Jo Goodman Read Online Free Page A

been assured her eyes would remain violet. Not that it was a matter of great importance to her. She only had to look out of her eyes, not into them. For that she was grateful.
    Jonna raised one arm to shield them now. Behind the fog the sun was burning brightly. The light was diffused throughout the gray mist, the effect almost blinding. She waited for the sun to break through. She was selfish enough to want the sighting of her flagship to be unfettered by the low-lying clouds.
    Soon, she thought, let it be soon.
    * * *
    Huntress rolled through a bank of fog and into a clearing. She rode the crest of each wave smoothly as the wind swelled her sails. Like an albatross with great white wings spread, Huntress seemed to take flight just above the surface of the water, moving forward in defiance of the laws of nature that commanded friction and gravity. Her swift progress brought a rush of pride to the men who labored in her yardarms and on her decks.
    "Land Ho!"
    It was the cry they had all been waiting for. Twenty pairs of eyes, all of them unaided by a telescope, strained to see what the one man with a spyglass could. It was two long minutes before they saw the same New England shoreline. The cheer that went up was deafening, and in that moment the swell of voices seemed to add substance to the burgeoning sails.
    The spyglass was passed to Decker, but he handed it to Jack before he looked himself. He ran a hand through his dark, wind-ruffled hair. His mouth was set in a quirky, yet somehow rueful grin. "Tell me if you can see her," he told Jack.
    Jack Quincy raised the telescope. He knew Decker wasn't talking about the coastline in general. His reference, in spite of its lack of specificity, was to Jonna Remington. The older man gave a bark of laughter as he pressed the 'scope to his eye. Another chuckle rumbled in his barrel chest. "You're not afraid of her, are you?" he asked.
    "Down to my toes," Decker admitted easily. His loose and relaxed posture didn't change, and there was nothing about his quietly amused expression to suggest he was telling the truth.
    Jack dropped the spyglass a fraction, looked sharply at Decker, then raised it again. "Damn liar," he said. "Had me going there, just for a moment, mind you. Can't imagine why anyone would be afraid of Jonna. Just the same, I know it's true. She just doesn't warm up to people the way she did when she was a young'un. I never figured out whether she puts them off or t'other way around."
    Decker didn't comment. He had his own thoughts on the matter, and he was determined they would remain just that—his own.
    "She'll be as mad as my great-aunt Lottie," Jack said.
    "Mad crazy?" asked Decker. "Or mad angry?"
    "Lottie was both." Jack looked up, interested as Decker groaned softly. "Didn't I ever tell you about her?"
    Decker took the spyglass. "No. And I'm not listening to one of your tales now."
    Unperturbed, Jack went on. "Lottie would raise her fist at the sun if it got too hot to suit her, then strip down to her skin to get the better of it."
    Decker raised a single dark brow and spared Jack a sideways glance.
    Jack Quincy leaned his large frame on one crutch and crossed himself awkwardly. "I swear."
    Raising the telescope, Decker said dryly, "No chance of that happening here." He had never seen Jonna Remington truly angry. He had seen her frustrated and flustered, aggravated and annoyed, but she invariably had some brake on her emotions that kept her anger in check. When he thought of it, he imagined she was more likely to go cold than hot. As for tearing off her clothes... he didn't think in that direction at all. The owner of the Remington line probably bathed in her shift.
    Through the spyglass the coastline was rising in sharp relief on the horizon. Decker knew that with the last dregs of fog burned off by the sun Huntress's sails would reflect light like mirrors. If Jonna was waiting for them she would be sighting them soon.
    * * *
    Jonna raised herself on tiptoe.