Damita’s hands ached from the pressure of holding on to the board. She could see something far off that looked dimly like a dark line of coast. “Is that the shore?”
“Yes. When we hit, this thing will probably turn over. If it does, don’t fight me. I’ll pull you in.”
“All right.” Damita was too exhausted to suggest any other plan. The only firm object in the universe to the young woman at that moment was Yancy’s arm around her, like iron pressing her down, holding her steady. She laid her cheek against the rough surface of the board and waited. The roar became louder, and they seemed to move faster.
“Here it comes.”
Damita grew tense, and then she felt the plank begin to turn. “Let go!” Yancy yelled. She released her grasp, and he plucked her up and pulled her off to one side. As the board turned over, it struck her left foot, but she had no time to think of that pain, for her head had gone underwater again. She held her breath as best she could. She remembered that Yancy had said not to fight, and it took all of her strength to keep from grabbing at him. He turned her around as if she were a child, his arm went around her chest, and just as she could hold her breath no longer, they both rose above the surface. He did not speak, but she could feel his powerful strokes.
Finally, he yelled, “My feet hit bottom. We’re all right.” He stood up, his chest above the waves.
Damita’s feet touched sand, and she cried out, “I feel it!” She waded out as he half-carried her. The wind tore at them as it raced across the beach. Damita trembled from the cold.
Yancy leaned forward and said in her ear, “We’ve got to get out of this wind. Let’s make for those trees.”
The two pressed against the wind and hurried across the beach to a line of trees. As soon as they stepped inside their comforting cover, the wind seemed to mitigate, but Damita was shaking so violently she could hardly stand. Yancy held her and said, “Come on. We’ll try to find some shelter. There must be something.”
The two stumbled along through the trees, Yancy’s left arm supporting Damita. She would have fallen more than once, but he pulled her up, saying, “Come on. We can make it. You’re doing fine.”
Fatigue came then like a blow, and Damita did not think she could lift her feet another step, but Yancy kept pulling her forward. He finally stopped. “Look, here’s a road. There’s got to be something down it. Come on.” The sound of the crashing breakers grew fainter. A hundred yards later, Yancy said, “Look, there’s something there.”
Damita could see only the vague shadow of a tall vertical object. “What is that?”
“It’s an old chimney. There was a house here, but it’s burned.” Then he cried out, “A barn! We can at least get out of the wind.”
Damita felt new strength. The barn was small, but at least it had a roof. When they had reached it, Yancy opened the door and looked inside. It was practically pitch black. A couple of small holes in the walls of the old structure admitted only faint, grayish light. Yancy said, “Stand here a minute. Let me feel my way around.”
Shaking as she never had in her life, Damita waited. She rubbed her arms together, but her fingers were numb with the cold. The coat she wore was, of course, soaked, and she felt encased in an icy embrace.
“Here, we’re in luck.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a lot of old hay here, and we can get under it. It’ll help some. First, take off your clothes and wring them out. They’ll never dry out like that.”
“Take off my clothes?”
“Yes. I’m going to do the same.” Yancy walked a few steps away, faced the opposite wall, and began removing his shirt.
Damita hesitated only an instant, then she pulled off the coat and quickly stripped down to her undergarments. She wrung out her dress, but the coat was too heavy. She put on her clothes, so cold and clammy that she shuddered beneath them.
“Are you dressed?”
“Yes.”
“Here, come over here.”
“I couldn’t wring the water out of this coat.”
“Let me try.” Yancy did his best with the sopping garment. “Here, lie down.” Damita felt her way past him, and when her feet crunched on the old hay underfoot, she lay down, and he joined her. “Pull all the straw you can over yourself.” Damita grabbed handfuls and threw them over her legs and torso. The smell was rank and chaff got into Damita’s nose and made her sneeze. “We’ll put your coat over the top of the straw,” Yancy said.
“I’ve got to get warm,” she whispered. “I’m so cold.”
Yancy put his arms around her and drew her to him. They were face-to-face, and Damita felt a faint heat in his body. Terror was still in her, and as his arms went around her, she put her arms around his neck greedily to absorb some of his warmth. She felt him reaching back, pulling more straw over them, and finally she felt the first small indications of her body temperature rising.
“I didn’t think we were going to make it,” she whispered.
“Neither did I.” The two of them listened to the wind as it whistled through the cracks of the barn. Both of them were thinking of the ship.
As Damita’s shaking began to subside, Yancy said, “You’re getting better. We’re going to live.”
“Do you think anyone else is alive?” she whispered.
Yancy answered, “I doubt it, Damita. She went down too quick. It’s a miracle that we lived.”
Tears filled Damita’s eyes, and she put her forehead against his chest and began to weep. Memories of Juanita’s thousand kindnesses flew through her mind. She could not bear to think of the body down in the cold darkness of the sea. Her own body shook—not from cold, but from her sobs. Yancy held her without speaking. Once he whispered, “I’m sorry about your aunt, but it was quick.”
She stopped crying, and she lay in his arms, trying to regain something that she had lost. He held her without speaking. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face, and she savored the closeness of his body. But then she began to realize that this was a man she was holding, and who was holding her. She felt his hand on her back begin to stroke her, and she lifted her head. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. As he kissed her, she felt a soft, wild, half-giving and half-refusing in her own body. Everything for that moment was unreal: the sinking of the ship, the desperate fight to stay alive, the wind howling outside their cocoon. But his warmth was real, and the touch of his lips on hers was real. She felt that his caress kept loneliness and fear away.
Her mind would not function. It seemed to have become incapable of thought. Yancy’s growing passion made a turbulent eddy around them both, and then she knew that he was not alone in his desires. She returned his kiss with a fierceness that shocked her.
At that moment she was helpless and open to his strength. She longed for love and assurance and security and hope, and they all seemed to lie within his arms.
Suddenly, Yancy jerked away and took a deep breath. He slid himself away from her. His withdrawal stunned Damita. “What’s the matter?” She tried to pull him back.
He caught her hands in his and did not answer for a moment. When he did, his voice was hoarse. “This is a bad time for you, Damita. You’re not yourself.”
Damita could not believe what was happening. She had offered herself to him, and now he was refusing her. She whispered, “Don’t you want me?”
“Not like this.” He moved away from her slightly. “You’d hate me, and you’d hate yourself, too, when this was over.” He turned away and said roughly, “Try to sleep. It’ll be light soon, and we can walk out of this place.”
Damita felt devastated. He had rejected her, and the thought ran bitterly through her mind.
And then, shame came, burning like a fire in her conscience. She turned over quickly, curling up, her eyes tightly shut. As she lay in the darkness, she could hear his breathing and knew that he was not asleep. She knew she would remember this moment all of her life. She would remember that she had cheapened herself t
o a man who had pulled away from her. A flash of violent emotion coursed through her—the closest thing to hatred that she had ever felt. Something inside murmured that what he had done was right and she was wrong, but it was only a faint voice. And she writhed silently in shame.
Chapter six
“Do you feel up to walking?”
Damita rose and brushed the straw from her dress and hair. She had slept fitfully and found upon waking that she was still angry at Yancy Devereaux. The memory came flashing back, of how she had clung to him and how he had turned away from her, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth and in her spirit. “Yes,” she said in a steady voice. “I’m all right.”
As Damita stood, Yancy handed her her coat and said, “You’d better wear this. It’s still damp, but it’ll cut the wind.” She took the coat and slipped into it. When they stepped outside, he glanced at the sky. “We’ll try this road. Surely we’ll find something.”
“All right.”
Yancy started to speak, then, seeing the adamant look in her eyes, he said merely, “Let’s go. There are fresh wagon tracks along here. We ought to find a house somewhere.”
Ten minutes later, they rounded a bend in the road, and Yancy said, “Look, there’s a place.”
Damita followed his pointing finger and saw a house built up on a slight hill. Smoke was rising from the chimney, and she felt a wave of relief. “Someone is there,” she said.
“Yes. Come on.”
The house they approached was two-storied, unpainted, and weathered to a silver gray. A pasture lay beyond it, with several cows and two horses. A large, whitish dog arose from the porch and slowly approached with his head down, baring his teeth. “It’s all right, boy,” Yancy said.
Even as he spoke, the door opened and a man stepped out. “Be quiet, Rex,” he said and looked the couple. He was a tall, lanky individual wearing overalls and a gray sweater. His hair was tousled, black and gray, and his skin was tan and leathery-looking. “Hello,” he said. “You folks lost?”
Yancy answered, “We were on the ship Orestes. She went down last night.”
“Went down? You mean sank?”
“Yes. Could you get us in out of the weather? The lady is exhausted.”
“My name’s Moore—Caleb Moore. Come on inside.” The man turned and opened the door, calling, “Esther!” A woman appeared in the doorway, and her eyes widened. She was wearing a white apron over a blue dress and seemed to be about the same age as her husband, somewhere in her fifties. “My stars! What in the world?”
“These folks were in a shipwreck.”
“Come on in. It’s a wonder you’re not frozen.”
Damita walked inside the large kitchen, and a stove that threw off waves of heat drew her immediately. She walked over to it, held her hands out, and then, inexplicably, began to tremble again.
“Here, you can’t wear those wet clothes. Come along with me. What’s your name?”
“Damita Madariaga.”
“Miss Madariaga, you come along to my bedroom. My clothes won’t fit you very well, but you can get dried out. Caleb, you get this man some of your dry clothes.”
“Sure.” Caleb Moore stepped into a bedroom and came out with an armload of underwear, socks, shirts, and a pair of pants. “You can wear these. What’d you say your name was?”
“Yancy Devereaux.” The men shook hands, then Yancy slipped off his damp, dirty clothes and into the clean ones his host offered. The older man pulled a sweater from the back of a chair and held it out. “You might want this for a time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Moore.”
“Caleb’s all right. I’d better get out there and see if anybody else made it.”
“I’ll go with you pretty soon. I doubt if we’ll find anybody alive. There’ll be bodies coming in.”
Shock appeared on Moore’s face. “How many were on the ship?”
“A little more than two hundred.”
“Got to be some of them left alive. You two made it.”
“I doubt it. It was a miracle that we got here. A large board broke off the ship, and we managed to get on top of it, and it brought us in to shore. If we had been farther out, we wouldn’t have made it. What’s the closest town?”
“St. Augustine. It’s about fifteen miles from here.”
At that point, Esther Moore appeared and went to the stove. “You folks need something to eat.”
“Coffee would be good.”
“It’s on the stove. Caleb, you pour. I’ll just whip up some ham and bacon and eggs, and we’ve got biscuits left over. It’s not fancy.”
“It’s just what I need, Mrs. Moore.”
As Esther rattled dishes and broke eggs, Caleb fired questions at Yancy. The weary young man felt drained but obligated to answer. Damita emerged from another bedroom, wearing a faded, ill-fitting dress. Her hair was still wet, and she was drying it with a towel.
“You come and sit right over here, Miss,” Caleb said. “My wife’s the best cook in Florida.”
Indeed, Esther was an excellent cook, at least as far as breakfast was concerned. Both Yancy and Damita ate quickly and then took seconds. Afterward, Damita was stirring her coffee when Yancy said, “Caleb and I are going to the beach to see if there are any more survivors. Why don’t you lie down awhile?”
“I’m all right,” Damita said shortly. She looked up and started to say something about her aunt but knew such talk was useless. She sipped the coffee, and the two men left. Esther Moore filled her own coffee cup and sat beside her.
“A terrible thing. Did you have friends on the ship?”
“My aunt.”
“Oh, my dear—I’m so sorry.” She reached over and put her work-worn hand on Damita’s and said, “Maybe she made it ashore.”
“I don’t think anyone did. I believe Yancy and I were the only ones.”
“Was it a big ship?”
“There were more than two hundred people on board.”
“Lord help us!” Esther Moore cried, her eyes widening. “Listen, as soon as Caleb comes back, we’ll get you in to St. Augustine. You can catch a ship back from there, or perhaps go overland. The ship would be the quickest.”
“I hate to be a bother.”
“Don’t be foolish. What are people for, except to help in time of trouble?”
The two women sat quietly then, and Esther tactfully did not mention the wreck anymore. She put Damita’s and Yancy’s clothes by the stove, and they soon dried out. Esther ironed Damita’s dress, and the young woman put it back on. The coat was still hanging in front of the stove when the two men came back.
“Did you find anyone, Caleb?” His face was dark. “Not alive,” he said. “We’ll have to go into St. Augustine and report this.”
“I know. You go hitch up the wagon. I’ll go with you. Where do your people live, Miss Damita?”
“In New Orleans.”
Esther said, “You are welcome to stay with us, but I know you are anxious to get home. There’s nearly always a ship leaving St. Augustine for New Orleans. You can get a hotel there until one leaves.”
Caleb studied her face, started to say something but then changed his mind. “I’ll go get the team hitched up. The weather’s clearing off.”
Damita and Yancy stood in front of the Royal Hotel and said their good-byes to the Moores. She and Yancy had gone to the courthouse to give notice of what had happened, and then the Moores had driven them to the hotel. The two couples shook hands, then Damita suddenly moved forward a step and hugged Esther. She had never embraced a woman in Esther Moore’s class before, but gratitude was rich in her. “I can’t thank you enough for helping us.”
“You get on home now, and let your people baby you and take care of you. We’ll be praying for you, me and Caleb. And I’m sorry about your aunt.” The Moores climbed up on their wagon, Caleb snapped the reins, and they ambled out of town.
Now Yancy and Damita stood in front of the hotel, and Damita said, “I don’t have any money. It was
all in my stateroom.”
Yancy smiled briefly. “I carry my cash in my money belt, so we still have some.” He patted his side and said, “It got a little damp, but it’s all right.”
“My father will recompense you for anything you spend.”
Yancy looked at her. “Come along. We’ll go register.”
The two walked into the lobby of the hotel, and the clerk smiled at them. “Yes, sir. May I help you?”
“We need two rooms, one for this lady and one for myself.”
“Yes, sir, we have two. Please register right here.” The clerk was a short man with fair skin and sky-blue eyes. When they finished signing in, he smiled and asked, “Will you be staying long?”
“I hope not,” Yancy said. “We need to get a ship out of here. This lady needs to catch one bound for New Orleans. Do you know of any?”
“No, sir, I don’t, but you can go down to the docks and find out very easily.”
“I’ll do that.” Yancy took the keys and nodded, then the two turned and walked up the stairs.
Yancy opened the door to room 206 and handed Damita the key. “You lie down and get some rest. I’ll go find out about a ship. When I get back, we’ll have something to eat.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Damita.” He hesitated and said, “I know it’s been rough, but it’s not over yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes the past haunts a person. Didn’t you know that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I mean, you don’t always have time to think about how difficult things are, but later, you look back and wonder how you lived through them.”
Damita’s life had been so carefree up to that point, the idea of the past’s haunting her was foreign. But as Yancy spoke, she recognized that she would always remember the horror of the wreck, and other things as well.
The Creole Historical Romance 4-In-1 Bundle Page 33
