Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides Book 3)

by T. S. Joyce

  I shielded my eyes from the light that sifted through the clouds. They looked only a little darker than the white, fluffy, harmless ones. “How do you know?”

  “Me trick knee’s giving fits. Trust me, miss. It’s coming.”

  “All right, thanks Ewen.”

  A burly man named Waldon Elridge poured over maps with the captain while Dreck pulled and tied ropes with the other men. He glared at me as I passed but I lifted my chin and walked on by. It wasn’t my fault he’d molested his way into a demotion.

  “Cook, I need more food for the wolf.”

  The old man chopped away at a leg of dried, salted beef. “Eggs,” he demanded.

  I handed him the two in my pocket and said, “He’s getting much too skinny. He needs more to live on. Do you have any fish you can spare?”

  He stopped hacking away at the beef and sighed. “I’ll have Ewen try to catch something tonight. Ask me again in the morning.”

  The men burst into a fit of yelling out on deck. Cook dropped the knife and ran, and I followed him in a bewildered haze.

  One of the men clung to the top of the mast. “I see a ship!” he yelled. He bounded down the sails like an exotic monkey and snatched a spying glass from another’s outstretched hand. Faster than I thought possible, he was back in position again. “It’s definitely British and coming in fast.”

  Captain Kelley cursed. The clouds had darkened considerably, like trails of swirling smoke dotting the sky, and he pulled the wheel toward them.

  “We’ll hit the storm head-on,” Dreck warned.

  “The Anna Gale can handle the weather. Can they?”

  “We won’t lose them. It’s only a matter of time,” Cook said quietly.

  “Hide the cargo!” Kelley ordered. His stormy gaze crashed into mine. “Get on below and keep the wolf quiet.”

  Before I’d even reached the ladder, two men pulled away the wooden lip that identified it as an opening. Ewen held a square of wooden planks that fit perfectly over the hole and when I’d gone below, he secured it into place. Stacks of extra sails and wood were thrown on top and blocked the gray light from reaching the hold. The wolf paced frantically, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. His icy blue eyes were drawn time and time again to the plugged opening. A heart-wrenching whine escaped his throat. I knew how he felt, trapped here in the belly of the ship. The gaping mouth, our only escape, had clamped closed to start our slow digestion. The walls creaked inward and threatened to close in on us until we didn’t exist anymore. I drew a ragged gasp of air. What if we suffocated down here in the dark? The wolf’s throat moved as a helpless noise escaped it.

  “We have to be quiet, Wolf. Our lives depend on it.”

  His wet tongue stroked my knuckles and I shrieked and fell backward. I’d been so enthralled with looking at our inability to escape, I hadn’t noticed I’d squatted by the cage and wrapped my fingers around one of the bars. And he’d chosen to lick instead of maul. He lifted his head and lowered it again, like a graceful indecisive dance as he paced. Slowly I stretched my hand toward his cage again. My fingers shook as they reached for the short fur on his muzzle. He leaned through the cage and just as I was about to touch him, the boat rocked dangerously to the side and I tumbled back. The basket of squawking chickens slid across the floor and landed against the farthest wall. The waves above pounded so relentlessly, saltwater sloshed in through the cracks of the ceiling. I hurried to steady the sliding crates.

  My seasickness came back with a vengeance over the next few hours. The ship rolled and groaned and my stomach turned on me while I scurried about, trying to protect the casks and wine. I tied down anything I could with loops of rope and while my knots could use work, they got better with time and effort. I was drenched with briny water and rain that showered down upon me, and my feet sloshed through an inch already. I hadn’t any way to know how many hours we tumbled through the storm, but when the waves finally slowed to a manageable thrashing once again, daylight no longer crept through the planks of the ceiling. I blew out the lantern and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  Men’s raised voices bellowed through the hold and I climbed the stairs and pressed my ear against the damp wood. Sifting through the sounds of wind and drumming boot prints, a man said, “Why, if you have nothing to hide, did you avoid us boarding your ship for the better part of a day?”

  Captain Kelley’s boisterous voice spoke up. “We thought you were pirates.”

  The other man didn’t sound convinced. “And the British flags we were flying didn’t give us away.”

  “There’re British pirates, too. Why have you braved a storm to board our humble ship?”

  “We’re looking for a murderer.”

  “Ahh, fair enough. Men, out of the lot of you, have any of you ever murdered someone else?”

  “Me,” said one, followed by a chorus of ayes. Cheeky thieves.

  The man sighed tiredly. “The one we’re looking for is a woman. Pretty, fair hair, about yay tall.”

  “Is there a reward for her?” Dreck asked.

  “Is her name Florence?” Ewen asked.

  “Betsy? Gertrude?” Kelley asked. “Oh! Brunehilda?”

  “I think we’ll search your boat if you don’t mind.”

  Captain Kelley’s voice sounded poisonous. “Be my guest.”

  I shot a warning glance to the chickens who clucked contentedly in their wicker basket. The wolf had gone preternaturally still. His eyes trained on the hidden opening as if it would open at any moment. I steadied my breathing and clenched my hands to stop them trembling. From the sound of the boots above us, there were a large number of likely armed men looking for me. I sidled closer to the wolf. I couldn’t help it. Nothing else in the dark room offered any comfort. As my eyes adjusted, pale moonlight filtered through the untarred cracks of the ceiling planks. Shadows cast about as the men walked just over my head.

  “Move this out of the way,” the man said. The pile of wood above me made a hollow thunking sound.

  “I think you’ve torn up my boat quite enough, fellows. Best be getting back to your ships before I lose my patience. I’ve been more than accommodating to a band of off duty British officers not even in uniform, don’t you think so, boys?”

  “Aye,” the crew said in unison.

  “This isn’t about bringing in a murderer,” Kelley said. “Now, I don’t know who sent you, but you’ve run down the wrong ship.”

  “If you knew who sent us, you’d understand our need to search every square inch of every ship we can find.”

  “Sounds like your problem.” A gun clicked. “Not ours.”

  The clanging of blades and swords was immediate and the blast of gunfire filled the night. The wolf scratched desperately on the ground near the door as the sails that hid us scraped against the dampened deck. I ran for my hiding place and unsheathed my blade as the door to the storage opened. A handful of men filed down into the room. They were dressed in billowing shirts and dark tanned pants and black leather riding boots that reached their knees. A man with long, blond hair pulled back into a leather band at the nape of his neck headed straight for the back of the room and right past me. The wolf scratched and clawed frantically, digging grooves into the wood by the cage door.

  “Look what we have here,” a short, redheaded man said. He pointed a pistol at the wolf’s head.

  “No!” I screamed. I lunged for him and plunged the knife into his shoulder up to the hilt.

  His hand was a flame as it blasted against my cheek and I hurtled backward. The blond man lifted me by my hair with a cruel smile. “You’re a very valuable little stowaway, Ms. Whitlock.”

  If I wasn’t a lady, I would’ve spat right in his smirking face. He pushed me forward with a painful wrench of my hair and I struggled against him. The wolf snapped and snarled as I passed and in desperation I grabbed onto the bars. He kept pulling my hair but if only I could reach the latch, the wolf would give a distraction.

  I used al
l of my strength to pull myself forward, and I gritted my teeth against the pain of my hair separating from my scalp. My wet fingers found purchase against the slippery iron latch and I pulled with the last of my ability. I’d unlatched it but failed to open the heavy iron door. I watched my salvation slip away until the huge wolf pressed two ferocious paws against the door and shoved it opened like he’d done it a hundred times.

  The long haired man released me and a strangled sound came from his throat. The wolf landed over my felled body with all four paws around me. Just as I thought he’d snap at my face, he launched through the air and landed on my attacker.

  The man with my knife still buried in his shoulder lifted the pistol and I scrambled to him. For lack of any weapons, I bit his leg until my teeth threatened to shatter out of my head. I waited for a kick that didn’t come. I stared dumbfounded as he fell over. I highly doubted my blunt teeth had done that much damage. The sound of gunfire echoed through the room a split moment later and I hunched against the ear-splitting loudness. Captain Kelley stood on the ladder with a look of such elated satisfaction.

  “You finally let the wolf out,” he said.

  The wolf in question was nowhere to be seen. My heart jumped into my throat and I ran for the ladder. “They’ll kill him!”

  Kelley’s hand stopped me from scrambling onto the deck. “He’s glorious, isn’t he?”

  The wolf sailed through the air and landed against a man’s back, and as he used his huge neck muscles to shake him, he tossed him into waiting sword of Ewen. Another man sat on his knees, screaming as he clutched what looked like a bite wound on his forearm. Ralston’s men scattered and threw themselves onto row boats churning in the waters below. Bodies littered the deck and my stomach turned again. It wasn’t from the rolling waves this time, but from the loss of life that seemed to follow me. All of these men would’ve lived if they’d just given up their chase of me.

  Kelley helped me out of the mouth of the ship. The sky was still dotted with storm clouds and the waves were white crested and choppy, tossing the boat like a rag doll. I splayed my legs to keep my balance and my hip screamed from its recent abuse. My cheek throbbed where the man had struck me and it would be a small miracle if all of my gunshot injuries were still closed, but I was alive. The wolf stood over the railing and watched the men flee to their ship. His lips were drawn back in a snarl and lightening cracked across the sky in the distance behind him. The wind caressed his fur until it whipped in all directions and his icy gaze crashed onto mine.

  “Stay still, girl,” Kelley advised before walking away.

  The wolf loped up to me and I closed my eyes as he snuffled his nose against my palm, hip, and stomach. My heart threatened to drum through my chest and my lungs heaved with fear that ran through my veins as thoroughly as blood did. A familiar whine came from his throat as he leaned his shoulder against my side. Gently, I brushed my fingertips through the coarseness of his thick coat.

  We were all right, the wolf and I.

  He didn’t leave my side as I watched the crew bury their dead at sea. Three of the crew was lost to Ralston’s useless vengeance. I hated him. He should have been one of these men he sent to do his dirty work. What a coward he was for letting others die for his own twisted means to an end.

  Cook handed me a mug of ale and I took it back to the hold. Fear and fighting had exhausted me. The cage hung open but I shook my head against it. To the wolf I said, “There’s no going back into the cage now that you’ve tasted freedom.”

  He wouldn’t hurt me. He’d jumped right over my vulnerable body to save me. He was a brave-hearted beast who reminded me of Gable. His being near eased the parts of me that missed him so badly, I couldn’t breathe some days. The animal brought a fraction of the safety I’d felt so long ago when I’d been Gable’s woman.

  The wolf slept under my hammock for the first time that night, and from then on he never strayed from my side. Dreck was graced with a snarl and a snap of the wolf’s teeth if ever he came too close and I lost my fear of being on deck around the crew. He sat loyally beside me as I drew seascapes into my journal.

  The storm had thrown us off course, but not by much. Boston Harbor was attainable after another thirteen days. Captain Kelley assured me it had been one of the easier runs which was baffling. He was in a dangerous line of work, but he seemed to flourish under that kind of pressure. Some men were just born with the calling of adventure in their blood.

  Tomorrow, we would reach Boston. Tomorrow I’d see Gable. Tomorrow I’d never see my wolf again. Tomorrow left a bitter sweet taste in my mouth and a ready tear on my cheek. I’d changed so very much over the last two months. Would anyone I’d known in my old life even recognize the woman I’d become? Would they meet her with a sense of respect or pity?

  The wolf nudged his giant head under my hand and made a low, contented rumble in his throat. I leaned against the railing of the Anna Gale. Waves lapped at the sides. The men worked tirelessly to tar the cracks between wooden deck planks behind me and Captain Kelley whistled a happy tune as he stood stoically behind the wheel.

  Happy moments had been rare since the night I’d lost everything, but here on a ship full of outlaws and thieves with a white wolf at my side, I’d somehow found my way to one.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucianna

  We approached port at night as the Anna Gale likely did any time Captain Kelley needed to load and unload supplies of the not-so-legal nature.

  I gripped the rail and leaned forward for my first glimpse of America. The inlet was congested with dozens of ships, and rowboats dotted the moonlit waters that glistened with a hundred tiny golden orbs.

  “Is it everything you imagined?” Captain Kelley asked as he turned the wheel slightly.

  “I don’t think I’ve imagined it at all.” Relaxing onto the heels of my commoner’s shoes, I pulled on the railing until my arms stretched and the salty sea breeze caressed my neck. “What will become of him?”

  The wolf sat patiently beside me.

  “We’ll crate him and unload him with the whiskey. This is where you get off though. We need the chaos of the dock to hide you. Ewen will escort you in one of the row boats. Are you ready?”

  I swallowed hard and frowned at the dock. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” From the look on Captain Kelley’s face, I surprised him with my hug, but he deserved more than just a goodbye. He’d helped me more than he probably knew. He’d been kind to me, even after he’d lost part of his crew to Bastrop’s vengeance.

  The wolf growled near my leg and Captain Kelley chuckled and patted me roughly on the back. “Safe travels, Rosalind.” He turned on his heel and his boots echoed off the wooden planks of his ship as he disappeared into his quarters.

  I bent down and scratched behind the wolf’s ears, then kissed the soft fur on top of his head. My heart felt like it was breaking all over again. Thickly, I said, “I won’t ever forget you.”

  He didn’t try to follow as I climbed down the rope ladder onto the smaller boat. From the rail, his pale eyes watched me row away. Did he think I was abandoning him? Could he see how much it hurt to leave him behind, not knowing for certain what his fate would be? I wiped a tear away with the back of my hand and ripped my eyes away from him to focus on the choppy waves. The pain was too much.

  My nerves fluttered around in my stomach until surely I’d be sick for the thousandth time in a month and a half. I fastened my bonnet over my pinned hair with shaking fingers. Ewen pulled the boat up to a gargantuan doc and held it steady while I climbed up the narrow ladder.

  He handed the small bag with my journal and other spare trinkets, then gave me a tiny salute. “Good luck to you, miss.”

  I smiled down from my position on my belly. “Good luck to you too, Ewen.”

  The oars splashed rhythmically as he rowed away. Kelley had been right. The dock was exactly the chaos I needed. There were so many crushing bodies, it rendered everyone invisible. Filthy-faced children dodged in an o
ut of the crowd and one of them picked the pocket of a wealthy looking gentleman in front of me. The little bugger smiled at me before he ran away with his wares. I clutched my satchel closer to my chest. The pictures of my brother and wolf were my most prized possessions. I kept my head low and followed the flow of slow moving people from the port.

  “Hey!” a man yelled right beside me.

  I jumped but he wasn’t talking to me. My legs, still used to the rolling waves of the sea, took me this way and that like my bones had disappeared.

  “Watch it!” a young mother with a baby said when I accidentally swayed into her.

  I mumbled my apology and tried to walk straighter, but it was impossible. The bodies were so jammed together there was no space to even move my arms and I felt as if I’d be crushed to nothing without even being able to call out. The smell of sea and unwashed people made my stomach turn as I made my way from the crowd at last. A line of buggies and carriages waited to take people away but every time I tried to hail one, someone beat me to it. I couldn’t keep drawing attention to myself, so before a well-to-do dressed man, who hadn’t been waiting as I had, stepped up to one, I ran for it and climbed inside before him.

  “Well, I never,” he muttered, but I was already handing the driver the money I’d kept safe in my hidden pocket all these weeks.

  I rattled off the address and settled into the cushioned chair as the horse trotted down the winding cobbled streets. Boston couldn’t be judged by its port. The mass of people there took away from the architecture and character of the city. Brick buildings dotted every corner, clean and well taken care of. Quaint houses stood in rows lit by street lanterns. Stores, eateries, hat shops, and highbrow taverns lined roads made melodious by the clomping of shoed horses. A man on stilts lit lanterns on poles high above the streets, and couples strolled down the streets in quiet animation.

  “Whoa,” the driver said as he pulled the horse to a stop in front of a whitewashed home with dark shutters. I scanned the flowerbeds. I bet in the spring they were beautiful. As it stood now, stumps of rose bushes and a scant amount of deep red winter flowers decorated the space in front of a cozy front porch.