out like quills.

But Roche wasn’t the only one with a plan. Cale had seen everyone flee the house. Everyone but Aidan. While he couldn’t be sure Aidan was inside, he felt he was. Aidan had proved himself wily in the years they’d sailed together and the plan to stay behind was a sound one. He figured the boy was armed and ready, as he suspected Luke and the others were by now. Everyone was waiting for the opportune moment.

Grace stopped a handful of paces away from the house. Cale cast a nervous glance at the sparks shooting from its roof and willed her to move further away. Behind her, the fire roared like a wild beast waking from a long nap.

“I’m here,” she said, her body and voice rigid. “You can come out.”

“I’m not naïve, Grace. You come to me.”

Cale spun to the left. Holy Hell, Roche couldn’t have been more than fifty feet away. But with the darkness and the thick jungle growth, Cale couldn’t see him. Damn his cursed luck, it meant he couldn’t shoot him either. He leaned against a sturdy tree. The pistol he’d taken from Isaac’s body was getting heavier and heavier. It took a concentrated effort to keep his hold on it from slipping. If Roche didn’t make a move soon, Cale would be useless to help.

*

Victory left a
sweet taste in Roche’s mouth. Perhaps he hadn’t anticipated his opponent’s numbers, but his crew had made the best of it, hadn’t they? And hadn’t they still kept to his plan? A good number of his men were heading back to the ship, readying it for sail, and he was confident the dozen he’d specifically ordered to hide remained where they’d been instructed to stay. There would be no saving the treasure, thanks to that miscreant Isaac, but there were more treasures to be had.

He only had one unborn child.

And, he thought with a smile, Grace’s little friends had just stepped where two of his men were hiding. He licked his lips, savoring the moment. Grace was terrified, he could smell her fear over the smoke. It was erotic. His cock stirred, remembering, as he did, just how perfect a scared Grace was beneath him. He’d have her again, moaning and whimpering until he was done with her. Until he had the child.

But that was for later. He had to get her back onto his ship first. Focusing on the task rather than the reward, Roche counted her steps. A few more. Just a few more…

*

Cale balanced on
the balls of his feet. He sucked in short, shallow breaths. She was almost there; it was almost—

It sounded like thunder. In a bright flash, the roof on the back of the house fell in. Flames and sparks hurled skyward. Cale’s stomach launched to his throat. Grace spun and screamed exactly what he was thinking, “Aidan!”

With a violent curse and a smack of vegetation, Roche leapt from cover as shots fired in the trees across the yard.

“Grace, run!” Cale yelled as he lifted his pistol. But Roche was no simpleton and he ran, weaving left to right. Knowing he only had one shot, and unsure he could make it with his weakening strength and a moving target, Cale jammed the pistol in his waistband and charged after Roche.

Men—hopefully theirs—raced out of the trees beyond Grace. But it was too late. Roche, the bastard, had just caught her.

Roche snagged her arm and pulled her in the direction of the estuary.

“I’ve got her,” Cale yelled. “Somebody get Aidan!” As he ran, his eyes on the woman he loved, his thoughts were also on the boy who’d been the closest thing he’d had to family since Catherine and Caden had been taken.

Behind him, gunfire raged on. He ignored the screams, forced himself to run though he was so damn scared he could barely see straight. But then luck swung in his favor as Grace lost her footing and she and Roche staggered. It was all Cale needed. Snarling, he launched himself at Roche. For the second time that night, Cale hit the ground hard.

Pain, black, white, and every color in between, filled his eyes. He was rolled over, pinned underneath something heavy, obviously Roche. The blow wasn’t unexpected but it nonetheless exploded against the side of his head, snapped it to the side.

“Cale!” Grace yelled.

Cale clamped his teeth against the darkness threatening to swallow him. He blinked, struggled to remain conscious even as he tried to buck and wriggle from under Roche’s weight. Each movement brought another lash of agony, brought him closer to the edge.

The cold press of Roche’s pistol against Cale’s forehead stopped him more than the pain.

“The mighty Steele has failed. I only wish I had the time to make you suffer.” Roche pulled back on the hammer.

An arrow suddenly whistled between his and Roche’s face and thwacked into flesh.

Holy hell.

Roche screamed as the pistol slipped from his hand and smacked Cale in the face.

Cale didn’t waste time. Digging deep within himself, he twisted and rolled from underneath his attacker. He lunged for Roche’s pistol but despite the arrow sticking from Roche’s right forearm, the tyrant grabbed it with his left. And once again Cale had a pistol pointed at his head.