A Light For My Love (37 page)

"Our backgrounds aren't the problem, Dalton.
And you can always have my ideas. They're yours as long as you can
use them. But I can't marry you, as fond as I am of you, as much as
I respect you. If I ever marry, it will be to a man who needs my
heart."

He watched her, then simply nodded. His
silence was his reply, and she knew her point had reached him.

"Now," she continued softly. "Will you ask
three of the men here to stand watch at that warehouse for the next
few nights?"

He gazed at her for a long moment, obviously
struggling between his wish to deny Jake and his desire to please
her.

"Okay." He exhaled. "Not for Chastaine. But
for you."

*~*~*

When China got home, she pulled off her
gloves and cloak and put them on the hall tree. She wished she
could go to her room and lie down to shut out all the feelings
besieging her—anxiety, grief, fatigue.

A jumble of questions whirled in her mind.
Would Quinn wire her? She didn't even know if he was in San
Francisco. He could be on a voyage somewhere. And where had Jake
gone after he'd left her? She knew he was old enough to take care
of himself, but she couldn't help but worry about him.

Passing the back parlor, she saw Aunt Gert
sitting at the marble-topped table, her white head bent over her
calling cards. China ambled in and dropped tiredly to the sofa.

Gert glanced at her over her spectacles, then
went back to the task. "Jake was here an hour ago," she said,
pulling out a misfiled card. "He

took all of his belongings and left. He
didn't look very good."

So he'd gone already, China lamented. "Did he
tell you what happened this morning?" she asked quietly.

Gert nodded and leveled a vaguely accusing
frown on her. "He did. Do you think it was fair to involve him in
your business with that sailors league?"

China sat up, suddenly defensive. "Is that
what he said? I didn't involve him. He took it upon himself to look
for me last night at Harbor House."

"Well, heavens above, child, what did you
expect him to do, let you risk your neck in a riot? You've taken
lots of chances over the last two years, but that was probably the
most dangerous. And it put him in danger, too."

The last two years? China had allowed herself
to be openly associated with the league only a few weeks earlier at
the dinner party. No one else besides Dalton knew what she'd been
doing. "I thought the league was a worthwhile charity—"

Gert plowed on with mild vexation, as though
China hadn't spoken. "And I’ll tell you, I held my breath every
time you went out to the carriage house. Why, anything could have
happened to you. When Jake got here, I was glad to see that he
figured out what you were doing and started watching out for
you."

"You knew about the carriage house?" China
stared at her aunt, her jaw agape.

"Of course I did. I know more than you think
about what goes on around here."

China was astounded. "You never said anything
. . ."

"There wasn't any point. You're as stubborn
as Quinn, in your own way. Besides, dangerous as it was, I thought
taking care of those men might make you feel a little better about
Ryan." Aunt Gert tapped a stack of cards on the tabletop and put
them in their box.

She had believed herself to be so clever,
thinking that her dotty aunt was completely unaware of her
activities. She was beginning to doubt everything she'd been
certain of even just yesterday.

"How did you find out?" she asked, feeling
curiously breathless.

"I had a talk with Dalton Williams one day
when I went out back looking for my old iron kettle. You can well
imagine my surprise when I found him out there patching up an
injured sailor. We'd met, of course, the day he came to tell us
about your brother. But that didn't explain what he was doing there
that afternoon, and I demanded that he tell me." She fanned the
edges of the next batch of cards. "When he balked, I threatened to
send for the police and have him arrested for trespassing. He
talked, all right. But he asked me not to trouble you with it—he
said you had enough to worry about."

Dalton had never mentioned it either. "Does
anyone else in the house know about this?" China murmured.

"Certainly not! When have I ever been a
talebearer? I'm sure Susan doesn't know much of anything, truth be
told. And Cap, well, that dear old dickens, he's not one to mince
words, or to keep his opinions to himself." This last observation
brought a secret smile and a blush of color to Gert's thin face.
She dropped her gaze to a cherub-laden card on the cool marble
table.

Despite the surprises being flung at her,
China didn't miss this last one, and her brows rose at Gert's
modest blush. Aunt Gert and Captain Meredith? Ever since Jake had
arrived, China had been so preoccupied with her own worries, it
seemed she'd lost track of the daily doings of the household.

"You and Cap?" she sputtered.

"He's winked at me a few times, and I won't
deny he's caught my attention. Think we're too old, do you?" Gert
challenged.

China sighed and massaged her forehead. "No,
but it wouldn't matter what I think anyway. I've been wrong about
so many things, Aunt Gert. I thought I wanted my old life back, but
then when those people came for dinner, I realized how boring and
shallow they are."

The older woman wagged a finger at her. "Some
are, but not all of them."

"I'd always believed that Jake was no good,"
China continued. "That he was immoral and irresponsible, that he
had no honor."

"And that wasn't true either, was it?"

China's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "No.
I was wrong about that too."

Gert reached over and patted her hand. "You
can't be certain of what's in a person's heart just because of
where he was born. You have to take each person you meet as an
individual. Jake is no saint. But he's ten times the man that
Zachary Stowe will ever be." Gert gave her a patient smile. "Don't
be too hard on yourself, dear. At least you learned from your
mistakes."

She had, but China feared that she'd learned
it all too late.

*~*~*

Late that afternoon, a young man in a billed
cap and a dark coat pedaled his bicycle up the steep hill to the
biggest house in Astoria. He carried with him a telegram addressed
to the lady of that house, Miss China Sullivan. The young man had
transcribed the wire himself, turning meaningless dots and dashes
into an intelligible message that read:

will arrive astoria in seven days with ship
and full crew stop

tell jake and family stop

quinn sullivan

China stood at the open front door and held
the telegram in shaking hands.

She glanced up at the receding messenger, who
was now just a dark image at the far end of the street.

Tell Jake and family
.

She wasn't ready to kill the fatted calf just
yet, although the tone of Quinn's unadorned directive suggested
that he felt it was in order. But he was coming. At least he was
coming.

Tomorrow morning she would set the second
part of her plan in motion, and it would be the riskiest thing
she'd yet dared.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“It was terrible news, China," Peter Hollis
said, shaking his head. "The crimps don't fear the law, and
apparently they have no need to. It's got to stop. I didn't see the
fire myself, but I've talked with others who saw the flames from as
far away as Main Street. I suppose Captain Chastaine is busy trying
to sort it all out."

China sat across from Peter in his office at
Pacific Maid Packing Company. He was the last of Jake's shippers
that she needed to speak with. So far she'd convinced all but one
of them to wait for Quinn's ship. Some had required the collateral
she offered. The others had waived that right.

She smoothed her grape faille skirt. "That's
exactly it, Peter. Jake is occupied, and since he and I are
partners in this venture, I'm trying to help with the details." She
explained that her brother was on his way from San Francisco to
provide transport.

"Mr. Buchanan, Mr. Stanhope, Mr. Boyer, the
Fields brothers—they've all agreed to let their merchandise stand
in the warehouse until Quinn arrives. It will mean only a week's
delay."

Peter leaned back in his chair, pensively
rubbing his bearded cheek with the backs of his well-tended
fingers. "I don't know. It sounds risky. Chastaine is on the
crimps' blacklist now; they may not be finished with him yet. In a
fire, tin cans explode, their labels burn off. It would rain canned
salmon all over the waterfront." He shuddered at the picture.

China remembered that the night of the dinner
party, Peter had shown the most trepidation when Dalton spoke of
battling shanghaiing Even as a youngster, he'd been fretful and
cautious. She wasn't particularly surprised that he hesitated
now.

"Dalton Williams is providing three men to
stand guard at the warehouse," she countered.

"I don't mean to dampen your enthusiasm,
China. And believe me, I certainly appreciate your efforts. But the
guard could conceivably be overpowered. That cargo is worth a lot
of money to this cannery. I probably shouldn't mention this,
but—well, we just couldn't afford a loss like that. As a matter of
fact, my father is trying to sell his bar piloting business to
generate capital for Pacific Maid. I'm afraid I'll have to decline
your offer and pull our cargo out of there."

China suppressed a sigh and looked directly
into Peter's bland face. "Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable if
some kind of collateral secured our agreement."

Peter leaned forward, suddenly curious again.
"Collateral? What did you have in mind?"

"My home."

He sat up straighter. His brows nearly
reached his receding hairline. Such a young man to be losing his
hair, she thought irrelevantly.

"Excuse m-me?" he stumbled.

She'd already done this three times today,
but that didn't make it any easier. Her hands grew icy in her
gloves. "If your cargo is damaged before it's loaded or if you lose
money because of the delay, you will be reimbursed. That's a
guarantee. And I'm offering my house as security."

Peter fidgeted in his chair and began
straightening the items on his scarred oak desk. "This hardly
seems—" His hand strayed to the inkwell, then over to the blotter.
"—I don't know. A lady's home—" He pushed a stack of papers away,
then pulled them back. Clearly he was unsettled by her offer.

"Trust me, Peter. I wouldn't make such a
proposal if I had any doubts about the safety of your merchandise."
She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. The truth was,
anything could go wrong, and if she lost the house to pay these
men, the family could be on the street. But Jake had no confidence
left at all, and she was mostly to blame. She gathered her
remaining courage and smiled at Peter Hollis. "But if you agree,
I'll be happy to have the contract drawn up."

He studied her for a moment, then shook his
head. "No. I'll leave my salmon in your warehouse until Quinn gets
here. But I think I can manage without collateral."

China quietly released the breath she held.
"Good, then. We'll be in touch when Quinn arrives."

Peter escorted her to the door, and China
left feeling triumphant.

She turned for home, tired but pleased with
what she'd accomplished. She had no practical business experience
beyond collecting rent money from her boarders and stalling
creditors. To make up for it, she'd taken advantage of the scanty
remains of her social standing. She still knew many of the people
Jake had courted, and that act, combined with the dinner party, had
helped her gain access to these men's offices. And once inside, she
found she was able to win their confidence.

The sun rode low on the western horizon as
China neared her street, and the shadows grew long. This morning,
before she set out on this round of calls, she'd sent a message to
Jake at his father's house, asking him to meet her at the house
tonight around six so they could discuss all of this. There was
just enough time to get something to eat and wash her face before
he arrived. She yearned to see him, to be in the same room with him
again, if only for a little while. Maybe if he knew she wanted to
help him, he'd feel more kindly toward her.

Just as she climbed the front steps, Aunt
Gert, Susan, and Cap came tumbling out the front door.

"Oh, hello, dear," Aunt Gert said, somewhat
breathlessly. "We had an early dinner. I left a plate for you in
the oven."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"No time to talk now, Missy. See you when we
get back." Cap stumped along behind the two women, and they all
headed down the twilight street toward town.

"Well, for heaven's sake," China exclaimed,
watching them hurry away. The three of them looked like a funny
little family, with Cap and Gert as the white-haired, elderly
parents and Susan Price as their daughter. China wondered briefly
where they were going, but Jake was uppermost in her thoughts,
crowding out her curiosity. Her feeling of isolation was stronger
than ever.

She made her way to the kitchen, found her
dinner, and sat at the table to eat by herself. She thought of the
nights Jake had eaten in here alone, when she'd bothered to put
something aside for him, and she suffered a pang of conscience.

After eating, she washed her face, repinned
her hair, and hurried downstairs to the alcove to wait for Jake.
Surely he would be here. So much was at stake; he couldn't just
walk away from everything he'd worked for.

But the minutes ticked on. The house was too
quiet. Suddenly her mind jumped ahead to the coming years, and she
imagined being alone here, with no one. Aunt Gert and Cap gone,
Susan gone. She shivered. If it hadn't been for them, she would be
in the house all by herself now, a lonely spinster with nothing.
She smiled a little sadly.