At last, after almost an hour rowing through the darkness, the silhouette of the SS Panama loomed ahead. What a relief. She could hardly wait to get on board. They pulled alongside the ship. As the fragile canoe bobbed up and down in the swells, she looked for a ladder but couldn’t find one. “How are we supposed to get up there?”
Garth stood and turned around, carefully balancing himself against the rocking of the boat. “Wait, you’ll see. They’re going to haul you on board.”
Looking up, she could dimly discern faces peering down from above. A boom with something attached swung out over the water. An object was being lowered. When it hovered directly over the canoe, she made out an oversized bucket. “I’m supposed to get into that?”
“If you want on the ship,” Garth replied just as a considerable swell lifted the canoe to a frightening height and lowered it again.
Her stomach clenched tight, partly from the nauseating effect of the swell but mostly from fear. I can’t. She opened her mouth to voice her protest, then clamped her lips shut. She would not be a coward in the eyes of Garth Morgan, even if she fell into the ocean and drowned, which most likely she would. “How do I get in?”
“Hang onto the rope. I’ll lift you in. Move fast. We’ll do it between swells.”
The canoe raised high and dropped down again. Now or never. She stood up, grabbed the rope and closed her eyes. Garth caught her up in his strong arms and dropped her in the bucket. “See how easy?” He raised his arm to signal those above.
The bucket started up. She grasped the rope tight and yelled to her maid, “Just do what Mr. Morgan says, and you’ll be fine.” She held tight as the bucket swung over the water, then back over the ship until she was looking down at the top deck from high above. Panic like she’d never known swelled in her throat. Surely the rope would break. Surely this was the last day of her life. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the end. Slowly she was lowered to the deck of the SS Panama. Helpful hands lifted her out. A bearded, distinguished looking man in a white uniform approached. “Miss Tinsley, I presume. I’m Captain Walker. Welcome aboard. My dear friend, Garth Morgan, said you were coming.” He held out his hand.
Her knees were shaking so much she could hardly stand. She must look an absolute mess. Despite all that, good manners ruled all else and always would. She took his hand and gave him her most charming smile. “How delightful to meet you, Captain Walker.”
“I trust you had no difficulty getting to the ship?”
“Not in the least, sir. In fact, my journey from the hotel was quite pleasurable.”
“My tickets were for steerage,” Letty remarked when she and Elfreda stepped into their cabin. The two-bedded room was large, nicely furnished, and had a window. Better yet, it was located on the top deck of the ship.
“Well, this sure isn’t steerage.” Wide-eyed, Elfreda looked around. “Looks like first class to me. Mr. Morgan must be responsible. You’re not going to complain, are you?”
“Hardly.” Letty closed the door and breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Isn’t this wonderful? We made it.”
“We’re not there yet.”
Letty would not allow her spirits to be dampened. “It was all so exciting,” she said with a smile. “Our ride in the canoe, getting hauled on board.”
“Exciting, my foot. You should have seen yourself on the back of that native. You weren’t smiling then.”
“Neither were you, Elfreda. By some miracle, that poor man didn’t choke, your arms were wrapped around his neck so tight.”
Her maid took a moment, then smiled. Soon she started to laugh. “Listen to us. Did you ever think when we left Boston—?” She choked with laughter and couldn’t go on.
Letty burst out laughing, too. Partly from relief, but mostly because Elfreda had just made her see the humor of it all. “I must have looked pretty ridiculous on that poor fellow’s back.”
“Yes, you did, and so did I.”
They laughed together until both had to wipe tears from their eyes. The floor started to shake, accompanied by a low rumble. Then the rhythmic thump-thump of the paddlewheels told her the ship was moving. “We’re on our way to San Francisco, Elfreda. The worst is over.”
“I don’t think so.” Elfreda got serious again. “With what you’ve got ahead of you, there’s bound to be more trouble.”
“Whatever happens, I can handle it.”
Elfreda’s eyes filled with admiration. “I believe you can, Miss Letty. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”
Not so bad after all. Her maid’s words spun in Letty’s head before she went to sleep. She’d been complimented before, but no words of praise ever pleased her half as much. If only… Garth. She could still feel his arms around her, lifting her onto the native’s back, hoisting her into that outlandish bucket. She could still hear his calm voice, so caring, so reassuring, so very impersonal. No surprise. Her foolish behavior had put hers and Elfreda’s lives in danger, and his, too. He’d said he would help her, and being a man of honor, he kept his word. Probably from now on he’d avoid her, and she didn’t blame him a bit.
Chapter 14
The next morning, when Letty appeared for breakfast in the dining room, the steward seated her at the captain’s table beside Garth, who looked his usual splendid self in a dark wool suit with a silk burgundy vest. He greeted her politely.
She leaned toward him and asked softly, “Why am I in first class?”
He looked amused. “You’re not complaining, are you?”
How could she complain when she was sitting at a table set with elegant linen, china and crystal, the other seats occupied by the captain himself, plus some splendidly dressed passengers who must be at least as rich as Garth. “Of course I’m not complaining, but what do I owe you?”
“Simply the honor of your company. After breakfast I’ll give you a tour of the ship.”
There went her prediction that he was going to avoid her. “Does this mean you’re not angry with me?”
“Over what?” He looked genuinely perplexed.
“Over—you know—getting caught in that riot.”
“Ah, that. We all do stupid things.” As an afterthought, he added wryly, “Including me.”
Of course he meant Honoria. Before her death, he would never have made such a remark. Letty liked the new, more humble Garth. “I accept with pleasure, Mr. Morgan.”
“So we’re back to last names again?”
She answered with a smile and nothing more.
The Panama had two decks, the upper one reserved for first class passengers. The first thing Letty learned when she stepped onto the lower deck was that it was packed with men, mostly young and all headed for the gold fields.
“There are far more passengers than rooms,” Garth explained. “You saw the mob at the steamship office. They finally held a lottery. These men have paid up to a thousand dollars per ticket for the privilege of eating and sleeping in the open. Let’s hope we don’t hit a storm.”
Letty pointed at chalk lines in the shape of rectangular squares marked all over the deck. “What are those?”
“That’s where they sleep. Each man has his own space.”
Because of Charles, Letty perfectly understood why these men were willing to endure such hardships. That same feverish look had gleamed in his eye, that same sure knowledge he was going to get rich. Garth conducted her through the ship, including the engine room where she pretended to be interested in his description of “the one-cylinder, side-lever engine with a stroke of eight feet.”
“How fascinating.”
“The ship carries five hundred and twenty tons of coal to feed the engine,” Garth further explained.
“That’s quite interesting.” Actually, she wasn’t the least bit bored. How could she be when she liked to hear him talk? He seemed knowledgeable on every subject. When he explained something, he wasn’t showing off and sounding superior like many men did, he simply wante
d to share. But his speaking skills weren’t all she was enjoying, nor his many kindnesses, either. As they made their way through the ship, she grew acutely aware of that familiar, unspoken current of attraction that again was flowing back and forth between them. Every time they got close, what seemed like an unseen force kept drawing them together. When they touched, quite accidentally, of course, a hungry throbbing pulsed in the center of her being. He was being the soul of courtesy and politeness, but somehow she knew he felt the same.
At the end of the tour, he brought her back to her cabin and said good-bye at the door. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight. I predict it’ll be a pleasurable evening.”
Pleasurable evening? When she stepped inside and shut the door, she heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
Elfreda was lying on her bed. “What’s wrong, Miss Letty?”
“Nothing.” Everything. Despite what her common sense told her, she found herself deeply attracted to the man. If she were smart, she’d avoid the dining room tonight and have dinner sent to her room. Surely that was the most sensible plan she could follow. She wouldn’t, though. She knew she wouldn’t. Like a moth to the flame, on the subject of Garth Morgan she possessed no will of her own. How she’d get through this night without surrendering to this overpowering pull of desire, she didn’t know.
* * * *
In the late afternoon, Garth stood at the upper deck railing with Mathew. Except for the steady thump of the paddlewheels, the ship glided quietly through a calm, crystal blue sea. A school of flying fish had just passed by, followed by a whale spouting a geyser of water through its blowhole. To the east, the verdant green Central American coastline stretched endlessly. Must be Costa Rica by now. “Nature is astounding, isn’t it, Mathew? You and I are privileged to see such beauty. Not many people do.”
“Yes, indeed, Mr. Morgan, but I’ll be glad to get back to San Francisco.”
Garth inwardly sighed. He could never find a more faithful, hard-working employee than Mathew, but the man had no creativity, no imagination and no spark of interest in anything beyond his work. “If all goes well, we’ll be home in fifteen days.”
Mathew threw him a cautious glance. “Do you suppose Major Leffington will be at the pier to greet us?”
Garth got a knot in his stomach yet again, like he always did when he thought of that dreaded moment when he must face Honoria’s husband. Word of a ship’s arrival always spread ahead of time, so of course the major would be at the pier asking, “Where is my wife?”
Sorry, sir, but she was eaten by a crocodile. I would have saved her, but you know how fast those creatures are.
God help him, he’d almost rather face another crocodile than Leffington. “I don’t know what I’ll say, Mathew, and I’d rather not discuss the matter.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Quite all right.” No, it wasn’t all right, but that was no one’s fault but his own.
Mathew’s face brightened. “I’d wager Miss Belmont will be at the pier to greet you.”
Lillian. Yet another subject he’d rather not dwell on. Not so long ago, his mistress occupied many of his thoughts in a most entertaining way. They did indeed “frolic,” as Mother so humorously declared. With her bold manner and lusty behavior, Lillian satisfied his every need, both in bed and otherwise. She could be quite demanding, most difficult at times, but at least she knew her place in his life. Never a hint about marriage from Miss Lillian Belmont, but now…
He hardly thought of her anymore. The rare times he did, he was only wondering how he could get rid of her. Such an unpleasant task wouldn’t be easy. Lillian Belmont was a force to be reckoned with. He could give her money and jewelry, he supposed—the standard means by which one got rid of a mistress—but would there ever be enough to make his hot-tempered lover leave quietly with a cordial good-bye?
Tonight he’d dine with Letty. He would order the finest wine, the most delicious items on the menu. After what she’d been through, she deserved the best. He’d known many women in his life but never one so brave, courageous, steadfast, honorable or beautiful—everything a woman ought to be. Not that he loved her. He just wished he could stop thinking about her.
* * * *
Letty twirled around in front of the cabin’s small mirror admiring herself. At last, she had the chance to wear the white silk dress with the daringly low neckline that she’d hauled clear from Boston. “How do I look, Elfreda?”
“You look fine. I spent a lot of time on that fancy coiffure. You’d better not mess it up.”
“I’ll be careful.” She looked closer in the mirror. Elfreda had fashioned a few little tendrils of curl around her face, then swept the rest of the blond strands atop her head, fastening them in place with a mother-of-pearl comb. Not bad. She gave a little nod. Tonight would be special—dining at the captain’s table where everyone would be elegantly dressed. She took another look in the mirror. Perfect. Garth was sure to like the way she looked.
The dinner was every bit as enjoyable as she expected, filled with good food and sparkling conversation. She got acquainted with the passengers at her table. Ernst Bachmeir and his wife, Frieda, were friends of Garth’s. Letty liked jovial Mr. Bachmeir, but his wife not so much. Frieda had a snooty look about her and kept casting curious glances at Letty, as if asking, why are you here? Letty’s favorite dinner companion was another friend of Garth’s, flamboyant Phineas Strauss, a bachelor in his forties who owned a string of saloons in the gold country. Flashily dressed, sporting a huge diamond ring on his pinkie finger, Phineas liked to regale his fellow diners with hilarious stories of life in the rip-roaring mining towns.
Garth was the perfect dinner companion. Dressed in formal attire, he looked as handsome as a man could look. When he spoke, everyone listened attentively, including the captain. His conversation revealed his subtle sense of humor. More than once, his witty ripostes set everyone to laughing. After dinner, he invited Letty for a walk on the upper deck. Now, as they stood by the railing on the upper deck, Letty remarked, “This evening was lovely. I can’t remember when I enjoyed a dinner more.”
“More than the baked monkey?”
She started laughing. “Perhaps a bit more.” She gazed out at the moonlit sea. “This may sound strange, but I don’t regret any part of this journey, the awful food included, and also the lizards on the walls, and those natives without a decent stitch of clothing on, and the scorpions, snakes, and—”
“Crocodiles.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Say what you like. I won’t fall apart.”
“Oh, Garth, I’m so sorry about Honoria. She didn’t deserve such a fate.”
“Let’s not talk about Honoria.”
He was standing close. So close she could hear his fast breathing—so close her heart started pounding. But she mustn’t give in. Must retain her sanity. She forced a casual laugh. “So what shall we talk about?”
“Let’s not talk at all.” He put his arms around her.
She was lost the moment he swept her close and crushed his lips to hers. The clean, male smell of him filled her nostrils, making her lightheaded. The last of her resistance fled, and she didn’t care. Lord knew she’d tried, but in her heart, she’d known all along she couldn’t keep away from this irresistible man. With a groan of abandonment, she threw her arms around him and drew him so close she could feel every inch of his long, hard body. After he’d planted a searing kiss on her mouth, he surged all over her, planting kisses on her forehead, nose, the hollow of her neck, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.
He pulled away. In a guttural voice filled with passion, he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
Society’s rules for proper behavior had all flown out of her head. What she should do and what she was going to do were two different things entirely. “No,” she whispered, “I don’t want you to stop.”
He took her arm. “My cabin.”
Afterward, as she and Garth lay together on the bed, he asked, “Any regrets?”
“Absolutely no.” Never had she dreamed the act of making love could be so wonderful.
He raised up on one elbow and gazed down at her. “When we get to San Francisco, I’ll show you the city.”
“I’d love it.”
He ran his fingers down her cheek, tugged on a curl. “When we get there, I have certain matters to attend to before… I hope you understand.”
Before he could ask her to marry him? She wasn’t sure what he meant, but her heart leaped at the thought. She mustn’t forget her reason for this journey, though. “I won’t have much time for sight-seeing. I’ll be looking for—”
“Charles.” He smiled ruefully. “He’s a subject we’ve avoided.”
She started to speak, but he stopped her with a quick kiss. “We won’t let him come between us. I promise I’ll help you find him any way I can. Do you believe me?”
“Yes, of course I do.” The letter—the claim—the map. She’d deal with all that later. For the moment, the world and all its problems didn’t exist beyond the lulling thud of the paddlewheels and the gentle rocking of the ship as she lay in the strong, loving arms of Garth Morgan.
It was late, very late, when Letty returned to her cabin. Quietly opening the door, she hoped her maid would be sound asleep and stay that way. No such luck. Elfreda was sitting up in bed and had a candle burning on the bedside table. “It’s mighty late,” she remarked. As Letty came closer, she squinted, then frowned. “Your hair’s a mess.”
Gold Rush Bride Page 13