Tender Mercies - By Kitty Thomas Page 0,65
a moment and blinked at her. She didn’t know as much about the politics and culture of the island as she’d thought. She’d lumped all islanders together as if they were one cohesive unit, not bothering to consider that different groups might live in different ways. These people were clearly not integrated with the main island like the shop owners were.
She started to back away. Angry natives and a language barrier didn’t sound like a fun time. They advanced. Grace stumbled in the sand as she ran, and a moment later they surrounded her, talking fast and loud as before. She moved her hands defensively in front of her face. Without language, she had no means to talk herself out of the situation, nor did she know what might come next.
“Stop.”
The men looked up and Grace turned in the direction of the clearly spoken English. The man had no accent as a native islander would. He looked like a surfer. His sandy blond hair, streaked with lighter gold from the sun, fell in a sexy mop over his eyes. She couldn’t tell from just the torchlight if they were brown.
The surfer turned to the men and spoke in the island language, calmly and reasonably. The men looked back at her as if deep in thought, then back at the blond. Finally they spoke in what sounded like agreement and went back to the camp.
The man held out a hand to help her stand. “There’s a price on your head, you know. All runaway slaves fetch a high reward if returned to the officials. They were arguing over what they should do with you. I said we should bring you to camp and find out your story before we make any rash moves. I’m James.”
Words tumbled fast, before she could stop them and run back to the boat to form a Plan B. “I’m Grace. I belong to Asher Collins. He’s been arrested for the murder of his last slave. He helped me escape so they wouldn’t take me and said to come to you and give myself to you, that you’d keep me safe.”
She’d taken a chill in the night breeze and wrapped her arms around her frame to ward it off, wishing she were wearing something warmer. James stared at her for a long time, long enough she feared he’d turn his back on her and leave her there in the dark. Finally, he started back toward the settlement.
“Come,” he called quietly behind him.
She somehow made her feet move and followed him into the camp past several huts until he stopped at one and pulled back the heavy burlap that served as a door.
“Inside,” he said.
She went in, but when she turned around, he was gone again. A few moments later, he returned with two plates of wild boar that must have been roasted over open flame all day. The boar was surrounded by rice, a few vegetables native to the island, and several rings of fresh pineapple.
“Sit.”
She was confused by his sudden monosyllabic nature. He’d spoken in full sentences before she’d told him why she’d come. She sat on the rug and he gave her food. He put his plate on the ground and left again, returning with two cups of water.
She hesitated before she spoke, uncertain if he might punish her. But Asher said he’d keep her safe. That he was a friend. If her master trusted him, he must be okay. “Will you keep me?”
An endless stretch of silence hung between them, interrupted only by the sound of crude flatware scraping across plates. He ate several bites of the boar as if he hadn’t heard her, as if he were lost in his own private world where no sound could penetrate. What would happen if he didn’t want her?
As much as she couldn’t stand the thought of giving herself to someone else, the reality was that Asher was gone and someone would have her now. It was better to belong to the man he’d chosen than to Lucas. She had to keep that thought in the front of her mind. Anyone was better than Lucas.
She was trying to gather the courage to speak again when he looked up at her, his face unreadable.
“Yes.”
She let out a shaky breath and went back to her plate. He didn’t speak again, didn’t look at her, didn’t try to touch her. It was then that she noticed the pain that seemed to surround him like a death shroud. She wanted