by Jill Barnett
“Don’t you touch her!” Hallie yelled, but the front door had already slammed shut.
“Come with me,” she ordered Duncan, and ran into the house with him following close behind. When she reached the hallway, she heard Kit shouting at Liv in his study. She tried to open the door but it was locked.
“Open this door!” she shouted, banging on the thick wood.
“I’m taking care of this, Hallie. Go away!” Kit answered.
“No!” she yelled back, but no sounds came from within. She banged harder on the door and still heard nothing. She turned to Duncan, who was standing by Maddie and the curious twins.
“Break it down, please, Duncan.”
“What?”
“Come along, boys. This doesn’t concern us,” Maddie said, herding the twins back into the kitchen.
“Break it down,” Hallie repeated.
“I don’t think Kit’s gonna like that—”
“I don’t care.” Hallie interrupted. “Either you break it down or I will.” She grabbed a lead doorstop and raised it above the doorknob.
“Wait!” Duncan said. “I’ll break it down.” He stepped back and kicked the metal plate just above the lock. With a loud crack the door popped open.
Hallie was inside in a flash. Kit sat behind his desk, holding Liv as she cried her soul out. Her sister’s sobbing story froze Hallie in her tracks.
“ . . . and she died because I killed her!” Liv wailed.
Hallie put aside her anger at her lying husband. She could tell Kit off later, but right now Liv was crying hysterically, something she never, ever did. Hallie went to the chair and knelt by the sobbing girl, touching her hesitantly on her shuddering shoulder.
“Come here, sweetpea, tell me what’s wrong.” Hallie pulled her from Kit’s lying, traitorous arms. “What is it? Please tell me.”
Liv clung to Hallie. “I killed her, Hallie. It was me. I killed Mama . . .” Liv wailed into Hallie’s shoulder.
Hallie rocked her sister slowly, as she hadn’t been able to since Liv was three. “No you didn’t, sweetpea. Mama died from a disease.”
“I’m not sweet, don’t call me that! Sweet people don’t kill their mothers!” Liv cried.
“That’s not true, Liv.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, I know Mama caught it from me. Remember how sick I was, and then Mama got sick and then sicker, and then she died. And none of you ever said anything, but I knew it. I knew that if I hadn’t got sick, Mama wouldn’t have died. It’s my fault, a-and I need her, Hallie. I need her—” Liv broke into more heaving sobs.
The chair creaked, and Kit, who had been absorbing this whole scene, stood and quietly walked over to the door. Hallie watched it close behind him, thankful that he’d left them alone. She rocked Liv while the miserable young girl cried so hard she could barely catch a breath.
“Liv, look at me.” Hallie forced her sister’s chin up. “Mama died of peritonitis. Do you know what that is?”
Liv shook her head.
“You didn’t give it to her. You just had a cold. Mama had tuberculosis, and it came on so fast, she only had the symptoms for a few days. Before anything could be done, she had developed peritonitis, and she died less than a day later. Mama had the sickness growing inside long before you were ever ill.”
“She did?” Liv whispered.
Hallie nodded, hugging Liv’s thin body against her own. “Now where did you get the foolish notion you had killed Mama, and why didn’t you talk to me about it? You used to come to me.”
“You were so busy all the time. I thought you didn’t have time for me like you used to,” Liv admitted.
Hallie felt hellish. Everything had been so chaotic after the death of their mother. It had come so suddenly, and Da had been gone. With the twins just babies, there hadn’t been time for Liv. So her little sister had become withdrawn. This also explained all the trouble Liv seemed to create—it was a way to get Hallie’s attention.
Hallie pulled Liv to her, holding the young girl and trying to make up for the hurt. “I love you, Liv, and I’m so, so sorry. I’m here when you need me, I promise. Don’t ever think I don’t have time for you, please.”
“I love you, too, Hallie. I really, really do.” Liv clung tightly to Hallie’s neck.
Brushing the tears from her sister’s cheeks, Hallie settled Liv on her knees. “You won’t do something silly like stow on ships or some other method of running away again, will you?”
Liv shook her head.
“I need you, sweetpea. Don’t ever forget that.” Hallie rubbed Liv’s back with a soothing hand. “Feel better?”
“Uh-huh.” A small, untroubled smile lit Liv’s tear-streaked face.
Hallie stood, setting Liv down and taking her hand. “Come on now, we’d better get you cleaned up.”
As they entered the hallway, Hallie spied Kit deep in conversation with Duncan. She gave Liv’s hand a reassuring squeeze and paused in front of Kit. “I would like to talk to you, privately, as soon as I’m done.”
“Fine. I’ve got some contracts to go over, so I’ll be in there when you need me.” Kit nodded toward the study and then watched Hallie with a hungry look—the same look, she thought, that had fooled her into thinking that their relationship was at least honest and trusting, even if it wasn’t based on mutual love.
She left with Liv, planning exactly what she would say to the bastard she had married.
An hour later, Hallie stood at the base of the stairs, staring at the broken door. It was half open, and she could see Kit bent over the desk, working while he puffed on his pipe. She took a deep breath and entered the room.
Kit looked up, took the pipe from his mouth and smiled—that wonderful smile that had the ability to make her melt. But not this time. She steeled herself against the love in her heart and concentrated on his betrayal.
“Where’s my ship?”
Shock registered on his face, only to be quickly masked by a look of absolute indifference. He bent back toward the papers and mumbled around his pipe. “What ship?”
Hallie marched over to his desk. “Don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! You know damn well I mean the Sea Haven! You sold it for fill, didn’t you?”
Kit’s gaze narrowed. “Do you really think I would do that?”
“Isn’t that what you were going to do before? Why should I think you would be any different now?”
“Why . . .” Kit’s face was suddenly very red. “If you can’t answer that, then I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell you. I thought we at least had some trust between us.” He puffed harder on the pipe, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair.
“So did I. Until I heard that you had my ship hauled away. You gave me that ship. It’s mine!” she shouted, banging her fist on the desk in frustration.
Kit pushed the pipe to the other side of his mouth. “You sound like a child, Hallie.”
“Don’t you dare change the subject, you . . . you lying bastard!”
Kit shot up and stood across the desk from her, glaring and puffing. He was trying to intimidate her. She would show him!
“How could you be so mean and awful?” Hallie leaned over the table, her face only a foot from his. “I want you to stay away from me, do you understand? Stay away.”
“Fine,” he spat around his pipe stem.
In an instant, she grabbed the pipe from his mouth and flung it into the fireplace. “And I’m sick and tired of trying to understand you around that stupid, damn pipe!” She spun away from his stunned face, ran upstairs to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Hallie looked at the door through her teary, furious eyes, then slid the bolt closed, locking Kit out of the bedroom and out of her heart.
Hallie closed the book and placed it on the nigh
t table. She turned down the wick and snuggled farther under the fluffy covers of her lonely bed. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to sleep. Her effort failed. She pushed up and stared down at the pillow, frowning. It smelled like Kit, so she flung it across the room and plopped her head onto the other pillow.
For three long, torturous nights, she’d slept alone. She hadn’t seen Kit for two days—no one had—and some perverse part of her wondered if he was all right.
Don’t do that, she mentally scolded. Don’t think about him, don’t worry about him, and don’t you dare love him!
She glanced across the dark room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness enough for her to make out the door. She eyed the glass knob. The first night when she’d locked herself in the room, Kit had tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t respond. She couldn’t give him the chance to wear her resistance down with either his lies or his hot touch. So tonight the doorknob hadn’t twisted. Tonight, Kit hadn’t knocked and demanded she let him in. Tonight, she got what she wanted. She was completely miserable.
It was quiet, except for the wind that rattled around the upper story. The gusts made the tree branches scrape along the house’s wooden siding. It was a terrible racket. Hallie covered her ears with her pillow and burrowed farther into bed. Sleep finally came, in small spurts, and she drifted in and out of the drowsy state.
A short while later something banged against the wall so hard the windows shook, and Hallie sat up, trying to adjust her sleepy eyes. She stared at her open window just as a hand closed over her mouth, cutting off her scream. She fought hard, but the intruder pinned her to the bed, stuffing a cloth into her mouth, tying another around her eyes and binding her hands behind her back. He covered her with a bed coverlet, and then Hallie was thrown roughly over his shoulder.
She could feel the cold air through the blanket as her abductor hauled her out the window and down to the ground below. It was freezing cold, and Hallie shivered, both from fear and the icy air. She was thrown into a carriage, and it took off with a sharp jolt that sent her rolling onto the damp carriage floor. She squirmed and wiggled, trying to get free of the blanket, but with her hands tied, she couldn’t do it.
The carriage stopped and the door creaked open. Hallie screamed through her gag, hoping the muffled noises would alert someone nearby. It did no good. Her abductor lugged her up a rope ladder, and as she struggled, she banged her head repeatedly against something hard and woodlike. She smelled the salty scent of the sea and realized he was taking her on board a ship. She could hear his gasping breath, so she struggled more. Maybe she could use her weight to her favor. His shoes dragged across what sounded like a wooden deck, and then a hatch slammed open. He lugged her down another stairway, and she heard a door open, just before he set her on her feet.
She kicked her foot back at random, trying to connect with whoever had kidnapped her, but she missed. The blanket was jerked from her, and someone untied the blindfold. Hallie blinked her eyes to adjust them to the lamp light.
It was her father’s cabin, and Kit sat on a large bunk, casually sipping some wine.
“Happy birthday, Hallie.” He toasted her and then took a drink.
“Should I untie her?” a familiar voice asked.
She spun around to see that her abductor was Lee Prescott, then looked back and forth from Kit to Lee.
“Go ahead and untie her, but maybe we should leave the gag in,” Kit suggested.
“She’s your wife,” Lee said, struggling to cut the rope from her wrists. “I just wish she was lighter.”
Hallie ground her heel on the toe of his boot.
“Ouch!” Lee cut the bonds loose. “That does it! I’ve been kicked and elbowed, all because you can’t get along with your own wife. I’m leaving. This was your stupid idea, you explain it.” Lee sheathed his knife and slammed the cabin door, leaving Kit and Hallie alone.
“Want some wine?” Kit held up a bottle and a glass.
Hallie jerked out her gag. “I—”
“Tell me, sweet,” Kit interrupted, “does this room look familiar?”
He ambled toward her with a glass of wine in his hand. “Here.” He handed it to her. “You haven’t answered me, Hallie. Isn’t this your father’s cabin?”
She gulped the wine. By the tone of his voice, she could tell she was going to need it.
“What, no comments? Please notice that it’s all in one piece. You can see that, can’t you?”
Hallie nodded, guzzling the rest of the wine.
“Ah, I see you’ve finished your wine. Good. Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room and up onto the deck.
“Look!” he ordered, and she did.
The ship was intact and spotless. The only difference was that a tall, narrow building now sat on the fore deck, between the mainmast and the foremast. Looming some three stories high, the plank building had a flat roof and narrow windows. Hanging from the booms and gallows were oil lanterns that spilled their light all over the ship. Hallie turned, and it was then that she saw the city, completely surrounding them. The Sea Haven wasn’t moored in the bay. It was sitting on land, right in the middle of San Francisco.
She gaped at Kit, and he pointed to a sign leaning against a row of barrels. It read: The Haven Hotel.
She could feel Kit watching her. “This is San Francisco’s newest hotel. It’s been leased—in your name, incidentally—to a gentleman who had it hauled on shore and converted. The official opening is in a few days, but for tonight I planned for us to celebrate your birthday on board.” He turned and looked her right in the eye, speaking quietly. “Do you still think I’m a lying bastard?”
“Oh God, Kit, I’m sorry!” Hallie threw herself into his arms and cried. “I mean it. I’m so sorry.”
Kit held her silently.
“You’re not a lying bastard,” she told his chest.
“That’s good to know,” Kit said, his voice tinged with a smile. His hands roved over her back. He tilted her face up toward his. “I’ll never lie to you, Hallie. I promise you that. I might make mistakes and make you angry, but I’ll never, ever lie to you.”
Hallie stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, softly and sweetly. “Thank you . . .” she murmured against his damp lips . . . ”Thank you.”
“Happy birthday, sweet,” he whispered back. He pulled her to him and kissed her, softly and then deeply. His hand stroked her back, then he pulled her tightly to his chest and held her with such longing that Hallie felt as if she had finally, for a fleeting instant, touched his heart.
A loud catcall pierced the air, and they broke apart, turning toward the shout. In plain sight, on the street below, stood a crowd of miners, jeering and whistling at the lovers.
Kit pulled her away from the railing. “Let’s go below.”
They went back to the cabin, and Hallie took the time to look at the room. It had been refurbished. The large bunk was covered with a deep green comforter that was so fat, she knew it must be filled with down. Jewel-toned pillows were scattered on the wall side of the bed, and a rug of the same colors covered the dark wood floor. A large screen blocked off the area where her father’s desk sat.
Kit strolled over and moved the screen. The desk was no longer there. Instead, a low table and two high-backed chairs sat in its place. The table was set for two.
“What’s this?” Hallie asked.
“Your birthday supper, or at least it will be in a moment.” Kit reached over and rang a brass ship’s bell. The loud clanging startled them both. “I think they might want to change that,” he said, laughing.
Within minutes there was a knock at the cabin door and two men entered with steaming trays of food. The men left, but the rich smell of beef filled the room, making Hallie’s mouth water. She hadn’t eaten much of anything the past few days, mostly because she’d been so
angry with Kit. He popped the cork on a champagne bottle and refilled their glasses, then set them on the table and seated Hallie.
An hour later Hallie had cleaned her plate, his plate, and was just finishing the last bit of food in the serving dishes, when she became aware of Kit’s smile.
“Hungry?”
“Um-hm,” she mumbled with her mouth full. She swallowed. “I was starved.”
He laughed. “So I noticed.”
“I haven’t eaten in two days,” she admitted, smiling.
His smile faded, the mirth in his eyes replaced by another look, a hotter look. “I’m starved too . . .” His meaning was clear. His fingers trailed along her arm while he spoke. “It’s been two long, cold nights, sweet.” His deep voice rumbled through her as his words set her on fire. “Come.” He took her hand and drew her over until she sat in his lap. His lips feathered over hers.
His mouth, hot and open, met hers, and their tongues parried. His tongue stroked hers with a deep kiss that drove her mad, and his hands worked free the fasteners on her clothing, shoving the clothes down to her waist. His palms lifted her heavy breasts while his tongue meandered from her mouth, down her neck, and then traced one hard tip and then the other.
She wrenched the studs from his shirt and rubbed her fingers through the thick, coarse, black hair that covered his chest. Her fingers grazed his nipples, and his mouth pulled hard on her breast, making her cry out from the heat that shot to her core. The harder he sucked, the more she melted.
Her hands wandered to the buttons on his pants, slipping the first couple through the holes. He wore no smallclothes, for the thick hair of his groin prickled her fingers. She lifted her weight, trying to open more buttons.
“Stand up, sweet, please,” he whispered.
She stood on shaking legs, and he wrapped his arms around her skirts and bunched them up, at the same time lifting her to straddle him. The back of her skirts fell over them, but the fabric in front was wadded against their stomachs. He reached up underneath her skirts and grabbed the outside of her thighs, pulling her up against the hard, male part of him. He pressed upward and his hands rocked her thighs so she rode against him. Through the split in her drawers Hallie could feel the cold buttons of his trousers.
