forming on his lips, even as his mind revolted at his intent.
On the threshold, some inner sense made the hair on his neck seem to prickle, and he checked his stride. He stood before the closed door, his hand on the knob. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then, throwing caution to the wind, he flung open the door.
The words died on his tongue. He could not stem his swift intake of breath.
His eyes skirted the tiny compartment. Boxes and trunks seemed to take up every available inch of space. A pale-faced woman, dressed in an unbecoming shade of brown, sat on a battered trunk and nursed an infant. On her head was a narrow-brimmed bonnet trimmed with feathers. But the crown of the bonnet was crushed out of shape, and the feathers were limp.
A stooped, rawboned man of medium build, whose cheeks bore the scars of a childhood bout with smallpox, stood beside her. Two scruffy children sat on the floor at their feet, playing with some jackstraws.
Caitlin knelt beside them, her skirts bunched in a wild rumple about her. Samuel was so dumbfounded, all he could do was stand in the doorway and stare at his wife stupidly.
“Oh, Samuel.” Her head came up. She swallowed and lifted her eyes to his. He could see her cheeks were flushed. “This is Eliza Freeman, her husband Tom, and their children. They traveled with me on the Angelica.”
There was a depth of emotion in Samuel that he couldn’t touch, dared not feel. Right now, what he wanted most was to be alone with Caitlin. He wanted her. That much his body was telling him.
He tensed all of his muscles, got his breathing firmly under control, and ducked his head as he stepped inside. He carefully negotiated his way round the children, and held out his hand.
“Evening, Freeman,” he said, with a slight questioning tilt of his head. But the rough, pockmarked countenance regarded him with an odd expression, as though the fellow were gathering his courage.
Tom Freeman smiled respectfully and took his hand, but said nothing, as if he were not brave enough to speak. Caitlin looked uncomfortable, suddenly. Now Samuel wondered what she had done—if she had done anything.
Samuel suddenly went cold all over. He was not going to ask. He didn’t want to hear what this family and all their baggage were doing in his cabin.
Caitlin sprang to life. She rose to pace the room, circling the children with quick, nervous steps. She stood before him, half defiant, half afraid, and thoroughly desirable. Desire started a slow coil in his gut.
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