26

Tom didn’t have to borrow a boat to search for Rourke. The captain had already arrived at the landing along with most of the crew. They gathered in force, lanterns in hand.

“I’m sure glad to see you.” Tom forgot his subordinate position and clapped Rourke on the back.

Rourke looked surprised at first and then returned the gesture. “And I, you. We’ve been searching for you for days.” He turned Tom toward the west. “Then tonight we saw the sky light up.”

Tom’s jaw dropped at the orange glow in the sky. “Fire.”

“I’d say so,” the sheriff said. “Better get the men together.”

“From that direction, I’d say it’s at Black Oak,” Judge Graham added.

Tom’s innards knotted. “Catherine.”

“It could be the cane or one of the outbuildings,” the judge suggested.

Tom recalled the lanterns placed next to the overgrown yard. Even if the grass had caught fire, it wouldn’t make a blaze large enough to light the sky. The only thing that would . . . “It’s the plantation house.”

Rourke cut through the speculation. “My men will help fight the fire. You have a carriage. Would you bring Tom and myself and as many men as your rig can bear?”

“Of course,” the judge said. “We can take four or five, including myself and the sheriff.”

In the end, they squeezed eight into the carriage. Soon they were lumbering up the road as fast as the horses could manage. At this pace, all of Black Oak would burn to the ground before they arrived.

“I’ll run,” Tom offered. “Slow down and I’ll hop off.”

Rourke held his arm. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“But Catherine—”

“Is already beyond reach. If the house is on fire, she either got out already or has perished.”

Though that offered no consolation, Tom knew Rourke was right. Flames licked above the treetops. No human could have survived such a blaze unless he or she had already left the building.

DeMornay. Tom clenched his fists. That deceiver could die. But what about the servants?

“Aurelia. The children,” he gasped. “What if they’re inside?”

“We must pray for their safety.”

That wasn’t enough. “I need to get there. I can run, and once I’m off the carriage it’ll be a lighter load for the horses.”

Tom edged toward the side, prepared to jump, but Rourke didn’t release him.

“A dead man won’t be able to help them,” Rourke said.

Though Tom understood his caution, the image of Catherine surrounded by flames filled him with terror. He must get to her. He must ensure her safety. With a sharp yank, he pulled free and leapt off the carriage and onto the roadway. The impact sent him to his knees. The dirt was unforgiving. The stones bit into his hands, but nothing was broken.

The carriage slowed. Voices murmured. Rourke called out.

Tom scrambled to his feet and plunged forward into the shadows, at first stumbling and then running. The carriage resumed its course, slowly at first and then at a much more rapid pace. The crunch of wheels and clop of hooves quieted until he was alone.

Still, the dreadful glow of the night sky foretold a tragic end.

Tom struggled to catch his breath and had to slow.

Then out of the darkness, figures began to emerge, all huddled together.

“Who goes there?” Tom called out.

“Tom?” a faint voice asked.

Catherine. It was Catherine.

“They cannot have survived.” Catherine clung to Tom, and he held her just as desperately.

“Who?”

“Aurelia and DeMornay. They were surrounded by fire, struggling for the knife.” The image was burned in her mind. “I didn’t want to leave, but . . .” Catherine drew a breath, hoping it would quiet the sobs that threatened. “She gave her life.”

His hand, which had been rubbing her back in consolation, stilled. “For you.”

“For her children. We must take them to freedom. Somewhere. I will go anywhere that guarantees that.” The urgency pounded away selfish tears. “We must hurry before someone catches us and forces them to stay.”

“No one will force any of you to stay.” Tom broke the embrace, and the resulting distance between them made her shiver.

She pulled the children close. “I can’t believe that. Only when I’m safely away from here will I rest.”

Tom hesitated, and she realized he had no power to bring her anywhere. Captain O’Malley could, but he and his crewmen had raced to the plantation in the carriage.

“Forgive me for overhearing your conversation.” Judge Graham stepped into the patch of moonlight on the road.

Tom started. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I left the carriage when it stopped to lighten the load. A man of my age is not a great deal of help in fighting a fire.” He turned to Catherine. “Mr. Worthington is correct. Papers were drawn this very night confirming your ownership of the plantation’s, uh, property.”

His glance toward the children left no doubt which “property” he meant.

“What if the transfer of ownership—” Even as she spoke, she realized it must have burned with the rest of the plantation house. “It’s gone.”

“If it was in the house.”

“It was. I saw it.”

“Then,” the judge said, “you are majority owner of Black Oak. You might have to compensate your cousins for the loss of, um, property.”

Catherine shuddered. The dream that had glistened before her all those years had become too tarnished to bear. This way of life relied on the oppression of others. She could not live with that. “Let them have the plantation.”

“You are understandably overwrought. Even if the main house burns to the ground, the land has value. I urge you to at least offer it for sale.”

Tom seconded the judge’s recommendation.

“I cannot think on that.” Her mind whirled toward the only thing that mattered. “All I want is to ensure these three children and their mother, if she is . . .” If Aurelia had died, she could not break that news to the children now. “They must be brought to freedom.”

The judge nodded. “I understand.”

“What of the other slaves?” Tom asked.

An answer popped into her mind. “Judge Graham, would you handle the sale of the plantation and use the proceeds to reunite the remaining slaves with their families? I suspect many have been brought here from elsewhere.”

“That is a difficult challenge,” the judge said slowly, “but a worthy one. I will do my best.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I trust you to handle everything. I must leave here as soon as possible and bring Angel, Gibson, and Hunter to freedom.”

“We will.” Tom rubbed the oldest boy’s head. “We’ll go to Key West. How would you like to be a deckhand, Gibson?”

The boy squared his shoulders. “I wanna be captain.”

The men chuckled. Catherine blinked back tears, but it was useless. They came.

“Why you cry, Miz Cattrin?” little Angel asked.

Catherine couldn’t answer while struggling to stop the sobs.

“Here comes the carriage,” the judge announced.

Tom handed Catherine a handkerchief, and she wiped her eyes as the carriage pulled to a stop beside them.

“A total loss,” Captain O’Malley said. “There wasn’t anything we could do.”

“Survivors?” Catherine whispered.

He shook his head. “Just the field workers. They were trying to put out the blaze, but a few buckets of water didn’t make one bit of difference. I had them douse the kitchen and worker quarters so they have a place to live and something to eat for the time being, but arrangements will need to be made.”

“I’ll see to that,” the judge offered. “I’ll send for Henry Lafreniere in the morning.” He nodded to Catherine. “If he agrees to your terms—and I suspect he will once he learns that he’s not the legal owner and that a warrant was issued to search the house for evidence of trafficking slaves—I’ll have the necessary paperwork ready for you to sign. We would like to have you as our guests tonight—you, the children, and Mr. Worthington. I’m sorry we can’t house your entire crew, Captain.”

“My ship is nearby. We have berths there.”

Now that everything was falling into place, Catherine’s strength ebbed. “Thank you for your kindness,” she managed to whisper before the ground began to heave and the landscape to swirl.

“Sit her down.”

“Bring her to the carriage.”

She heard the voices but couldn’t distinguish who said what. She swayed. Then strong arms lifted her. She nestled her head against his shoulder. Tom. She knew his touch, the scent of him, anywhere. He kissed her forehead, and she drew a deep breath.

He set her on a seat.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

“I’ll be back once I get the children into the carriage.”

She was willing to let him go for that long. “Return at once.”

He laughed. “You can count on that. I don’t plan to leave your side any longer than I need to.” His voice sobered. “Ever.”

The word washed over her as the cooler night air settled around them. Soon this would all be over. But Tom would remain. That was more than enough.

Cool sea breezes ruffled Catherine’s hair two weeks later. As expected, cousin Henry had agreed to her terms at once. Their meeting in New Orleans was short and businesslike. Black Oak was no longer hers, and she didn’t regret it. Days of sorrow and anguish had finally given way to expectation for the future. The sun shone. The breezes blew steadily, and the James Patrick made excellent time. How good it felt to let her hair flow free of any encumbrance.

Tom approached from the stern and met her at the forecastle.

“I’m never wearing a bonnet again.”

“Never?” He joined her at the rail. “Not even to church?”

“Perhaps to church. You attend?”

“Every Sunday that I’m in port. Rourke taught me how important faith is, but I didn’t really understand that until I met you.”

Her heart swelled. “You’re only saying that to win my affection.”

“Did it work?”

She laughed. How good it felt. Here on the James Patrick she was surrounded by love.

The children had wept when she told them their mother had died. The boys soon wiped their eyes and feigned stony resolution, but Angel could not be consoled until Catherine repeated over and over that this is what her mother wanted, that she and her brothers make a new life with her in Key West.

“You will be free there,” Catherine had told them, but they didn’t understand what that meant. Aurelia had believed DeMornay would soon sell the boys. Angel’s fate—given what had happened to her mother—would have been far worse. It was all too much for her to think about.

Better to hold on to the future that Tom promised.

She leaned close to him. “You caught my attention the very first day on the Justinian. That confident grin of yours was a challenge.”

“Which you attempted to best, if I remember correctly.”

“Naturally. You needed a little smoothing out around the edges.”

“Isn’t that like a woman,” Tom said to Rourke, who had come on deck to peer at a passing island. “Always trying to change us.”

“Successfully, if we are willing, and for the better.” Rourke tapped a finger on his spyglass. “Take my advice. It’ll go better for you if you submit to a little renovation.”

Catherine laughed, but Tom looked chagrined.

She threaded an arm around his. “Don’t fear. It will be practically painless.”

“Practically?”

“Easier than raising three boisterous children.”

He glanced at Gibson, who had taken his duty of ringing the watch very seriously, and the two younger ones, who followed on their oldest brother’s heels. “I would look forward to raising them with you.”

Catherine teasingly shook her finger at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“The differences of culture?”

How witless could a man be? She huffed and moved away.

“What, then?”

She faced him, hands on her hips. “Don’t act so dull-minded. You know exactly what I mean.”

He leaned on the rail. “I suppose we would have to be married to raise children.”

She gasped and spun away from the cad. “If that’s what you consider a proposal—”

He caught her in a flash and stopped her protest with the sweetest kiss ever. The passion warmed her clear to her toes.

“Oh my,” she gasped when his lips left hers.

“Is that a start?” His grin shone brighter than the tropical sun.

“A beginning.”

“I have more persuasion where that came from.” He leaned close.

This time she stopped him with a hand to his lips. “Aren’t you being a bit forward? We aren’t even courting.”

He stepped back and bowed. “I have been courting you, my lady, from the moment I first saw you.”

Normally she would have laughed at such silliness, but he wasn’t jesting. When he rose from the bow, mirth didn’t twinkle in his eyes. Neither were his lips curved with delight. This declaration was serious.

She drew in her breath. Was he . . . ?

“I haven’t a ring to offer as a pledge, only my heart.”

“You already gave up what was dearest to you for my sake—your father’s ship. I still can’t believe you didn’t want to claim it.”

He shook his head. “Not once I learned the purpose for which it had been used.”

“Smuggling slaves,” she breathed out.

“From Cuba. I could never sail such a ship.”

“But what will become of the ship now that DeMornay is gone?” His charred body had been found alongside Aurelia’s, still locked in mortal combat.

“Judge Graham promised to sell it and add the proceeds to your quest to reunite families that DeMornay had torn apart. At last Pa’s ship can serve a noble purpose.”

Tears rose in her eyes. “Thanks to the generosity of an honorable man.” She squeezed his hand. “I wish to continue helping families.” She glanced at the three children seated in a circle on the deck. “Not just Aurelia’s children but any others God leads into our path.”

“Our?” That grin resurfaced. “Then you will consider my suit?”

Though she wanted to cry yes at once, she could not resist a little fun. “No, I couldn’t possibly.”

His joy evaporated. “I’m sorry. I should never have presumed.”

She let out a laugh before he tumbled into despair. “I’m not interested in a long courtship, Mr. Worthington. I am seeking a partnership of the highest sort.”

Slowly, the grin returned. “Marriage? You will marry me?”

“If you ask properly. A woman does expect that much, even from a wrecker.”

“Especially from a wrecker.” He got down on one knee and looked up at her, his brown eyes twinkling. “My dearest Catherine, from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend my life loving. You are more beautiful than the most expensive jewel, more intelligent than most men, and so engaging that I cannot sleep at night without thinking of your laughter. Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She could no longer tease, not after such a declaration.

“I will. Yes, I will.”

He leapt up and swept her into his arms. Then he gave her a kiss that made her forget everything that had happened and all that was going on around them. A sailor’s whistle and laughter drew her back.

“Well done, Worthington,” the men said.

Even Rourke was grinning.

Tom paid them no attention. He focused only on her. “From what you’ve told me of your mother, she would be pleased.”

“She would. Love always came first to her. She would have adored you, Tom.”

“And my father would have loved you.” His grin was infectious. “Best of all, we love each other.”

“That we do,” she managed before he smothered the words with another kiss.

She let herself get lost in it.

A cry from above brought her back to the present. “Land ahoy!”

Tom ended the kiss, shot to the rail, and tugged open his spyglass. “Key West. Home.”

Home. Her heart thrilled as she joined him, Angel at her side. At last she had found home.