For Love

Chapter 2

LAURIE

Laurie knew she was in Tacoma's harbor. She had awakened to the captain's shouts when they set anchor, but over time his rough voice died below the roar of the downpour. She rested, knowing from experience there was time. In Portland, they had waited for the seas to calm, and the captain had told an anxious Richard he had been lucky the storms only lasted a week.

Now that the rain had quieted to an occasional thump-thump, Laurie dressed in her mother's tartan skirt with one petticoat and a dark blue blouse made of wool as fast as she could, not wanting to do what she planned in the dark. She peeked out her window and saw several more ships anchored close by, each highlighted by the backdrop of a brilliant orange sunset between ominous clouds that churned and disappeared into each other. A little heaven in my hell.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the table under the window and climbed on top. After precariously teetering on her toes while she fought to open the latch, she wiggled her body through the narrow opening and fell with a thud onto the deck. She scrambled to hide behind a corner, rubbing her arm.

One of Richard's deputies ambled around the corner, his head flitting back and forth. Tall and thin, he reminded Laurie of the toothpick he had in his mouth. He sniffed, and while itching his nose he glanced around one last time before disappearing toward her cabin door. Laurie ran up the stairs where a few small rowboats hung through the biting wind. With clumsy fingers numb from the chill, she untied the rigging and forgot to let go of the rope. It burned her hands when she let it loose to fall into the water. Rubbing the sting against her skirt, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. So far, so good.

She tried to hurry across the ship to the stairwell without exposing herself, not realizing most of the other passengers had already hunkered down for the night. She scurried down the first stairwell toward the deck her cabin was on, flitting in and out of corners like a reluctant specter. She was careful but quick. As she edged her way forward, she heard the voices of Richard and his deputies. She ducked behind a secured barrel.

Still for a moment, she inhaled a deep breath of sea air and allowed herself to feel a surge of freedom, even if she hadn't won it yet. It was a relief to be out of the cabin's stuffiness with crisp, salty air being swept across her face. She would never allow someone to lock her in a box again, even if Kenna, her childhood friend, elegantly called it "a hospital room."

The longer she waited thoughts of jumping overboard toyed with her, but she wanted to get closer to the water before attempting it, should the need arise. The water would be too cold, she scolded herself, and she had never swum in a corset and petticoat before. The possibility of drowning kept her rooted to her spot, ignoring her aching knees.

The wind picked up, blowing hard against the boat, pitching it into another hard-rocking motion. She clung to the barrel with her stiff fingers, and a deep rumble from the sky reminded Laurie of how short a window she had until the storm resumed. She bit her lip and tried to think of another way off the boat. The storm might not be over, but the lull in the rain was an advantage she needed.

Drawing a blank, she gave up and stood to sneak past Richard and his men. She stopped, hearing her name followed by laughter. Richard barked something about getting some rest, and the voices drifted further inside the boat. Holding her skirt and petticoat high, Laurie ran in a burst of energy. She fled down the last flight of stairs, slipping a few times as she went. Now level with the water, she ran amidship as fast as she dared toward the fallen rowboat, ignoring the singing from the drunken sailors below.

When she reached the rail where the rowboat drifted closest to her, disappointment burned in her veins. In the turbulent waters it had floated further away than she had expected. She anxiously scanned the nearby shore and tried to decide if she could make it swimming when the scrape of a shoe against the deck made her stomach pitch. She whirled around in time to duck from a pair of gloved hands that tried to grab her and slipped on the slippery planks beneath her feet. She rolled to her stomach only to have her head yanked back so tight she couldn't swallow. She stared up at her attacker.