Storm on the Horizon (Fated For Love) (2 page)

Olivia scoffed
. “They ignore me most of the time. I am locked away here and forgotten. I am worthless here,” she grumbled.

“
Let us do the searching, Livie, and do your best to make your mama and papa smile. You are good at bringing happiness to others.”

She turned and smiled at him brilliantly. He basked in it and—unable to stop it— warmly smiled in return.  She stood
, and he held his breath as she slowly reached up and plucked a leaf from his hair. She was so close to him and with her stature so much smaller than his, he could almost see down her dress. His body tensed, muscle solidifying into rock, lest he reach for her. Their eyes collided and around them, awareness swelled. She dragged the leaf down the side of his cheek across the course stubble.

“
Olivia …” Her name came out as a warning, a desperate warning from a desperate man.

“
Yes…” The word crossed her lips like a breath. Olivia looked deep into his eyes, inviting, imploring him to do something—anything—that would let her know she was not alone in her want. They stood like that for a pregnant moment, and then as time seemed to slow to a snail’s pace, his hand came up and Olivia looked down, watching it rise towards her bodice. Her body screamed with anticipation—closer—closer...  and then he flicked the top button of her bodice and stepped back.

“
Your dress is undone, I thought you should know.” He turned away and put his hands in his pockets, idly looking over the fountain.

Olivia deflated like an undercooked
soufflé. She hastily buttoned her dress, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Bloody buttons, damn dress, damn and blast! That was the extent of curse words she knew, and she cycled them through her mind as she fumed. “Thank you,” she replied tersely. “If there is anything I can do to help, Colton …please. I need to do something,” she said emphatically.

He looked back at her, once again cool and under control
. “Let me take care of Devon, and you take care of your parents. I will be picking up a trunk of Devon’s things first thing in the morning and then will be under way.”

Olivia nodded. Her heart thudded painfully with disappointment.
“I wish you a safe journey. If anyone can find him, I know you can.”

By
far, this was the most foolish, outrageous, and dangerous thing Olivia had ever done. She took each bump and thump to her body as penance for her stupidity, but did not waver in her resolve. It felt like an eternity, cramped as she was, with only the small key hole for light and visual confirmation before the wagon carrying the trunk—carrying her—reached the dock. It was meant to be filled with necessities for Devon, which it was, but only the absolutely necessary things, and the rest was filled with Olivia.

It was really a simple matter
when the trunk was brought down to the hall last evening after Jacobs packed it. Olivia simply waited until everyone had gone to bed, removed some things, and then returned in the morning before anyone woke, and slipped inside. For once, her petite stature aided her plans.

Now was the scariest part. Two men were walking her up a narrow plank
, and all she could see through her tiny window was water—suffocating and life ending water. If they dropped her, she would sink like a stone and die alone in the depths of the harbor. She breathed a sigh of relief once on board and watched in curiosity as she passed rope, men, wood walls, and other ambiguous sights until dropped on the floor in an unknown pace. She bit her knuckle to keep from grunting out loud at the bone jarring thud. She heard the men walk away and a door close.

She anxiously waited as more sounds drifted to her
—talking, footsteps, thuds, scrapes, a bevy of sounds of ship-life assaulted her, mixed with the cries of gulls. It seemed ceaseless, and despite her uncomfortable position, Olivia was lulled to sleep.

She awoke to the repetitive crash of waves against the hull. She could still hear the sounds of movement around her, but they were less chaotic. Her stomach lurched with every rise and
fall, as her confinement became unbearable. The trunk was like an oven, becoming hotter and hotter the longer she lay there and grew more nauseous. She tried to change positions, but it was useless. She began to fret as the very real threat of losing her accounts became a possibility.

Beads of sweat formed on her brow and dripped into her eyes, stinging them. She tried to wipe at her brow, but could not reach it. Her panic only served to make her more nauseous. She had to get out. Reaching for the pin tucked in the folds of her dress by her hand, she wiggled her arm free to pick the trunk lock. It was fairly simple given she was on the inside and could
feel the back of the mechanism, but each second felt like a minute, and each minute pushed her closer and closer to the inevitable. Drat it but she started to cry. Being sick to ones stomach was never pleasant, but Olivia loathed it, and dreaded the possibility that she might do it all over herself locked in a severely confined space.

That fear pushed her harder
, and as the lock clicked, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and with it came her loathsome fate. As she lifted the lid, she heaved her upper body over the side and vomited. Panting and shaking with revulsion, she looked around the small wood cabin with only a small porthole for light. She was disoriented and queasy as the ship dropped over another wave. Olivia’s stomach heaved again and emptied its contents. It became a vicious cycle as the small room transformed into a tomb of sickness.

Crawling from the trunk, she pulled half her body onto the low bunk fixed to the wall
, and closed her eyes. She hadn’t considered sea sickness. She’d heard of such maladies before, but when she thought up this travesty of a plan it hadn’t crossed her mind. All her planning for this endeavor was rapidly unraveling. Olivia wished just once, when she thought up some foolish idea, a little angel would land upon her shoulder and redirect her. It was too late now. She would have to make it up as she went along, but first and foremost, she needed to get a handle on this sea sickness business. She opened her eyes a crack and saw the porthole bobbing up and down.

She promptly shut her eyes. She thought about standing and walking to the window, but her body felt too heavy. Even with her eyes closed
, the world moved around her in dizzying directions.

The ship tilted to an alarming degree suddenly
, and Devon’s trunk slid into her hip driving a yelp from her. On the bright side, the chamber pot slid free of its holdings and came to her aid. It was blessedly clean, but Olivia only had but a moment to appreciate that fact before she made use of it. She moaned uncontrollably as her body tensed and contracted against an empty stomach. She gagged and wretched until there was nothing left but her painful and ragged throat.

***

Jeffrey Colton Darling loved the sea. He loved the blast of salty air on his face as his ship rode the high swells, he loved the call of a gull merrily chasing the wind from his sails, and he loved the steady sound of ship life, comforting in its routine, as a constant back drop. He was born for this; chasing the horizon, walking the swaying and dipping deck. It was in his blood, in his brain, and he missed it every time he was on land for extended periods.

His crew was a mix of reformed ruffians and men battered by life. They did honest trading, honest building, but relished the intensity of battle. My Darling Emerald was not a ship meant for war, but she knew how to defend herself against thieving pirates.

This voyage was different from others however; they were headed to Amsterdam to find Colton’s friend, and brother in soul, as his father liked to say. Devon had left England chased by demons of unknown origins. Without warning he had left, and the only knowledge Colton had, was that he was somewhere in Amsterdam. It was so unlike Devon to run away from anything that Colton was a little more than worried. What would drive a man to abandon his life and family so suddenly? Colton had his suspicions; the heart can drive a man to do crazy things when a woman is involved. Colton knew all to well what the love of a woman, or lack there of, could do to a man’s heart. It was hell on earth wanting someone you could not have.

He stood at the helm watching his men work in the familiar rhythm. There was always the same excitement in the air when they first took to water
while land grew smaller and smaller behind them. They were not going far; by estimation with good winds and fair weather, it would take 5 to seven days to reach Amsterdam.

“
Cap’n Colton.”

Mr. Timms, his first mate, stood at his shoulder. Colton looked back not expecting the frown of worry marking his brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“
There is something you should see, Cap’n. I’ve discovered a stowaway.”

“
A stowaway? How the bloody hell did we not see a stowaway boarding this ship?” He looked around angrily, but none would meet his eyes. “Show me.”

He followed his first mate from the quarter deck to the hallway off the main deck.
“Below my bloody feet, eh?” He grumbled menacingly. He was surprised when they stopped immediately in the hall at one of the crew cabins. “You’ve got to be bloody jesting,” he snarled.

His first mate only raised his eye brows. He knew full well his captain was not angry with him
, but Captain Colton in a rage—which rarely happened—was a scary thing. He had yet to open the door and reveal their stowaway. “I suspect she stowed away in Lord Wilhelm’s traveling trunk.”

Colton turned to him. His jaw actually dropped
, and his blood turned to ice in his veins.
“She?”

“
Yes, Cap’n,” The first mate turned the nob and pushed the narrow door open.

Colton was hesitant to look. He was afraid he already knew who he would see when he looked in the cabin
, and his brain did not want to believe she would have done something so stupid, so reckless, and so dangerous. Colton could feel beads of cold sweat forming on his neck and brow. His stomach churned as he stepped into the door way and confirmed his worst fears.

“
Get Willy to clean this up.” His voice was hard and cold. Mr. Timms retreated quickly. Colton took note of the half empty trunk. He looked to the small form of the woman half leaning on the bunk. Anger—fear—there was a hurricane of emotion inside him.

“
What have you done, Olivia?” he growled.

Olivia twisted to look at him
, her eyes wide and imploring. “I need to help find my brother.”

He was furious, beyond furious. He was enraged, disgusted, and—and, well he didn’t know what else, but emotion poured from him
, and he didn’t like it. “And you thought this was a good idea? Stowing away on my ship in a trunk that could have been locked away in holding until we arrived in Amsterdam, found your brother, and opened his trunk to reveal his dead sister? Do you think that would help him? Jesus Christ, Olivia. When are you going to learn to think with your head and not your heart?”

“
I'm sorry,” she whimpered.

Colton’s anger dissipated. She looked green and miserable, and in need of fresh air. He walked forward and knelt beside her.
“What am I to do with you now, Livie?” he said softly.

She shook her head against the mattress of the bunk.
“Must something be done with me?”

“
Oh, absolutely, but first, you need some air.” Colton scooped her up in his arms and headed through the door way.

“
No, I don’t want to move.” Olivia protested and squirmed, but he held her as easily as if she were a child. With large strides, he carried her out to the main deck. Olivia was blinded by the sun at first, and then when she could see, she turned her face into Colton’s neck. Everyone on deck was staring at them. He climbed the stairs to the quarter deck and walked to the railing. He dropped her legs, and Olivia clung to him until she could feel the deck steady beneath her feet.

“
Look at the horizon, Livie.”

She shook her head against him.
In any other situation, he would be thoroughly enjoying holding her so close despite his crew all around. She had never clung to him so tightly before.

“
It will calm your stomach. The horizon never moves.”

Olivia tentatively turned towards the
sea. She stared out at the unmoving line and took deep relieved breaths. The air was definitely fresher than the small cabin. A crisp wind buffeted her cheeks and filled her lungs. Little by little, Olivia began to feel better, and the nausea subsided. The ship rose and fell with the sea, and delightedly, Olivia realized Colton’s arms were still firmly around her. She held onto him and leaned back against him.

“
Feeling better?”

Olivia nodded.
“A bit.”

“
Then come with me.” He escorted her back to his cabin and led her to a chair facing the large windows overlooking the sea and the steady horizon. “You should eat something.”

“
No food,” she moaned. The idea alone was enough to turn her stomach.