“The oars blistered my hands,” she said. “Are they hurting yours?”
He shook his head. “I have a little more experience rowing than you do.”
“I used to row Charlie’s skiff.”
“That was Charlie’s boat? I always thought it was yours.”
“Father gave it to him, but he was scared to use it because he couldn’t swim.”
“How did you learn? I always figured Charlie showed you.”
She grinned. “I watched you and learned how.”
“Don’t let your father hear about that. It’ll be another strike against me.”
“I promise.” She inched toward him a little. “You looked a million miles away just then, like you were riding on the stars.”
He smiled at the image she painted. Elizabeth was like a freshening breeze, promising a fine adventure ahead. “I was thinking that I needed to get a message back to Tom.”
“I’ll do it.” She leaned toward him. “And I’ll be discreet.”
“I know you will, but it would be better if you sent Anabelle. People might already be talking about you showing up at the boardinghouse.”
“No one saw me. It was after dark, and Tom happened to be on the veranda.”
“How fortunate, but you can’t rely on that happening again. No one will think twice of a servant bringing a message. You may write it in a note if you wish.”
The moonlight shimmered off her wide, eager eyes. “Tell me what you want me to write.”
Rourke stopped rowing. Better he say this where he could see that no one was around to hear. “Tell him to proceed if the wind is favorable.”
“And if it’s not?”
“The first day it is.” Tom had the experience to understand that message, but Rourke hoped it never got that far. Would Anabelle know a fair wind from a foul one? The voyage to Charleston and back ought to have taught her that much. If not, she would at least get the note to Tom. “And make sure he knows that he is to get everyone ready.”
“Everyone? You have more crew in town?”
He hadn’t anticipated that reaction. “One or two more.” If he counted Anabelle as crew.
“All right. Let me repeat the message. Proceed if the wind is favorable. If not, wait until it is, and get the crew ready.”
“Close enough.” Tom would know what to do with that. “Also make sure he gets it tomorrow. All right?”
“I will,” she promised.
Rourke resumed rowing, this time at a steady pace. “Keep quiet now. We’re approaching the island.”
She nodded and slid forward to the bow. With her right hand, she grasped the painter, ready to leap ashore and tie off. With her left, she held the gunwale. Elizabeth Benjamin knew boats.
He chuckled inwardly at the memory of her misstep years ago that had landed her in the water instead of on the Windsprite’s deck. She had popped to the surface like a drowned rat, sputtering mad and saying he’d pushed the skiff away at the last minute. She’d been even angrier that he had the audacity to laugh. He had adored her like a kid sister then, but the years flew past, and she’d become a young woman. Still impulsive and adventurous, but very much a woman. His affection for her had blossomed into romance. Then she left. Those years in Charleston had shrouded her finer qualities so thoroughly that he hadn’t spotted them until tonight. The night he had to say goodbye.
As Rourke lifted the oars and let the boat drift ashore on the island of Key West, he wondered how he would endure the separation. A year might as well be forever if Benjamin announced Elizabeth’s engagement to Finch.
She tied the painter to an overhanging mangrove with a triple half hitch and hopped ashore before he had a chance to assist her. Then she stuck out her hand to assist him. That was the Elizabeth he loved. That was the one he would miss.
They walked in silence past the salt ponds, quiet at this hour. The salt-growing process had begun for the year, and the ponds were flooded. Paths ran between the rectangular ponds, which were sealed off with gates. He chose the path next to the mangroves. Something rustled in the underbrush.
She squeezed his arm. “Don’t leave me.”
“Is this the same woman who earlier tonight ran through this very spot alone?”
“I didn’t think I’d have to go back.”
The sorrow in her voice brought a lump to his throat. “I’ll stay with you until we reach the cemetery. You should be able to get home safely from there.”
She didn’t say anything, though she clung close to his side. How perfectly she fit, as if she had always belonged there. Rourke placed an arm around her waist. When they crossed the first street, he breathed out in relief. Soon she would be safe.
At the cemetery, she slowed and halted. “I don’t want to let you go.”
Rourke couldn’t answer at first. He didn’t want to leave her either, but he must, preferably without sending her into tears. He held her hands. “I’m relying on you to complete your mission.”