Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance (34 page)

They spun. With long legs pumping, Nate, his face as pale as Claire’s, raced toward them.

“Mama!” With tears streaking down his dirty face, Will, in the arms of his father, reached for Claire. Sobbing, Claire ran to meet them.

“Inside, now!” Nate barely broke stride. He ignored his son’s frantic wail for his mother, grabbed Claire’s hand and raced for the house. He nearly collided with Aidan and Luke who were clearly on their way out. He shoved them back inside.

“What the bloody hell—” Luke snarled.

“Shut the door!” Nate ordered Blake, who was last to step in. “Is everyone here?” he asked.

Before Grace could say Cale’s name, Luke snarled and twisted, making his way for the door. “Get out of my bloody way!”

“Nobody’s going outside until we know everybody is accounted for, until—”

“Samantha is out there!” Luke raged, his nostrils flaring. “Now let me out!”

“Last I saw Sam, she was with you.”

Heaving, Luke looked at Aidan. “She was. I swear one moment she was there and the next I lost her.” He swallowed hard, his gaze locked on Aidan. “I lost her.”

*

Branches slapped and
clawed at Roche’s face and shoulders. Bugs bit and chewed on his neck. And still the shots continued to explode in staggering numbers. Damn it, why wasn’t the gunfire subsiding? He drew a branch aside. The damn darkness he’d needed to hide his approach also concealed the details of the battle. It was impossible to tell who was winning though the gnawing in his belly told him it wasn’t him.

Damn, it meant he couldn’t wait. Isaac clearly had his own scheme and the two he’d sent after him had failed.
Oh, they’d paid
. He gave a negligent glance toward their bodies, the stunned looks still on their faces, but it didn’t change the fact Isaac remained on the loose. If Roche had any hope of getting to Grace before Isaac ruined everything, he had to act now.

Roche turned to the men he had left and said, “Save your shots if possible, but failing that, cut them down any way you can.”

With his sword in his right hand, Roche gripped the two muskets he’d pilfered in his left hand and, growling, lunged from the jungle. He caught an opponent unaware but the man rallied fast. He threw up his sword, angled it, blocked Roche’s attack. The clash vibrated through Roche’s hand and up to his elbow. He stepped to the left, feigned right, and jabbed. Thwarted again, the ring of it echoing in his ear, Roche doubled his efforts. Pushing forward, he parried high, low, from the left, from the right. He kept it up until sweat soaked his brow, dripped from the tip of his nose.

His breath dragged through his lungs. His muscles screamed for a reprieve. Roche ignored them as easily as he ignored the screams and grunts around him. He’d expected to lose men and wouldn’t waste time or energy dwelling on them. His goal was his child. Everything else was secondary.

He raised his arm, began the hard arc down onto his opponents blade. At the last, he flicked his wrist, twisted the sword so it came down horizontally. It sliced through the man’s throat. There was no sound as his attacker’s sword dropped to the ground. There was no scream of agony. There was only the gurgle of air as the man fell and lost his life.

Panting, Roche looked about. Finally, the shots were slowing. With pistols and muskets mostly spent, with no time to reload, it was down to knives and swords. Shadows of the dead scattered throughout the yard. He could only hope his crew had killed more than they’d lost.

While it was possible Grace had taken to the trees to hide, Roche’s bet was she was in the large house beyond the battlefield. He also figured she wasn’t alone. He couldn’t know how many were inside and, due to Isaac’s desertion had no idea of the layout, but Roche always came out victorious. Other than his battle with Steele, he remembered with a snarl. Well, first Grace, then Steele. He’d have them both where he wanted before this night was through.

*

Isaac was no
more than a shadow as he crept through the forest toward Nate’s cache of hidden weapons. It was no secret among Steele’s crew Nate kept an arsenal in the trees. They needed to know in case they were ever followed or ambushed. They’d never had to use it as far as Isaac knew and he hoped they hadn’t changed its hiding spot—something he was told was done regularly.

Regardless, he’d ensured he was properly armed, with dirks tucked into his boots, pistols in his sash and a sword in his hand. He had no intention of being at Roche’s mercy, not after he’d overheard the man telling his first mate he planned on slitting Isaac’s throat once he’d outlived his usefulness.

“We’ll see who outlives his usefulness first,” Isaac muttered.

As he neared the designated hiding spot, he heard the clatter and clang of metal. Good. The cache hadn’t been moved. Slowing, he saw two men digging through the crate for more weapons.

Stealthily coming in behind, Isaac shoved his sword in the back of one man. By the time the other noticed his crewman had fallen, Isaac had his blade, dripping blood, ready. The man didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth.

The weapons had been picked through and there weren’t more than a dozen or so rifles, pistols, or muskets. He laughed when he saw a spare bow and quiver of arrows. Even in their planning for the worst, they’d thought of Aidan. Steele’s golden boy. Hell, everyone’s, Isaac thought bitterly. When they came ashore, it was as though Jesus himself had arrived. The fuss and excitement had never sat well with Isaac. Neither had the fact that the boy was younger than Isaac by nearly six years, yet Isaac was forced to take orders from the whelp. He reached for the arrows, sorely tempted to snap each one but pulled back as he reminded himself he had much bigger plans for this evening. And if all went as he anticipated, Steele and his precious first mate would lose more than a few arrows.

Taking the last bag of gunpowder, he tied it to his sash before reaching in and gently lifting out the firepots. Thanks to the campfire burning nearby, he wouldn’t need to waste time with his flint. Chuckling with glee and the knowledge they’d helped him in their own demise, Isaac crept through the trees to the back of the house.

*

Grace had never
seen Aidan look quite so fierce. “I’ll help you find Sam,” he promised Luke.

“A bow and arrow and one borrowed pistol isn’t enough.” Blake reasoned.

“He’s right. Getting yourself killed isn’t the answer,” Nate argued, ignoring Luke’s feral growl. “Are all the children here?”

“Yes, now they are.” Alicia pulled Helen a little closer. “The rest are in the cellar. It was only Helen and Will we were looking for.”

“That only leaves Samantha unaccounted for. We’ll find her, Luke, but we need a plan and we need to get to the weapons.”

“Cale’s missing as well.”

Nate cut a glance Grace’s way. “Bloody hell.” He cursed.

“Hell.” Will repeated, drawing a forced smile from those gathered.

From the back of the house, came a crash of metal clanging against metal. Everyone jolted. Moving quickly and silently, Aidan turned to the sound, slid an arrow from the quiver on his back, notched it and drew back on his bow. Luke eased his way to the boy’s side, extended his arm. With nary a sound he cocked his pistol. Alicia silenced Helen with a gesture. Nate cupped his hand over Will’s mouth.

Outside the shots blasted closer. They shook the windows and reverberated in Grace’s ears. Screams of the wounded and howls of the attackers rattled down her spine.
Cale
. She wanted to whimper, but she held her breath and kept her gaze on the doorway behind the curving stairway.

The tips of a dozen cutlasses poked around the corner. Luke charged forward as Samantha rounded the corner, her arms laden with muskets and swords.

Clearly thinking she was being attacked, Samantha tossed the assortment of weaponry aside. Before the last weapon had clattered to the floor, she’d drawn a sword.

“Bloody hell, woman.” Luke growled. His hand shook as he disarmed and lowered the pistol. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I could have shot you.”

“Luke!” Samantha gasped.

Aidan lowered his bow but his face showed the same consternation Luke’s did. “I’ll get the rest,” he said and disappeared through the doorway Samantha had come from. Blake hurried behind him.

Apparently, as pirates, treasure wasn’t the only thing they amassed.
Thank God
. However, it didn’t solve all their problems.

“How are we going to find Cale?” Grace demanded.

Nate clapped a hand on her shoulder. “First, we need to secure the house.”

“I’ll lock the back door.” Claire dashed away.

“Luke, go with her. We keep a heavy cupboard in the hall. She’ll need help to push it into place.” He looked to Mrs. Davis and her niece, who stood at the cellar’s hatch. The older woman’s normally ruddy cheeks were pale with fright. “Go with Mrs. Davis and Jeannine, son. Your cousins are waiting for you.”

Nate set the boy down and turned to the front door. For the first time, Grace noticed a large cabinet next to it. Using his shoulder, he shoved it to block the door.

“Nate, Cale won’t be able to get in!” Grace argued and was ignored by all.

“Helen.” Alicia kissed her daughter’s temple then handed her Carrack’s cage. “Go with Will.”

Squawk.
“Go with Will. Go with Will.”

“But Mama—”

Alicia’s face was stark. “Go, hurry.”

Mrs. Davis held out her hand. “Come. We’ve made ourselves a fort in the cellar.”

Will, as only children do, easily shifted moods. “A fort!” Grinning, he ran to the nursery maid. Mrs. Davis’ smile was thin as she gathered him up, wrapped a reassuring arm around Helen. “We’ll keep them quiet and secure.”

She’d no sooner led the children away when Luke and Claire returned, followed immediately by Aidan and Blake.

“This will get us armed, but what about the others?”

“There’s a cache outside, all our men know where it is. So does Cale,” Nate added for Grace’s benefit.

Grace’s heart thudded. It helped knowing there were weapons Cale could access, but he’d need to be alive to access them. And he’d need the opportunity. A blast exploded outside.

“Cale,” she whispered.

“He’s been Steele long enough to be able to take care of himself,” Blake offered. Then he turned to his wife. “Go with the children. You, Samantha, Claire and Grace. Arm yourselves and go to the cellar.”

“I am more than capable of—”

“I’m staying here—”

“I’m not leaving—”

Grace was about to add her argument to the other women’s when a window smashed open and sent them all diving for cover.

C
laire grabbed a
pistol and was on Nate’s heels as he crept low through the hall toward the back of their house. She kept following despite his order she stay with the others. This was her home and her family as much as his and she wouldn’t be kept from protecting it. They hadn’t gone through everything they’d endured to get this family not to fight for it when it was threatened.

“Blast it, woman, I said get back.”

“And I said no.” She stated simply as she crouched to the side of the kitchen door. The crash had come from inside.