Jewel of Promise (Treasure Quest Book #4) , livre ebook

Treasure Quest Books
Jewel of Promise
Marian Wells
© 1990 by Marian Wells
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Ebook edition created 2012
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
All rights reserved. No part of this publicaion may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording with the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Manuscript edited by Penelope J. Stokes.
Cover illustration by Brett Longley.
eISBN 978-1-4412-6247-9
To my special people:
David, Carol, and Alisha Well,
with thanks to David
for his help on the manuscript
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
About the Author
Books by Marian Wells
Back Cover
Chapter 1
Mike Clancy steered the Golden Awl into the shade of the giant oak tree. Looking up at the long branches hanging low over the Mississippi, he grinned with satisfaction. They created a tunnel of cool shadows, but it was more than cool comfort Mike sought. Thinking of the cargo in the main cabin, Mike felt the familiar thrill of apprehension.
With the last thrust of the paddles, he sent the little sternwheeler in against the bank. He nodded to the Negro roustabout watching him from the main deck. The fellow jumped to the bank, tugged the boat close and wrapped the rope around the tree. By the time the man came aboard, Mike had clattered down the metal stairway and was waiting at the railing.
He nodded to the roustabout and lowered his voice. “This is a nice quiet place to spend the night, Jake.”
“The old river’s mighty low,” Jake murmured. “Them frogs going to have mud up to their knees.”
“Shall we drop a fishing line over while we’re waiting on sunset?”
The man nodded and went after the tackle. Mike poked at the can of worms nestled in the coil of a rope. Silently they baited their hooks and dropped them into the water swirling past the hull. Jake pulled in his first fish, nodded toward the river, and said, “Might be that boat ’longside of us this afternoon was river patrol.”
“I wondered too.” Mike muttered. “He cut his speed every time we did.” A yellowing leaf dropped into the water, and Mike looked up at the tree. “Riverboating is about finished for the fall for the likes of us, at least. Don’t feel safe taking it down without a full crew.”
Jake pulled in a big catfish. “Reckon the darkies will make a good stew out of this one. Want I should take it upstairs?”
“Might as well. Clean them both. I’ll keep my hook in the water until dark. Tell them to keep the place dark. They can open the door to the cabin, but not a sound. We’re sure missing Olivia this trip; the little ones need someone to give them attention.”
With a nod Jake carried the fish upstairs. Mike coiled his line and leaned against the railing, whistling tunelessly as he watched the river. The darkness deepened until his arms, folded across the railing, seemed an extension of its whiteness.
A fish jumped midstream. Mike was watching the phosphorescent arc when he heard a whisper of sound. Leaning back against the white bulkhead, he strained to hear over the thumping of his heart. When he heard a rustle of dry leaves, he relaxed. “Deer or cow,” he muttered.
But as he peered into the shadows, a shadow moved away from the trunk of an oak, paused, came swiftly down the bank, and leaped over the railing. Even in the darkness he could see the creature as it landed on the deck, nearly at his feet. He grasped the object and felt warmth and motion. A voice squealed. “Oh, another one,” he muttered.
The warm softness pulled away from Mike. “You startled me. I didn’t know anyone was here. Take me to your master.”
The voice was feminine and very Southern, confirming his suspicion. “I am the master,” he said. “What is your business?”
There was a gasp. “Business? I guess I need a ride. I have money; I’ll buy my trip north. You must be going that way at least, you’re pointed upstream. Send someone to fetch my valise it’s over in the bushes.”
He hesitated, annoyed by the demanding Southern voice. This one’s no doubt been beaten for being arrogant. He heard Jake’s footsteps on the stairs. “Jake, go get that bag.” Abruptly he grasped her arm. “Who told you about us?”
“No one. I I’ve just been looking for a ride. I’m running away.”
“That’s obvious. Are you alone? Does your master live close by?”
“Master? No, no, you don’t understand. I’ve walked forever.”
Still uneasy, Mike tried to see the face hidden by deep shadows. Slowly he admitted, “Well, we’ve made it a point to not turn anyone away. But there’s always a possibility for the sake of the others I don’t want to be caught. Come on. We’ll get some food into you. I suppose you haven’t eaten for a couple of days. Oh, Lord, I wish Alex were here,” Mike muttered, leading the way up the stairs.
The first gleam of moonlight filtered through the branches of the tree as he walked into the cabin. The glow from the cookstove fire outlined the dark heads of the people lining the table. He closed the door and said, “We’ll need some light. We have another passenger for the Underground Railroad.”
Mattie turned from the stove. “There’s candles on the table just awaitin’ on y’all. Tessie, get us another trencher for this stew. Goin’ to be crowded in here, Mike.”
“Let’s get the trenchers filled, and then some of you can move out to sit under the stairs.”
The candle flared, and the line of dark, shining faces was illuminated. Mike turned toward the girl. He caught his breath. Stunned, he could only stare from her flaming red hair to her wide blue eyes set in white, white skin. He fought the dismay in his voice as he said, “With that accent I figured you to be a slave. Couldn’t see in the dark. Well,” he turned back to the silent group, “it’s obvious I’ve taken on a passenger I shouldn’t have. Miss, we’ll haul you up to Paducah, and then you can look for accomodations more comfortable.”
She narrowed her eyes and looked at Mike. “Slaves, huh? This is one of those boats that haul stolen property up to Canada? Well, I sure didn’t guess that. I ” Slowly she stopped, aware that she was making her own situation more difficult. “Please, can’t you give me a ride? I can’t risk being caught. I did run away. I must go as far north as possible.”
Jake stepped close to Mike. “Suh.” By candlelight Mike could see his eyes were uneasy. “Suh, wasting time in Paducah, we could get caught right off. Maybe that boat was river patrol.”
Mike looked into the young woman’s wide eyes, saw her clasped hands, and turned to pace the cabin. He recalled Alex’s story about Olivia joining the group in much the same way. For a moment Mike brightened. She’s just a little snip of a thing. Her eyes were dark, wide circles in the gloom of the cabin lovely eyes. He softened.
“Guess we don’t have a choice,” he said gruffly.
****
The following day, with the morning sun nearly overhead, Mike heard the girl’s heels clicking rapidly up the stairs to the pilot house. She swirled through the door, settled her billowing skirts and ran her hands over her hair. “This wind is tearing me apart!”
“Rough water ahead,” he muttered after a quick glance at her. “Mind bringing up a fresh pot of coffee?”
“Me? I’m no slave. I’ll tell that girl Tessie to bring it to you after I’ve had my say. I told you last night I’d pay my way, but I didn’t agree to share my cabin with slaves. Them the children fussed all night.” She lifted her chin. “Please get them out of there before tonight.”
Mike studied the current, watching the upcoming snag. Working to keep the impatience out of his voice, he said, “I can’t shove all those slaves into the same cabin. Those women feel just as you do; they want a little privacy, away from the men. You’ll have to be content with matters as they stand.”
“I shall not!” She stomped her foot. “I’ll sleep on the deck before I spend another such night.”
Mike sighed. “I’ve been sleeping in here. You can have the pilot house. But mind you, the wind blows through here at night.”
“Well, I suppose it would be better for you to sleep on deck than me .”
As she went through the door he said, “Please don’t forget the coffee. And you bring it, I want to talk to you.”
An hour later he heard hesitant steps on the stairs. Visualizing her struggle with the pot of hot coffee, he grinned. Little lady, it just may not hurt you a mite to be on this trip with the likes of us common folk.
She carried the coffee pot and mugs in the familiar wooden box. There was bread and meat also. “Pour the coffee and bring it here. It’s a nice smooth stretch of river; I can handle the bread and meat, too.”
She came with the coffee and bread. Curiosity filled her eyes as she held out the sandwich and said, “I’ll hold the coffee.”
He studied the hand holding the sandwich. Her fingernails were ragged, as if they had been chewed. As he accepted the sandwich, he felt her rough hand against his.
She watched him take a bite, then asked, “You’re Irish, aren’t you? I guessed. You sound like a fella I knew ” she gulped. “Your brogue, it is.”
He nodded, swallowed the bite and said, “Name’s Mike Clancy.