Love and Honor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 7

by Patricia Hagan

  “One moment.”

  Kit waited impatiently until she heard Valerie say hello. “It’s Kit Coltrane,” she announced. “My brother asked me to call you, and—”

  “Oh, Kit! What’s going on?” Valerie burst out. “I’ve been out of my mind! I couldn’t find Travis in Washington. Why hasn’t he called me? My father’s been like a madman since the other night, and he won’t talk to me about it. I just don’t know what’s going on!”

  “Travis wanted me to call you, because he can’t,” Kit explained. “We don’t know what’s wrong with Mother, but something else has happened. Our grandmother passed away.”

  “Oh, Kit, I’m so sorry…”

  Kit hurried to tell her of the plans, glancing over her shoulder, lest her father come through the lobby and see her on the phone.

  Valerie started crying. “Oh, that’s not fair. Why does that woman hate me so? What have I ever done to her? Kit, I love your brother with all my heart. I know it happened quickly, but I also know I could never love anybody the way I love him. That’s why I’m willing to wait for him to finish four years at West Point, even longer, if I have to. How can she object to that?”

  “I don’t know,” Kit repeated. “I wish I could help you, but I’ve tried to talk to her and it just doesn’t do any good.”

  “Travis has to meet me somewhere. I’ve got to talk to him.”

  “I’ll be glad to get a message to him. Just tell me where and when.”

  “The library at Fifth and Forty-second,” Valerie said immediately. “My mother has been after me to go there, so my father won’t be suspicious when I do. Make it in an hour.”

  Kit could not promise that Travis could be there that soon. “So much is going on, Valerie. Mother is watching him like a hawk. I’m going to have to find a way to tell him without her overhearing. Let me see what I can do and call you back.”

  “No!” Valerie cried. “It has to be then. My father will be home soon, and if I don’t leave before he gets here, he’ll ask a lot of questions. If he’s the least bit suspicious, he won’t let me go anywhere. Please have Travis meet me there in an hour! It may be our only chance to talk for months! Everybody is against us…” Valerie started to cry as she hung up the phone.

  Kit hurried back upstairs, expecting to face her mother’s wrath. Instead she found only Carasia, who told her that the whole family, even Travis, had gone to be fitted for mourning clothes. They expected her to meet them, and Carasia handed her a slip of paper with the address.

  Kit sighed with frustration. Valerie was going to be waiting at the library in vain. She decided that there was nothing to do but go there and let her know what had happened.

  She reached the library half an hour early. Hurrying to a nearby restaurant, she asked to use their telephone. When the White Star Line offices answered, she was thrilled to discover that the ship she planned to hide on was the very one on which she’d sailed over. She knew where it was docked, and she knew her way around the vessel. Stowing away would not be so difficult after all!

  Filled with relief, Kit headed back to the library. Valerie was standing there, her golden hair tumbling about her face, her blue eyes wide with excitement.

  “Is he coming? This is our last chance! My father called just as I was leaving and told me that we’re going to Bermuda first thing in the morning. There won’t be another time for me to see Travis!”

  “Valerie, calm down.” Kit tried to explain why Travis could not be there. “Everything is turned upside down, Valerie,” she finished apologetically. “My heart goes out to you, but I just don’t know what I can do. If you’ll give me your address in Bermuda, maybe he can write to you there.”

  “My father would intercept any mail for me,” Valerie wailed miserably. “And I’m sure your mother will do the same if I try to get in touch with Travis.”

  Kit agreed that was very likely. “You’ll just have to write to him at the Point. That’s only a few months away.”

  Valerie bit her lip. “That’s an eternity when you love someone.” She was quiet for a few seconds. Then she cried excitedly, “You can help us! Just give me a list of the countries you plan to visit in Europe. I can write to him in care of the American embassies there. Surely he can sneak away long enough to go and pick up his mail.”

  “No.” Kit shook her head. “I told you—it’s only for a few months, and mail would take nearly that long.”

  “Then you write to me!” Valerie said brightly. “Just write me a few lines any chance you get and tell me how he is. Refer to him by another name, though, so if my father sees my mail, he won’t know who you’re talking about.”

  Kit couldn’t let Valerie harbor false hopes. “I’m sorry,” she said regretfully, “I can’t because—”

  “I thought you liked me!” Valerie cried. “I thought you were my friend, that I could trust you to help me. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Valerie turned and started to walk away, her head bowed in defeat.

  Kit ran after her and spun her around. “No! It’s not like that at all! I do like you, Valerie. Believe me, I’d help you if I could, but I can’t, because…” Her voice trailed off as she bit her lip thoughtfully.

  Valerie was looking at her intently. “Please,” she begged, “tell me why you won’t help me.”

  Kit hesitated for another moment, then she threw caution to the wind. It really made no difference—Valerie was not going to be in touch with her family, anyway. “I’m not going to Europe with them,” she said boldly. “I’m running away. I’m going back to Spain—tonight.”

  Valerie gasped so loudly that several passersby turned to stare. Kit then told her everything. It was such a relief to have someone to confide in that she even told Valerie about Kurt Tanner and the Hispano. “So, you see,” she finished breathlessly, “I have no choice but to run away. I refuse to let my parents dictate to me any longer.”

  Valerie clasped her hand. “I admire you, Kit, for being strong enough to go on alone. I wish I were like you. My parents have always dictated to me, too, especially my father. He’s determined that I’m going to marry the son of a friend of his who lives in Bermuda, but he’s wrong. I’ll never marry anyone but your brother, and I’m going to wait for him, no matter how long it takes!”

  Kit assured her that Travis would find a way to get in touch with her sooner or later. “He told me that he loves you, and he’s miserable the way things are. Everything will work out, I know it will.” Kit opened her purse and found pencil and paper. “Here’s my address so you can write to me. When the time is right, I’ll contact my family and let them know where I am, and I’ll write to Travis as soon as he starts at the Point. The two of you can use me as a go-between if you like.”

  Valerie hugged her. “I always had a feeling we’d be good friends! You have to promise to write to me and let me know how you’re doing. I’m going to be worried about you stowing away on that ship, so you be careful,” she added with a frown.

  “That’s the least of my problems. All I have to do is make my way to the hold where they keep the animals and hide out in one of the empty stables.”

  “Do you have enough money? I can give you what I have in my bag—”

  “I’m fine,” Kit assured her, wishing it were really true.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was time.

  Kit threw back the covers and quietly got out of bed. Padding silently to the door, she leaned against it to listen intently. She could hear nothing, everyone was asleep. She pulled out the bundle of clothing she had taken from Travis’s trunk earlier. A woman would arouse attention at the docks as this late hour, so she had decided to disguise herself as a boy. She tucked in the too-big shirt and rolled up the cuffs of the pants. Pinning up her long, golden-red hair, she tucked every strand beneath the borrowed derby.

  She wrote a hasty note, saying that she was going away to live her own life. No one was to worry—she had plans and money, and would be in touch later. Kit made a perfunctory request that s
he be forgiven, and left the folded paper lying on the coffee table in the parlor.

  The need to stay hidden on the ship for five days was going to make it difficult to find food, so she took some bread and cookies, and a small jug of water from the little tea kitchen.

  Finally, glancing about one last time, Kit took a deep breath…and the first step toward her destiny.

  Her feet ached in the large, ill-fitting shoes, and she had a painful stitch in her side from walking quickly along the cobbled side streets.

  As she neared the waterfront, she paused to rest. In the distance she could see a blaze of lights and frenzied activity. The pier was busy with men loading cargo onto the Olympia. She could see the mighty ship glowing in the dock lights, and her heart began to pound with excitement. Soon she would be free and independent. That idea was so exhilarating that it made her present tension and weariness bearable.

  Kit moved cautiously among the crates. Some of the rows were so narrow that she had to inch her way along, praying that she wouldn’t get wedged in and trapped. It seemed to take forever, but at last she faced a wide, empty space before the next stack of cargo. Not seeing anyone, she took a deep breath and ran as fast as she could for what looked like rows of large barrels. She had just reached them when she heard a male cry sharply, “Hey, what was that?”

  “Giant rat!” another voice cackled gleefully. “Go on with ye, Jordie. Take yer swig and gimme back my bottle.”

  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.”