It was as close as Nathan was going to come to admitting the truth, Caine realized. He wondered then if his stubborn-headed brother-in-law knew he loved Sara.
"We'll find her, Nathan," he promised. "I think we should go back to the wharf first. Colin might have some news for us. One of the men might have spotted her."
Nathan grabbed at that thread of hope. He didn't say another word until he and Caine had reached their destination. His fear was tearing at his nerves. He couldn't seem to think straight.
It was sunset when they reached the waterfront. The streets were cast in orange shadows. Candles burned bright inside the Emerald Shipping office. As soon as Nathan and Caine walked inside Colin bounded to his feet so quickly that shooting pains radiated up his injured leg.
"Did anyone find Sara yet?" Caine asked his brother.
Colin nodded. "She found us," he said. His forehead was beaded with perspiration, and he was taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the pain. Neither Caine nor Nathan remarked upon his obvious distress, for they both knew their sympathy would only irritate the proud man.
Nathan waited until Colin lost some of his grimace, then asked, "What do you mean, she found us?"
"Sara came back here."
"Then where the hell is she now?" Caine asked.
"She demanded to be taken home. Jimbo and Matthew escorted her. Sara's back on board the Seahawk."
Caine's sigh of relief filled the room. "So she considers the Seahawk her home, does she?"
The tightness inside Nathan's chest began to loosen up. He was so relieved to know that Sara was safe, he literally broke out in a cold sweat. He snatched the linen handkerchief Colin had pulled from his vest pocket and wiped his brow. "It's the only home we've shared," Nathan muttered in a low, gruff voice.
"I guess that means Sara isn't holding a grudge," Caine said. He leaned against the edge of the desk and grinned at his brother. "Pity, that. I was really looking forward to watching Nathan practice."
"Practice what?" Colin asked.
"Getting down on his knees."
Chapter Fourteen
Nathan couldn't stand the idle chitchat long. He had to get to Sara. He needed to see for himself that she was all right. It was the only way he would be able to calm his racing heartbeat. He had to know she was safe.
Without a word of farewell he left Colin and Caine and rowed out to the Seahawk. He was surprised to find that most of the crew had already boarded. The men traditionally spent the first night back in port getting drunk enough to fight anything that moved.
A portion of the crew stood guard on the three decks while the others took up their positions in the wardroom area. Some of the men had strung their hammocks up between the hooks in the ceiling and slept with their knives on their chests for the sake of readiness.
The hammocks were used only in foul weather or when it was too cold to sleep on deck. It was warm that day-exceedingly so, as a matter of fact-and Nathan knew the men were there solely for protective purposes. They were watching over their mistress.
As soon as they spotted him they rolled from their swinging cots and filed up the steps.
The door to the cabin was unlatched. When Nathan went inside he spotted Sara at once. She was sound asleep in the center of his bed. She was holding his pillow against her chest. She'd left two candles burning in their glass globes on the desk, and the soft glow from the light played against the angles of her face like dancing shadows.
He'd have to have another talk with her about the worries of fire, he thought to himself. The woman was forever forgetting to douse the candle flame.
Nathan quietly shut the door, then leaned against it. He was so hungry for the sight of her, he stood there for a long while just watching her sleep until his panic finally dissipated and it didn't hurt so much to breathe.
Every now and again she let out a little hiccup, and Nathan realized she must have cried herself to sleep.
The sound made him feel as guilty as hell.
He couldn't imagine living his life without her by his side. God help him, he cared for her.
That acknowledgment wasn't nearly as painful as he'd imagined it would be. He didn't feel as though his soul had just been snatched away from him. Just as amazing as the admission itself, he hadn't been struck by lightning.
Caine had been right after all. He had been a fool. How could he have been so blind, so indifferent? Sara would never try to manipulate him. Sara was his partner, not his enemy. The thought of spending the rest of his life without getting to shout at her again was simply too monstrous to think about.
Her love gave him renewed strength. Together they could face any challenge, he knew, be it from the St. James camp or the Winchester den. As long as he had Sara by his side Nathan didn't think he could ever be defeated.
His thoughts moved on to ways he could please his wife. He was never going to raise his voice to her again. He'd start calling her by those ridiculous endearments he'd heard other men call their wives. Sara would probably like that.
He finally took his gaze away from her and looked around the room. There was clutter everywhere. Sara's dresses were hanging between his shirts on the hooks.
She'd made the cabin her home. Her possessions were everywhere. Her ivory brush and comb, along with a multitude of colored hairpins, littered his desktop. She'd washed out some of her feminine undergarments and had hung them up to dry on a rope she'd hooked from wall to wall across the room.
He had to dodge the damp clothing when he took his shirt off. He could think of nothing but finding the right words to use when he told her he was sorry. God, it was going to be difficult. He'd never apologized to anyone before, but he was determined not to muck it up.
He bent over to take off his boots and knocked the makeshift clothesline. One of Sara's silk chemises was jarred free. Nathan reached out to catch the garment before it fell to the floor and only then realized just what his wife had used for her rope.
"You used my whip for your clothesline?"
He really hadn't meant to shout. It had just caught him off guard. His bellow of outrage didn't wake her up, though. Sara muttered in her sleep, then flipped over on her stomach.
It only took him a minute to calm down. Then he was actually able to see the humor in the situation. He couldn't quite smile, but he wasn't grimacing any longer. Tomorrow, he decided, right after he talked to her about fire hazards, he'd mention his special attachment to his whip and ask her not to use it for such demeaning chores.
He stripped out of the rest of his clothes and stretched out next to Sara. She was exhausted from the heartache both he and her Winchester relatives had put her through. She needed her rest. She didn't even stir when he put his arm around her.
He didn't dare pull her close to him, knowing full well that as soon as she cuddled up against him he wouldn't be able to stop himself from making love to her.
His intentions were honorable. His frustration, however, soon became damned painful. Nathan considered it due penance for the agony he'd caused her. The only thought that got him through the long dark night was the promise he made to himself that as soon as morning arrived and Sara was awake he'd show her how much he cared for her.
Nathan didn't fall asleep until the sun was starting to rise. He awoke with a start several hours later, then rolled over to take his wife into his arms.
She wasn't there. Her clothes were gone, too. Nathan pulled on his pants and went up on deck to look for her.
He found Matthew first. "Where's Sara?" he demanded. "God, she isn't in the galley, is she?"
The seaman motioned toward the wharf. "Colin rowed out earlier with some papers for you to sign. Sara and Jimbo went back with him to the office."