A Light For My Love by Alexis Harrington

with
and had believed to be her friends began to leave her out of their
plans and lives when word got around that the Captain had died
broke. At first, she was bewildered, then devastated. Popular as a
girl, she was astonished to discover how shallow those
relationships were. She felt betrayed and retreated into what
remained of her family, Aunt Gert and Ryan.
    After that, any chance for China to marry was
lost. Now she was caught between two lives: the privileged,
comfortable existence she'd once known, and this one of pinching
pennies and stalling creditors. All she had left was this house,
and her pride.
    That wasn't so bad, she supposed,
except—except, oh, sometimes she craved the intimacy of spirit she
had imagined marriage brought. Now and then she wished there was
someone with whom she could close her door and shut out
responsibility and the rest of the world. A companion to talk with,
a shoulder to rest her head on when she was tired, a hand to hold.
Someone to care for rather than to take care of. To answer the odd
quickening she sometimes felt pulsing through her body.
    She usually tried not to dwell on what she
didn't have, and most often succeeded. Then last night Jake had
asked why she wasn't married. Given the circumstances, it was
enough that they still had a decent roof over their heads and food
to eat. She couldn't afford to wish that her heart be satisfied as
well.
    China was jerked from her gray thoughts by
two short knocks on the door. She flew to answer it, responding
first with two more short knocks, then opened the door.
    "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long,"
Dalton said, his expression grim. He strode in, bringing the dean
scent of rain with him. After one last quick look outside, he
closed the door behind him.
    Even though she had known him for two years,
a tremor of awe rushed through China. When Dalton Williams walked
into a room, the air sizzled with a dynamic force. He was not a
physically imposing man, nor was he typically attractive. His face
reflected his modest background, far more so than did Jake's, China
thought. Of medium build, he presented no illusion of strength. He
walked with a marked rolling gait that bespoke twenty years spent
at sea—over half his life. But his appearance was deceptive; she'd
seen him carry unconscious men into this room, a few of whom had
outweighed him by a third. And he radiated a fierce intensity that
burned like hellfire in his sharp cobalt eyes. In front of an
audience, he was a fiery and surprisingly eloquent speaker. It gave
him a charismatic aura of power that alternately drew people to
listen and made them back away in fear. It was his profound,
single-minded dedication to the abolishment of shanghaiing that had
won China's respect and her loyalty to his cause.
    He sprawled in the chair she had recently
occupied and rubbed his face with his hands, then pushed his brown
hair off his forehead. She could see something was wrong. "I almost
had someone to bring with me, but I wasn't fast enough. I guess
another farm boy is going to see the world after all." Defeat hung
around him like a nimbus.
    "What happened?" she asked quietly, taking
the other chair.
    He sat forward and put his elbows on his
knees. "I was in the Salty Dog and I saw the bartender put the
drops in a beer." Knockout drops were one of the common methods of
dispatching a man to a waiting ship. "It was crowded in there, and
the light wasn't too good. I tried to keep track of that beer mug,
but it ended up on a tray with a lot of others, and I couldn't tell
who got it. I kept walking around the saloon. I could only hope to
be nearby when the poor bast— uh, pour soul passed out. In a few
minutes, there was a commotion in the corner and a big husky
plowboy went crashing over a table. Like a broken mainmast, he went
down. I was on the far side of the place, and he was hustled off to
the back room by two crimpers before I could get to him." He
straightened and shook his head.