Rapture's Tempest Read Online Free PDF

first.” Jim was serious and he drew the boy’s full attention. “Murphy—did you steal anything from those two men? I want the truth.”
    Standing straighter, her chin tilting in pride, Delight looked him in the eye. “No, sir. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”
    “You’ve got yourself a job. But Murphy…”
    “Yes, sir?”
    “If I ever find out that you’ve lied to me…” Jim threatened.
    Delight nodded nervously, all the while wondering what she’d gotten herself into.
    “Yes, sir. I understand,” Delight answered quickly when she realized that he was expecting a reply.
    “Good. You’ll be working for me on my steamer, the
Enterprise
. I’m Jim Westlake, the captain, and this is Oliver Fitzgerald, my first mate. We run from St. Louis to New Orleans when the river’s open, but right now we can only get a little south of Memphis.”
    “Yes, sir,” she replied.
    Delight was dumbfounded at the discovery that Jim Westlake was one of her rescuers, and she wondered if her life could possibly get any more complicated. Though she had nevermet him in person before, she was friends with Renee Westlake, and Renee had spoken often and proudly of her brother-in-law Jim, who captained a steamboat. Groaning inwardly, Delight braced herself for the arduous task ahead…keeping her identity concealed.
    “Well, let’s get on back to the boat and warm up,” Ollie encouraged.
    “Let’s go, Murphy.” Jim and Ollie led the way down the snow-trodden street.
    Delight found it remarkably easy to keep up with them in the snow without the cumbersome weight of her skirts and petticoats. Hurrying along behind, she concentrated on the rhythm of their manly gait and tried to imitate their purposeful strides. She knew that if she could successfully master their walk, she’d be able to fool anybody from a distance. But close up—well, she’d worry about that later, although she was sure her disguise was pretty effective, for neither man had given her more than a second glance.

Chapter Four
    The furious pounding on the door brought Rose upright in her bed, and, clutching her quilt about her, she ventured into the sitting room.
    “Open up, Rose,” Martin ordered arrogantly. “I know she’s in there.”
    “Martin? What do you want?”
    “I want to talk to you.”
    “Why?”
    “I’ll tell you as soon as you let me in.”
    “Just a minute,” she called out, stalling, not wanting to face him in her present state of undress.
    “Well, hurry it up or I’ll break the damn door down.”
    Lighting a lamp, she pulled on her dress and fastened it quickly, knowing full well that Martin could very easily force his way in. Girding herself, she went back to admit the hated man to her house.
    As soon as Rose had slid the bolt free, the door was slung violently open, crashing against the wall. Stepping into the room, his manner overbearing, he glanced around, searching for some sign of Delight. When he could find no trace of her, Martin directed his attention back to Rose, surveying her worn dress and work-reddened hands.
    Smirking at her obvious poverty and glad that she was suffering, Martin faced her squarely. “All right, Rose, where is she?”
    “Who?” Rose’s innocent answer did sound convincing, but Martin didn’t hesitate in his purpose.
    “There’s no point in playing games with me. We both know she came here and—”
    “Who came here?” Rose cut him off in agitation.
    “Delight,” Martin responded through gritted teeth, growing angrier by the minute.
    “Delight, here? No, Martin. I haven’t seen her,” she maintained steadily, not retreating from his obvious anger.
    “Don’t lie, Rose. She had nowhere else to go.”
    “Obviously, she did, because she didn’t come here.” Sensing his barely restrained violence, she countered, “Go ahead and search the place if you don’t believe me.”
    “I don’t believe you, Rose. And I think I
will
take a look around.” Stalking past her, he explored the