Alana

by Barrie, Monica

  “I’m being far from ridiculous, Mr. Harris. It’s a fair offer.” Watching the man carefully, Rafe did not miss the way his hand crept toward the desk drawer.

  “I wouldn’t do anything foolish,” Rafe advised, his voice still flat and unemotional.

  “Get out.”

  “You will not consider my offer?” Even as he spoke, Rafe’s muscles tensed; his legs were ready to spring him forward.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll consider,” Harris half shouted. Moving quickly, he opened the drawer.

  Rafe launched himself at Harris as he lifted a short-barreled pistol. Time seemed to slow as Rafe’s leg uncoiled, sending him arcing through the air toward Harris.

  Rafe’s hand locked onto Harris’s wrist. The force of his lunge carried him all the way across the desk. His shoulder rammed into Harris’s midsection, and he heard the man’s loud grunt mix with the clatter of falling debris.

  Then he and Harris were on the floor, Rafe struggling to disarm the man, Harris fighting to shoot Rafe. As they fought, Harris shouted loudly for help. Rafe knocked the gun from Harris’s grip and, using Harris’s lapels as levers, Rafe hauled Harris to his feet just as the door burst open and two dockworkers charged in.

  “Get him!” Harris yelled, twisting vainly in Rafe’s grip. The men advanced on him, and Rafe saw that both were large, burly men, used to lifting hundreds of pounds without thinking about it.

  Moving quickly, Rafe shoved Harris at the worker on his left and dove toward the other. Before the bigger man could react, Rafe’s fist met his unshaven chin. A bolt of pain shot along his arm, but his other hand was already in the man’s stomach. He heard a startled grunt, and the man doubled over. His other hand struck upward once again.

  A heartbeat later, the dockworker sank unconscious to the floor. Turning to face the other two, Rafe saw that Harris had untangled himself from the second worker and the bigger man was charging at him.

  Rafe ducked a wildly thrown punch and, catlike, hit the man in the stomach. Unlike the first, this man didn’t react to the blow, and Rafe knew he had a real fight on his hands.

  Rafe ducked another roundhouse blow that, if it had landed, would have broken his jaw. Spinning, Rafe lashed out with his fist. The second it connected, he released his other hand.

  The instant he swung, he knew he was too late. Before his fist reached the man, an explosion of pain erupted in his chest. The dockworker had struck first and struck hard.

  Recovering quickly, Rafe backed away from the dockworker. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harris rising from the floor, the short-barreled pistol in his hand.

  “I have him covered,” Harris declared.

  The remaining dockworker looked at Harris for instructions.

  Rafe watched them both, his chest rising and falling powerfully, his mind racing as he slowly reached for the pistol tucked into the waistband at the small of his back.

  “Hurt him, Bailey. Make him remember his mistake,” Harris ordered with a nasty smile on his lips.

  The dockworker started forward but stopped when yet another voice interrupted.

  “You do that, Bailey, and your boss is a dead man,” drawled Caleb Magee.

  Rafe exhaled as the prospector stepped into the office, his long-barreled Colt pointed at Harris’s head.

  “Drop it, mister,” Caleb ordered.

  Harris did, and the big dockworker backed away from Rafe.

  “I thought I asked you not to come here,” Rafe said to Caleb as he drew his own pistol from its hidden holster.

  “Is that what you said?” Caleb replied innocently. “Glad you didn’t need my help. Are you finished with them now?”

  “Not by a long shot, old timer,” Rafe replied. Going over to Harris, he stared unblinkingly at the man. Then he smiled; it wasn’t a nice smile at all.

  The office manager’s eyes widened; his face turned ashen. “What are you going to do?”

  “Are you the same man who just told Bailey to hurt me? To hurt me bad?”

  “I made a mistake,” Harris pleaded.

  “Yes,” Rafe agreed, using the same fiat voice he had earlier, “a couple of them.”

  Rafe cocked the pistol and lifted it. Still smiling, he placed the tip of the barrel near the center of Harris’s forehead.

  “Mr. Harris, you have exactly five seconds to tell me what I want to hear. If you don’t, I kill you.”

  Behind Rafe, Harris saw Caleb Magee smile. His fright increased threefold. His raised hands shook visibly, and his legs did the same. His mouth was parched, and his heart threatened to explode with fear.

  “I don’t know,” he pleaded weakly.

  Rafe’s nasty smile disappeared, his mouth thinned into a tight, narrow line. He began to count. “One. Two. Three. Four.” On four, Rafe pressed the barrel firmly into Harris’s skin.

  “Al–Allison. James Allison,” Harris shouted, his voice breaking with the name.

  Startled, Rafe shook his head, unable to believe his ears. “James Allison of Allison Shipping?”

  “Y-y-yes,” Harris stammered.

  Rafe looked at the dockworker. “Take care of your friend,” he ordered. When the man moved toward his still-unconscious cohort, Rafe withdrew the gun from Harris’s forehead, but he did not lower or uncock it.

  “Why?” he asked, his eyes piercing in their intensity.

  “I don’t know the answer to that, mister. I’m only the office manager,” Harris whined.

  Instantly, Rafe pressed the barrel back on Harris’s forehead. “You’re not from here, Harris, you’re from New York. I checked that out. That’s why I came to you. You’re the only man who knows everything about this company.”

  Rafe’s words faded as a new connection struck him, one that he had not thought about before. “Allison himself put you here, didn’t he? He doesn’t trust your bosses.”

  Harris shook his head in denial, knowing that to admit such a thing might cost him even more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. Allison controls it all, doesn’t he? Doesn’t he?” Rafe shouted, pushing the barrel painfully against Harris’s skin.

  “Yes,” the man finally admitted. “Caruthers and Murdock are a front for Allison’s consortium.”

  The admission sent waves of anger charging through Rafe’s mind, but he showed no emotion at all. Instead, he carefully stepped back and turned to Caleb. “I think we’re finished now.”

  “It’s about time, Rafe,” Caleb said pointedly. Together, the two men backed to the doorway and raced down the stairs and into the street.

  When they were two blocks away, they stopped. Rafe looked at Caleb, his eyes as hard as emeralds.

  “I’m going to New York, Caleb.”

  In the office, Reginald Harris was still remembering looking into the barrel of Rafe’s gun and thinking about the death he’d just narrowly escaped.

  Then the name the old man had called the younger one registered in his mind. There was something familiar about that unusual name. Rafe? Where had he heard it before?

  Suddenly, Harris knew. Rafe had to be Rafael Montgomery. Only Montgomery was supposed to be dead.

  Without looking at the two men, Harris raced out of his office. He would have to send word to Allison and warn him of the resurrection of Rafael Montgomery. Perhaps, Harris thought, something good might come of today’s disaster.

  ~~~~~

  “If you worry about Riverbend, you will never be able to do your best for the shipping company,” Crystal warned Alana.

  Looking up at the night sky, Alana sighed softly. It was a beautiful, clear evening. A half-moon hung in the heavens above Riverbend, bestowing a gentle cast on the flowers and bushes in the garden.

  Behind the women, sounds of laughter mixed with the low babble of voices as Crystal’s women entertained their customers in the main house.

  “I know what I must do, but it’s not easy,” Alana admitted.

  “Of course it isn’t, but it’s neces
sary. Alana, we’ll grow, and when we do, we’ll have the power to fight Ledoque and the others!”

  Alana smiled hesitantly at Crystal. “I can still be nervous, can’t I? I’ve never been away from this part of the country. Crystal, I’ve–I’ve never even been on a large ship.”

  “You will love it. Tomorrow you’ll learn about the wonder of the freedom and openness of the ocean. Don’t be afraid of it, Alana. When you board the ship tomorrow, look toward the future, not at the past.”

  The scent of magnolia teased her nostrils; the call of the owl was comfortingly familiar. “Ben will handle the plantation. He’s a good man and a good overseer,” Alana said at last.

  “I know,” Crystal replied.

  Alana had nothing else to say. Crystal sensed Alana wanted to be by herself for a little while, so she embraced her and returned to the house to look after business.

  Alone, Alana breathed deeply of the night scents. A thousand thoughts raced in her mind. Memories of the past twenty months blurred her sight. She recalled the heavy passions that Rafe had brought out in her, and the powerful love he invoked settled around her.

  She walked to the gazebo and sat on the divan where she and Rafe had shared their love, and she thought of the short time they’d had together. But before she let sadness overtake her, she left the gazebo.

  Walking aimlessly through the garden, her memories of Jason and of their life together replayed themselves before her eyes. She relived the bad times and remembered those last, peaceful weeks.

  Time had nubed the horror of Jason’s death and the memories she had of him now were only of the gentle man that she had always known he was.

  On the heels of her good memories, hatred and disgust for Charles Ledoque rose within her. Her rage at what he had done to the shipping business, to her, and to the two innocent horses made her head spin.

  Alana stopped walking and looked around. She found herself standing in front of the four rosebushes, staring intently at them without really seeing them. The love she had for Rafe and the tender, sisterly feeling she’d always bestowed upon Jason stirred her heart. But, it was the hatred she held for Ledoque that gripped her and fed her determination.

  “I will beat you!” she declared to the image of Ledoque that was floating before her eyes. “You will never destroy us! Never!”

  Then, with the moonlight filtering over the rosebushes, Alana saw a sight she had not seen in over five years. Months before it should, her mother’s bush had given birth to one small bud.

  Bending slowly, she knelt on the soft earth and carefully cupped the little bud between her palms. “At last,” she whispered, ignoring the tears that fell from her eyes.

  17

  Alana stood on the dock, the strong noon sun pouring down on her head. Her large-brimmed hat matched her blue traveling dress and accented her strong blue eyes.

  The Harmony, the larger of the two clipper ships of the Landow Company, rested at anchor two hundred yards from where Alana stood, her holds filled to capacity for the short trip to New York harbor. The dock itself was just calming down after several hours of frenzied activity. All that remained was the loading of Alana’s three trunks into the longboat. Above, sea gulls cried out in their never-ending quest for food.

  Lorelei stood silently, having already said her tearful goodbye to Alana and having extracted a promise that when Alana was settled in New York, she would send for her.

  Chaco waited three steps behind Crystal while the two young women spoke. His eyes were never still, and his body never relaxed.

  “It will not be easy,” Crystal said again, “but then, your life has not been one of ease. Be wary of everyone, trust only yourself and your instincts,” she cautioned.

  “I shall miss you,” Alana said truthfully.

  “And I shall miss you,” Crystal replied. Emotion welled up strongly within her as she tried, but failed, to manage a smile. “But what we are doing is important.”

  “I know.”

  The first mate of the Harmony came up to them and fingered the bill on his cap. “We have to leave now, Mrs. Landow.”

  Alana opened her arms to Crystal. The two women embraced tightly, but as Alana started away, Crystal stopped her with a gentle touch.

  Alana looked at her friend questioningly as Crystal called Chaco to them. “Chaco is going with you. He will protect you in New York.” Alana’s mouth formed a protest, but Crystal cut her off. “You do not know that place. You will need him,” she stated.

  Alana started to object, but Crystal waved her hand to stop her words. “Trust me, Alana. It is important. Without Chaco, anything might happen.”

  Alana gazed into her friend’s eyes and saw concern within them. “All right,” she said in a low voice.

  Crystal nodded to Chaco, who turned and picked up a canvas bag. Without another word from Crystal, he went to the edge of the dock and waited for Alana.

  With a soft sigh, Alana turned and walked toward the waiting longboat.

  The first mate offered her his hand to help her down, but Chaco, after tossing his bag into the boat, reached Alana’s side and handed her into the boat himself. Alana smiled at him.

  When everyone was seated, and the longboat had started on its way to the Harmony, Alana gazed back at Crystal and Lorelei, who waved their final farewells. Alana refused to let her emotions surface, and as the faces of her friends grew smaller, she held her head proudly.

  ~~~~~

  “What?” Ledoque screamed to the woman who stood before him. His rage sent shivers of fear skittering through the young prostitute’s mind. “Why didn’t you get to me sooner?” he demanded.

  “I couldn’t get away. Crystal only allowed me to come with them today because I told her I might be pregnant and had to see the doctor.”

  “Damn it all! Are you sure?”

  The woman nodded her head slowly as she repeated what she had said only minutes earlier. “Mrs. Landow is going to New York on the Harmony. She is going there to set up the new office for her company.”

  “It was that meddling whore’s idea, wasn’t it?” The question was more a growl than words.

  The young woman nodded her head again.

  “Get out, damn you, get out!”

  “My money?” she asked, her greed making her brave.

  Ledoque almost refused her, but even in his frantic state, he knew that he might still need her services. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of coins, which he tossed disdainfully to her. As the coins clattered to the floor, Ledoque was already racing out of his office.

  On East Bay Street, he paused to look out at the harbor. In the distance, its sails already unfurled, the Harmony was heading gracefully out to sea.

  The sight of the clipper ship galvanized Ledoque into immediate action. Not caring that his usual dignified demeanor was notably absent, he raced toward one of his own docks, hoping he would not be too late.

  Crystal Revanche had spoiled his perfect plan. He had refined the details of the plan until he knew that nothing could possibly go wrong and soon he would be able to claim Alana for himself.

  Ledoque had believed his scheme to be foolproof. He had arranged, through indirect channels, for a reputable agent in New York to offer Alana and Crystal a commission that they could not turn down. The agent himself did not know the original commission came from Ledoque; he believed it to be from the Marquette Shipping Company.

  When the women had accepted the contract, Ledoque knew he had Alana within his grasp, for he had issued orders to his most trusted captain to capture the Harmony before it reached New York; the cargo transferred to his own ship, the Harmony sunk, and any survivors were to die so that no word of the piracy could be learned.

  He had never expected Alana to be on that ship. “Damn!” he shouted as he reached the dock. Several workers turned to look at him, but the minute their eyes met his, they turned away.

  Ledoque breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the captain of his ship had not yet left
the dock.

  “Carson!” Ledoque shouted at the large man.

  The captain turned in surprise. “Something wrong?” Carson asked, taking in Ledoque’s strained features.

  “A change of plans,” Ledoque called. “I will be accompanying you on this voyage. We will leave on the evening tide.”

  “But–” Carson began. Ledoque, not wanting any witnesses to their words, quickly cut him off.

  “Come with me,” Ledoque commanded.

  “Yes, sir,” the captain said. He turned to his second mate, who was waiting in a longboat. “Have the ship made fast,” he ordered.

  As they walked down the dock, Ledoque told the captain he would travel aboard the ship to New York. Once Alana Landow left the Harmony and the boat was loaded with its new cargo and bound for South Africa, the captain was to capture her. Killing all hands was necessary, for they still could not chance any witnesses. Instead of sinking the Harmony, they would change its name and sail it to Africa as one of the Marquette ships.

  The captain smiled when Ledoque finished speaking, and Ledoque finally composed himself, sure that this time he would at last bring Alana Landow to her knees.

  Eighteen days after he had gotten the vital information from Reginald Harris, Rafe had arrived in New York and had begun his own investigation into James Allison and his consortium. In the week that he spent investigating Allison, he had been able to learn only a little more. On this day, he was dressing to meet with the attorney who would lead him through the bureaucratic maze and help him to meet James Allison and his secretive consortium.

  Rafe had figured out what the consortium appeared to be up to, but his main concern was to expose Allison as a thief and murderer and to avenge his sister’s death. In order to do that, Rafe knew he had to infiltrate Allison’s organization.

  Rafe had let his beard grow during the trip; because of its denseness, the three-week growth was already turning into a well-defined look that masked his strong features. Although he had never met James Allison, he knew it was always possible that someone involved with Allison might recognize him as Rafael Montgomery.

  Rafe’s plan was amazingly simple. He would pose as a wealthy businessman looking for investments and power–the very things that James Allison would respect.