Hunter held her close, drinking in the fragrance of her hair as she pressed against him like a frightened child. Never in his life had a woman so captured his very soul. He longed to take all the hurt from her, yet all he could do was vow to add no more pain to her life. Lightly he stroked her hair, mumbling inaudible words of comfort.
Finally the tears ceased and her breathing grew regular. "Thank you," she whispered. "I've never cried like this before. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he answered, almost drowning in a single tear that clung to her dark lashes. "I'm here whenever you need me. I'll see that no one ever hurts or frightens you again."
He clenched his teeth. Here he was swearing his allegiances to her like all the others. He didn't want to be her guardian. He wanted to be her lover, but her only touch was to push him away from her softly. He could see it in her eyes; she was not a child looking for protection. She was a woman with her own mind. He'd said the wrong thing again.
For an instant he resisted her leaving his arms. But he'd given his word and he wouldn't break it. Once he chose his course, Hunter stepped away quickly, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'll wait for you down the hall," he said.
With one swift movement Hunter vanished, leaving Perry brooding. She was sorry for having let him see her cry. Though he held her gently, he'd escaped at his first chance. "He probably thinks I'm a weak-kneed female," she mumbled as she dressed, deciding his obvious hurry to leave was a clear indication of his dislike for a whimpering women. "I'll not let him see such a display again," she swore as she opened her door and stepped into the small passageway.
The morning was spent in pleasant conversation as they watched the banks of the Delaware River drift by. Perry and Hunter were the only passengers aboard the small craft, manned by a crew of four. Hunter and the cook added a hand when needed.
He made no apology for his casual dress, and in truth Perry enjoyed watching him. Without a coat she could see his wide shoulders and the outline of his muscles as he moved. He was a far cry from the thin soldier she'd nursed months ago. His attire was much like the other men's aboard, white open-collared shirt and dark trousers, except his boots were highly polished black knee boots. He took to the rock of the ship like a seasoned sailor. Perry soon realized he was in command, with the captain gladly serving as first mate. As she watched the wind blowing his blond hair and pulling at his shirt, she thought he'd make a dashing picture of a pirate.
His voice came as low as the rumbling thunder along the far horizon. "My father often took me with him overseas. Cap was younger then, and always served as captain on my father's ships."
"Where is your father now?" She wanted to hear his voice, but suddenly there was a sadness in his tone.
"Since my mother died, he spends most of his time in England. The war was hard for him to understand. He still chooses to live abroad. I haven't seen him in years."
After a long silence Perry moved the conversation to calmer waters. "Why didn't Abram come with you?"
He looked relieved that she'd changed the subject. She remembered Abram saying Hunter had lived alone when he'd first met him. It seemed to her that when Hunter's mother died, his father abandoned him. He could not have been out of his teens at the time.
Hunter interrupted her thoughts. "Abram hates the sea. He never took to the water. Spends most of his time leaning over the rail losing his last meal. I sent him overland with the Northern Star packed in a wagon behind him. He should arrive a few days after we do. To tell the truth, I don't think he likes going up in the balloon with me much, only he thinks I'd kill myself if I went alone."
The sleek little ship moved out into the Delaware Bay as night fell. Hunter and Perry enjoyed a relaxing dinner in the small dining area off the galley. She found the food simple but well prepared. They both laughed as she related her departure from Molly's Place.
"I looked very much the fat little lady of the evening." Perry's laughter filled the room like music.
"How could anyone think you such?" Hunter teased, loving the way she smiled.
"You once did," Perry answered. It seemed hard to believe that only a few nights ago Hunter had thought her to be Molly.
Hunter's face grew serious. "I'll try never to misjudge you again." His eyes looked deeply into her own. "You're a puzzle to me, but I'm learning." He leaned back in his chair. "I've enjoyed today." His voice was suddenly lower as he gazed at her.
Perry glanced around nervously. If she looked back at him, she'd fall into those gray eyes. He might discover how deeply she wanted the passion he offered. But she wanted his love also, and it never seemed a part of the offering he was willing to give.
Hunter was half drunk on her beauty. The more he talked with her, the more lovely she became. He loved hearing her soft, gentle Southern accent. When she'd climbed the stairs, her slender waist and rounded hips disturbed him greatly. He enjoyed watching her face change expression, for her moods were as varied as the seasons, with each lavished in its own beauty. Her moody pout when she felt challenged contrasted with her free, sunny laughter. Her stormy anger flashed hot and proud, yet when she was teased, her cheeks reddened in a spring blush.
As the evening grew late Hunter was reluctant to leave her side. He kept her talking and laughing in the narrow corridor for as long as he dared.
"I wish this day would never end. I've enjoyed your company immensely," he whispered as he moved closer, due to the cramped surroundings.
"I've enjoyed the day also," Perry answered, suddenly nervous at his nearness.
Hunter moved away. He didn't need to be reminded of his promise. It had haunted him all day, stopping every advance. He now lifted her hand to his lips. "Sleep well," he said softly as he pressed his lips to her small hand. For a moment he moved her fingers slowly past his half-open mouth to his cheek.
"Good night," Perry whispered breathlessly. She moved inside her small cabin and closed the door. Her cheeks burned and her hands shook slightly as she took a deep breath to calm herself. She wanted him to hold her and make love to her. Yet she couldn't give herself lightly. She had to know of his love, for without it she was no better than the whores she'd seen during the war. She had to know he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. For Perry knew, no matter how long she lived, that she would love him even if she never voiced her feelings.
Hours later Perry awoke to a violent tossing of her bed. She jumped from her covers in fright before realizing the entire room was rolling back and forth. Holding on to the bunk's frame, she moved around the bed to gather her cape. She couldn't stay here in the darkness like a frightened child. She had to see what was happening. If the ship was in danger, she must know. After several tries she tied her cape. Opening the door, she moved into the passageway on bare feet. The pitching slammed her from side to side as she fought her way to the stairs. The wind lent assistance when she pushed the hatch open. Then the storm's breath tried to rip the wood from her hands as Perry crawled out onto the deck, using all her strength to close the opening.
She ran the few steps to the railing and watched the fierce drama before her. Huge waves rolled high, breaking in the wind, as if challenging the sky. The moody atmosphere responded with thin, bent fingers of lightning and a rolling, brooding thunder. Nature's battle raged, unmindful of the tiny ship in its midst. Mighty fists of waves hammered against the hull as water spilled over the deck. The sky, not to be outdone, pushed black clouds almost within reach of the boat, then dumped sheets of rain in a sporadic mixture with icy wind.
Perry clenched the railing with both hands frozen. She didn't dare let go to return below deck. The wind might catch her cape and send her sailing into the angry ocean. Her feet were numb and the spray had quickly soaked her cape and gown. The water splashing on deck seemed to pull at her feet. Horror filled her as she felt herself shake with cold. What if I can't hold on?