Tide and Tempest (Edge of Freedom Book #3) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Elizabeth Ludwig

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197 pages

English

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Two years ago, her fiance perishedduring their voyage to America.Now she discovers it may have been murder...Dreaming of a better life, Tillie McGrath leaves Ireland behind and, with her beloved fiance by her side, sets sail for America. But when illness robs her of the man she holds dear, she's left alone with only a handful of tattered memories. While forging on proves difficult, Tillie soon finds some new friends at her New York boardinghouse, and begins pursuing a new dream--to open a home for orphaned children.Despite two years passing, Captain Keondric Morgan has never forgotten the lass who left his ship so heartbroken. When a crewman's deathbed confession reveals her fiance's demise was the result of murder, the captain knows he must try to contact her. But his attention draws the notice of others as well--dangerous men who believe Tillie has in her possession something that could expose their crimes. And to their way of thinking, the best way to prevent such an outcome is to seize the evidence and then hand Tillie the same fate as her naïve fiance.

Sujets

Historical fiction

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	04 mars 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441263582
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0259€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2014 by Elizabeth Ludwig
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan www . bakerpublishinggroup . com
Ebook edition created 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6358-2
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota
Author is represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.
To Lee You’re my husband and best friend, the hero of my dreams.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
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11
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Elizabeth Ludwig
Back Ads
Back Cover
1
“Captain Morgan? Sir?”
Keondric Morgan glared over his shoulder at the deckhand waving furiously at him from the bow of the Caitriona Marie . He slowed his steps, halting the rhythmic cadence of his feet against the gangplank. “What now, Donal?”
His fingers beat with irritation against the pouch strapped to his side. He had somewhere to be, and if he had to mind every move his crewmen made, he’d never get there.
“The doctor, sir.” Donal shifted from foot to foot and tugged at the collar of his shirt.
Blowing an impatient blast from his lips, Morgan lifted his cap, dragged his fingers through his hair, and gestured for him to continue. “Well? Go on, man, what about him?”
“What . . . uh . . .” Knuckles white as he gripped the rail, he glanced over his shoulder and back, then cupped a hand to his mouth and leaned out over the water. “What should we do with him, sir?”
“He’s dead, Donal,” Morgan shouted back, raising his voice to be heard above the flocks of sea gulls arguing overhead. “What do you think we should do with him? Contact his next of kin and see about getting him buried!”
Sighing, Donal grumbled, “’Twould have been easier if the man had died at sea.”
A lull in the noise clamoring from the vessels along the dock carried his words to Morgan’s ears. He paused mid-turn and narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”
Donal’s chin lowered. “Nothing, sir.”
“Good. See to it, then.” Jamming his hands into his pockets, Morgan hunched his shoulders, spun on his heel, and stormed down the gangplank. The doctor’s death disturbed him, but not nearly as much as did his dying words.
“I did it, Morgan. God help me, I took the money.”
He scowled as he stomped off the wooden slats of the dock onto solid ground. He’d been weeks at sea, but this time there was no pleasure in the earthy scents of soil and horses that filled his nostrils, no marveling at the road stretching before him, straight and sturdy, with no rolling pitch for his legs to adjust to. Instead there was just . . . irritation?
He mulled the thought like a sore tooth. When the truth finally hit him, he growled low in his throat, feeling as though he’d been blindsided.
Nay. It was guilt.
Swinging off the dirt road toward a line of carriages for hire, he withdrew a coin from his pocket and flagged the first driver he saw.
Just what did he have to feel guilty for? It wasn’t he who’d greased the doctor’s palm. He hadn’t even known about the plot until a few hours ago. He hunkered into his coat. Would that he’d remained oblivious.
He paid the driver, grumbling to himself as he climbed into the carriage. Not true. He knew everything that happened on his ship. It was the fact that the good doctor’s deed had been accomplished under his nose that made his blood boil.
“Captain! Wait up.” His first mate jogged down the dock toward him, his dark hair flopping over his brow. Panting, he skittered to a stop and gripped the side of the carriage. “Where you headed?” Before Morgan could answer, he vaulted onto the seat across from him. “You going to see the lass, eh? The one whose husband—”
“Quiet!”
Morgan’s low snarl sliced the words from Cass’s tongue. He glanced at the driver, then flushed red. “Sorry, Cap.”
Morgan waved for the driver to proceed and then settled back against the seat, his arms crossed over his chest. “You know I hate it when you call me Cap.”
“Right. Sorry, Ca . . . Morgan.”
Morgan glared at his younger brother. “That one was on purpose.”
A devilish twinkle lit Cass’s eyes, but he neither admitted nor denied Morgan’s charge. “So? What about it?”
Now that the rumbling carriage drowned their conversation, Morgan could relax. He shrugged. “Not sure yet. Guess we’ll see what happens when I find her.”
“Any idea where to look?”
He gave a curt nod. “Ashberry Street. That’s where I left her.”
“Do you really think she’s still there?”
“If not, my problem is easily solved, eh?”
Cass’s brow gathered in a skeptical frown. “I know you, dear brother. Remember? You’re hardly likely to let this thing go as simply as that.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, his lithe body swaying with the rocking of the carriage. “I don’t like this, Morgan. I still think we ought to bury the doc and say nothing.”
Morgan’s thoughts flashed to their mother, back home in Dublin. He angled his chin with a grimace. “Aye, and what would Ma have to say about that? You think she’d approve?”
Cass grunted and threw himself against the seat, matching Morgan’s crossed arms. “And why would we even tell her?”
“I wouldn’t have to. She’d know something was up the moment she caught sight of our faces.”
“Yours maybe,” Cass sneered, then ducked Morgan’s fist and threw his hands high in surrender. “What? You couldn’t lie to save your life and you know it.”
“Aye, but unfortunately you can. Ma never leaves the confessional, thanks to you. Probably has a candle with your name on it burning right now.”
Cass’s deep laugh was contagious. With his answering smile, a bit of the tension eased from Morgan’s shoulders. Ach, but glad he was that his brother had finally abandoned the wiles of wine and women and joined him on the ship. Maybe he could finally start thinking about—
He cut short the idea of Cass supporting their mother. Nothing that happened after their father’s death was his brother’s fault. He was the eldest, not Cass. Providing for the family was his responsibility, just as following in his father’s footsteps and captaining the ship had been his choice to make.
He eyed his brother, lounging casually against the back of the seat. “Cass, I . . . I’d rather you not get involved, if you don’t mind.”
Alarm sparked in his brother’s blue eyes. “So, you are worried.”
Morgan jerked his head to stare at the towering buildings rolling by—so different from their modest cottage in Dublin. “Haven’t had time to be worried. I just found out a few hours ago, remember?”
Cass leaned forward and wagged his finger beneath Morgan’s nose. “That’s another thing. I thought nothing happened on board the ship . . .” Catching sight of the warning glance Morgan shot at him, he broke off and muttered, “Never mind. By the saints, Cap—”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Fie! You’re as ornery as a goat in your old age.”
Morgan bristled. He was only thirty-one, though sitting beside a brother ten years younger tended to make a man feel ancient. “That’s beside the point. I promised Ma I wouldn’t let you swear.”
Cass roared with laughter. “Aye, and I’d like to hear what the other crewmen would say if you tried inflicting your old-maid ways on them.”
“The other crewmen aren’t my baby brother.”
His laughter quieted as a flush crept over Cass’s cheeks.
“Besides,” Morgan continued, softening the barb with a bit of teasing, “they all know better than to curse in front of me.”
Envy shone on Cass’s face as he eyed Morgan’s muscled torso. “Only because they’re afraid of having the life thrashed out of them.”
“A lesson you’d do well to learn.”
Cass smirked. “You can’t beat me to death. Ma won’t let you.”
Morgan fixed him with a menacing glower. “Doesn’t mean I kinna knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.”
“Whoa!” Cass held up his hands. “Calm yourself, big brother. I was just fooling.”
“Exactly. You’re always fooling, which is why I’d rather you steered clear of this mess with Doc, at least until I can figure out what he meant. A man lost his life, and if what Doc said is true . . .” He shook his head. “There be no room for trifling.”
The twinkle faded. Without it, Cass appeared contemplative, even solemn—a rarity that Morgan was glad to see happening more and more often.
Cass lowered his voice. “I’m worried about you, brother. For sure, ain’t no one more capable of looking after himself, but this . . . this has me troubled.” After a moment, he grinned and quirked an eyebrow. “Just be careful, all right?”
Morgan knew exactly what he meant. He’d felt it too, the moment Doc started ranting about poison . . . and murder.
Avoiding his brother’s gaze, he whistled at the driver and motioned for him to pull over.
“What—” Cass sat up and looked at the driver, then at Morgan. “What are you doing?”
“This is where you get off.”
Frowning, Cass unfolded himself from the seat and leapt to the ground, keeping one hand braced on the side of the carriage. “Fine, I’ll go back to the ship.” He offe