* * * * *

   

  Kyrah had barely managed to eat an adequate supper when a loud knock came at the door. She peered through the curtain then opened the door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Captain Garret, “Daisy’s not here.”

  “I know,” he replied with an intensity in his eyes that unnerved her. She wasn’t by any means afraid of Captain Garret, but the timing of his visit made her wonder if he knew more about her than she wanted him to. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Very well,” she said, motioning him inside. “Would you like something to drink, or—”

  “No, thank you,” he said. “I’ll get right to the point. It’s something I’ve wondered since the moment I laid eyes on you. I think my instincts told me it was true right from the start, but there was evidence otherwise, however illogical. But now . . .”

  “Now?” she repeated when he hesitated.

  “There are too many things adding up here. So, I’m just going to come right out and ask.”

  Kyrah steeled herself, determined not to lie—but equally determined not to allow herself to go against what she felt she had to do.

  “Does the name Ritcherd Buchanan mean anything to you?”

  Kyrah glanced away quickly, unprepared for the way just hearing his name made her feel.

  “I thought so,” he said. When she didn’t respond he moved toward the door, adding tersely, “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.”

  “Wait!” she insisted and he turned toward her, his hand on the doorknob. “Whatever it is you’re assuming, Captain Garret, it is merely assumption. Don’t go throwing your assumptions around if you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Griffin, if that’s really your name. But I never go throwing anything around. And I have a whole lot more than assumption. I have intuition. I have a number of facts. And I have something right here,” he pressed a fist below his heart, “telling me all I need to know.”

  “And what exactly do you think you know?” she countered.

  Garret stepped toward her, and Kyrah resisted the urge to back away. She refused to be intimidated by any man, ever again. “I know your name is really Kyrah Payne, and I know that one Captain Ritcherd Buchanan is at this very moment tearing this town apart searching for you. I know that you are well aware that he is here, and you know where to find him. But you’re not doing it. Now, I don’t care what’s happened between the two of you, or how much has changed, he deserves to be told to his face where he stands. He deserves to hear from you that you’re done with him, and to at least know what’s happened.”

  Kyrah forced back her rising emotion and lifted her chin. “You’re absolutely right, Captain—for the most part. I used to be Kyrah Payne. But I’m married now, under circumstances that are too horrible to even speak of. Yes, I know Ritcherd is here and I know where to find him, but I’ve only known for a matter of hours. And yes, he deserves to be told where he stands, and to know what’s happened. But there is one point where you are wrong.” Her voice broke as she held up a clenched fist. “I am not done with him.” She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and swallowed her emotion. Forcing a steady voice, she went on. “My deepest hope, Captain, is that this will somehow be a beginning for me and Ritcherd. But I am currently in more of a mess than I ever dreamed possible when I was deported. And I have no idea how, or even if, it can be undone. I need time to think this through before I face him. I know this is difficult for him, but I just need a little time. Please, don’t tell him . . . not yet. I’m begging you.”

  Garret took another step toward her. She looked up into his eyes and marveled to see them more piercing than ever. In spite of their brief acquaintance, he was the most intense person she had ever known. His sincerity was evident when he said, “I have known many men in my life. I’ve killed a number of them in the name of freedom. I have trusted even fewer. But I have never known a man like Ritcherd Buchanan. I have seen him sweat blood over you. I have seen his heart bleed all over the floor—and this from a man who does not wear his heart on his sleeve. He has been crazy with grief and fear on your behalf. And you’re asking me not to tell him that I know where you are?” He shook his head while his eyes penetrated her more deeply. “You’re asking more than I can give.”

  He turned to leave, and Kyrah grabbed his arm. “Please, listen to me.” He glanced down at her hand where it held him tightly, but she didn’t let go. “You must understand that I had given up hope of ever seeing Ritcherd before I got back to England. I didn’t think I would have to confront this so soon.”

  Kyrah didn’t realize she was crying until the tears spilled down her face. “I am married, Captain. I was manipulated and deceived into this marriage, the same way I was manipulated and coerced onto the ship that brought me here against my will. Except that this time I agreed to it. I said I do to a man I loathe, knowing in my heart that Ritcherd was the only man I could ever love. Now, how do I explain to him—the man I pledged my life, heart, and soul to from my childhood; how do I tell him how I have willfully shattered everything we ever dreamed of sharing?” She tightened her grip on his arm and pressed the other hand over her belly. “And how do I tell him with this between us? I need time, Captain Garret.” Her voice lowered to an imperative whisper. “Please, just give me a few days. And then . . . if I don’t tell him, you can. Promise me.”

  Garret sighed. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again. “Very well,” he said. “Three days.”

  Kyrah grabbed hold of his other arm as well. “Promise me,” she repeated.

  “I promise you, Kyrah.”

  Kyrah nearly collapsed from relief. She hung her head as a sob erupted from her throat. She was surprised to feel his arms come around her, but she could hardly resist the comfort he offered as he urged her head to his shoulder.

  Overcome with his own emotion, Garret couldn’t resist the urge to just hold her and allow her to cry. He understood now why he’d been drawn to this woman. He also had to admit that he felt more than a little disappointment. Kyrah Payne was incredible! And in some small way, he’d fallen for her. He recalled now the way Ritcherd had described the sea, and how perfectly it had matched his own description. Could his grandfather’s little analogy have such verity? Seeing that he had fallen for the woman Ritcherd loved, he had to believe that it did. He could only hope there was at least one more woman out there who could inspire him the way she did.

  Kyrah held tightly to Captain Garret and cried without restraint, unwilling to admit how comforting and strong his embrace really was. She finally got hold of her senses enough to step back, wiping at her face with an embarrassed chuckle. “Forgive me,” she said. “It’s just that . . . I can’t tell you how much it means to me . . . to know . . .” Her voice cracked again. “To know that he came for me, that he didn’t give up. All that you said about . . . his heart bleeding and . . .” She chuckled again to avoid sobbing. “It stirs me so deeply, but at the same time . . . it makes it all the more difficult to face what’s come between us. If he’d given up on me, it would have been easier to tell him that . . . I’d given up on him.”

  “Listen to me, Kyrah,” he said, touching her chin with his finger, “the kind of love that you and Ritcherd share is capable of overcoming anything. The very fact that your paths have crossed this way is—in my humble opinion—bold evidence that you have what it takes to make it past this.”

  Kyrah furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  He laughed softly. “In matters of love and war, and everything in between, there are two great opposing forces in this world. The one will fight to keep anything good from coming to pass. It delights in misery and evil and oppression. But the other will always triumph when something good is at work; when good people reach out and ask diligently for His help, He will always reach out to give it.” Kyrah felt the implication sinking in, but it didn’t fully make sense until he added, “Just sit down and think about it, and you won’t
be able to deny that the hand of Providence is evident in bringing the two of you back together this way.” He touched her face and kissed her brow. “Everything will be all right. No matter what it will take to put your lives back together, the love you share will carry you through.”

  Garret saw fresh tears brim in her eyes, and he resisted the urge to be with her just a little longer. He moved toward the door and added, “Is there anything you need?”

  “No,” she said in little more than a whisper, “thank you.”

  “I’ll send someone for you when we’re preparing to sail. It won’t be long now. Don’t let them alarm you. My men look a lot scarier than they really are.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said. “And . . . perhaps I’ll see you before then.”

  Garret nodded and reached for the knob. “Is he well?” she asked, making him turn back again. “Beyond the . . .heart bleeding and all of that . . . is he well?”

  Garret nodded again. Then he smiled. “Not as well as he’ll be in three days.”

   
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