Moonlight Rebel Read Online Free

glimmer.
    So this is it, she thought, leaning against the damp, splintered railing. This was "the promised land." This was America.
    She felt no joy.
    Instead, a pang of fear clawed at the pit of her stomach. America. Halfway around the world. Far from her world. Relief at no longer being buried alive in the damp, rotting little cabin began to slip away. How long would she have to stay on those shores before she could go home again? The question throbbed in her temples, hot and demanding.
    How long?
    A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped. Her father's patient smile cracked a hole in her dark mood. "It will seem strange for a while," he said, reading her thoughts in the expression on her face, "but we'll get used to it. Jan writes that the people here have strange ways, but they're warm and friendly."
    Krystyna nodded, not believing a word he said. The only warmth she'd known was back home. Here there would be nothing but isolation and desolation.
    She looked at her father's worn face. Biting the inside of her cheek, she forced a half-smile to her face. "We have each other and that's all that counts." She stepped away from the railing. "I'll get our things ready." She went back to their cabin for the last time.
    She would have thought that her heart would have been lighter on leaving the ship. She had dreamed of nothing else but land all these weeks at sea. But it was her own land she had thought of, not some hellish wilderness where manners meant nothing and the word savage could be applied to men of two colors. She lingered for a moment, looking around at the cabin. Small, with only two narrow bunks and a table that sat one, yet despite the constant dank smell of wet wood, it had been both her refuge and her prison. Here she had dwelled on her present condition. That had occupied all her thoughts. Anything would be better than this, she had thought. But it is human nature to forget the pain of the past. What was over was in part already forgotten. Instead of relief, she felt apprehension at what lay ahead, at what was to be.
    Her hands became still as she stopped folding the clothes into their solitary trunk, gold hidden in its bottom. She listened to the sounds of the men above. There had been little to do but listen and think during her journey. She had known the crew's routine by the noises that were generated, had recognized the distinct sounds of the ship. What she heard now were different sounds.
    They were landing.
    Endless miles away from everything she had ever known. Impulsively, she pulled her mother's sampler out of the depths of the trunk and tucked it inside her blouse. She needed to feel a piece of home next to her.
    She closed the lid and secured the straps that encircled the trunk. There was no hanging back now. She had to face reality. Whatever that was here. Krystyna squared her shoulders. It was time to get on with life. You have never been a coward, she reminded herself. This is not the time to start.
    Her father opened the door to the cabin. It startled her. She swung around, anxious. Stefan sensed her thoughts, felt her anguish. They were of the same blood. He knew she, too, was experiencing what he was feeling at this moment. He took her hand and silently squeezed it.
    Together they emerged on the deck. Shades of gray were swallowing the light as darkness approached. The sails flapped loosely in the near calm wind, and the sea, for once smooth, seemed like glass as the ship creaked its way into port.
    Krystyna felt the ship grind against the dock. They were here. But no laughter bubbled in her throat. She was afraid of what lay ahead. No matter what sort of a face she presented to the world, she was afraid.
    The captain came up behind them. When his presence went unnoticed, he cleared his throat. Getting the attention he desired, he delivered his statement in a voice that sounded like gravel hitting a stone wall. "Well, this is the end of your journey. You gave me no cause for complaint. If ever