They reached their camp, and David set the shell down by the charred wood. “Stay here. I’m going to find Isaac.”
“What?”
“It would be good to know if his shelter is clear across the island or nearby,” he began, then stopped when her confused look remained. He wanted to know if Isaac had weapons. What were his resources? He scratched the side of his jaw, the stubble already starting to grow.
How could he explain his innate distrust of the man to a woman who trusted everyone? “It’s just something I need to do.”
She hurried to their shelter. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, I prefer to go al—”
“You said yourself I should stay close to you until we leave this island.”
He had, but he could move faster and quieter alone. Although she was right. He wouldn’t worry about her as much if she was with him.
Amelia retrieved her stays from the ground inside the hut and began lacing it in place.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want Isaac seeing me in only a shift again. It’s unseemly.”
“We’re on an island in the middle of the Atlantic. I don’t think conventional propriety matters in this case.”
“It matters to me,” she insisted, her fingers still working the laces.
“You’ll be too warm. Besides, I don’t plan to drop in for a visit. I simply want to see where he lives.”
“To spy on him,” she added with a wry twist of her lips as she stepped into an under-petticoat and secured it at her waist.
He let out a long breath. “Yes, I suppose so.”
She donned yet another petticoat, her hands making quick work of securing the ties. “I’ll feel better if I’m dressed appropriately here on out, in case we see Isaac again.”
From the set of her jaw and the conviction in her voice, he knew better than to argue. He waited for her to finish dressing.
Several minutes later, when she’d fully donned her gown and all the accoutrements that went with it, he took her hand and escorted her into the forest. Already a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. Such a pity. He preferred the simple shift to all the frippery she now wore.
Her gown catching on every twig and leaf, she walked beside him, staring at this and that, her mission different from his. “Where do you think Isaac came from?”
He’d pondered the same thing himself. “He’s an escaped slave.”
Her eyes rounded. “Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to. The whip marks on his front and back, the scars on his wrists… He was probably brought by ship to work one of the plantations on these islands.”
“On this island?”
Unlikely. “I haven’t explored this entire place, but it isn’t large enough to sustain a plantation. The forest covers most of the land. Maybe the next island over… In fact, that would explain why a ship would travel there.”
“To transport slaves?”
“That and whatever crop they grow. Tobacco, sugar, or what have you.”
When they reached the pond, he stopped to assess the area. He released her hand and searched for any sign of tracks. The alligator was gone. No surprise there. Isaac had hovered by the alligator as he finished filling his gourds with water. David would have taken it for food himself, if he could have, but he suspected that Isaac would have fought tooth and nail if he’d approached the creature. With Amelia so close by, it hadn’t been worth the risk, no matter their hunger. They’d find some other way to fill their bellies.
Still, if Isaac had dragged the alligator off, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find which direction he’d gone.
“Did your ship ever transport slaves?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Not that I know of.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and a sweet smile curled her lips.
He spied a barely discernible path and waved Amelia to follow. “I wouldn’t think too highly of The Wanderer’s crew. They’re a lazy sort. It’s likely they simply didn’t want to burden themselves with the illness and rebellion that comes with a hold full of people.”
Her smile didn’t dim, and the look she sent his way was pleased. “Well, I’m glad for it.”
Honestly, he was, too. After spending time as a slave himself, he wouldn’t have been able to stomach the thought. No man or woman should have to live as someone’s property.
Isaac had obviously attempted to cover his tracks, and he’d done a fair job. Even so, David found enough signs to follow. As they started down the trail, he lifted his finger to his lips to signal her silence.
It didn’t work.
“I’m curious,” she asked. “What language were you speaking…to Isaac?”
“Malagasy. It’s the language of Madagascar. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much help.”
“Can you teach me?”
“I know very little myself, but I can try, if you can stay silent from here on out.”
She nodded her assent and followed behind, still taking in her surroundings as if on a leisurely stroll.
Although the forest grew thicker, he spotted a movement ahead. He motioned for Amelia to be still. She, of course, came to stand by his side.
“What do you see?” she whispered.
This time, he covered her lips with his hand and shook his head. Isaac had hidden his tracks, which meant he didn’t want to be found. Best to take a peek and be off, before the man realized he had an audience.
David inched forward until Isaac came into view. He squatted by the alligator, his knife cutting into its flesh, slicing off the meat. A sturdy hut half obscured by a tight cluster of trees stood several feet to his right with a fire burning out front. Over the top of the fire, a structure of sticks lashed together held strips of meat hanging out to dry.
Something stirred in the hut, and a woman waddled through the door, her belly distended in pregnancy. Of course. Now he understood Isaac’s show of aggression. He wanted to warn away any possible threat. Amelia grabbed his arm as she, too, noticed the woman now walking toward the fire.
Isaac had said he was alone on the island, not that David could blame the man for lying. A pregnant woman to protect out here in the middle of nowhere—he didn’t envy him one whit. He glanced over at Amelia. The thought of Amelia with child, no midwife or doctor to help her through labor, brought a sick feeling to his gut.
Time to go. He’d seen enough. If they left Isaac and this woman in peace, most likely he’d be no threat to them. David waved Amelia away, and they slowly backed through the brush. Although David detected no sound from their movements, Isaac’s head snapped up. His knife in hand, he rushed toward them.
David stepped forward, placing himself in front of Amelia as Isaac broke through the stand of trees and came to a halt. Surprise flickered over his features before a glare settled in. He hissed out words David didn’t understand, but his deepening frown David couldn’t mistake. Isaac was none too pleased to see them.
…
The furious look on Isaac’s face put a soursop-sized lump in Amelia’s throat. His scowl didn’t soften even when David raised his hands in a display of good will. Isaac yelled in a foreign tongue and swiped his blade before them in warning.
David retreated, nudging her with him, when something rustled the brush behind Isaac, and the woman Amelia had seen come out of the hut moments earlier now peeked from the trees.
“Hello,” Amelia called, half stepping out from behind David, only to have him snatch her arm and haul her back.
Isaac shouted at the woman, a terse command she ignored. “I’m called Ruth. What’s your name?”
Ruth’s accent was unlike anything Amelia had ever heard before. Although she spoke perfect English, her voice had a singsong quality to it that was quite pleasant.
“Amelia,” she answered. “This is David.”
“Good to meet you.” She gestured for them to follow her. “Come. Come.”
The warning in Isaac’s eyes made them hesitate, u
ntil he relented and walked beside Ruth to their camp. He didn’t return to the alligator, but stayed close to Ruth’s side as she sat down by the fire and gestured for Amelia to do the same. David hovered nearby.
“Isaac told me he saw you at the pond.”
Amelia stole a glance at Isaac as he stood behind Ruth, listening intently, although how much he could understand was questionable. “Isaac was very brave. The way he killed that alligator…” She suppressed a shudder at the memory. “Please let him know how thankful we are.”
Ruth looked at Isaac and spoke to him in what Amelia could only assume was his native language. Afterward, Isaac nodded toward Amelia, not exactly friendly, but civil, nevertheless.
It was a start, although the curt gesture did little to defuse the tension in the air. She smiled, hoping that would help. “This is a very nice camp.” The well-built hut must have taken some time to erect. As did the dried gourds, clay pots, and woven baskets. “How long have you been on this island?”
“Most a year,” Ruth replied, her hands smoothing over her belly.
“That long,” Amelia breathed. She couldn’t imagine such a thing.
Ruth’s gaze dipped to the fashionable gown Amelia wore, a stark contrast to Ruth’s simple shirt and skirt, her hair covered by a white handkerchief. Heat rose up Amelia’s neck. Apparently she’d overdressed. Yet, she had nothing else to wear that wouldn’t be indecent. Still, what did it matter? Ruth would be lovely in anything she wore. “Your eyes.” Although Ruth’s skin was almost as dark as Isaac’s, her eyes were the bluest Amelia had ever seen. “They’re extraordinary.”
“How are you here?” Ruth asked, ignoring the compliment, a suspicious glint in her eyes.
“I…” Heat rose to her cheeks. How could she explain how a ship of pirates had cast her out to sea?
“We escaped from a pirate ship,” David spoke up, saving her from the humiliation of telling the tale herself. Bless him.
“Pirate ship? Here?” A look of skepticism wrinkled Ruth’s features, and she spoke to Isaac over her shoulder.
“No.” Amelia assured her. “We used a rowboat to get here. The pirate ship never visited.”
The disbelief never left Ruth’s face. “You rowed to the island from the ocean?”
“Yes, we were lucky enough to come upon this island,” David explained, giving Amelia a wink.
Yes, indeed they had been. “How about you?” she asked Ruth. “Where are you from?”
Ruth didn’t answer. Instead, she spoke to Isaac, who stiffened. One look at the whip marks on his chest and Amelia regretted the question. David’s nudge and shake of the head didn’t help ease her sudden disquiet. “David was also a slave for a time,” she blurted out. If they knew of his experiences…
The cynicism in their stares nearly made her flinch. “It’s true. He has a scar on his lower back.” She turned to him.
Despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded. “I was a slave in Madagascar.”
Ruth and Isaac’s expressions didn’t change. She fanned her face. It seemed this part of the island was even warmer than theirs. The subject must be a difficult one to discuss. She’d try another. “You’ve been here a year, don’t you miss your family?” Then again, if their families were slaves of some sort… Oh, no. “You must be lonely,” she babbled. She pasted a smile into place. “How long before the baby arrives?” How frightening it must be to have no one to help with labor when the time came. Drat! Why couldn’t she find some topic more comforting? “You’ll soon have the island to yourselves again.” Perhaps that would give them relief. “As soon as our boat is fixed, we’ll be rowing to an island not far from here.”
Her spine growing rigid, Ruth studied Amelia as if seeing her in a new light. “Did you come from there?”
“No, I already told you…”
“We should go.” David took Amelia’s arm and pulled her up.
“I do hope we can become friends,” she called out as David led her into the forest.
Ruth’s smile was stiff and wary.
“Velome,” David said to Isaac as the man followed them to the camp’s edge.
“What did you say to him?” Amelia asked as David pulled her along.
“I said, ‘Pardon my companion. She doesn’t know when to stop talking.’”
“With one word?”
He released a long breath. “I said, ‘Good-bye.’”
She stumbled over a clump of dirt in her path. “Did we have to leave in such a rush?” Possibly, if given more time, she would have found some common subject to use as conversation.
“Isaac didn’t want us there.”
“But Ruth was very nice,” she countered.
“Yes—”
“And Isaac helped save my life.”
“True enough.”
“Then the least we can do is try to extend an olive branch,” she insisted, rather wisely, if she did say so herself. She pulled on his hand, ready to return to Ruth and Isaac’s camp. “In fact, if we’re going to the other island, we could offer to bring back supplies for them.”
David tightened his grip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“No more talk of going to the other island. If they are escaped slaves from there, they might fear that we’ll mention them to the plantation owners.”
An outraged gasp escaped. “We’d never do such a thing.”
“They don’t know that,” he argued. “They don’t trust us.” He released her and picked up a tree branch with a large spray of leaves, then swept it back and forth over any trail they might leave behind.
“Apparently we don’t trust them either.”
He shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“We could assure them…” She let that thought fade away. Even she didn’t believe they would be convinced by mere assurances.
“Building trust takes time.” David arched an eyebrow. “Well, maybe not for you.”
She let out a snort. “How amusing you are.” And inordinately cautious. The couple they’d just left weren’t criminals to be feared. Amelia had faced pirates, for goodness’ sake. These two poor people were merely trying to survive, like she and David.
Ruth and Isaac would cause them no trouble. She was sure of it.
Chapter Thirteen
Using a stick, David stirred the melting pine pitch. Its pungent odor was a welcome scent. Once he patched the leak in their boat, they could be on their way with no more worries of what could befall them on this island.
The hard lumps of dried sap dissolved slowly into a thick glue that clung to the sides of the broken conch shell he held over the fire, his hand protected by a palm frond.
Amelia stood in the shallows with a net in her hand. “Where are the God-loving fish?” She bent low and stared into the water. They’d tried catching fish before with no success, but Amelia was determined to try again. He couldn’t blame her. Their food choices had been rather limited.
Her flushed face was a fine sight to see, considering how sick she’d been. Now knowing they weren’t alone on the island, she was dressed in an odd assemblage of shift, gown, and stays, her under-petticoats too cumbersome to wear in the water. A part of him…his brain…appreciated her actions. The view of her pale shift clinging to her curves would inspire thoughts in his head best kept at bay. Another part of him, a part much lower, wished he could have enjoyed that sumptuous view.
David wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his arm. “You might be scaring the fish away. Stand still.” He took in her soaked dress and the water dripping from the lace on her elbow-length sleeves. “I’ve never seen anyone fish like that. Would you like me to bring you a parasol, my lady?”
Other than a slight scrunch of her nose, she ignored the remark. “I’ve searched the shore for what has to be going on two hours. There are no fish.” She scanned the water, her shoulders slumping. “I’m famished.”
She wasn’t the only one.
The p
itch fully melted, he added crushed charred wood and animal droppings, mixing the lot together. They’d explored the forest for hours looking for a beehive. Beeswax would have added greater pliancy to the pitch, but they’d found none. All that effort wasted. Now nearly dusk, they would soon have no light to forage for food. Although they had happened upon one more soursop, his stomach was beyond growling. Perhaps he should have fought Isaac for the alligator.
He glanced at the nymph in the water, her hair curling along her cheeks. Her movements slow as she dragged her dress along, she waded out a little deeper until the water rose to her hips. Her face lit up, and she bent closer to the water’s surface once more. “I see one…no, two fish!” Reaching out, she thrust her net forward. “No! Come back.” She darted to the side, stumbled two paces, and fell into the water.
David leaped to his feet and had already taken a step when she resurfaced. Sputtering, she lifted the net into the air.
He chuckled at the sight. A five inch beast flopped inside the knotted vines. “Well done.”
Out of breath, Amelia struggled to stand, and still she looked like the happiest woman in the world. She radiated joy even as her hair and clothes adhered to her skin. “I can’t believe I caught one.” Her dazzling smile sparked a warmth inside him that had nothing to do with the fire.
He crouched low to tend to his pitch. “Impressive.” And beautiful. Her wet hair glistened in the waning sunlight and dripped along plump lips waiting to be kissed, before draping over bountiful breasts he yearned to… Scalding heat singed his fingertips, and he yanked his hand away. Damn. The leaf had caught fire. He flipped the frond into the sand and chose another to protect his fingers from the heat of the shell.
Amelia trudged to the shore and crossed to the fire, where she tossed her catch to the beach, then frowned. “This won’t be enough for two.” She dripped from head to toe, but paid no heed. He loved that about her, the way she accepted life as it came. No regrets. No objections.
“You should have it.” David forced his attention to the pitch, scraping the sides of the shell. “After all, you were the one who caught it.”
“I’ll catch another.” Her gaze took in the pistol at his side before she returned to the water and waded in. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced his way. “Do you really think the pistol is necessary?”
Beauty's Curse Page 13