By the time the youngest were changed and dry, and their mothers were once again downstairs, Samantha had all the adults gathered in the parlor. The sun was disappearing behind the trees when Samantha poured wine and Aidan passed around the glasses.
“I wanted to have this moment, just us, to toast my husband’s birthday. To Luke, the love of my life.” Samantha raised her glass.
“To Luke.” While the rest of them sipped, Luke curled an arm around Samantha’s waist and pulled her close. He whispered something only Samantha could hear but her flush was for all to see. Then, sweeping in, Luke gave her a smacking kiss.
They were grinning at each other when they drew apart. Grace ventured a glance Cale’s way. He wasn’t grinning but his gaze held much the same intensity Luke’s did and Claire’s earlier words ran through Grace’s mind. Could she truly be so lucky?
Samantha then took both her glass and Luke’s and set them down.
“Besides the toast, I also wanted you all here when I gave Luke his present.” She took Luke’s hands within hers. “Luke, you’ve given me everything I could ever want and more than I dared dreamed of. I love you with my entire heart, my very soul. I’ve always wished I could show you just how much. And now,” she said, placing his hands on her belly where she covered them with her own, “I finally can.”
It was as though time slowed. Luke went completely still. Claire reached for Nate, leaned into him as he wound an arm around her waist. Alicia, with little Violet snug in her arm, had tears in her eyes as she gazed upon her sister. Blake moved behind Alicia and wrapped both her and Violet in his arms. Aidan, standing next to Luke, looked from both Luke to Samantha. There was a sheen in his eyes as well.
Grace remembered Cale’s look of horror when he’d learned she was with child but there wasn’t a hint of it in his eyes now. They were warm when they shifted from Samantha to Grace and, yet again, she wondered just what it meant.
“Luke?” Samantha asked, her voice trembling, when he continued to remain quiet.
“Are you sure?” Luke’s voice rasped with emotion.
“I went to see a midwife. Twice. I’ve suspected for a time.”
“You never said a word.”
Samantha’s voice shook. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed if it happened I wasn’t.”
Luke shook his head. “You could never disappoint me, luv. Never.” Then, finally, his lips curved beneath his mustache, his good eye blazed with happiness. “I’m going to be a father.”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be a mother.”
Samantha nodded. “Yes.”
“It’s about bloody time.” He cheered, before sweeping his wife into an embrace.
While applause erupted around them, Grace wound her way to Cale. “Speaking of time?”
Taking her hand, he led her further from the group circling Samantha and Luke. “I can’t. I still need to…” He blew out a frustrated breath. “There’s something I have to do first, Grace. I’d hoped to have done so already but Nate’s kept me busy. It won’t be much longer, I promise.”
Cale left her side and Grace watched him take Nate aside. They spoke with their heads bowed close and when they straightened, Nate slapped a hand on Cale’s shoulder, nodded solemnly. Then, with a jerk of his head to Blake, the three men stepped from the room.
Grace had no idea what Cale was doing, but she knew he was a man of his word. If he said he’d be back then he would. And they would talk.
Good or bad, she was going to have to wait a little longer.
*
It shamed him he’d never been here before. Not long after Nate and Blake had browbeaten him to be Steele, they’d told him Vincent had been laid to rest near Nate’s house. It was more than Cale had wanted to know. He hadn’t wanted to be faced with such a stark truth as looking down at his brother’s grave and knowing no matter what he did or what he said he was too late.
He’d seen the disappointment on their faces when he’d told them he wasn’t interested in a graveside visit. He knew by the looks Nate shot him each time he left without asking the exact location of the grave he was letting them all down.
Stepping from the well-cleared and obviously well-traveled path to the intimate circle where his brother lay, Cale whistled low. They hadn’t simply buried Vincent; they’d made him a shrine.
Red and white hibiscus bordered the jungle that was neatly kept from encroaching by a low, white fence. The stumps left from the trees they must have had to cut in order to lay Vincent there had been carved out and planted with bright yellow flowers. Above the grave itself, the neatly trimmed vegetation was vivid as any emerald Cale had ever seen.
A marker had been fashioned to pay tribute. It was an intricate steel creation in the form of a ship with Vincent’s name etched onto the hull. A bench had even been set, encouraging the visitor to stay and sit a while.
Opposite the marker another path had been cleared of vegetation and allowed an unobstructed view of the sea. Vincent had been well loved; it was evident by his burial. Nate and Blake couldn’t have possibly done all of this prior to burying Vincent, but they’d clearly taken the time to do so since. They hadn’t forgotten their friend.
It was past time he did the same for his brother.
Cale sat on the bench while words spun through his mind. Several times he opened his mouth to speak only to snap his teeth closed. Nothing sounded right in his head. Should he say hello? Or start with the fact he was sorry? Maybe he should explain why it had taken so long to come to his senses?
Damn it, he’d just pick a place.
“Vincent, it’s Cale. I know.” He shook his head ruefully. “It’s about time. No, it’s past time and I’m sorry for it. In fact, I’m sorry for a lot of things. I was selfish. It really is as simple as that. I was embarrassed by your size and instead of accepting our differences, I shunned you.” Cale took a deep breath; found the words weren’t so hard to come by after all. “I’m ashamed of myself. You didn’t deserve what I did to you, and who was I to think I was better because I was taller? I’ve obviously proven over the years I wasn’t and hearing your friends speak of you, it’s clear to me who the better man was.
“You were well-loved and for that I’m thankful. I know it’s selfish of me, again, but I would hate to think everyone treated you as I did. I’m grateful others saw past your height to your true worth. I’m sorry I wasn’t willing to.
“I’ve wasted my chance to get to know you but I have every intention of learning about you through Nate and Blake. They miss you. I see it in their eyes. And this fancy marker you have here? Clearly, Alicia or Blake fashioned it for you. Considering you wanted to be Steele, I think you’d appreciate the ship on it, as you’d appreciate the view to the ocean they’ve carved for you.”
He hung his head between his bent knees. He’d wasted so much time. He’d been too late for Vincent, for Catherine and Caden. But he wouldn’t be for Grace. Wouldn’t be for himself. Not again. This time, he’d seize what he had before he lost it.
“You’d like Grace,” Cale continued aloud as though Vincent had followed his thoughts. “She’s Irish and has a sharp mind to go with her sharp tongue. She’s helped me see what I’ve been missing, helped me to understand what happened to Catherine and Caden was out of my control. Grace believes in me, Vincent. When I told her about you, she said you would have understood, how you wouldn’t want me to keep punishing myself over how I treated you.”
Cale lifted his shoulders, dropped them on a sigh. “I hope it’s true. I would like to think you wouldn’t resent me going on with my life, which is what I intend to do.” A sad smile crossed his lips. “You couldn’t have known when you wanted me to be Steele it would bring me exactly what I needed, but it did. And because it did I’ll be forever in your debt. Being Steele allowed me the chance to get to know your friends. My friends now as well.” Emotion gurgled in Cale’s throat. “You’ll never know the gift you gave me, but I won’t forget it, Vincent. And I�
��ll never forget you.”
He knelt down beside the mound of earth, reached inside his shirt and pulled off the leather necklace. Cupping it in his hand he pictured Catherine and Caden. He thought the tears filling his eyes a fitting tribute. Raising the simple leather strip, he pressed the angel to his lips. Then, setting it gently aside, he used his knife to dig a small hole beside Vincent’s grave.
“You’ll always be in my heart. I wish you all peace.” Cale lowered the necklace into the hole, covered it, and bowed his head. “Take care of each other.”
He was coming to his feet when a sneering voice cut through the silence. “A shame you didn’t show me the same compassion.”
Cale’s head jerked. Dread crawled up his spine as he realized he was practically unarmed and completely at this man’s mercy. A man he thought he’d never see again. A man who’d vowed revenge. A man who had a pistol pointed at his chest.
“Isaac.”
“In the flesh. Are you not going to ask how I got here?”
Hell, Cale was scared to ask. “How?”
Isaac’s eyes gleamed. “With Roche.”
Cale went still. “Roche is here?”
“And I don’t think I need to tell you what he’s after. It’s a pity you made yourself all pretty for Grace. Once Roche is through, there won’t be anything left of her.”
Bile scorched up Cale’s throat. He knew what Roche was capable of and if he got a hold of Grace… Cale swallowed back the fear. He could not afford to be scared. Nor could he afford to be rash. While he had the knife, if he tried to throw it he’d be dead before the blade could leave his hands. Just as he knew Isaac wouldn’t let him get close enough to use it. The best chance he had to get to Grace in time was to keep a level head and form a plan. Quick.
“Whatever Roche promised you for leading him here, I’ll double. You know we have the treasure, it’s yours, all of it, as long as you let me go.”
“Do you truly think I’d take your word after what you did to me?” There was nothing but raw hatred in his voice. “You humiliated me and left me to die, it’s not your word I want or need.”
Cale took a slow step back. He wasn’t so far from the bush that if he could only distract Isaac, he’d have a chance at escaping. “What is it you want, then?”
“To watch you die.”
Isaac drew back on the hammer and the click was as loud to Cale as cannon fire. Out of time, he went with the only weapon he had, a ruse. Cale glanced over Isaac’s shoulder, widened his eyes and yelled, “Shoot him!”
Isaac spun. Knowing this was his only chance, Cale twisted and leapt over the bench. He was midair when the shot exploded through the darkness and ripped into his side.
Chapter Nineteen
“I’ve never seen you look happier.”
Sam leaned her head on Aidan’s shoulder. “I’ve never been this happy before. I thought the day I married Luke was the best day of my life, but this, Aidan…” She looked at him, her face glowing with joy. “This is indescribable.”
“You’ve suffered, watching Alicia and Claire have children.”
She shrugged as though it didn’t matter, but Aidan knew it did. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, seen her wipe a tear when she thought nobody was looking. He wasn’t a religious man, but he’d prayed for her many times, had begged God, or the gods, for her to have a family of her own.
“Luke’s going to regret all that rum come morning.” Aidan chuckled.
“I’m sure he will,” she agreed good-naturedly.
Then he heard her sigh when Luke looked over a half-empty bottle toward Sam and stopped to stare. Despite the tall, crackling fire, the booming conversations, and the delighted squeals of children playing amidst the adults, and despite the fact neither of them said a word, Aidan swore they spoke. Then Luke winked, grinned, and continued on with his celebrations.
After Sam’s announcement and congratulations had been given, they’d moved outside to gather with the assembled crews, Luke’s, Cale’s and Blake’s. Luke had uncorked the rum and began sloshing the liquid into outstretched mugs. For each mug he filled, he drank to his unborn child. Considering there were nearly ninety men spread around the yard between the heaping tables of food and the fire, and Luke having just begun, Aidan figured the man would be lucky to see midnight. He scooped a shrieking Vincent into his arms.
“Let’s get you fed, boy. If you’re going to grow bigger and stronger than your brothers, you need to eat.”
“But, Uncle Aidan,” the boy whined.
“You should come, Sam. It’s important you eat.”
She smiled, placed a hand on Aidan’s forearm. “I will. I should get something for Luke as well. If he’s going to drink, he—”
Her body tensed and Aidan shifted to see why. Luke had passed the bottle to one of his crewmen and was heading toward them with long, purposeful strides. His hand was on one of the pistols he always kept tucked into his sash. He might not be a pirate any longer, but he’d never stopped dressing as one.
Aidan set little Vincent down. “Go find your mother. She’s over by the food. Go now.” The moment Aidan set the boy down, he threaded his way around the men, heading for the tables.
“Luke, what’s wrong?”
Though dusk was upon them, the firelight and few torches they’d staked into the ground provided enough light. His face looked pale beneath the black of his eye patch.
He pulled Sam close. “Something’s not right. You bring your arrows, son?”
“They’re in the house.”
“And your pistol?”
Aidan grimaced. “On the ship.”
“Damn it, I taught you better than that!” Luke’s gaze darted around. “Blake’s crew seems unarmed. Damn privateer,” he muttered. “My crew has been well trained; and some of Cale’s seem prepared. We won’t be completely defenseless from the start.”
Though Aidan had yet to see a threat, he didn’t doubt Luke. Luke had an uncanny ability to detect danger.
“I’ll get my bow now.” He turned. He had only taken one step when a shot rang sharply from the jungle. Then, like a plague, an army of men began to flood through the trees.
*
The cracking sound of a shot blasted through Grace’s ears.
“Jesus, Lord!”
She dropped, wrapped her arms around her knees to protect herself and her child.
“Weapons! Arm yourselves!” Someone yelled over her head.
Arm yourselves from whom? Who was attacking them? Why? Grace lowered her arms, rose to her feet. Bodies bolted in every direction. Their steps pounded the ground; their legs pushed and shoved her as they rushed about. The ensuing motion yanked her hair from its pins.
Faces blurred by dusk and quick movements flew past Grace. It occurred to her that, other than Cale’s crew, she didn’t know enough of the others. Once their attackers reached them, Grace wouldn’t be able to tell which was friend or foe. She prayed the others would.
And, by Jesus, where was Cale? It was impossible to see him in the sea of swarming bodies. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since he’d taken Blake and Nate aside earlier. Had the shot come from him? Or had it been directed at him? No. Not Cale. He was fine. He needed to be fine. She needed him to be fine. Her gaze whipped about. Desperation clawed at her as she willed herself to see Cale’s face in the confusion.
“Mama!”
Grace shuddered. The children! Cale was a full-grown man, and the fierce Sam Steele, she had to believe he could take care of himself. But the children… Spinning, Grace fought the tide of surging men. ’Twould be easy for a child to get caught in the charge, to fall, and…
“Will!” Claire’s voice was frantic. “Will!”
“Mama!”
There! It didn’t last more than a breath, and it wasn’t Will, but through the flurry of men Grace caught sight of Alicia’s daughter and shoved into the flow. Elbows thrust her aside and she was jostled left only to be shoved back to the right. Her feet caught on her skirt. Grac
e grabbed onto the nearest body and was pulled along until she caught her balance.
“Get out of me way!” she yelled, even as she put up her arms to protect her face. “Helen!” she hollered, praying the girl was still on her feet while willing Claire to find Will. “Helen, where are you?”
If she hadn’t been listening for it, Grace would have missed the small reply. ’Twas near impossible to tell where the sound had come from in the thick crowd but, hoping she was right, Grace forced her way left, where she’d last seen her. Nearby, Claire’s voice was raw with fear as she called for Will. We’ll get them. Grace made the promise as she fought to keep on her feet amid the shoving, fought to keep from choking on the panic clawing at her throat.
And there, finally, she spotted Helen’s small, pale face. With a feral growl, Grace lurched between two thick slabs of men and grasped the girl’s sleeve.
“I’ve got ye, lass. Now hold tight and stay close.” Even as she gave the order, Grace tightened her grip on Helen’s arm. “Move!” she shouted, though she knew she wasn’t heard amid the rising battle cries. Still, she grunted and shoved, elbowed and thrashed. A brick of an arm caught her on the side of the head and Grace’s vision went grey.
*
Hell and damn, he’d told them not to fire until he gave the signal. Roche’s plan had been to creep in undetected, or at least until it was too late for his enemies to arm themselves and take cover. Now, with the first shot still ringing in the air, with his crew barely clear of the jungle, an army of men ran toward them.
When he found out who fired that shot…
“Where did all these men come from? You said Steele didn’t have more than two dozen men aboard.” But when Roche turned, Isaac was no longer at his side. Damn it, he should have kept a better eye on the fool. He knew the man loathed Steele and was after his own revenge. Hell, he’d used it to his advantage, but now, when he most needed to keep to his plan, he had an out of control scallywag who could ruin everything.
Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance Page 23