Angels, Sinners and Madmen

by Cate Masters

  “I don’t wish to speak of it any more, please.”

  “All right. We’ll walk along in silence. Amiable companions.”

  She snorted.

  “You disagree we’re amiable?”

  “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you? You use words so cleverly, you think you can trip me up.”

  “I would never try to trip you.” Sam hoped his attempt at lightheartedness would lighten her spirit too.

  “If you’re trying to make me admit my feelings to you, you’re wasting your time.”

  “Admit what? I was talking about the love of childish play.”

  “Because you know how much I long to be free. Like you.” Frustration and yearning filled her voice.

  He touched her arm to slow her, ease her mind. “Livvie, you are free. Free to do as you choose.”

  She pulled from his grasp. “There can never be true freedom for any woman, Sam. You’re well aware of the restrictions.”

  “Restrictions of what? Society? We pay no mind to those here, Livvie. We live however we please.”

  She whirled to face him. “Oh, and the women here live however they please also? Do as they wish?”

  “Of course.”

  Her arms flailed, and her words tumbled from her mouth. “Their days aren’t filled by cooking and cleaning and tasks and chores?”

  He softened his voice, hoping his calm would soothe her. “Livvie, any person’s life contains those. How you spend the remainder of your day–who you spend it with–is yours to choose. Anyone has that prerogative.”

  Glaring, she pressed her lips tight and let out a ragged breath. “Good night, Sam.”

  “Good night, Livvie.” He waited until she crossed the yard and climbed the steps. She turned back, hesitating, and light from inside the house illuminated her face. Her lips parted.

  His muscles coiled, ready to spring toward her at the mention of her slightest desire.

  After a moment, she dropped her chin to her chest and went inside.

  His powers of persuasion had failed him. Had he lost his talents as a litigator? He was sure he hadn’t. Yet Livvie deflected his arguments. Perhaps she’d sensed his own hesitation. While his heart yearned to give her everything, his logical brain held back, insisting it was too soon. He could sense her yearning to believe in what he said, yet something held her back.

  Fear. The distance she’d put between them must have been brought on by her fear. Of what? The unknown? Him?

  She had good reason to fear him. If she stayed, he would have her in his bed in a wink. Having no father or brother to protect her, she would come all too willingly.

  And then what?

  His steps halting, he backed away down the street. The parlor light blinked off and the house fell dark except for a light shining from a second floor window.

  A light beckoned him to watch while she undressed, brushed out her long honey-colored hair.

  Oh, he must be careful, or he would become tangled in her web. Such a delicious web it was! But so very sticky, it would entangle him in every way.

  He turned and walked toward his cabin. The night had not intoxicated him beyond all reason. Like Livvie, he was not willing to relinquish his freedom.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a night of much-needed rest, Sam’s mood improved. The ship still hung on the reef, and Jasper and Isum’s absences posed a sore reminder of their fates. The men lingered aboard The Florida, performing needless tasks while awaiting Judge Marvin’s decree. Captain Howe dismissed them. If he harbored any guilt, he hid it well.

  Sam strolled through Conchtown. The afternoon sun blazed in the sky, hanging low like a torch aiming for his skin alone. Jahner sat on his stoop, whistling ‘The Wrecker’s Song’.

  “Are you trying to bring on a storm?” Sam teased. Sailors’ superstitions held strong here. How a whistle could summon a storm, he couldn’t guess, though some swore by it.

  Jahner grinned. “That’s the idea.”

  “I’ll join you, then.” Sam whistled along. He waved and walked on toward the lookout tower.

  From up above, Liam called, “Who’s whistling?”

  “Me.”

  “Stop. Your off-key racket will cause a storm to knock me from my post.”

  “At least you’ll be cooler.” Sam set his foot on the first step.

  “Wait. Before you come up.” Liam moved away from the side and shuffled through things above. He reappeared holding his switchel bag. “Fill this up, will you? I’m dry.” He dropped it.

  Sam snatched it from the air and stepped back. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. An orange or two.”

  Sam chuckled. Liam’s love of oranges caused the crew to tease him, though he was not one to abide teasing. His bad reaction fueled more taunts for a while, but Liam put an end to them by squishing an orange in the face of a taunter.

  Sam strode to the market and purchased three oranges. He could use one himself this hot day. Back at his cabin, he mixed a bath of switchel water from molasses and vinegar. He filled Liam’s switchel bag and his own, went back to the tower and climbed the staircase angled around its long legs.

  He stepped onto the deck of the tower. “What’s the news?”

  “None. No sight of anything interesting. Unless ye count the two in the cabin over there.” Liam turned back toward town and aimed his eyeglass to the homes.

  Sam clucked his tongue. “Liam, I’m surprised at you.”

  Feigning indignation, Liam said, “They should close the shutters if they’re going to undress in the middle of the day.”

  “Maybe they thought being on the second floor protected them from prying eyes.”

  Liam chuckled. “Not while I’m up here.”

  Sam handed the bag to him. “Here. Cool yourself off. Your switchel pouch is looking rather shabby.”

  “Yes, on our next hunting trip, I’m going to find a pelican willing to give up his pouch.” Liam drank, and then smacked his lips.

  “Or a turtle willing to give himself up for dinner.” Sam pulled the core from his orange.

  “Ye have a knack for turtling. A fine eye for hunting too.”

  Sam heaved a relaxed breath. “When I tire of wrecking, that’s what I’ll do. Hunt and fish. Maybe become a sponger.”

  “Not much excitement in sponging, even if the money’s steady. I tell ye, we should buy a nice bit of land to farm.”

  Sam chuckled. “You? A farmer?” They’d had this conversation before, always in jest. These days, Liam argued more forcefully.

  Liam pulled himself straight. “Why, yes. I’ve farming in me blood. I was going to offer you a partnership. I’ll reconsider if yer going to look down on it.”

  “No, I don’t look down on it. Farming’s an excellent idea. It would leave enough time for hunting and turtling. Along with other pursuits.” Sam guessed his friend might spend more than his spare time at the last, and Sam knew with whom.

  Liam held up his pouch in cheers. “My thoughts exactly.” While he drank, he looked Sam over. “Are ye tired of wrecking already?”

  “Not tired, exactly.” Sam leaned on the side. “Restless, I suppose. The excitement has lost its luster. Lately, I feel there’s something missing.”

  Though smiling, Liam groaned. “I think I know what it is.”

  “What?” Sam turned to him in hopes of his friend’s sage insight. He couldn’t put his finger on why he didn’t look forward to salvaging shipwrecks. The pay was good, he loved Key West—its unpredictability, even its ungodly heat. The island satisfied something deep in his soul, yet a yearning remained.

  “A woman, ye fool. A companion to share the good alongside the bad.”

  Sam winced. “I’m not ready to marry.”

  Liam’s shoulder nudged his. “I wager ye’ll change your mind after a certain little lady’s ship arrives to take her away.”

  “What? You’re out of your gourd.”

  “Am I?” He eyed Sam. “I’ve seen the way ye look
at her.”

  “I look at her no differently than anyone else.” Only for a hundred times longer than he looked at other women.

  “Ye look like a lovesick schoolboy whenever she’s near.”

  “You’re insane.” Denying Liam might convince himself, too, but he doubted it.

  Liam sputtered. “I won’t debate that. All I’ll say is, I know what I see.”

  Though Sam tried to laugh it off, he couldn’t. The sight of Livvie made his insides twist. An invisible winch connected him to her; he was drawn in without thought or warning.

  He set his jaw. “I couldn’t be what she needs.”

  “What are ye talking about? Ye’ve all the standard equipment. Ye know how to use it too.” Liam’s elbow nudged Sam’s side.

  “I know that part would be good.” His voice trailed off. “Incredible, in fact.”

  Liam laughed. “So what’s stopping ye?”

  “She needs someone she can depend on. Not someone like me.” He didn’t know if he could trust anyone, even Livvie, to keep safe his heart.

  “No, not someone like ye. You. She’s crazy about ye too.”

  “She’s young and impressionable.”

  Liam cocked his head. “Are ye her uncle? She’s the perfect age. Ripe for the picking.”

  The picking was not the problem. Sam had been more than ready since the moment he saw her beneath the waves. Something clicked into place, shifting the universe slightly. He’d known when his arm encircled her waist that she would fit against him as though molded for him alone.

  Liam leaned in close. “Not every woman is a shrew like Helen.”

  “Every woman I choose seems to be.”

  “Ye can’t let the past stop ye from having what might be very good in your future.”

  “I can’t give myself freely as you do.” Not to someone like Livvie, whose acceptance or rejection mattered too much.

  From down below came another slow whistle.

  “Now who’s trying to raise a storm?” Liam peered over the side. A wide smile crossed his face. “Ah. So it’s you.”

  Sam leaned next to Liam.

  Millie looked up, her hips swaying. Looking down from the tower afforded a generous view of her ample cleavage. “Hello, boys. I thought you might need some company.”

  “Yes, I’m in need of entertaining company. Sam’s boring me to death.”

  Giggling, she disappeared up the stairs.

  Sam turned to Liam. “She can’t come up here.”

  “Why not?” Pursing his lips, Liam screwed up his face like an old biddy.

  “What if she falls?”

  “I’ll keep hold of her.” Liam winked. “I am in need of giving myself freely. It’s been a week. A long week. ”

  Sam flinched as she screeched on her ascent. He bent alongside Liam toward the stair opening. Her breasts shook while she labored upward, lifting her skirt high.

  “Almost there. Are you ready for me?”

  “I’m ready, darlin’.”

  When she came within his grasp, Liam slipped his arm around her, though there was no real need to catch her.

  She squealed. When her feet touched the floor, she swirled in Liam’s hold to face him. “Thank you.”

  Liam widened his eyes. “I will. Soon.”

  On tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his, and then turned to Sam. “Why hello, Sam.”

  “Millie.” Sam went back to his orange, gazing out over the sea.

  Her laughter joined Liam’s throaty chuckles, the smacking sound of lips.

  Sam tried to ignore it, peeling the last section of orange.

  Liam cleared his throat. “Don’t ye have somewhere else yer needed?”

  “Can’t I finish my orange first?”

  “Here, I’ll give ye mine.”

  Sam winced. “No, keep it. Soon it will be all the balls you’ll have remaining.”

  Giving a delighted squeal, Millie slapped Sam’s shoulder. Liam growled, nuzzling her neck. Her eyes pierced his, in them a fire burned for more than Liam.

  Sam pitched the remains of his orange. “All right. Will I see you later at the grogery?”

  Liam grinned. “If I’m not tied up otherwise.”

  Sam held up a hand, not wishing those images to remain in his head. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”

  “Oh, Sam. Never say such a thing.” Millie’s breathy voice matched her smoldering stare.

  Anger flared up. How could she flirt so brazenly while Liam’s fingers inched toward her breasts, and his mouth too? He would never understand the female mind.

  “Don’t forget to come up for air once in awhile to look out.” Squatting, Sam lifted the hatch. “You’re lucky no eyeglass can spy you here.”

  “Exactly.” A gritty chuckle issued from Liam.

  “Bye.” Millie batted her eyes.

  Sam glared at her before climbing down. Footsteps shuffled overhead while he descended. A loud thump shook the tower. She gave a husky laugh, and then more shuffling sounded. Liam’s appreciative groans and her sighing moans carried from above.

  Sam couldn’t help but laugh as their cavorting grew louder, more intense. He smiled at a Conch, who stared wide-eyed at the tower. “Afternoon.”

  The man looked from him to the tower.

  “I wouldn’t go up if I were you. Not for, oh, an hour at least.”

  After a few whiskeys, Liam often boasted of his virility, thrusting lovemaking pointers on an unwilling Sam. According to Liam’s accounts, he took his time both before and after because ladies appreciated his extended affections. Many times, attentions afterward led to a second round–a slower, more deliberate act. It made women feel more appreciated, while making them appreciate him all the more. Their ecstasy was heightened by its very slowness, he said.

  Sam had never felt the need to satiate a woman so thoroughly before, although he certainly thought about applying the method to Livvie. The constancy of those thoughts often necessitated an urgent need to relieve himself. He didn’t. He preferred to allow the delicious ecstasy to build until she herself released it for him.

  After he went to his cabin, the air inside was too still, too hot even for reading.

  The shell basket sat on the floor beside his dresser. Lifting it, he brushed the dust from its sides.

  He’d bought it for her. He should give it to her. Today.

  His heart turned over in his chest thinking of her fingers tracing along the shells, of the basket sitting in her room. A gift to cause her to think of him while she unbuttoned her dress and removed her bloomers.

  A gift was more than a gesture of good will. Such a gift might imply more than a token. She might look at the basket and infer that he held tender feelings for her. He did, somewhat, though not in such a way to pledge himself. He could not let her assume so.

  He set the basket on the floor. The giving required more consideration.

  Raking a hand through his hair, he cast his gaze around the room. Reading would allow him a better perspective. After grabbing a book, he went outside.

  Absorbed in the text, he turned the pages and walked. He found himself at a bench not far from the wharf. A sea breeze riffled the pages, and a small palm tree afforded the spot some shade, in addition to a peaceful view of the street beyond. The sun crept behind the warehouse and offered more relief. The pages flew by, fast as the minutes. Easing across the bench, he brought a foot to its seat and relaxed.

  Wagons creaked by, a few people strolling. Sam took little notice until a figure caught his eye. He squinted past the pages he read to see Livvie strolling toward him. Gazing toward the sea, she may have been searching for her ship to arrive. She lowered her head, and when she lifted it, met his gaze. Her face alighted in a smile.

  A thrill went through him, until he remembered Liam’s words. His description of how she looked at him–and he at her–chilled his reception.

  “Sam. So nice to see you.”

  He rose. He always felt he committed a social blunder in her
presence, though she never showed any prejudice. “Hello. You’re enjoying an afternoon stroll?”

  “I suppose. I couldn’t stay in the house one moment longer.”

  “Would you care to sit?” He sat and brushed sand from the seat beside him. “Sorry, I allowed myself to become a little too comfortable.”

  “Thank you.” She perched next to him. “This is a lovely spot for reading.”

  His hesitation melted in her warmth. “If you need something to read, I’d be happy to lend you a book.”

  Surprise crossed her face while glancing at the book he held. “I’m afraid I don’t have much of a head for legal matters.”

  “I recently received a new book from my brother. I was going to begin reading it after I finished this one. You’re welcome to it.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. We can go get it from my cabin. Or, if you prefer, you can wait here, and I’ll fetch it.”

  “I don’t mind walking. I prefer it, actually. I’m afraid patience is not one of my virtues.”

  “I find it hard to believe you’re lacking in any virtues.”

  A blush colored her cheeks. “You’re too generous. I daresay you don’t know me very well.”

  Her honesty stunned him to silence. No one could ever know another person completely, but not many would admit to their faults so easily.

  They walked to his home conversing idly about the heat.

  “It’s a bit of a mess inside. If you’d rather wait out here, I can fetch it.”

  “I’m acquainted with the state of your cabin.”

  “Yes.” The memory of that night returned vividly when he opened the door.

  * * * *

  Sitting squarely against the center of the wall, the bed loomed large in her vision. Last time she’d been inside the cabin, darkness had obscured most details. Not to mention her own blurred vision. The memory caused her cheeks to flush in warmth. Luckily, Sam busied himself searching through his bookshelf. She noted his fine form, how his wide shoulders tapered to a trim waist atop long legs whose muscles showed through his cotton slacks as he bent. His dark hair curled past the collar of his shirt, so white it contrasted his sun-burnished skin. The urge to undo his shirt and push it past his shoulders overcame her, and she stepped toward him without thinking.