the ointment as gently as he could and Rafe seemed to relax a little under the soothing salve.
“Do you want me to help you turn over again, Rafe?”
“Definitely yes this time. It’s a little harder going this direction. Just give me a hand. My back already feels much better but I want to see and rejoice in every step as we leave this godforsaken spot of hell.”
Jason took his good left hand and turned him again so he now lay on what must be excruciating and man-made injuries. Thanks to Damien he‘d brought plenty of ointment, which was waiting on the ship. He swallowed his sudden rage at the atrocities heaped on Rafe and turned to Captain Reeves.
“Will you take one end of the litter on your saddle and I’ll take the other? I think we’d best leave him on the litter they brought and not transfer him.”
“I’d be honored, sir.”
Together they suspended the African litter between their horses and began the journey to Beira at about half the speed they’d used to gallop in.
Jason worried about every jouncing step the horses took, even as they kept to a slow pace. About a half-hour along the road he looked down at Rafe’s sleeping face. Evidently Damien had used more than one magical ingredient in making his salve. Much relieved, Jason settled down for the wearisome trip to The Sea Gull.
Chapter Nine
Damien stared at the latest wireless message. It was all too easy to read between the lines of this one.
I have Rafe on ship. Will proceed home immediately. Ointment proving essential.
When the two girls asked him at dinner if he’d received any word he simply said yes, Rafe and Jason were in Beira and would soon be on their way home. Something about Damien’s silence kept them both quiet and he soon excused himself and went to his library. He simply could not talk to anyone tonight.
He shut his eyes and tried to summon a definite vision of Rafe but couldn’t do so. He should know better than try. His prophetic visions could never be commanded, only endured when they chose to appear. Sometimes they left him feeling as spineless as a dish of water, although not always. With his last vision some time ago he’d seen Rafe being marched away by two big Africans. Knowing the hatred of both blacks and whites he feared the worst. Trust Rafe to think as one man he could volunteer to help and solve an insoluble problem.
Damien sat at his desk, lowering his head in his hands. It was not like him to be morose but he seemed more powerless than he cared to be. Besides the problem of Rafe, Debora seemed to grow more listless every day. And Toria refused to meet his eyes. He’d known she’d found pleasure in his arms and perhaps he should have expected her to withdraw a little and into her fears again but still it hurt.
The feel of her soft skin and the heated kiss they’d shared haunted him like a hovering wraith, refusing to disappear and leave him in peace.
A knock suddenly sounded on this door. Damn, whatever household problem had arisen, why couldn’t Stephens deal with it?
He strode impatiently to the door and opened it to find Toria.
A delectable Toria, her hair cascading down her back. Wrapped in a voluminous robe but still enchanting. No garment made could diminish the beauty of her face.
She simply stood there, her enormous eyes probing his. His heartbeat quickened as he took her hands and drew her in.
He looked at her in wonder for a moment and then took her lightly in his arms.
“What can I do for you, love?”
His gaze fell for just a moment to her bare toes. Pretty pink toes, as enchanting as the rest of her. He loved graceful feet on women. He groaned. Her gorgeous hair always affected him. Did she have to expose her enticing toes? And dig them into the plush carpet as if in distress?
Toria came into the room, one step at a time. She seemed deep in worry about something. Now what bothered his gorgeous love?
“I couldn’t sleep, Damien. You were so unapproachable all day. As if I’d
“Do you want me to help you turn over again, Rafe?”
“Definitely yes this time. It’s a little harder going this direction. Just give me a hand. My back already feels much better but I want to see and rejoice in every step as we leave this godforsaken spot of hell.”
Jason took his good left hand and turned him again so he now lay on what must be excruciating and man-made injuries. Thanks to Damien he‘d brought plenty of ointment, which was waiting on the ship. He swallowed his sudden rage at the atrocities heaped on Rafe and turned to Captain Reeves.
“Will you take one end of the litter on your saddle and I’ll take the other? I think we’d best leave him on the litter they brought and not transfer him.”
“I’d be honored, sir.”
Together they suspended the African litter between their horses and began the journey to Beira at about half the speed they’d used to gallop in.
Jason worried about every jouncing step the horses took, even as they kept to a slow pace. About a half-hour along the road he looked down at Rafe’s sleeping face. Evidently Damien had used more than one magical ingredient in making his salve. Much relieved, Jason settled down for the wearisome trip to The Sea Gull.
Chapter Nine
Damien stared at the latest wireless message. It was all too easy to read between the lines of this one.
I have Rafe on ship. Will proceed home immediately. Ointment proving essential.
When the two girls asked him at dinner if he’d received any word he simply said yes, Rafe and Jason were in Beira and would soon be on their way home. Something about Damien’s silence kept them both quiet and he soon excused himself and went to his library. He simply could not talk to anyone tonight.
He shut his eyes and tried to summon a definite vision of Rafe but couldn’t do so. He should know better than try. His prophetic visions could never be commanded, only endured when they chose to appear. Sometimes they left him feeling as spineless as a dish of water, although not always. With his last vision some time ago he’d seen Rafe being marched away by two big Africans. Knowing the hatred of both blacks and whites he feared the worst. Trust Rafe to think as one man he could volunteer to help and solve an insoluble problem.
Damien sat at his desk, lowering his head in his hands. It was not like him to be morose but he seemed more powerless than he cared to be. Besides the problem of Rafe, Debora seemed to grow more listless every day. And Toria refused to meet his eyes. He’d known she’d found pleasure in his arms and perhaps he should have expected her to withdraw a little and into her fears again but still it hurt.
The feel of her soft skin and the heated kiss they’d shared haunted him like a hovering wraith, refusing to disappear and leave him in peace.
A knock suddenly sounded on this door. Damn, whatever household problem had arisen, why couldn’t Stephens deal with it?
He strode impatiently to the door and opened it to find Toria.
A delectable Toria, her hair cascading down her back. Wrapped in a voluminous robe but still enchanting. No garment made could diminish the beauty of her face.
She simply stood there, her enormous eyes probing his. His heartbeat quickened as he took her hands and drew her in.
He looked at her in wonder for a moment and then took her lightly in his arms.
“What can I do for you, love?”
His gaze fell for just a moment to her bare toes. Pretty pink toes, as enchanting as the rest of her. He loved graceful feet on women. He groaned. Her gorgeous hair always affected him. Did she have to expose her enticing toes? And dig them into the plush carpet as if in distress?
Toria came into the room, one step at a time. She seemed deep in worry about something. Now what bothered his gorgeous love?
“I couldn’t sleep, Damien. You were so unapproachable all day. As if I’d
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