Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (12 page)

Turning to face him, Liberty saw that he was now lying
on his back, staring at the sky. Her young eyes moved across his powerful legs, clad in gray pantloons which were stretched taut across bulging muscles. His black
English riding boots came to his knees, and shone with a
high gloss. The ruffles at the cuff of his white linen shirt
rested against strong, sun-tanned hands. The blood ran' hot in her veins, as she thought of those hands touching her in the most intimate way.

Judah had removed his gray, cutaway jacket and casually tossed it aside. Her eyes were drawn to the hollow at
the base of his throat; the golden hair on his chest was just visible above the top button on his shirt. His chin was strong; his face handsome beyond belief. Golden
skinned and golden haired; surely there was no other man
like Judah Slaughter. Liberty could almost feel the
strength of him radiate through the crisp morning air, and
she was almost giddy from the effect. There was about him a sense of vitality and strength that no one could ignore. He was so alive, so male. She had no doubt that
he had always been spoiled by the fair sex. Most probably
he could have any woman he wanted.

Liberty remembered how Bandera had reacted to him, and she felt dread in her heart. Suppose Bandera decided
she wanted Judah Slaughter? Bandera had certainly been
attracted to him, and to Liberty's knowledge, no man could resist her sister's charm.

Judah turned to face Liberty, and she was caught in a
tide of confusion when his turquoise eyes held her gaze. It was as if this were the moment in time that she had been
created for. Judah Slaughter was the only man she would
ever love. Would a man like him, who must have scores of
lady friends, laugh at the love she felt for him?

There was complete silence as his eyes narrowed. It was
a strange moment, and he felt the young girl pulling at him. Judah reached out his hand toward her, but drew it
back before it made contact. What in the hell was wrong
with him? he wondered. Liberty was a child, and he was
having very grown-up thoughts about her. "How did you
ever come by a name like Liberty?" he asked in a soft voice.

Liberty turned away so she could find her voice. "It was the name of my father's only sister. She died in a yellow fever epidemic."

"I see, a family name."

"Oui,
my mother was not in favor of the name, but my
father, who usually gives in to her, held out stubbornly in
this."

"I think it is a lovely and unusual name."

Liberty reached for the saddlebags she had tossed on
the ground earlier, and withdrew two apples. Pitching one to Judah, she shined hers on the leg of her trousers. "My
father says it is a name to live up to. He says it demands
integrity, honor, and honesty. I told him I would endeavor
not to shame his sister's name."

Judah bit into the apple, all the while watching her face ease into her devilish little smile. "Sometimes it is very
difficult to live up to my father's expectations,
Monsieur."

His smile was warm as he reached out to catch a golden
wisp of hair and tuck it behind her ear. "I believe you are
already in possession of the traits your father expects of
you, little Liberty. I am very proud that I have come to know you."

Her eyes brightened, and she caught her breath as his
finger trailed across her chin. "Are you ready, Judah?" They had both unconsciously slipped into a first-name basis.

"Indeed I am."

Suddenly she wanted to know everything about him—
his likes and dislikes, his favorite pastime, his plans for
the future. "What did you do before you came to your
grandfather's house?"

He chuckled. "You see before you a sea captain, Liberty. I hope you are properly impressed."

Her eyes rounded in surprise. "A sea captain! I never
suspected, but
oui,
it fits." Now she could better understand why his skin was so beautifully tanned. "How did
you come to be a captain?"

"I suppose it's in my blood. My father was a sea captain."

"But you are so young. One always thinks of a sea captain as an elderly, more mature gentleman."

He laughed again. "If you are wondering if I am qualified to captain a ship, the answer is yes."

"What is the name of your ship?"

"The
Winged Victory."

"I like that. What kind of ship is she?"

"She is a frigate. Do you know anything about ships?"

"No, but I would very much like to. Where is she now?
Did you sail her here?"

He took another bite of apple and chewed it before
answering. "My first mate, Philippe Cease, took the
Winged Victory
to the Spanish Territory. On his return I
will leave for Boston."

Suddenly her heart felt heavy, and she shook her head.
"Does that mean you will be leaving as soon as he arrives?"

"Perhaps." He traced the stem of the apple with a long
finger, then pulled it out and tossed it away. "That will
depend on my mother. But I need to get back to sea, Liberty. That is the way I make my living."

"Your grandfather is a very wealthy man."

"I agree."

"You could-"

"Let me explain something to you, my new little friend.
What my grandfather has, or does not have, does not affect me in any case. I make my own way."

She caught the bite to his words, and felt an even deeper admiration for Judah. "I know your grandfather quite well. It is strange that he never told me about you.
He is really very nice, once you realize he talks gruffly to
cover a kind heart."

Judah looked at her doubtfully. "Perhaps you have seen
this side of him. I doubt I ever shall." He shifted his weight. "It is much too nice a day to talk about my grandfather."

Liberty could read the anger in the depths of Judah's
eyes, and she realized it was time to change the subject. "I
have never sailed on a big ship. The only times I have
been on a boat are on occasional trips down the Missis
sippi to New Orleans, or of course when peddling my skiff down the bayous —but that doesn't qualify."

"Do you go into the swamps alone?" His voice was filled with wonder.

"Of course. My father says I know the swamps better
than anyone. Besides, I have a friend that I visit there."

"Who would live in the swamps besides alligators?"

Liberty smiled slightly. "A woman named Zippora.
Some people believe her to be a witch, but she's not. She
lives in a cabin where she weaves her spells and mixes her
potions." Her eyes danced merrily. "Are you impressed?"

"Indeed. I have heard it said that voodoo is still secretly
practiced among many of the slaves."

"As I said, Zippora is not really a witch, and she claims
she does not practice voodoo. But she has strange powers.
She is my best friend. I find her company preferable to that of most people I know."

"Let me see if I have this right. "You prefer the
company of horses and witches, to that of people of your
own kind —is that correct?"

"Oui,
I do."

After a long moment of silence, Liberty asked. "What do you think of Sebastian?"

"He is everything I expected him to be."

"Which is no answer at all."

He arched an eyebrow. "You catch on quickly. I like a
woman with a fast mind."

Liberty took a bite of her apple while studying him closely. "You don't think much of us do you?"

His smile was genuine. "I like you."

"You like Bandera, too, don't you?"

"Tell me about her," he said with sudden attentiveness.
"What is she really like?"

"No need for me to tell you she is lovely; you already
know that. Bandera is everything a young lady of quality
should be. She will one day adorn some gentleman's home and make him the perfect wife." She could have
added that Bandera was cold and calculating, but she did
not. In spite of her sister's shortcomings, Liberty loved her. And it was not in Liberty's nature to be unkind.

"I find it strange that your sister has dark hair and yours is so fair," Judah observed aloud.

"In truth, Bandera is only my half sister. My mother was married and widowed before she met my father."

"That would explain the difference in coloring."

"Oui.
Bandera is Spanish, while I am only half-Span
ish.

At that moment, the fishing pole began to wiggle, and
Judah and Liberty both made a dive for it. Laughing and
tugging at the line, she handed the pole to him. With a strong jerk, he pulled the fish in, and it landed with a plop on the riverbank.

Liberty picked up the two-pound catfish, steadied it with one hand, then deftly removed the hook from its mouth. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No, as a matter of fact I haven't."

"How would you like to have a freshly cooked catfish?"

"I would like nothing better. How will you arrange it?"

"Come with me," she said, shouldering her fishing pole. "You are in for a real feast." Liberty made her way
down the sun-baked brick path, which was moss covered and almost hidden from view. Judah gathered up the reins
of his horse and followed, while Liberty's horse grazed beside the river. Rounding a bend, Judah stopped short
when he saw the huge barn that fallen into disrepair.

Judah followed Liberty inside, and tied his horse to a
broken stall post. He watched her gather wood and place
it inside a white brick oven. Then Liberty reached into her
pocket, withdrew a flint, and ignited a fire.

"Do you come here often?" Judah asked, his eyes following the pigeons that were nesting in the loft.

"Oui.
Usually my father and I come here to clean and
cook our catch. We laugh and he speaks to me of the past, when Briar Oaks was the grandest plantation
around." Her eyes softened with sadness. "I am sure it has not escaped your notice that my home has fallen on hard
times."

He watched her expertly clean the fish and place it on a
red-hot stone to bake. The delicious aroma quickly filled
the air. "I know how you must feel, although I never knew my father. After he died, my mother and I knew hard times."

Liberty plopped herself down on a wooden barrel and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I am sorry. It must be sad
to lose one's father."

He smiled. "How did we get on such a serious subject? Tell me, though," he said with interest, "how is it that a
plantation like Briar Oaks can fall on hard times?"

"My father says that the indigo crop is on its way out,
and he should have realized it long before now. He wants to concentrate on cotton and perhaps even tobacco. He
believes sugarcane is the way of the future. He hopes one
day to restore Briar Oaks to its former beauty."

Judah was impressed and amused that one so young
would be so wise. He refrained from commenting on her
intelligence, knowing her well enough by now to realize that she would think he was being condescending. "I would not have thought tobacco would do well this far west, but cotton, perhaps."

"You will find this land very fertile. One has but to drop a seed in the soil and, most probably, it will take root."

Nature chose that moment to press her authority. A
sudden flash of lightning split the air while thunder rolled
across the river. Rain fell in torrents, and Liberty and
Judah were forced to take shelter under the protected side
of the barn, where the cypress shingles were still intact.

A feeling of comradeship joined them together as they ate the delicious-tasting baked catfish and stood beneath
the shelter of the barn, watching the rain swell the muddy
river.

Liberty looked up at Judah and smiled. "I love it when
it rains. It washes the earth clean, and the smell of damp
earth is so invigorating. I love to sleep with the rain pounding on the roof and thunder echoing down the valley."

"I have heard my mother tell stories of the Mississippi
River on a rampage. I am sure that is an aspect of the rain that you don't enjoy."