Amelia and the Captain

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Amelia and the Captain Page 9

by Lori Copeland


  The women drew closer, fear evident in their whispers.

  “Stay close together,” Amelia said. “If we’re discovered, don’t stop. Run as fast as you can. Escape by whatever means you find. From this moment on, we’re basically on our own.”

  The women, with the exception of Elizabeth, paused to give a reassuring group hug. Amelia’s thoughts swirled. In the brief time they had been together, she had begun to have real affection for Ria and Mahalia. She would miss them dreadfully. She broke the embrace and took a deep breath. “We have to swim to shore.”

  Elizabeth approached the waiting group. “Can everyone swim?”

  Heads nodded affirmatively, but Bunny flinched. “It’s so chilly. The water will be miserable.”

  Elizabeth closed her hand around Amelia’s arm and pulled her aside. “Get out of the way. If you’re not going to lead, I will.”

  Amelia met Elizabeth’s eyes—black and hard, exactly like her heart—and stiffened with resentment. Wrenching free from the bruising hold, Amelia stood her ground, refusing to be bullied. “Be my guest.” This woman was not going to bully her ashore. She would go under her own power.

  Pilar took control of Amelia while Bunny got a firm hold on Elizabeth. The two women separated the warring parties.

  “You can settle this later.” Ria motioned to follow her.

  Elizabeth jerked free, stepped onto the railing, and grabbed for a rope dangling from the mast. Pushing off, she shimmied down the hemp and dropped silently into the water.

  Drawing a fortifying breath, Amelia braced for the cold swim. “Ready, ladies?” Slipping over the side of the ship proved to be exhilarating, and the steep drop snatched Amelia’s breath.

  Pilar’s voice sounded lost and small on deck. “Promise to stay close to me?”

  “I won’t leave your side. Try to be brave! Cold water enveloped Amelia, and she lost sight of the ship temporarily when her head went under. Bobbing to the surface, she shuddered. The water was freezing!

  One by one the women grabbed hold of the rope and eased down the steep side of the sloop. Amelia heard soft gasps when each hit the water, but the girls immediately took breaths and dove under.

  Pilar splashed over to Amelia and clung to her hand tightly, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Amelia whispered. “It’s not far to the bank.”

  “I can’t swim,” Pilar gasped.

  “You can’t swim? But when Captain Kane asked—”

  Pilar’s whisper was laced with panic. “I fibbed—I didn’t want you to leave me behind.”

  Amelia grasped the girl tighter and pulled her along behind her.

  When they reached the bank, one by one the women surfaced, panting for breath. Amelia and Pilar followed in the distance, their heads bobbing above the water.

  Morgan appeared, parting the grass that grew thick along the small inlet, as Elizabeth climbed out of the water and immediately established a stance beside him. “You have a knack for picking women, Kane.” She dropped to the grass, breathing heavily.

  Morgan grunted. “If you’re referring to Amelia, I didn’t pick her. But for curiosity’s sake, what’s she done now?”

  Elizabeth gave him a dark look.

  Amelia witnessed the hurried exchange, and her heart broke. The moment Elizabeth had reached shore, she’d gone straight to Morgan. Regaining her senses, Amelia realized that she was foolish to throw caution to the wind, no matter how angry Elizabeth made her.

  Amelia grasped Pilar’s hand tighter, and the two women struggled to their feet and walked out of the water. One by one others emerged and huddled close, shivering in the chilly dawn.

  Morgan paused, his gaze skimming the empty pier. He gathered the group in a huddle. “The area is swarming with war activity. Any more than two traveling together will be certain to draw attention. Keep to the shadows and get as far from the water as possible before sunup.” He met Amelia’s expectant gaze. “I would take you farther, but my job will not allow me.” His tone softened. “Be careful and… Godspeed.”

  A shout came from a nearby ship and an alarm sounded. A small schooner now sat in the bay. One glance and Amelia saw men running on the decks, pulling on clothes as they ran. As suspected, Brown had figured out he’d been swindled and had followed. An overcast sky had prevented the steam-powered boat from being detected until daybreak.

  Morgan noticed a light frantically swaying back and forth from the old ship they’d left. Frost wanted Morgan to take ownership of the vessel.

  Amelia stepped closer. “Morgan, I think Captain Frost is trying to get your attention.”

  “I see him.”

  “What does he want?”

  “You ask too many questions. Go!” Morgan, with Elizabeth following on his heels, set off in a dead run, heading south. Frost had been paid a fair wage; it would be up to him to rid himself of that flea trap.

  The women scrambled, sidestepping a scurrying armadillo as the animal fled into the underbrush.

  Morgan’s boots pounded the ground, putting distance between him and the ship. He had miscalculated the situation. Brown had either discovered the ruse or suspected foul play and followed the sloop. The thug had put two and two together and come up with another detriment to threaten Morgan’s mission. Other than Elizabeth, Morgan had no one but himself to look after. The thought wasn’t comforting. He was not a man to leave a helpless woman—in this case, ten women.

  Amelia crossed his mind, and he experienced an odd sense of betrayal. He’d deserted Amelia and the other helpless females who had little hope of survival.

  He stopped short, breathing heavily. Elizabeth raced past him, skidding to a halt fifty feet away. She bent, both hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “What?”

  “I can’t leave them.”

  “Morgan! Have you lost your mind! We have to save our own necks—we have no other choice!”

  “There’s always a choice, Elizabeth. Good or bad.”

  “Going back is bad. Unthinkable. We have a job to do. Now let’s get it done and go home.”

  “If you want to go, leave with my blessing. I’ll assume responsibility, but I think we can complete our mission and save those young women without the government ever knowing about our small detour from the plan.”

  Elizabeth dropped to the ground, panting. “Does she mean that much to you?”

  “Who?”

  “Amelia.”

  “I’m not thinking about Amelia. She’s capable of caring for herself.” The woman was too adept. She and her two sisters should be Southern spies.

  “Sorry to inform you, but the little twit stole your heart when you weren’t looking.”

  “You’re talking gibberish. What kind of man would I be if I left ten women to Austin Brown’s mercy? Chances are, he won’t sell the women to Lanigan now. Brown’s been made a fool, and he wouldn’t want Dov Lanigan to get wind of his blunder.”

  “Morgan, we have Lanigan in sight. We know with certainty he’s in New Orleans and likely to stay there until his bounty is delivered. Lanigan might not get the women, but someone will. Brown won’t free the urchins regardless. He’ll sell them to yet another despicable man for profit. If we move quickly, we have Lanigan and we go home. There’s no way to move quickly with ten women in our hair.” She paused. “And unless you’ve forgotten, I’ve sworn my loyalty to my country. And so have you.”

  “Everything you say is true, but those women have no one but us to help them.”

  Elizabeth rose to her feet. “You’ve lost your mind, you know.”

  “Clearly.”

  “The women have scattered like chaff. We’ll never find them.”

  “You are most likely right. I couldn’t be happier if that were true.”

  “But we’re going to try anyway. Right?”

  “Right.”

  Morgan got to his feet, and his eye caught movement in the shadows. He drew his firearm. “Who goes there!”

  Amelia meekly stepped
from the shadows, followed by Pilar, Auria, Belicia, Ria, Mira, Bunny, Mahalia, Faith, and Hester. The women paused in front of the captain, heads bent low.

  “You?”

  “Yes, sir.” Amelia’s chin touched her chest.

  Elizabeth threw up her hands and stepped back.

  Morgan turned stern. “Is this your idea of running?”

  “We have been running, sir.”

  “Behind me and Elizabeth.”

  “You said run. You didn’t specify in what direction.”

  He glanced at Elizabeth, who rolled her eyes. “Your call, Captain Kane.”

  The decision was an abandonment of his duty, and Morgan knew it, but the war and his duties would pass. His conscience would not, and Elizabeth would never turn him in for misconduct. He turned to address the group. “Listen and try to follow orders. We run until we can’t run any longer. Does everyone understand?”

  “With you?” Bunny asked. “We can run with you?”

  “With me…and Elizabeth.” His eyes shifted to Amelia. “You. You run beside me like I’m your second skin. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Where are we running to?”

  “Beats me.” He didn’t trust her impulsive nature, yet he didn’t care to lose his life. Nor did he care to risk his mission. For now, he had ten women in his hair. And Elizabeth.

  There was always Elizabeth.

  When the party was winded, Captain Kane paused and knelt on his haunches to draw a crude map in the loose dirt with his forefinger. There had been no sign of Brown or his crew. By the time the thugs departed their ship, Morgan’s group had a sizable lead on the buccaneers. The women huddled close as Kane explained the next step.

  “Roughly forty-five minutes away is the Mississippi Lady. Like the sloop, it’s old but serviceable. The captain is a personal friend. If we can make it to the boat, Jean Louis will take us to New Orleans. I hope.” His and Jean Louis’s friendship had been long and loyal, but Morgan had never asked anything like what he was about to ask from Jean Louis. Loyalty and friendship might just fly out the window with the bizarre request. “That means my friend will have to detour to the Jacinto River down to the Gulf and go east to the Mississippi. But with God’s grace I think we can count on his help.” He glanced at Elizabeth, hoping she had caught the emphasis he’d put on New Orleans. The delay would not be a delay. The team was still squarely on a mission—to capture Dov Lanigan.

  His tone assumed a note of gravity. “Ladies, you have two choices. You can split up here and try to make it back to your families alone, or you can remain together, and hopefully I’ll get you to New Orleans.” New Orleans, Memphis, Galveston, Houston, and now back to New Orleans. They were running in circles. He hadn’t spoken with Jean Louis in months, but he knew his friend’s schedule. The captain carried iron from Houston to seaports on a regular basis. All Morgan needed was prayer, cooperative weather, and the grit to get the women to the Mississippi Lady. God, please let Jean Louis be between runs and agree to the unconventional plan. All were long shots, but Morgan was out of choices.

  “Another captain? How are you acquainted with this captain?” Amelia countered.

  “Does it matter?”

  “To me it does. What if he’s another Austin Brown or someone even worse—”

  “You have my word, he is reputable.”

  Elizabeth appeared to consider the thought. “New Orleans?”

  “New Orleans,” Morgan confirmed, meeting her eyes.

  “We still have the quandary on where we’ll go once we reach New Orleans.” Auria spoke this time.

  “Let’s take one problem at a time. Let’s just get to New Orleans, if we can.”

  Pilar edged closer to Amelia, her young body visibly quaking. The women, shivering in the damp air, looked to one another for answers.

  Turning back to the women, Amelia asked softly, “What do you want to do? We could try to make it on our own. It will be difficult, if not impossible. We have no money or knowledge of the area. We could always seek shelter with the church in New Orleans if we have to.”

  Because of the war, the church shelters were overcrowded in both Houston and New Orleans.

  Pilar said quietly, “At this point, does it matter?”

  Amelia reached for Bunny’s and Belicia’s hands. “No. We stay together.”

  Rising, Morgan nodded. “Move quickly. No doubt Austin Brown is on our heels—or will be soon.”

  A light mist dampened their barely dry clothing by the time the women reached the Mississippi Lady. Parting the thick undergrowth, Amelia peered at the tall paddle wheelers tied side by side at the wharf. She was old but looked to be well cared for.

  A young black boy sat atop a bale of hay playing a harmonica while gangs of roustabouts loaded bales of cotton onto the decks of steamers headed downriver. Along the banks, men lifted trunks and carpetbags from horse-drawn wagons onto the low main deck of a steamer about to depart.

  Men’s voices singing a happy tune granted the only warmth to the unseasonably cool day.

  “Stay together,” Morgan warned.

  Amelia smothered a grin. He needn’t have worried. He couldn’t have scraped the women off his side with a bowie knife. Motioning for the group to follow, Morgan started for the gangplank.

  Bunny stepped into the lead, followed by Amelia, Pilar, Hester, Faith, Ria, Mahalia, Belicia, Auria, Mira, and Elizabeth. One by one, the women marched in a long row to the vessel, looking neither right nor left.

  As they crossed the gangplank, Amelia held her breath against the stench of oily, hot boilers. Her eyes took in the iron cargo and firewood strewn about on the old deck. Moving closer to Morgan, she whispered, “The boat looks safe enough.” Her eyes fixed on the boiler on the main deck. “But if that thing blows up, we’ll be flung clean back to Houston.”

  “I imagine you’re right, but I’ve never had that experience, and I visit Jean Louis often.”

  A distinguished white-haired gentleman dressed in a blue jacket and wearing a captain’s hat appeared on deck, a smile spreading across his amiable features as the entourage approached.

  “Well, well. Morgan Kane, a sight for sore eyes.” The captain of the Mississippi Lady walked down the plank, and the two men embraced warmly. When they parted, Jean Louis broke into an even wider smile. “And Elizabeth! What a treat!”

  “You’re looking good, my friend.” Elizabeth shook his hand.

  “Can’t say that my regrets outweigh my blessings.”

  Drawing the captain aside, Morgan explained the circumstances. The captain’s face turned pensive. His eyes traveled the line of women.

  Morgan turned and made hasty introductions. “Ladies, this is the captain of the Mississippi Lady, Jean Louis Matter.”

  Captain Matter, a man perhaps ten years older than Morgan, perused the women closely. “Some of them are little more than children, my friend.”

  Morgan explained the peculiar circumstances before he turned to Amelia. “And this is Amelia.” He flashed a grin that made Amelia’s heart flip. “The one who started this distraction.”

  “Ah. Such a lovely diversion.” The captain paused, his eyes searching the young woman’s.

  “I’m Pilar.” A girl’s words broke into the awkward silence. Then the other women added their names in turn. Auria, Belicia, Ria, Mira, Bunny, Mahalia, Hester, Faith.

  Captain Matter returned the greetings. “Well, as Morgan knows, I carry only cargo. Iron and cotton, mostly.” His eyes centered on the empty lower deck. “But it would seem you’re in luck. I made my last run recently and don’t plan another until next month. I can’t offer anything fancy, just good food and a place to rest your head during the week’s trip, providing the weather holds.”

  Compared to the sloop, the Mississippi Lady was a floating palace. Amelia spoke up. “Captain, we aren’t in a position to be choosy. Your help will be most appreciated.”

  “I’ll do all I can, but the journey won’t be without a fair share of risk,” he promi
sed.

  Morgan’s eyes grimly beheld the women. “We’d appreciate any help you can give us.”

  “My crew is old and the quarters are very small. But…” A crafty smile touched the corners of the captain’s eyes. “With Morgan aboard, we can still outsmart anyone on the river.”

  Morgan glanced over his shoulder. “You can bet Austin Brown isn’t going to be far behind.”

  “Then we’d best be underway. Most likely we don’t have a minute to spare.” Captain Matter signaled to the pilothouse, and a moment later the steamboat’s warning bell clanged.

  An old man, stooped and balding, lifted a Chinese gong and shouted, “All aboard that ain’t going get off the boat!”

  Within a short time, the gangplank was drawn in, and the Mississippi Lady’s engine roared to life with a rhythmic chaukety-paw, chaukety-paw, chaukety-paw. A shout went up as plumes of black smoke sprinkled with sparks poured from the old paddle wheeler’s stacks.

  Amelia hung over the railing in anticipation, watching a rush of water appear between the hull and the shoreline as the old packet slowly turned to the stream, pointing its bow toward the Jacinto River.

  The decks vibrated beneath her, and she drew a long, heady breath, wondering if she’d ever see her sisters, the convent, or Mercy Flats again.

  Please let it be, Father. I not only love each one dearly, but I can’t wait to tell them of my adventure! Oh, and about Morgan Kane. Not that he’s that important, but he is…special. Please guard his steps in order that he can get us all to safety.

  As Captain Jean Louis had promised, the quarters were small. The women were assigned five to a cabin on the lower deck. As the eleventh woman, Amelia agreed to alternate sleeping between the two cabins, although it would make for crowded conditions. The women agreed there was safety in numbers, so no one minded the inconvenience.

  The Mississippi Lady, though far from spotless, was worlds better than the sloop, which among other things had seaweed and marine life crusted on the hull. The paddle wheeler’s interior looked as if someone sought to keep the space orderly but couldn’t quite achieve the goal. The women went immediately to their quarters, reeling from their exhausting flight. They’d been under way only a short time when an interesting-looking elderly gentleman wearing thick eyeglasses delivered food to the cramped quarters.

 

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