Read Love's Rescue for Free Online

“Is everyone all right?”
    Aunt Virginia and Anabelle gave quiet confirmations.
    Slowly Elizabeth got to her knees. Then, in the flicker of moonlight, she saw something glitter inside the hole where the drawer had been. Elizabeth felt around until she could grab it. The object was cold and hard and round in shape. She opened her fingers. In the moonlight she could see the fire of gems and the warmth of gold shaped into a delicate filigreed brooch.
    What was that doing inside the first mate’s desk?
    A knock sounded on the cabin door. The mate?
    After several shuddering thuds, the door scraped open. “Ma’am? Miss? You all need to go topside right now.” The lantern revealed the wild-eyed visage of a deckhand.
    Not the first mate. Elizabeth slipped the brooch into her watch pocket. She’d get it to him later, once everyone reached safety.

    Guided by the moon, Rourke crossed Hawk Channel, safely traversed the reef, and neared the foundered schooner. The seas battered her larboard side, which rose high above the water. The starboard had clearly holed, for it was sunk. A goodly number of men clung to the bulwarks between the forecastle and the great cabin aft. A single lantern illuminated their plight. From what Rourke could see, they’d launched the ship’s boat and were preparing to abandon ship. He counted quickly. Appeared to be a full complement.
    The heaviness in his gut lightened.
    “Glory be,” John said, a smile easing onto his face. “Dey be safe.”
    Rourke could have echoed those words. He ordered the helmsman to keep the Windsprite well off the schooner. Usually he came alongside in the lee, but the schooner’s position made that impossible. The reef jutted nearly to the surface alee of the wreck. He’d keep his distance and take his boat across to the wrecked vessel.
    A large swell crashed over the Windsprite ’s bow, and the helmsman lost her to starboard. The next wave drove her parallel to the wreck—and the reef. One more and they’d find themselves on top of the wrecked schooner.
    “Bring her into the wind,” Rourke yelled.
    The wild-eyed helmsman struggled to bring the Windsprite about, but the force of the seas was too much for one man. Rourke joined the effort, and together they brought her into the wind and out of danger.
    “Drop anchor,” he ordered.
    Only after his men had set anchor fore and aft could Rourke turn his attention to the schooner.
    “Lower the boat!” Rourke fingered the license in his pocket, which he would produce as proof he could complete the job. Masters usually insisted they did not require assistance. This one could not, or he was a fool. He could, however, ask Rourke to tow the wreck off the reef in the hope it would float. The Windsprite ’s boat was already equipped to bring the necessary lines for such an operation.
    Rourke flung one leg over the bulwark and reached for the rope ladder to descend to his boat, but he paused when he noticed the schooner’s boat heading for the Windsprite . Two oarsmen flanked the master and another officer, likely a mate or pilot. If the master was coming to him, the man must have accepted his need for assistance. That made Rourke’s task easier.
    After Rourke’s crew secured the schooner’s boat alongside, the white-haired master climbed aboard, followed by a fussy gentleman that Rourke instantly recognized as the most worthless pilot in Key West. The man—Poppinclerk by name—had the gall to brush at his wool coat as if the Windsprite had dirtied it. No wonder the ship had foundered. Rourke fisted his hands. If any lives were lost due to that dandy’s incompetence, Rourke would pound the man so far out of Key West that he’d never set foot on the island again.
    The master approached. “Captain Cross of the schooner Victory out of Charleston. Are you a wrecker?”
    “I am.” Rourke introduced himself and presented his license. His pulse accelerated. A ship out of Charleston could be hauling valuable