Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7 (26 page)

Kit froze. The two men were somewhere amid the barrels. They were either drunken bums who lived around the waterfront, or dock workers sneaking off to have a drink. It did not matter which, though, because both were a threat. Peering out, Kit decided to crawl around the barrels to the very edge of the dock, there go along the back. She could not stay where she was because soon it would be light. There was no time to lose.

Crawling on her hands and knees, Kit began to make her way. Suddenly something big and warm brushed against her hand. A nearby post lamp bathed the world about her in a golden pool of light, and she found herself facing a huge gray wharf rat. Its narrow red eyes seemed filled with malicious glee, as if it sensed her terror. It opened its mouth and bared its teeth. Kit could not stifle a soft cry of terror.

“Eh? Ye hear that?” the drunk yelled. “Warn’t no goddamn rat made that sound. Somebody’s about here!”

Eyeing the rat, Kit scuttled backward on her hands and knees until she had several barrels between them.

“I tell ye, someone’s about,” she heard the drunk say. “I’m gettin’ outta here!”

There were footsteps running…then silence.

Taking a deep breath, Kit continued on. Crawling past the barrels, she saw with relief that the next stacks of cargo were awaiting transport to the
Olympia
. The great ship stood proud and regal before her. The pier was ablaze with light, and Kit shrank back into the shadows. She had to wait for the perfect moment to run for the rope gangway leading into the hold.

A movement caught her eye, and she saw a boy of about fifteen pick up a small box. A burly man nearby yelled, “Hurry up and get them things to the galley. We got a load of potatoes comin’ any minute now, and we gotta have room for ’em on the pier.”

The boy scurried inside the hold as fast as his scrawny legs would carry him, and the impatient workman turned his attention to a huge boxcar. Kit decided to make her move. Dressed as she was, she could pass for one of the galley boys. It was her only chance.

Her heart pounding painfully, Kit strode purposefully toward the waiting galley supplies, telling herself repeatedly to be calm. Reaching the boxes, she selected what looked like the smallest. She gasped in surprise as she strained beneath the weight of what felt like a hundred pounds of rocks.

Gritting her teeth, she started toward the gangway. She had gone only a few feet when someone yelled irritably, “Get yer ass movin’, laddie. We ain’t got all day!”

With great effort, Kit moved more quickly, although her body cried in protest. Her spine was stretched to the breaking point, and her knees threatened to buckle.

“I don’t know why they can’t hire boys with some meat on ’em,” the man roared. “They hire you skinny asses, and then you ain’t worth shit for nothin’. Hustle on in here, boy, or I’m gonna keelhaul your butt as soon as we set sail. What’s your name, anyway, you little bastard…”

Kit forced herself to make one last surge forward, almost falling as she entered the dimly lit hold. No one was about, thank God, and she attempted to lower the box as slowly and quietly as possible. The effort proved too great, however, and her stiff fingers gave way. The box fell to the floor with a loud thud, breaking open and shattering its contents—jars of golden honey.

“Did you drop that, boy? I’m gonna whup your ass good if you broke somethin’!” her tormentor cried, running toward her.

Kit looked about wildly and saw a stack of lumpy burlap bags filled with smelly onions. Summoning her very last ounce of strength, she dove headfirst over the top of land on the other side. Then she lay frozen as she heard the man burst into the hold.

“Aw, goddamn! Look at this mess! You’re fired, boy, but first I’m gonna give you a beatin’ you ain’t never gonna forget!”

Kit held her breath, her eyes squeezed shut. This couldn’t be happening!

Another voice boomed, “What’s goin’ on here, McAdoe? What’s all the yellin’ about? A wagonload of taters just got here. We need to get ’em unloaded, but the dock’s full.”

Kit’s enemy explained that an incompetent galley boy had dropped a crate of honey and was hiding. The other man angrily told him to get back to work and find the culprit later.

“You can bet yer ass I will, too,” McAdoe grumbled, his words fading as they left the ship. “He shows hisseif again, I’ll get him. He was wearin’ a derby hat, and I’ll know him by that.”

The activity outside seemed to be increasing as the time for sailing grew near. Kit could not stay where she was, as there was a chance the bags she hid behind would be moved elsewhere. Holding on to the lumpy sacks for support, she forced herself to stand. She peered over the top to check her surroundings and looked through the hatch to the pier. The world beyond was getting lighter by the moment, and time was running out.

Kit ducked down as a crewman came on board, his kit bag slung over his shoulder. Someone else passed by, and the two exchanged pleasantries. Then there was silence. She waited a few seconds longer before daring to move over the sacks and head for the kennels.

The main storage room was as dark and oppressive as she’d remembered, with animal cages bordering a pathway back to the stables.

Kit pushed open the big door to the stalls, hoping there would not be many horses. The fewer to be fed and cared for, the less her chance of discovery. She was relieved to see that the first two stalls on either side were empty. She walked farther back, away from the small light that was always kept burning by the door.

The next two stalls were also unoccupied. She dared to think she might have the entire section to herself. Then she heard the sound of agitated hooves pawing the floor of the very last stall.

Kit went to the gate and boosted herself on the bottom rung. She leaned over to reassure the animal it had nothing to fear. She nearly toppled over in shock as the mellow light revealed that the horse was Pegasus!

He whinnied softly in recognition, and Kit choked with emotion as she rubbed his soft velvet nose. She thought of how she’d looked forward to riding him on her ranch, making a special stall for him in the red barn. That dream would not come true now, thanks to Kurt Tanner. Kit stiffened instinctively. That Pegasus was on board meant that he was, too. Kit, was suddenly glad to be a stowaway and not a passenger. Hiding in the hold with the animals was certainly preferable to his company.

The ship suddenly lurched with a loud, grinding noise, and Kit realized that they were starting to move away from the pier. She was on her way to a new life! She turned to the stall opposite, grateful to find it clean, the floor covered with fresh, sweet-smelling hay. Sitting down, she opened her bag and took a sip of water.

The ship made soft creaking sounds as it was guided slowly out of the harbor. Snuggling down in the pungent hay, Kit closed her eyes and was soon floating away on dreams of green Spanish valleys and wild Hispanos.

Kit woke up feeling queasy and hot. There was no way to tell how long she’d slept, for time stood still there in the shadowy stalls. She knew she should eat something, but she felt nauseated. She tried to sip water, and realized her throat was sore.
Dear God, please don’t let me get sick
, she prayed. She felt weak and light-headed, and knew that it was not just from weariness. A hot fever seemed to be engulfing her, and she felt dizzier with each passing moment. Kit grew frightened. She knew she had to have help. Mustering her last shred of strength, she crawled through the straw to the gate. She then grasped the rungs and tried to pull herself up. The gate swung open, and she clung to it desperately as she felt herself slipping away. Her last conscious sight was Pegasus staring curiously down at her.

From somewhere far, far away, the voices came to her. She could not speak to them, for her throat seemed paralyzed with pain. She could not reach out, for there was no strength left within her to move. She could only lie there in the thick, gray fog that surrounded her, wondering where she was.

A disgruntled officer stared down at Kit. “This is where you found him?” he asked Norman Thatcher, the kennel boy.

“Yes, sir,” Norman replied nervously. This was his area of responsibility, and a stowaway was a serious matter. “I just came here to feed Mr. Tanner’s horse, and I saw somebody lying here and ran to get help. I haven’t tried to move him, and—”

The officer gave him an impatient shove. “Oh, get out of my way! Bleedin’ stowaways! We ought to just throw him overboard and be done with him, less trouble then.” He rolled Kit over on her back and gasped, “I’ll be goddamned. It’s a woman!”

Norman peered over his shoulder, then pushed the officer aside to kneel beside her. “It’s Miss Kit Coltrane! She was a passenger last trip. She comes from a very wealthy family.”

“So what’s she doing here dressed up like a man?” The officer frowned. “Something funny is going on, but we’ll worry about that later. She’s awfully sick right now.”

Norman thought for a moment. “Mr. Tanner—the man who checked the horse in—said it was his. I thought it odd at the time, being as he belonged to Miss Coltrane on the trip over. She sure was fond of that horse, too. I can’t imagine her selling him to anybody. Let me go get Mr. Tanner and see if he knows what this is all about.”

“You do that,” the officer said grimly. “But my guess is she’s a stowaway, for whatever reason. Why else would she be dressed like this? We’d better not move her until the doc looks her over. I’ll get him while you fetch Tanner.”

Kit did not try to speak to them. It was so much easier to sink into the quicksand of oblivion.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kit opened her eyes with great effort. She felt utterly drained both physically and emotionally. Trying to focus despite a throbbing headache, her eyes were drawn to the only source of light in the dark room—a round window. Then she realized that it was a porthole, which meant she was on a ship. As she lifted her head from the pillow, her vision became clearer. She saw a small sofa, a chair, a table, and a desk. She was lying on a large bed. There were paintings on the walls, a rug on the floor. What was she doing in a suite! Kit tried unsuccessfully to sit up. The blanket fell away, and she saw that she was wearing an unfamiliar shirt. Whose shirt was it? Who had put it on her? And how had she gotten there?

Too weak to get up, Kit could only fall back and lie there, overcome by a feeling of terror. The last thing she remembered was being in the stall and feeling sick. A wave of hysteria swept over her. Then she heard a scraping sound and saw the doorknob slowly turning, able only to await helplessly whatever fate had in store.

Kurt Tanner walked into the room.

“You!”

“Welcome back. You had me worried for a while there.”

Her parched lips moved wordlessly, and Kurt poured her a cup of water from the pitcher on the table. Then he gently lifted her head so she could drink slowly. Kit loathed his touch, but she desperately wanted the water.

“Do you feel like eating? I can have the galley send up some soup. Your fever broke during the night. The doctor said the worst seemed to be over, but you’ll be weak for a while.” He gently lowered her head to the pillow once more, concern etched on his face.

Kit shook her head in amazement. “How…” she began in a tremulous voice. “How did you find me?”

Kurt laughed softly, sitting down on the side of the bed. “I didn’t. The kennel boy did. Thatcher, I think his name is. He called an officer. They thought you were a stowaway.”

“Then how—”

“How did I get involved?” he finished for her. “Well, after Thatcher got a good look at you, he recognized you from the last voyage. He also remembered that you were the one who brought Pegasus over, and wondered why I was the one who’d brought him on board this time. He came to ask me if I knew what was going on. I didn’t, but I made up my own story to cover for you.”

Kit frowned. He was obviously enjoying himself, trying to make her feel forever indebted to him. Well, he needn’t waste his breath, she fumed inwardly, her resentment giving her strength. “You had no right to meddle. Why didn’t you just mind your own business?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “If I had, you’d be in a place I don’t think you’d like very much—the ship’s jail.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kit protested. “You just said Norman Thatcher recognized me, and—”

“Doesn’t matter. He might be able to eventually confirm that you are a member of the prestigious Coltrane family, but as far as the captain was concerned, for the moment you were just a stowaway. It’s obvious that you weren’t merely out for a stroll and got lost in the kennels. Especially,” he reminded her, “since you weren’t listed on the passenger roster.”

“So what am I doing here?” she asked weakly.

“Recovering from a fever that nearly did you in. You’ve been unconscious for nearly two days.”

“Two days?” Kit echoed dizzily. “I don’t believe it. I remember falling asleep because I was so tired, but that couldn’t have been two days ago!”

“Thatcher found you when he went to take care of the animals. I had you brought here. That was the night before last.”

Kit watched him silently. There was still one question he had not answered. Clenching her fists, she demanded, “I asked you why I am here, in your stateroom! And who’s been dressing me?”

His dark eyes danced mischievously. “Why, your faithful and loving husband has been dressing you, Mrs. Tanner, and caring for you, and bathing you to bring down your fever. And, I might add,” he said winking, “enjoying every minute of it.” Unable to help himself, he threw back his head and laughed at her incredulous indignation.