For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (11 page)

“ ’Tis only part of what I shall do if ye try to touch Miss Campbell again.” Malcolm placed his hand on Lauren’s back, guiding her toward the steps. “We shall go see the cap’n an’ explain why one o’ his sailors has a broken hand and nose. To make sure he is told the right version of the story.”

Malcolm gripped her hand and led her down the steps from the poop deck. They passed by the old man at the wheel on the quarterdeck. The sound of the music grew louder as they drew closer.

“Are ye all right, lass?” Malcolm asked.

“Aye. Ye came at the right time.” She squeezed his hand to let him know her gratefulness. “Thank ye.”

“There is the captain.” Malcolm pointed across the dancers to where the captain stood by the water barrel, talking to Pastor Brad and Dr. Taylor. He pulled her along, hurrying toward the captain.

Lauren struggled to keep up, taking two steps to each one of his. She was out of breath by the time they arrived at the captain’s side. Malcolm relayed the details of the incident. Pastor Brad expressed his concern for her, and she assured him she was fine.

“I am sorry for the discourtesy of my first mate and relieved to know your honor was not compromised.” Captain Edwards gave her a brief bow. “While I cannot do without the skills of my first mate, he shall be properly reprimanded, I assure you.”

“He should be locked up,” Malcolm said, his tone fierce as he rubbed the back of his neck and paced. “He canna be trusted.”

“I have been trusting him for nigh on three years now. A beautiful woman caught his attention, and he had a weak moment. I refuse to destroy a man’s position for one mistake.”

“ ’Twould be a dishonorable mistake.” Malcolm turned and met the captain’s gaze. “His behavior is no better than a lewd pirate, and if ye allow ’im to behave like that, ye’re no different.”

“I told you he will be punished. Now if you will excuse me, I shall see the deed is done.” Captain Edwards walked away.

“Strange, how everyone is dancing and merry as if naught has happened.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Laughter and music filled her ears, but her heart wasn’t so merry.

“Lauren, ye need time to recover. Stay with me a wee bit afore ye retire for the night. I want to make sure ye’re well.”

“I shall be fine. What amazes me is how I never thought I could be so grateful to ye, but tonight, I have never been more relieved to hear yer voice.” Lauren reached up to cup his cheek and searched his hazel eyes in the lantern light. “Thank ye.”

Malcolm couldn’t sleep. He slipped out of the hammock and crept across the room to grab his boots. The boards creaked beneath his feet, but his cabinmates continued to snore as usual.

Outside in the hallway, he pressed one foot inside his boot and then the other. After lacing them, he slid along the wall until his toes hit the bottom step. He climbed up to the main deck.

Fresh air filled his lungs, tinged with the salty sea. White stars filled the black sky with a bright moon shining down upon them. The wee morning hours beckoned Malcolm through the fog hovering over the water’s surface.

He shivered in the cool air, wishing he had thought to bring his plaid. Malcolm rubbed his hands and blew on them. The aroma of brewing coffee teased his nose. What he would give for a warm cup of coffee. He followed his senses as his mouth watered.

Voices brought him up short as he blinked to make out the figures in the fog. Pastor Brad sat on a barrel with an open book on his lap, reading in a monotone voice. People sat on the deck floor with various expressions, but no one could doubt how intensely they listened.

Malcolm took slow, steady steps toward them, careful not to disturb anyone. Curiosity drew him like a moth to lantern light. He assumed Pastor Brad read from the Bible, but what had these people so mesmerized?

He wasn’t such a heathen that he’d never attended church. On many Sundays, he had taken his mother, but the boring sermons caused his mind to wander to different places. There was only so much talk he could tolerate on judgment and eternal damnation. His list of sins was quite long. What to do about it eluded him. It seemed God expected him to be a perfect and loyal subject. It was impossible when the Campbells were forever provoking the MacGregors to hunger and poverty.

“Coffee?” The cook pointed to a steaming pot. He held up a wooden cup. Malcolm had never seen the ship’s cook, but the man wore an apron around his bulging middle so Malcolm assumed he was the cook. At Malcolm’s nod, he poured the dark brew. “We only serve it black.” The cook whispered as he held it out.

Malcolm wrapped his fingers around the warm cup, thankful for the warmth. He sipped the coffee, reveling as the hot liquid heated his insides and pooled in his empty stomach. For a man as large as he, it must have looked comical to see him shivering like a wee child.

“Malcolm.” Someone whispered his name. He turned to scan the people sitting on the floor. One pulled a plaid from her head, and he recognized familiar blonde locks. Lauren motioned for him to sit by her. Her bright blue eyes sparkled, and she awarded him with a brilliant smile, the kind he’d hoped to see when she looked at him.

He walked toward her, but it was as if his feet floated. All night he had worried about her after Mr. MacKinnon’s near attack. Had she cried herself to sleep? Would she be afraid for her safety during the rest of the journey? As he lowered himself beside her, he sensed no reservation or fear in her.

She turned her attention back to Pastor Brad, a look of awe and adoration upon her face. She closed her eyes and swayed at the words as if they were music to her ears. Her hands clasped in front of her, and the angelic, peaceful expression on her face caused a longing in Malcolm he had never felt before.

Malcolm shook his head to clear it, but the cloud over his mind lingered. He took a deep swallow of coffee, allowing the liquid to burn down his throat. It gave him the jolt he needed. The foggy haze over his mind faded, and he blinked, glancing over at Lauren’s profile again. Her expression had not changed, but her eyes were now open.

Lauren stared up at the orange glow now budding in the skyline where it met the ocean in the east. She sighed in contentment and grabbed his hand. “God’s glory is about to rise,” she whispered. “Did ye know His mercies are new each morn?”

He shook his head. The coffee helped, but it wasn’t able to shake off this strange effect Lauren had on him. Pastor Brad’s voice penetrated his mind as he sat beside Lauren and watched the sunrise.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind,” Pastor Brad said.

Malcolm contemplated the verse. Could that be why Lauren wasn’t frightened after last night’s incident? Malcolm didn’t have the same security as she. What if he wasn’t around the next time Hugh MacKinnon wanted to take advantage of her? Men like that didn’t give up so easily. They took what they wanted while others beneath their authority looked away and pretended they didn’t know in order to save their livelihood.

The pastor bowed in prayer, and the rest of them did the same, including Malcolm. He closed his eyes out of respect. When it was over, Lauren touched his arm.

“Ye surprised me in coming to our morning devotions,” she said.

“I could not sleep.” He motioned around them. “Ye do this every morning?”

“Aye.” She nodded. “Except the morning after the storm. It helps to remind us of God’s love and His promises when things
seem so bleak. It gives me hope when I am tempted to give up.”

“To give up yer faith?” Malcolm asked. It never occurred to him that she felt that way.

“Nay, not in my faith or in God, but in people.” She smiled. “God always works through people.”

Several days turned into a few weeks, and with the illnesses that the indentured servants came down with, Mr. MacKinnon’s unto-
ward behavior faded to more urgent matters—death and disease. If the captain ever punished Mr. MacKinnon, none of them knew it.

Lauren brushed her hair from her face as she made her way from the sickroom to her cabin. It was late, and once again, she had missed dinner. A painful headache pressed against her temples, and her shoulder muscles had tightened into knots.

During the past two weeks, Lauren spent more time working in the infirmary. An illness spread among the passengers in the hold, and several lost their lives. Tonight, it was Amy Murray’s turn to care for the ill while Lauren and Dr. Taylor caught up on their rest.

It was rare to see Malcolm. If she made it back to her cabin, she fell asleep in her hammock before her cabinmates returned.

Lauren’s stomach rumbled as she pushed open her cabin door. A lit lantern hung in the corner, casting shadows on the dark walls. Voices came to an abrupt stop as several pairs of eyes looked up at her.

“Each of us saved a portion of our dinner for ye.” Deidra carried a wrapped package to her.

“Aye, ye’re working too hard,” Kathleen said, her eyes filled with concern.

They sat on the floor with Logan, Malcolm, and Archie. A stack of cards had fallen over between them. Malcolm held out a wooden cup of water. “Here, ye’ll need this to wash it down.”

Lauren dropped beside him with a grateful sigh. “Thank ye. I am starving, and I have a headache that feels like an ax in my skull.”

“If ye do not rest more, ye could end up as sick as the rest o’ them.” Malcolm lifted an eyebrow. “Then who will care for them?”

“If we had more volunteers, those of us helping would not have to work so hard or long.” Lauren bit into the beef jerky. The salty meat tasted better than she remembered. She must be hungrier than she thought. Beef jerky had never been her favorite. In fact, she had forced herself to get used to it the first couple of weeks on the ship. An endless supply of it seemed to be their main course.

“Well, then, I suppose the rest of ye can pitch in on my behalf or in my memory.” Lauren touched the side of her head, hoping the pounding would soon fade with a bit of food.

“Ye’re not already sick, are ye?” Malcolm leaned forward with a frown. He pressed the back of his knuckles against her forehead.

“Nay, merely tired and hungry.” Lauren took another bite. “With a satisfied belly and some decent sleep, I should be back to myself in the morn.”

“Lauren, I do not think ye should go back on the morrow. Yer body is fighting exhaustion. I read about it in one of my health books while teaching.” Kathleen touched her hand and looked into Lauren’s eyes. “When ye wear yerself down like that, ’tis easier to get sick. Ye’ve got to take care if ye want to keep serving people.”

“I want ye to rest for the next two days.” Malcolm crossed his arms and set his chin at a stubborn angle she had come to recognize.

“Well, ye do not own me.” Lauren’s ire rose. She clenched her jaw. “I will not allow it. Those people deserve to be cared for as if they matter. Everyone else on this ship is too afraid to go around them lest they become sick themselves. I have naught to lose. I know where I am going when I pass. I will stay with them until they breathe their last, and no one will stop me, not even ye, Malcolm MacGregor.”

He stared at her with an unchanging expression. Tense silence spread among them, but Lauren refused to budge. The others stared back and forth between them.

“Um, I think the lass knows her own mind, Malcolm.” Archie gave a nervous chuckle.

“I do not care. I canna risk it.” Malcolm’s unwavering tone pierced Lauren like a sword. “Ye shall rest the next two days an’ we will see how ye feel afterward. I dislike this headache ye have. Ye never complain.”

“Ye canna fool me, Malcolm. Ye’re a good mon, but I know the real reason ye want naught to happen to me.” Lauren swallowed, blinking back hot tears stinging her eyes. “Ye’re afraid ye will not be able to exchange me for yer mither if I am not healthy or do not make it.”

“Lauren, ’tis more ’n that an’ ye know it, lass.” Malcolm’s gruff voice lowered as he glared at her. “If only that is all it was, I might have gotten more sleep in the last fortnight.”

“Guilt,” Lauren snapped. “Take heart. It only affects those of us who have a conscience.”

“Think of me what ye will. I took the liberty of speaking with Dr. Taylor earlier today an’ he is not expectin’ ye tomorrow.” Malcolm shifted his large legs, crossing them at the ankles.