Galveston Island, Texas, 1891
HE STOOD WAIST DEEP in water, shirtless, broad of shoulder
and corded with muscle, his deeply tanned skin glistening
beneath the winter sunshine. His dark hair was sun
bleached and shaggy, and hung over his face as he gazed
down at the object he carefully washed in sea water.
"Is that him?" Kat McBride asked her brother-in-law, Luke
Garrett. "Is that Jake Kimball?"
"I think so. Most of our dealings were with his father. I
only met him in person once, and at the time he was knee-
deep in women and drowning in alcohol." Scowling, Luke
added, "He looked different then. He had clothes on."
Seated beside Luke in the carriage, Kat's flamboyant
grandmother, renowned sculptress Monique Day, glanced over
her shoulder and winked at Kat and her sister,
Mari. "Aren't we the lucky ones?"
Kat didn't care if the man was naked or clothed or wearing
a dress, she intended to have a chat with Mr. Jake
Kimball. The newspaper might call him an adventurer, a
treasure hunter or an explorer, but she knew better. Jake
Kimball was a scalawag and a thief.
But he was also the man who would make things right for
the fatherless child Kat carried in her womb.
Kat wrapped her woolen shawl securely around her
shoulders, climbed down from the carriage, and stepped to
the edge of the grass-covered dune. "Mr. Kimball?" she
called. "Mr. Jake Kimball?"
The man looked up, and Kat caught her breath. Kimball's
scruffy beard didn't hide the rugged, masculine beauty of
his sharp jaw, thin straight nose and eyes as blue and
hard as the sapphire necklace hanging around Mari's neck.
Something stirred inside of Kat when his gaze met hers,
and she felt a flutter of awareness unlike any she'd known
before. Different, even, from anything she'd felt with
Rory when he'd drawn her under his spell. She clutched her
shawl closer.
"Well, now." Monique clucked her tongue as she linked her
arm with Luke's. "Isn't he a fine specimen? Reminds me of
the model I used for the bronze Apollo Mrs. Astor bought
for her Manhattan home."
Kat thought he looked more like a pirate than a Greek god,
especially with the gold hoop earring dangling from one
ear and a jeweled knife in his hand.
"Yeah?" His mouth lifted in a slow smile as he studied her
face. "I'm Kimball."
Then his gaze slipped lower, locked on Kat's belly. He
frowned, and a hint of alarm entered his eyes. His gaze
flew back to her face, and he examined her features again.
The alarm faded.
No, I am not a ruined lover come to seek the father of my
babe. From his reaction, Kat suspected he'd experienced
such a scene in the past. No wonder he did business with
Rory. The two men were just alike.
"What can I do for you?" he asked as Luke stepped up
beside her.
You could put a shirt on. Kat was annoyed that she found
the man appealing. He was a means to an end for her,
that's all. She'd had her fill of scoundrels.
She placed a protective hand upon her swollen stomach as
Luke shot her a quick, curious glance, then took the
lead. "I'm Luke Garrett, Kimball. My stepfather, Brian
Callahan, worked for your father. You and I met once at
his home in New York. May my family and I have a few
moments of your time?"
"Yes, I remember you. I'll be right out."
Kimball sloshed toward them, and despite her best
intentions, Kat couldn't drag her gaze away from the slow
revelation of tanned, toned skin rising from the water.
The man obviously spent a good deal of time outdoors
without his shirt. The wet, dark hair on his chest lay
flat against his skin and arrowed down his flat stomach to
his navel and —
Kat gave herself a mental shake. Her mother had warned her
that a pregnant woman's emotions ran the gamut, but Kat
never expected to find herself staring at a man's
washboard stomach and wondering how it might feel beneath
her fingertips. This isn't good.
Luke stepped in front of Kat, blocking her view. "Perhaps
you could join us at our buggy once you're, uh, decent?"
"He looks rather decent to me," Monique observed, she and
Mari having joined Luke and Kat on the dune.
Luke muttered beneath his breath as he herded the women
back to the carriage. Kat picked up words like "scoundrel"
and "thieving bounder" and "home knitting booties." At the
last, Mari glanced at Kat and rolled her eyes. Baby
booties recently had become a rallying cry for the men in
her family. Three days ago, after reading an article in
the Fort Worth Daily Democrat about Jake Kimball and his
discovery of a cache of treasures attributed to the pirate
Jean Laffite, Kat proposed this trip to Galveston. Her
father, Trace McBride, suggested she stay home and knit
baby booties instead. Then he compounded the mistake by
suggesting the rest of the females in the family join her.
Needless to say, the suggestion didn't go over well with
the McBride women. Though the females in the family
understood that Trace equated knitting with safety, Kat,
her sisters, her mother and grandmother dealt with the
issue by rolling their eyes, wrinkling their noses and
going about their business.
In Kat's case, her business was planning the trip to
Galveston to confront Jake Kimball. Her father argued
against her going, but she presented her point just as
strongly. Then, because Trace McBride had been unable to
refuse her much of anything since she'd returned to a
family who for months had mistakenly believed her dead,
he'd given in. Mari volunteered to accompany Kat, naming
her husband's history with Kimball and the opportunity to
visit his sister who lived in Galveston as justification
to make the trip. Monique tagged along because she claimed
to be suffering a case of ennui and yearned for the scent
of salt air. "So here we are," Kat said softly as the babe
in her womb gave her a kick. Kat didn't care that the
newspapers called Jake Kimball a courageous explorer, a
brave adventurer. To her he was nothing more than a
criminal.
A criminal who even now climbed the sand dune while
buttoning a blue cotton shirt. Kat's eyes widened at the
sight of his dripping denim pants cut off above the knees.
He was barefoot.
"Luke Garrett." Kimball's mouth quirked in a crooked
smile. "I wondered if I might run across you or your
brothers during my time here in Texas. How are Rory and
Finn?"
"Dead."
Kat didn't believe Kimball's expression of surprise, and
she stepped into the fray by announcing, "I married Rory
Callahan, Mr. Kimball." It was true enough, in spirit if
not in fact.
The pirate arched a brow. "You've made quite a discovery
here on Galveston Island, sir, and I believe it's fair to
say that wouldn't have happened if not for Rory."
Kimball's gaze swept her from head to toe, pausing again
briefly upon the bulge of her seven-month-gone belly.
Sympathy colored his tone as he said, "I employ many
individuals in the course of my pursuits, Mrs. Callahan. I
pay them well for their assistance, extremely well,
whether their help results in a find or not. I do not
offer shares in the discovery, ma'am, so if that is what
you seek, I am afraid —"
"I want the altar cross."
His gaze shifted from her to Luke, then back to her. The
slight narrowing of his eyes told her he knew very well
what she meant. "The altar cross?"
Kat lifted her chin. "The Sacred Heart Cross that was lost
almost a hundred years ago when pirates attacked the
Spanish ship bringing it to America. It is solid gold and
encrusted with jewels, including a heart-shaped ruby at
its center. You stole it from Rory Callahan. I want it
back."
He studied her, taking her measure. His gaze once again
slid to her swollen womb, and pity softened his eyes. "I'm
sorry, ma'am, but I did not steal the cross from your
husband. Rory sold the piece to me for a substantial
amount of money."
Eyeing the sincerity in Jake Kimball's expression, Kat's
stomach did a slow somersault. Had Rory lied about that,
too? Lied as he lay dying? As Mari reached over and took
her hand, Kat went hard and brittle inside. Had Rory
Callahan been totally without redemption?
No. No. No. He'd saved Mari, hadn't he? In the end he'd
done what was right. In the end he'd tried to provide for
Kat and their child.
"I don't believe you." When the pirate simply shrugged,
Kat continued, "He told my sister that the altar cross was
our child's inheritance. He said it as he was dying. Not
even Rory would lie at a time like that."
"Maybe he referred to the money I paid him," Kimball
suggested. "The account is in a New York bank. As his
widow, you must have records of it. Perhaps the money is
still there."
"I'm not," she said softly. "His widow, that is. It turned
out our marriage wasn't legal."
"Oh." He glanced at a scowling Luke. "I see."
Kat closed her eyes against the pity in Jake Kimball's
gaze. She'd seen too much of that from her family in the
months since returning to Fort Worth. It made her feel
like a fool.
Of course, that's exactly what she was. She'd married the
King of Liars, hadn't she? A man already married, already
a father. If he'd lied about that, why wouldn't he lie
about the cross?
Luke placed his hand on her shoulder. "If the money is
there, Katrina, we'll get it for you. Rory would want your
child to have it."
"Perhaps I can help with that," Kimball said. "Let me
write to —"
"No." Kat shook her head. "No, I don't want money." She
wanted the cross. She had to have the cross. It was the
answer. It was the key to everything! It would fix the
trouble she'd caused, help wipe away the shame.
Kat straightened, her chin came up. "Very well, sir. I
will buy it back from you. I trust we can reach a fair
price. I won't begrudge you a profit over what you paid
Rory."
"I'm sorry, but the cross is not for sale." Frustration
rolled through her like a storm. "Everything is for sale,
Mr. Kimball."
"Not the Sacred Heart Cross."
Beneath her skirt, Kat's toes took to tapping. "Mr.
Kimball, I come from a family of business people so I
appreciate the fine art of negotiation. However, at this
particular moment I have neither the time nor the
inclination to dicker. Please, sir, name your price."
He folded his arms and shook his head. "Listen to me,
lady. The cross is not for sale, not under any
circumstances, for any price."
"Why not?"
Kimball looked toward Luke. "Your father worked for mine
for many years. Surely you recall my father's passion for
his quests?"
"Brian was my stepfather," Luke was quick to correct. Even
in her agitation, Kat noted how he always made the
distinction that her family hardly ever made with Jenny.
It illustrated one of her great worries for her child. Her
baby should have a stepfather who was simply a papa, just
like Jenny was a mama to the McBride girls.
That's one reason why it was so important for Kat to
succeed in securing the Sacred Heart Cross. She needed it
for her child, for the hope its restoration to its
rightful place could bring.
Kimball continued, "My father collected art, coins, toys
and even butterflies, but his special interest was
artifacts related to Texas. With your family's help, he
amassed quite a collection of Texana before he died. While
he continually added and deleted items from his other
collections, he never surrendered a single piece of
Texana. That is the way of collectors."