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Authors: Beth Trissel
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up over its banks. Trying to appear nonchalant, he shrugged. “We’ll see.”
He laid his tomahawk on the worn floorboards. Settling back on the bearskin, he propped himself on his good arm and stretched out his damp boots toward the flames. “Now, tell me why we’ve really come? It wasn’t only the rain that brought us.”
“No.” She swiveled her head at the cabin. The flickering flames cast shadows over the dim interior. “I’m not certain, ’Tis just that I was born in this very room and Mama died soon after. Neeley says I took my first breath as she took her last.”
Pity stirred in Jack, another emotion he’d done his best to keep at bay. “I’m sorry.”
Karin continued solemnly. “I know little about Mama and next to nothing about my father. No one will speak of him.”
“And you hoped to discover more by coming here.”
“How else? You don’t mind my speaking of the past, do you?”
Did he dare tell her how little he minded?
“I’m not sure why Mama was so poorly,” Karin went on. “Uncle Thomas says fever, but I think it had to do with my father. Uncle Thomas said they weren’t wed, not properly, anyway,” she confided in hushed tones. Then her expressive features creased with hurt. “He must have left her with child and it broke her heart, which is truly terrible of him.”
“Indeed. But perhaps he couldn’t help the separation,” Jack suggested.
Softer warmth suffused Karin’s eyes. “I have often wondered that. But why?” She pressed a finger to her chin. “Maybe he was a sailor. A Spanish one.”
If she’d suggested a British general, Jack could hardly have been more surprised. As it was, he nearly choked on the gulp he’d taken from the flask; it was all he could do to answer evenly. “We’re far removed from the sea, hundreds of miles from the nearest port. I’ve journeyed with men from all walks of life during the war, including sailors, and they spoke of the sea.”
A mulish glint lit her eyes. “He could have traveled inland like they did.”
“I suppose so,” Jack indulged her. “Why a Spanish sailor, though? Do you think them especially wayward?”
She flushed prettily. “I do rather. Grandpa says the Spaniards are all pirates. But ’tis my hair and coloring, you see. Unusual.”
Jack fervently agreed. “Indeed.”
She dropped her gaze from his. “So it stands to reason that a Spanish sailor loved my mother and had to leave suddenly and was lost at sea.”
He suspected this wistful conjecture sounded unlikely even to Karin, although her imaginings intrigued him. “Anything’s possible if you cast all reason to the wind.”
“I didn’t,” she argued.
The pout at her mouth beckoned to him damn near irresistibly and he battled to keep his hands and lips to himself. “There is one other thing you might consider regarding your father.”
She locked her eyes on his. “What?”
“Whether your mother left anything of his behind. Say, some sort of gift,” Jack prompted, with something very particular in mind.
Karin lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Neeley did say my father gave Mama a necklace, but I couldn’t persuade her to describe it. She said Grandpa wouldn’t allow Mama to keep it.” Karin brightened. “Pirate gold, maybe?”
Where did she come by these notions? “I doubt even Mister McNeal in all his wrath would throw gold away.”
“Oh, he didn’t toss it. Neeley said Mama hid the necklace before she died.”
Jack sucked in his breath with a subtle hiss. Now this wasn’t whimsy, but something tangible.
He mustn’t appear too eager. “If you were Mary McNeal, where would you hide a forbidden necklace?”
Her brow creased in thought then Karin said, “Here in the cabin, I suppose. She was ill and heavy with child, so not given to long walks.”
This time Jack applauded her logic. “Find the necklace and you’ll have a vital link to your father.”
She eyed him closely. “You seem very sure.”
“I
He laid his tomahawk on the worn floorboards. Settling back on the bearskin, he propped himself on his good arm and stretched out his damp boots toward the flames. “Now, tell me why we’ve really come? It wasn’t only the rain that brought us.”
“No.” She swiveled her head at the cabin. The flickering flames cast shadows over the dim interior. “I’m not certain, ’Tis just that I was born in this very room and Mama died soon after. Neeley says I took my first breath as she took her last.”
Pity stirred in Jack, another emotion he’d done his best to keep at bay. “I’m sorry.”
Karin continued solemnly. “I know little about Mama and next to nothing about my father. No one will speak of him.”
“And you hoped to discover more by coming here.”
“How else? You don’t mind my speaking of the past, do you?”
Did he dare tell her how little he minded?
“I’m not sure why Mama was so poorly,” Karin went on. “Uncle Thomas says fever, but I think it had to do with my father. Uncle Thomas said they weren’t wed, not properly, anyway,” she confided in hushed tones. Then her expressive features creased with hurt. “He must have left her with child and it broke her heart, which is truly terrible of him.”
“Indeed. But perhaps he couldn’t help the separation,” Jack suggested.
Softer warmth suffused Karin’s eyes. “I have often wondered that. But why?” She pressed a finger to her chin. “Maybe he was a sailor. A Spanish one.”
If she’d suggested a British general, Jack could hardly have been more surprised. As it was, he nearly choked on the gulp he’d taken from the flask; it was all he could do to answer evenly. “We’re far removed from the sea, hundreds of miles from the nearest port. I’ve journeyed with men from all walks of life during the war, including sailors, and they spoke of the sea.”
A mulish glint lit her eyes. “He could have traveled inland like they did.”
“I suppose so,” Jack indulged her. “Why a Spanish sailor, though? Do you think them especially wayward?”
She flushed prettily. “I do rather. Grandpa says the Spaniards are all pirates. But ’tis my hair and coloring, you see. Unusual.”
Jack fervently agreed. “Indeed.”
She dropped her gaze from his. “So it stands to reason that a Spanish sailor loved my mother and had to leave suddenly and was lost at sea.”
He suspected this wistful conjecture sounded unlikely even to Karin, although her imaginings intrigued him. “Anything’s possible if you cast all reason to the wind.”
“I didn’t,” she argued.
The pout at her mouth beckoned to him damn near irresistibly and he battled to keep his hands and lips to himself. “There is one other thing you might consider regarding your father.”
She locked her eyes on his. “What?”
“Whether your mother left anything of his behind. Say, some sort of gift,” Jack prompted, with something very particular in mind.
Karin lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Neeley did say my father gave Mama a necklace, but I couldn’t persuade her to describe it. She said Grandpa wouldn’t allow Mama to keep it.” Karin brightened. “Pirate gold, maybe?”
Where did she come by these notions? “I doubt even Mister McNeal in all his wrath would throw gold away.”
“Oh, he didn’t toss it. Neeley said Mama hid the necklace before she died.”
Jack sucked in his breath with a subtle hiss. Now this wasn’t whimsy, but something tangible.
He mustn’t appear too eager. “If you were Mary McNeal, where would you hide a forbidden necklace?”
Her brow creased in thought then Karin said, “Here in the cabin, I suppose. She was ill and heavy with child, so not given to long walks.”
This time Jack applauded her logic. “Find the necklace and you’ll have a vital link to your father.”
She eyed him closely. “You seem very sure.”
“I
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