by Cate Masters
“Let’s hope the good judge shares our opinion.” Liam lit his pipe.
Sam couldn’t sit tying knots today. He grabbed the mop and bucket. At least swabbing the decks would work his muscles and hopefully quiet the nagging thoughts in his head.
The harsh afternoon sun softened to evening light, and Sam allowed himself to rest. He’d worked yesterday’s drink from his system, except for a slight ache in his head. Food and water would remedy that.
“What do you say to some dinner?” He leaned against the rail next to Liam.
His friend stared out over the reef where the ship sat. Several wrecking schooners floated nearby.
“Yes. I suppose we’ve outlived our usefulness here.”
They walked to the grogery and sat at a table. Liam ordered beer. Sam wanted milk. And bread, fried eggs, and pork. His body cried for good food to help it heal the effects of too much alcohol.
After he’d eaten, weariness set in his bones. “I believe I’ll get back to my bed and continue where I left off this morning.”
Smirking, Liam asked, “Will ye be continuing alone?”
Sam pressed his lips together. “Most certainly.”
Liam lowered his voice. “I wasn’t so certain today. I stayed outside, thinking ye might be entertaining someone. I heard ye had a visitor.”
Sam leaned toward him to whisper, “She only helped me to bed. She didn’t stay long enough for anything else.”
A sly smile crept across Liam’s face.
Sam insisted, “It’s true. I don’t want her reputation sullied. Not on my account.”
Liam winked. “Ye’re a true gentleman, Sam.” Disappointment tinged his tone.
Sam chuckled. “Not a willing one. I’d like nothing better than to bed her.”
“What’s stopping ye?”
“I can’t rob her of her virginity.” Much as he’d love to. Much as he dreamed of it.
“And why not? She’ll be gone soon enough. Unless she’s thinking of staying on.”
The thought of Livvie leaving seared his gut like a red hot poker. “No. I don’t expect she would stay.”
“Ye’re awfully disappointed, I see.”
“No,” Sam snapped. He couldn’t bear Liam thinking him so weak.
Liam clucked his tongue. “Sam. Don’t try to fool a fool. I know a lovesick man when I see one.” His intimate tone indicated his acceptance of Sam’s condition, forlorn though he may be.
“Now who’s daft? Lovesick.” Sam forced a chuckle.
Liam’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, ye’re saying ye’re not in love with her?”
“Absolutely not.”
“But ye’d love to bed her.”
“Well, sure. Who wouldn’t?”
“Tis true. You’re not the only one.” His flippant tone belied the trap he set.
Anger boiled to Sam’s surface. “Who else?” He knew all too well. Jacob Preston. The young prig considered himself the cock of the walk. Sam’s fists clenched, wishing he were choking the lad. Ach, it would do no good.
Liam leaned away to study him. “Ah, Sam. The worst kind of fool is the kind who fools himself.” His kindly expression bordered on pity.
“What? No, you’ve got it wrong.” He failed to summon resoluteness.
Liam held up a hand. “I’ll say no more. I can see arguing is of no use.”
“There’s nothing to argue about.” And if there were, Sam wouldn’t argue it with Liam.
His tone fluttering like a sail, Liam said, “Of course. In a few weeks, she’ll be gone. Forgotten. And she’ll forget ye too.”
“Do you think she will?”
Liam grasped his shoulder. “My boy, she will unless ye cause her not to.” He winked and laughed from deep in his throat.
“Aye.” Sam played along, grinning through the stab of pain. Livvie would sail off, without any consideration of him.
Chapter Nineteen
Sam said goodnight to Liam and had every intention of going home. Before he needed sleep, he also required something to quell the restlessness churning within him. He found himself walking toward the residential streets. Toward the Crowell boarding house.
The hour approached nine. Too late to call. He was in no condition, anyway. He should have bathed and freshened his clothing. The stench of two days sweat mingled on him. He hadn’t noticed until now. He must appear no better than a street urchin.
He stood away from the house. A light in the parlor shone, and Mrs. Crowell sat holding an embroidery hoop, working a needle in and out, chattering away. Mr. Crowell read a newspaper in a chair opposite and nodded occasionally, otherwise taking no part in the conversation.
A light upstairs revealed nothing. Frustrated by his inability to locate her, Sam moved on silent feet along the border of the yard. Night had not yet fallen completely, and the lights inside the house would mask his figure well enough. He strained to see the second floor bedrooms in the back of the house. All sat in darkness save one window, where a lace curtain shifted, illuminated by a lamp. Could it be Livvie’s room? She loved to read—
“Sam.”
He froze, only his gaze moved to the back porch. He hadn’t considered she might be outside. “Good evening, Livvie.”
She walked to the rail. “What are you doing here?” Her voice trembled in delight, or perhaps astonishment.
He could only guess what she must be thinking of him. “I wanted to come by to thank you.”
“For what?” She descended the stairs using steps silent as his.
“For your kindness yesterday.” He cringed when she approached and hoped the fragrance of the night air would cover his own foul smell.
She glanced back at the house, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I did nothing. Are you feeling well?”
Embarrassed, he glanced away. “Yes, better, thank you. Please don’t diminish your actions. What you did was certainly not nothing. You went out of your way to help me. I might have lain on the beach all day if you hadn’t come to my rescue.” He shuddered to think how repulsive he must have looked, splayed on the beach, a whiskey bottle his only companion. She must think him disgusting.
“One rescue deserves another in turn. I was merely fulfilling my obligation.”
A pang of disappointment surged through him. “You’ve no obligation to me, Livvie.” Although he meant it to reassure her, the words came out sharper than he intended. He didn’t want her to remain in his company because of some perceived debt. He wanted her to be with him because she wanted to. Because he made her want to.
She drew back and searched his face. “No. I suppose not.” The hurt in her voice surprised him.
He yearned to reach for her, to hold her. Her beauty captivated him, made him feel a pauper to her royalty. If only he’d thought to make himself presentable. She’d surely be repulsed by his poor hygiene.
Mrs. Locke’s whine echoed through the hallway. “Olivia. Where are you?”
Livvie gasped. “Don’t move.” She ran back to the porch and opened the door. “I’m enjoying the cool night air, thank you. Can I do anything for you?”
Mrs. Locke’s wavering tone echoed from within. “No, of course not, dear. I wanted to be sure you hadn’t wandered off.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I may go for a short walk. It’s such a lovely evening.” She glanced at Sam.
His heart skipped a beat. He moved behind a coconut palm in case the biddy should become curious. He hurriedly raked his hands through his hair, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt.
“If you do, take care not to walk too far. I’m turning in for the night. My arthritis has acted up something terrible today.”
The woman’s strained sigh sounded loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Good night.” Livvie waited while the woman shuffled away, before tiptoeing across the porch and down the steps. She crossed the yard. “Quickly. Before she thinks of something else.” She clutched Sam’s arm using both hands.
He
r touch sent a thrill through him. “We’re going for a walk, I take it?”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “You can assure my safety from the rabble.”
“You’re quite safe on these streets. Even at night. Although the people of Key West have their vices, there’s been no murder or other crime on the island. Not since the Seminoles attacked years ago.”
“The Seminole Indians? What happened?” Her wide eyes flashed in the half-darkness.
“You needn’t worry. The Seminoles were driven out in 1840, sixteen years ago. They haven’t returned since. They likely still live on the mainland somewhere.”
“But they attacked people here?” Her voice held less fear than excitement.
“Occasionally, if an encounter went awry. The Seminoles have a different set of rules and customs, and many times people here offended them without realizing. And they’re a very territorial tribe. They slaughtered quite a few of the residents of Indian Key. The military came to their aid. Too late for many.”
“How terrible.”
Sam might have felt a fool telling this to any other woman. In Livvie’s company, his tongue wagged too freely. Her keen curiosity drew it from him. All subjects interested her. Perhaps he could stretch this walk to greater lengths by reciting more history.
“They did us a favor in one way, at least.”
“How so?”
“They ruined Captain Jacob Housman’s business. His dishonest dealings gave us wreckers a bad reputation. He built his own empire on Indian Key, even a warehouse and dry goods store. He bribed customers to inform him first of shipwrecks, even when the delay further endangered the ship.”
“How ironic that he was ruined by the Indians.”
Her deductive skills delighted him.
“Yes, I suppose. Newspaper accounts of his unscrupulous methods turned many northerners against us. Houseman even petitioned for Monroe County to be split, and so the middle and upper Keys became part of Dade County.”
“To what advantage?”
This response surprised him. And thrilled him. She had a fine mind and was not afraid to show it.
“His own. In doing so, he removed himself from the jurisdiction of the Key West wrecking court. He was a shrewd businessman, shrewd in all the worst ways. For nearly twenty years, he skirted the trade laws.”
“If the Seminoles didn’t kill him, what happened to him?”
Sam hesitated before responding. The answer would repulse her, so he kept it brief. And vague, to conceal Housman had been crushed between two boats. “He came to a bad end on a salvage mission. After he died, wreckers were determined to repair our reputation. Some newspaper accounts still get it wrong. Visitors to Key West are always surprised at the tight control judges have over us.”
“Not surprising at all. The law serves those in power, and those in power serve themselves before all else.”
“You’d make an excellent lawyer, Livvie.”
This remark seemed to vex her, and her tone sounded venomous. “If women were allowed to be lawyers.”
Sam had no argument. He’d known quite a few women whose intelligence far surpassed their husbands or brothers, yet their opinions were not valued.
When she spoke again, she sounded wistful. “I should like to have seen a Seminole Indian. At least, from a distance.”
“Yes, we invaded their territory in settling here. They hunted and fished here long before outsiders came. Not only from the northern states. Plenty of Spaniards, Cubans, and Bahamians—the Conchs—lived here before we Americans took over.”
“The Conchs are the very tall ones with the light brown skin? Why come here, when the Bahama islands are so beautiful?”
“Same as us. For the wrecking trade.”
“Incredible. We always hear of the great wilderness out west. Why is there never talk of the wilderness to our south? I never dreamed such a wild paradise existed.”
“Paradise?” He laughed in delight. Few women described Key West in such manner. Most complained of the preponderance of large mosquitoes, the scarcity of social events, and even scarcer opportunities to shop for niceties rather than necessities.
“Yes. Don’t you think it is?”
“Of course I do. It’s why I’m here. But paradise is not without its hazards.”
“But you said the Seminoles were gone.”
“Other dangers remain. Alligators. Scorpions. Sharks. Just to name a few.”
“Alligators?”
“Sometimes fifteen feet long—boasting the longest snout you’ve ever seen. Long enough to swallow a child.”
She gasped. “Oh, my.”
“On other Key islands, panthers prey on deer. And unwitting people.” He hadn’t done so much teasing since his brother was a little boy, quaking in their bed at Sam’s tales. “Ah, I’m talking too much.”
“No, I’m very interested to learn about Key West. Such a strange place, like something in a fairy tale.”
“The place can seem magical.” The creatures were the least magical part of the island. The ever-changing colors of the sky and sea captivated his heart. He could never be happy anywhere else after living here. His work hardly seemed a job, and the freedom of his days was more valuable than any payment. The companionship of his mates equaled that of his family.
“I’ll be sorry to leave.” The husky tone of her voice conveyed the depths of her sorrow.
He wished she hadn’t broken the spell by mentioning it. “When do you go?”
“I should learn soon. I’m in no hurry, really. I’m sure my brother and his wife aren’t either.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I will be a burden to them. They’ll no doubt arrange for me to meet many of New Orleans’ eligible society bachelors.”
He had no doubt bachelors would call on Livvie soon after her arrival, and not at her brother’s bidding. Her dance card would be filled at every ball. Other men would hold her. Try to kiss her.
Imagining it made his blood boil. He found himself unable to rein in his frustration. “Is that what you want? To marry a wealthy gentleman who will provide you shelter and security?”
Her tone sounded every bit as accusatory. “No, it’s not what I want. I have no intention of marrying.”
“Why not?” He couldn’t help himself from challenging her to see what she would say.
Her eyes caught the lamplight of a nearby house. “Happily ever after might be commonplace in fairy tales, but I’ve yet to find proof of its existence in real life.”
“I believe you’re wrong.” He would not accept she spoke from her heart. Before she’d arrived, he might have said the same thing. Now he wanted to believe it, at least.
A blush tinged her cheeks, even in the near-darkness. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a grown man. You’re telling me you think love can last a lifetime?”
“More than one. Were your parents not proof?”
“I told you my mother died long ago.”
“But your father never remarried, did he?”
“No.”
“Is that not proof enough?”
“I refuse to hold onto childish notions.”
“Again, I ask you–why not? Isn’t it exciting to indulge yourself? Doesn’t it make your heart feel as though it’s soaring like a sea bird? Or drifting on the ocean’s swells?”
Her voice wavered. “Yes.”
He said more passionately than he intended, “So there’s no reason to stop.”
A look of resolve smoothed her face. “Not for you. You’re a man.”
“Nonsense. I will not validate your argument that a woman must live by a man’s rules. Don’t you have a head of your own? Desires of your own?”
“Of course, but—”
“If you lived here, you could sail to an island, swim however long you wished, or run along the beach. No one would scold you or challenge you. You would have your own freedom.” He’d never argued anything with more conviction. More hope.
His wo
rds penetrated her deeply, he knew, by her silence, by her reflective nature.
“If only it were so.”
He halted and grasped her arm. “It is, Livvie.” What was he doing? Trying to convince her to stay? She stared up at him in surprise. And expectation.
He released his grip. If she stayed, she would claim his argument had convinced her. And he would be obligated to provide for her. No real freedom existed without obligations. “You can live however you please. You need no one else’s approval.”
She waited, immobile. All they’d left unspoken roiled in the air between them. He could offer her nothing except heartache and disappointment.
He would not lead her to believe otherwise. Yet, he might entice her on other grounds. “Nor do you require anyone’s support. You said you wanted to earn your own living. Where better than here in Key West, where there are no such restrictions?”
The bright expectancy faded from her face. Her nostrils flared, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. “I must return.”
For a moment, he thought she meant to her brother’s house. To civilization.
She held his gaze briefly, abruptly pivoting toward the direction from which they’d come. To the Crowell’s.
Her skirt flounced, she walked so hastily.
“I’ll accompany you.” He followed, unsure of what else to say.
“You needn’t bother. You said it was safe.” Her voice trembled.
He jogged to her side. “Are you angry at me?”
Her pace increased. “No. I’m angry at myself.”
“Why?”Sam hurried to keep up. She had a long stride for a female.
She folded her arms across her chest and walked on. “For entertaining frivolous notions.”
His heart leapt in his chest and struck against his ribs like a trapped bird. “What notions?” He reached for her arm.
She jerked away from his touch. “Oh, stop it, Sam. I’m not going to say any more.”
Her refusal to look at him encouraged him. She cared more than she would admit. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
She knit her brows. “I told you I’m not upset at you.”
“Why do you scold me, then?” He hoped to keep her from going home by engaging her in another argument.