The Dangerous Protector

by Janet Chapman

  Willow heard another loud smacking sound. “What do you think, Duncan?” Jason asked, ignoring Jane’s hissed warning to quit kissing her like that. “Do we burn their boat just like they did Gramps’s, and swim to the island?”

  “That’s assuming we’re by an island and not pulled up near a large cargo ship,” Duncan returned.

  Willow wasn’t caring for Jason’s plan, and decided she should probably let him know that. “The water temperature is barely fifty degrees,” she reminded him. “I’m all for doing something, but couldn’t we adjust the plan to sneak off in a raft instead of swim?”

  “Or we could wait for Ray and Frank and your friends,” Jane suggested.

  But Willow could hear Jason already trying to open one of the barrels of cleaning fluid. “I’ll just soak my shirt for a bit of insurance. Whew, that smells strong.”

  “You’re going to burn your hands,” Jane scolded. “Just dip a corner in it, then wrap the soaked corner inside the rest of the shirt. Try not to touch the fluid.”

  The overhead doors suddenly opened toward the back of the boat, flooding the hold with light, and Willow realized it was already after sunrise. Jason quickly scrambled back and sat down, rolling his shirt into a ball and tucking his hands behind his back as if they were tied.

  The guys Graham had referred to as Joe and Mike climbed down into the hold. Mike the jerk really was limping from where Jason had lashed out and kicked him in the office. “End of the line, folks,” he said, walking past Willow toward Duncan. “Time for you to join that crazy old codger who followed this trawler two days ago.”

  Willow couldn’t help herself. “You bastard,” she snarled, stretching her legs out and tripping the jerk, sending him careening face-first into one of the barrels. “He was a defenseless old man!”

  “He wasn’t defenseless when we boarded his boat,” Joe said, kicking her feet back out of the way. “The bastard had a shotgun and put up one hell of a fight.”

  Willow couldn’t imagine why a lobsterman carried a shotgun. “I hope he gut-shot some of you,” she hissed.

  Joe looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “You’re a bloodthirsty thing, ain’t you?” he muttered, stepping around her to help Mike back to his feet.

  Jason and Duncan suddenly exploded into action. Jason wrapped his shirt around Joe’s face, tying it off before the man could do more than yelp, then followed through with a powerful punch to Joe’s unguarded belly. At the same time, Duncan went after Mike in a blur of motion, kicking him in his already sore knee, then following through with an uppercut to Mike’s jaw that hit so hard Willow was sure she heard something break. She only hoped it was the jerk’s face and not Duncan’s knuckles.

  “Come on,” Duncan said, standing Willow on her feet and pulling her toward the bow of the boat. She looked behind her in bewildered awe at Mike and Joe, both lying motionless on the floor. A bare-chested Jason dragged Jane to her feet, but stopped and undid his shirt from around Joe’s face. “Why are we going to the front?” Willow asked, finally giving her attention back to Duncan.

  “There’s a hatch in the bow we can climb through,” he said, stopping at the narrow ladder. “It’s slimy, so be careful. Can ya climb with yar splint?”

  “I’ll make it,” she assured him, grabbing a rung, only to recoil at the feel of fish slime.

  “Nay, I go first,” Duncan said, moving her out of the way. “Jason next, then you. Jane, make sure she makes it up. Push her if ya have to.”

  “I’ll make it,” Willow muttered, watching Duncan climb the ladder until he could reach up and slowly twist the latch. He opened the tiny door just a crack and looked outside.

  “Joe! Come on, man, you’re wasting time!” someone hollered down through the aft cargo doors. “Captain says we got two hours to load, before we lose the tide. Joe! Mike!”

  “Go,” Jason said to Jane and Willow as he rushed back to the main part of the hold. He grabbed one of the stacked crates and pulled it down so that it smashed on the floor. It broke open on impact, pluming the powered fertilizer into a noxious cloud that filled the hold, dusted Joe and Mike, and obscured Jason. “There’s been an accident down here!” Jason hollered toward the aft hatch. “One of the crates fell!”

  That said, he turned and ran forward to Jane and Willow. “Get up the ladder,” he growled, grabbing Willow by the waist and lifting her up past several rungs.

  Duncan was already topside, and he reached down and took hold of Willow’s good hand the moment she reached the top. He pulled her out and immediately pushed her toward the large winch that held the anchor line, shoving her down behind it. “Stay put,” he said, looking around and then going back to the hatch.

  He pulled Jane out and pushed her toward Willow, then started creeping to the wheelhouse, crouched low and watching toward the rear of the boat. Willow could see four men, all shouting, as two of them scrambled down into the belly of the boat, past the softly billowing white dust.

  Jason still hadn’t emerged from the hold yet.

  “Einstein!” he called from below.

  Jane and Willow ran over and peered down the small hatch.

  “Are we by an island?” he asked, looking up through the white haze he’d created. “How far away?”

  Jane looked starboard, then back down at him. “Maybe two hundred fifty, three hundred yards,” she told him.

  He suddenly grinned up at her. “Get ready to jump.”

  “No!” Jane shouted as he disappeared back into the cloud.

  Duncan pulled them both away from the hatch. “It’s now or never, ladies,” he said, dragging them toward the rail of the boat. He shoved a life vest into Jane’s hands. “I only found one. Share it.”

  “This is suicide,” Jane told him. “They’ll come to the island and kill us there.”

  “They’ll be too busy saving their own necks,” he said. “Wait for us. We jump together.”

  A sudden, violent whoosh! came from the back of the boat. The shouting stopped for the merest of seconds, then suddenly started again with a new sense of urgency as flames shot out of the back cargo hold.

  Jason still hadn’t appeared.

  “Look. It’s The Corncobb Lady!” Jane shouted, pointing off the port stern. “They’re coming for us!”

  Willow looked at where she was pointing and almost wept in relief. The beautiful lobster boat was plowing through the water at full throttle, close enough now that she could see Kee and Luke and Camden leaning past the wheelhouse on one side and Frank Porter and Ahab standing toward the back of the boat, doing something with what looked like a life raft capsule.

  “We have to jump now,” Duncan said, suddenly right beside her. “This tub is going to blow.”

  “But Jason.”

  “I’m here!” he said, running to join them, having to snag Jane on the way by, because she had been shouting down the hatch for him to hurry up. “I had to wait until they hauled Mike and Joe topside before I started the fire toward the back.” His grin slashed white inside his blackened face. “You were right, Einstein. It’s highly combustible.”

  Willow noticed Jason was missing part of one eyebrow, and one side of his hair was considerably shorter than the other. Jane punched him in the arm. “You idiot,” she snapped.

  In response, Jason swept Jane into his arms, walked to the side of the boat, and threw her off—grinning down until her shout of outrage ended abruptly with a splash. Then he very gallantly jumped in after her.

  Willow looked to the stern and saw the crew suddenly realize they should probably abandon ship as well. She looked back at The Corncobb Lady just in time to see Frank and Ahab toss the raft capsule overboard as they neared the furiously swimming crew. Ray cut the throttle and came to an idle, the momentum carrying them closer to Jane and Jason.

  There was a muted explosion below that shuddered the boat.

  “Are ya thinking that if ya wait long enough, the water will warm up?” Duncan asked, nudging Willow to the rail. “We need to go no
w, counselor.”

  “I—I haven’t been in the water since my kayak was rammed two years ago.”

  “Ah, lass. It’s just like riding a bike,” he said, lifting her legs over the side so that she was perched on the railing. She clung to it in a death grip and stared down into the water. “I promise not to push ya off,” he said, climbing over the rail until he was perched beside her. “But ya must take a leap of faith with me, lass, and trust I’ll be right here beside ya. Tuck yar splint up to yar chest and protect it with yar good hand. On three, we jump together, okay?”

  She could feel the heat of the fire at her back, the stormy inferno roaring acrid smoke around them as she watched Jane and Jason being pulled aboard The Corncobb Lady. She looked over at Duncan and smiled. “I’ll jump with you, Dunky. All the way. Forever.”

  He stared at her for several heartbeats, apparently trying to assess her sudden smile, then nodded and started counting. “One. Two. Three!”

  Without hesitation, Willow pushed off, clutching her hand to her chest and screaming curses the whole way down.

  Even though she knew it was going to be cold, the shock of hitting the frigid water felt like a million tiny needles piercing her skin. She sank farther than she was expecting to, but strong hands grabbed her waist and pushed her back up. She broke the surface with another scream, this one directed at the sea itself.

  Duncan surfaced with her, laughing through his own shout of shock. He took hold of her good hand and started towing her toward The Corncobb Lady. “Just turn on yar back and kick,” he instructed. “And keep cursing so I know ya’re still breathing.”

  There was a sudden, violent explosion deep in the belly of the trawler. Duncan dove, pulling Willow with him to avoid the initial percussion. They surfaced seconds later, and he turned her toward him. “Again,” he said as the billowing fireball rose above them. “Ya have to stay under the whole time the debris falls. Understand?” he shouted over the roaring inferno, taking a deep breath and pulling her down before she had time barely to fill her own lungs, much less answer him.

  Hot twisted metal, some of the chunks the size of furniture, bombarded the water just over their heads, sizzling on impact and sounding like muted cannons going off around them. Duncan pulled her deeper, until Willow thought her eardrums would burst. She clawed and twisted toward the surface, but he wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her utterly still, clinging to her like a second leaden skin.

  The man seemed determined to save her life, so Willow decided she should probably let him. She stopped struggling, and together they slowly sank into the cold depths, the firestorm of deadly missiles continuing to rain over their heads and around them.

  The barrage finally subsided, and Duncan kicked furiously, jetting them upward until they broke the surface, this time with Willow directing her sputtering curses at him.

  And again he laughed as he filled his lungs with air. “Aye, ya can’t be too drowned if ya can still cuss like a sailor,” he said as he continued pulling her toward The Corncobb Lady.

  Frank and Ahab were furiously putting out tiny fires from the fallen debris. Kee and Luke were reaching over the side, waiting to pull them aboard, and Camden was wrapping a half-naked Jane in his coat, then taking off his sweater and giving it to Jason. Willow’s teeth were chattering hard enough to crack by the time they reached the boat. Kee stretched down to take hold of her under the arms, and Duncan lifted her out of the water to him. Luke caught her thighs and finished pulling her over the side. Willow plopped down on the deck like a beached whale, gasping for breath while cussing at Jason at the same time.

  But Jane beat her to it. “Did the fumes rot your brain?” Jane shouted at Jason, her chattering ruining her anger. “Why in hell did you ignite that cargo?”

  “To create a diversion,” Jason said, turning to smile at Duncan as he came over the side and fell beside Willow. Jason leaned over and wrapped his arm around Jane. “We decided we needed something big enough to panic the crew and create lots of chaos. And we decided we’d rather deal with flames than dodge bullets.” He then gave Jane a big, noisy kiss on her pale white forehead, quickly capturing her hand when she took a swing at his midsection. “It worked, Einstein. I didn’t hear one gunshot.”

  “Only because the explosion deafened us,” she growled back, tugging her hand free. “You came close to killing us.”

  “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” he said, turning her until her face was buried in his chest. He covered her head with his broad hand and cuddled her shivering body close, his lips moving across her wet hair. “You did good, Einstein. You can cover my back anytime.”

  Willow turned away from watching them, only to find Duncan had already stripped down to his boxer shorts and was putting on Kee’s jacket. “Strip off, counselor,” he said, taking the blanket Kee handed him and coming over to her. “You’ll warm up as soon as ya get out of those wet clothes.”

  Ray was idling The Corncobb Lady away from the burning wreckage while carefully dodging floating debris. Willow pulled off her own sweater, and Duncan held up the blanket to give her privacy while she finished stripping down to her bra and panties. He then wrapped her up in the blanket, sat down, and cuddled her on his lap.

  “Hey, wait!” Frank shouted from the bow. “What’s that?”

  Everyone looked in the direction Frank was pointing. Willow saw the island, but nothing else.

  “There, on the beach,” Frank said. “Ray, hand me the binoculars.”

  Ray took the boat out of gear, found the binoculars on the shelf by the wheel, handed them to Camden, who then handed them to Frank over the roof of the wheelhouse. Frank stood with his feet spread for balance on the front bow and focused the glasses on the island. “My God,” Frank shouted. “It’s Gramps!”

  “What?” Willow said with a gasp, scrambling off Duncan’s lap. “Are you sure?”

  “The old bastard’s waving at us,” Frank said, his voice choked with emotion. “It’s Cecil. He’s alive!”

  Ray turned the wheel, heading The Corncobb Lady toward the island, sounding his horn to let Gramps know they’d spotted him. Frank climbed down to the deck, handed the binoculars back to Camden, and came over and hugged Willow. “He’s alive,” he whispered, reaching out to include Jane in his hug when she ran over. “That crazy old bastard is alive.”

  Willow couldn’t bring herself to point out to Frank that he was only maybe seven or eight years younger than Gramps.

  Frank turned to Ray, still keeping his arms around Willow and Jane, who were both busy keeping their blankets around themselves. “This is Pink Rock Island. There’s a steep-sloping bank of gravel on the east side where you can beach her,” he told Ray. “Just watch out for the ledge on the right.”

  Ray throttled forward and headed alongside the small pink granite island covered with pines. Willow looked back at the burning trawler, wondering if everyone else got off the boat okay. “What happened to the crew?” she asked, ducking out from under Frank’s arm and going over to Duncan. “Are they swimming to the island?”

  “Nay, they’re in the life raft Frank threw them,” he said, pointing about three hundred yards past the trawler.

  Willow could see the fluorescent orange life raft bobbing on the waves, part of it singed black and another part half deflated, obviously burned by the debris. She could also see several men with their arms hanging over the side, furiously paddling toward the island.

  They weren’t making much headway against the outgoing tide.

  “We contacted the Coast Guard when we left Trunk Harbor,” Kee said, also watching the raft. “We’ll call them again and explain what happened. They can pick up the trawler crew.” He turned back and watched Gramps making his way along the shore to where they were going to beach the boat. “Maybe we’ll let them drift a day or two before we let the Coast Guard know their exact location. We’ll see what Gramps thinks of that idea.”

  “Ah…how come they didn’t just let him go
down with his boat?” Willow asked in a whisper. “Wouldn’t he have been a witness?”

  Duncan held her close. “Murderers are a different breed from common criminals, counselor. And murder by committee is a hard thing to get a unanimous vote on, especially if there’s an alternative. Simmons said he was only trying to buy a few more days, until he could sign those papers of sale.” He shrugged, shrugging her with him. “It was easier to just stash Gramps on the island and call in his location later.”

  “A gang of crooks with a conscience?” Willow asked, smiling up at Duncan.

  “Aye,” he said, kissing the tip of her still shivering nose. “Thank ya for trusting me enough to jump. And for not fighting me underwater.”

  She turned inside his embrace, wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed his sweater right over his heart. She looked up with another brilliant smile. “Thank you for trusting me to trust you,” she told him back, squeezing him tightly when he gave her a confused look. “How come you gave Ben Zane your blessing to court Molly?”

  If possible, Duncan looked even more confounded. “What brought this up?” he asked.

  Willow shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Just something that’s been bugging me. We left right after you gave Ben your blessing with Molly. How come you did that?”

  “Because he came all this way with the best of intentions, and he deserves the right to try courting a lass he thinks he might fancy. He’s obviously too young for Molly; she’ll have him wrapped around her little finger within a month. But then, I’d give my blessing to anyone brave enough to saddle themselves with my sister. I gave it to Luke, too.”

  “You what?”

  Duncan nodded. “He asked just before Mother arrived if I would mind if he fell in love with my sister.”

  The boat jerked to a sudden stop, and Duncan held Willow steady as Frank powered The Corncobb Lady onto the gravel bar in the tiny cove of the small island, Ray having given over the wheel to the man of experience.