“Do you hear that?” she asked, struggling to her feet.
He squinted in the glare of the light. “No, I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly! The wind has stopped. The storm must be over.” Gripping the lantern’s handle, Avery stumbled for the opening with Rip close behind her.
When she held the light outside the entrance, the water still lapped at the rocks, but it appeared not to have risen any higher. Plus, the larger cavern didn’t seem as dark as their hiding place.
“I think the sun might have broken through.” Rip voiced her own hope. “We can get out of here!”
But the purple bruise around his eye reminded her of the need for caution. “But Mama Simone said to wait for her or Luc.”
“To hell with that,” Rip declared. Sleep seemed to have revived some primitive instinct in him. He fairly hummed with nervous energy “My cousin and uncle want a fight, and Iâm going to give them one. Besides, this island is a powder keg ready to blow. “
Avery skeptically eyed the water rippling below them. “How deep does that look to you?”
He followed her gaze. “It wonât even be up to your knees. Stick your shoes in your purse. Iâll carry the water and the lantern.”
Wrapping the few items left in the basket, she shoved them into her purse. Then, she removed her shoes and threaded them through the strap. “All right, but if itâs still raining, Iâm staying here.”
Reluctantly, she followed Rip out the entrance. They picked their way slowly down the rocks until they reached the flooded cavern floor. She saw him suck his breath in sharply when he stepped down into the water, but heâd been right about the shallowness. The water hit halfway up his calves as he stood and held the lantern high to help her negotiate the rest of the way. Steeling herself, Avery gathered her skirt up into her free hand and joined him. They sloshed their way toward the outside.
With the wet sand squishing between her toes, Avery hustled ahead. She could see shafts of light shining through the opening so the storm really had passed. But the sound of crashing waves had replaced the howling wind, and when she poked her head out she saw spray from the high surf.
“Itâs still a little wild out there,” she warned, raising her voice over the noise.
Rip peered over her shoulder. “But itâs not raining.”
Shutting off the lantern, he climbed out, and Avery followed, blinking in the bright afternoon light. They picked their way over the slick rocks until they reached the trail and could see the rough sea.
“Guess we wonât be going anywhere by boat for awhile.” She paused to slip her shoes back on, her thoughts briefly straying to Valiant, which she knew would have sailed far from the reach of the hurricane. For a fleeting moment she wondered if she would ever see the ship again.
“Doesnât matter, weâre going inland.” Rip seemed oblivious to being barefoot as he pushed ahead. Apparently, Mama Simoneâs potion had helped his injuries.
“Inland? Is there another town?” Avery didnât remember any of the Lesser Antilles with a lot of population in their interiors, but maybe Benezet was different.
He shook his head, but didnât stop to look at her. “Whatâs there is a hydro-electric plant. Thanks to lots of streams and rivers, Benezet is one of the few islands that produces all its own power.”
Averyâs mind raced with the implications of this information. “So thatâs why everyone drives golf carts. Theyâre electric.”
“Right, gasoline is very expensive,” Rip confirmed. His eyes had a strange glint Avery had never seen before. “My father and uncle did a few good things for Benezet. They werenât always bad.”
“Of course they werenât.” Staring intently, she ran her fingertips down his arm. “But you arenât responsible for them, Rip. You have nothing to do with them.”
“Iâm not so sure. Ever since Iâve been here, Iâve felt different. Like Iâm my fatherâs son after all.” His voice sounded tight, clipped.
Dropping her hand, she shook her head. “Youâre also your motherâs son. But most important, youâre your own man. Donât forget that.”
Looking unconvinced, he silently continued along the path, and she followed doggedly. They didnât stop again until they reached the cross path leading to Mama Simoneâs cottage, but Rip turned in the opposite direction.
“Better hide your hair, weâre going into town, though I think we should stick to the outskirts.”
Without stopping, Avery gathered her hair into a ponytail, then pulled the scarf out of her purse. “And weâre going into the village because?”
“Walking to the hydro-electric plant will take too long. We need transportation.”
Tucking in a final blonde lock, she added, “And weâre going to the plant because?”
“Whoever controls the power plant controls Benezet. If this revolution is going to happen, thatâs where itâll be.”
Not feeling at all cheered by the thought, she clenched her teeth and said nothing further. Instead, she decided to save her arguments for if and when they found that transportation. Besides, the muddy path was growing slippery as they started downhill.
Spread out below them, Avery could see houses with gaping holes in their roofs. Several trees were lying at odd angles, and she saw a few people moving through the streets. The closer they got, the more damage became apparent. The storm may have only lasted a few hours, but it had been destructive.
When the path widened into a rubble clogged road, she found herself picking her way through hunks of kelp, leaves, bits of wood, plaster, and lots of things she didnât recognize. Rip’s idea of staying on the fringes made more and more sense. Debris from the storm seemed to be everywhere.
“Do you know how to get to this power plant?” she asked as they approached three houses with sheets of plywood over their windows.
“Not exactly, but I’m sure the main road going inland will get us there.” She opened her mouth, but he quickly answered her unspoken question. “It will be the paved road, probably with a line painted in the middle.”
Even though Avery saw no signs of life around the houses, Rip chose not to get too close. What had once been large vegetable gardens between the homes were now muddy, churned-up messes. She hoped fervently that none of the inhabitants had been hurt. They crossed two intersecting dirt roads, but still met no people. However, a mongrel barked at them, and then followed a dozen yards behind.
Ten long minutes later, the dog started barking again, but at something other than them. Before Avery could ask what had spooked the animal, a loud braying noise sounded, then a string of shouted words. Though she couldn’t quite understand the patois, the forcefulness of the cries left no doubt in her mind that at they were profane.
Another loud bray rang out and a large, black mule trotted into view. The noisy mutt ran at the mule, who put down his head and charged like an enraged bull. As Avery stumbled to get out of the way, Rip jumped into the fray, grabbing for the rope halter the mule wore.
“Look out!” she shouted, while the animal gnashed its long yellow teeth at Rip.
The dog yelped and ran for cover, at the same moment Rip caught the rope on the side of the mule’s jaw. The animal bellowed out its dismay just as a stooped and grizzled man ran up still babbling.
“Merci beaucoup,” he exclaimed, taking the muleâs halter from Rip and smacking the animal on the muzzle. Then he verbally berated the mule, who brayed again in reply before dropping its head as if embarrassed. When the man saw Rip and Averyâs confused expressions, he spoke in English. “The old devil, he get away from me. Many thanks for your help.” Rip briefly shook his extended hand, but the manâs dark eyes lingered on his face. “You a Pollendene?”
Nerves prickled across the back of Averyâs neck as Rip hesitated before nodding. “Iâm Rip Pollendene.”
The old manâs face broke into
a snaggle-toothed grin. “Phillipeâs little boy?” He smacked Rip on the shoulder with his free hand. “Not so little any more, eh? I served with your father before you were born. He was my friend. I be Jasper Parlier.” As Avery sighed with relief, the old manâs gaze swept over her and he nodded knowingly. “Your woman? She a quadroon like your mama?”
The mule tossed its head and brayed again, but Jasper kept his grip on the halter. “Settle down, Midnight, old devil!” He muttered something in patois and the animal hung its head again. Turning back to Rip, he asked. “You going to the plant? Half St. Namadie gone there already.”
“Can you show us the way?” The undercurrent of excitement in Rip’s voice sent another tingle of nerves across Avery’s neck and down her arms.
“The road be just over that rise yonder.” Jasper gestured vaguely with his arm. “You’ll know coz everybody be on it.” Then his smile broke out again. “You ride old Midnight! He be ornery, but a steady mount. He carry both you and your woman.”
Avery couldn’t stop a little gasp of surprised dismay at the mention of riding the big, ugly creature. Fortunately Rip seemed to share her aversion.
“Thank you, Jasper, but I can’t take your mule.”
The old man’s expression went hard and every bit as determined as Midnight. “You would insult me?”
“No, of course not!” Rip quickly denied, holding out his hands palms up. “But how would I get him back to you?”
“And he doesn’t have a saddle, bridle or anything.” Avery spoke up, adding to their case.
Jasper Parlier looked at her and his face softened. “He don’t need anything, cheri. Just point him where you want to go.” Then he turned back to Rip and pronounced in a tone of finality. “You send him back when you be done. You got important work to do.”
Rip edged closer to her and muttered, “It would be faster than walking.”
“Not after he throws us off and stomps on us!” she hissed back, but she had a sinking feeling she’d already lost the battle.
The old man guided the mule over to an uprooted tree. “Stand on here to get on.”
Nodding, Rip handed her the nearly forgotten jug of water. “Hold this until I get on him.”
“When you’re lying in the dirt, I’m not picking you up,” Avery warned with a narrow eyed glare.
While she and the cowering mongrel stood a safe distance away, Rip climbed onto the tree trunk then vaulted to the mule’s back. Avery cringed, but the blasted creature never moved a muscle. She just knew it was waiting for her before it turned into a bucking bronco.
Stomping over to the tree trunk, she handed Rip the water jug, then took a firm grip on her shoulder bag. “So help me, Rip Pollendene, if this critter throws me off, Iâm going to kill you!”
As Avery balanced on the rough trunk, she gathered her long skirt into one hand, grateful she still had her bermudaâs on under it. Taking a deep breath, she threw her leg over the muleâs back and plopped down behind Rip. Midnight flicked his ears but otherwise remained immobile.
Jasper Parlier said something in patois to the animal, then smacked him on the rump. As Midnight lurched forward, the old man waved his arm. “The road be just over the rise. God speed, Rip Pollendene.”
Rip didnât reply as he struggled not to bounce off the muleâs back, while Avery tightened her grip around his waist, trying not to fall either. Hardly the mode of transportation sheâd imagined when Rip mentioned a revolution. However, in the few minutes it took to reach the main road, she adjusted to Midnight’s gait, and had to admit that they were making much better time than when they were walking. She just couldn’t think about how ridiculous they must look.
As Rip had predicted, the road to the power plant was paved and wide enough for two vehicles to pass. But the people Jasper had talked about weren’t apparent at first. Instead, they encountered heavy limbs and entire trees strewn across the road. Midnight easily sidestepped the obstacles, but other vehicles hadn’t fared so well. They passed both motorized carts and several of the horse-drawn variety abandoned and stuck in the mud off the side of the road.
After the mule carefully picked his way over a particularly large tree completely blocking the pavement, they ran into their first people. Two elderly men and three young teen boys stopped and eyed them warily.
“Where you get that mule?” an old man leaning on a cane demanded.
“Jasper Parlier loaned him to me,” Rip replied, not slowing Midnight’s pace.
“Bon,” the man acknowledged with a wave of his hand.
“Apparently Jasper and his mule are well-known in these parts,” Rip commented when they were out of ear shot.
“Glad they believed you.” Avery didn’t want to consider what might happen if the next people didn’t. Or worse, if they recognized Rip and unlike Jasper, didn’t like the Pollendenes.
But their luck held, because the next people they encountered were three women, one with a baby balanced on her hip. The three of them stood on the edge of the pavement and silently watched as Midnight trotted by.
For more than an hour, Rip and Avery continued to wind their way around debris and past people. Nobody spoke, much less challenged them, though one man leading a donkey actually called to Midnight.
“Very well-known,” Rip muttered under his breath as the mule twitched his long ears.
Avery gave up trying to shift her position, and her rear had long since gone numb. The road grew steeper, with a canyon on one side that she avoided looking down, though she could hear rushing water far below. She knew they couldn’t dismount because they might not be able to remount. Midnight must have been getting tired too, for his head seemed to droop lower and his plodding slowed.
Was he hungry? Thirsty? In spite of her misgivings, Avery was about to ask Rip if they should dismount, when the mule halted suddenly and lifted his ears.
“Is that a horse?” Rip asked, cocking his head.
She heard the distinctive sound of hooves clopping on the pavement, and they were getting louder, which meant the horse was getting closer. Dozens of panicked thoughts tumbled into her brain —
Was there more than one rider?
Were they armed?
Friend or foe?
But before she could blurt out any of them, Midnight brayed, effectively announcing their whereabouts to whomever was approaching.
Chapter 9
Rip jerked the stubborn old mule over to the edge of the roadway, hoping whoever was almost upon them would show no more interest than anyone else had. But the fact that the strangers were coming from the power plant made him nervous, and Averyâs tightened grip told him she shared his anxiety. However, he had no more time to think, for a single mounted rider loped into view.
As Midnight brayed again, the rider slowed, then raised his hand in greeting. “Rip? Avery?”
“Luc!” Rip cried in relief, and in his ear, Avery echoed him.
DuBois pulled his mount, who looked like a heavy draft horse, to a halt. As his gaze moved over them, a grin tugged at Lucâs mouth. “Is that Jasper Parlierâs mule, Midnight?”
Rolling his eyes in disbelief, Rip nodded. “Does everyone in Benezet know this beast and his owner?”
“Everyone in St. Namadie probably does,” Luc answered, chuckling. Then his expression grew stern. “I notice you didnât wait for me or Mama Simone to come for you.”
“We got tired of waiting.” Rip didnât mean to sound quite so defiant.
“Besides, the storm was over,” Avery added.
Luc nodded knowingly, “Thanks to Mama Simone and the other Sage Femmes.” Before Rip could express his skepticism, his friend continued, “The hurricane was headed straight for Benezet, but turned at the last minute and only side swiped us. How do you explain it?”
Properly rebuked, Rip shrugged. “I donât.”
“Were you at the power plant?” Avery interrupted. “Is there fighting? Was anyone hurt?”
Holding up one hand to stop her questions, Luc acknowledged, “It wasnât much of a fight. Our people were already in place when Jean Baptisteâs troops advanced. Only a few shots were exchanged before they realized they were badly outnumbered.”
Rip pictured his cousinâs men struggling uphill, but still found himself incredulous. “They ran without a fight?”
“Pretty much, and more than a few deserted. Your cousin JB is not well-liked and certainly not respected as your father was.” He sounded sincere, but suspicion tightened Ripâs throat. Luc had put on an act for so long, how could he be trusted?
“Weâre marching on the fort in Saturnina to demand an immediate free election. We want you to join us, Rip.”
Exactly what Williams and his CIA buddies wanted, Rip realized. Then he remembered the agentâs dangerous predicament. “What about Williams?”
“Thierry got him moved. Heâs safe for now.”
Behind him, Avery audibly sighed in relief, and Rip admitted to himself that his mind felt easier knowing the agent was still alive. But was he really going to go along with Luc and his rebels? Midnight shifted and the movement caused a twinge of pain in Ripâs injured leg. The injury inflicted by his cousinâs minions â anger over-rode the pain. “Weâre wasting time. Letâs talk while we ride.”
Lucâs grin spread across his face.
“How much farther to the plant?” Avery interrupted.
“Less than an hour,” Luc assured. “Do either of you want to ride with me?”
Avery studied the big horse through narrowed eyes for a moment then shook her head. “Iâll stick with Midnight.”
“Me too,” Rip agreed.
As Luc wheeled his mount around, the mule snorted and trotted off as if he were determined to lead the way. Debris continued to clutter the road, and they met and passed more people. Several called out to them, but most watched in silence as the two mounts went by.
After forty-five minutes, they crested the top of the hill and the power plant came into view, a sprawling mass of concrete and metal not far below them. Rip could see lots of figures milling about the building and grounds, but the roar of water drowned out all other sounds.
His Reluctant Bodyguard Page 11
