Jade Star Read Free

pig,” Jules said.
    He laughed at that, but she saw that his eyes remained cold, as icy cold as the sleeting gray winter rains in Toronto, a place she could scarcely remember.
    â€œMy father will kill you.”
    â€œYour father? Now, that’s amusing, to be sure it is. Your father, my dear Juliana, is a prig, a weak prig who can do naught but try to change all the natives into prigs. Don’t you find it ridiculous that many ofthe natives that have succumbed to religion now dress like English and American gentlemen and ladies? It’s all too absurd, you know. But back to your precious father. Perhaps he and your family will mourn you. For they will believe you drowned, and you will no longer exist for them.”
    Jules closed her eyes, her captor’s inadvertent words careening through her mind. He’d lied about Kanola, of course. She was dead, drowned. If she weren’t, then everyone would know that Jules had been taken by a whaler.
    â€œWouldn’t you like to know what I am going to do with you, Juliana? Where I’m taking you?”
    She felt her stomach roiling, and slowly she turned her face away from him. Obviously he didn’t realize what he had admitted. “No,” she said dully, “I don’t want to know.”
    For the first time, Jameson felt a bit worried. The girl’s face was deathly pale. He rose slowly, but was wise enough not to approach her now.
    â€œYou will rest a bit, Juliana, then we will talk. I would suggest that you remain in this cabin. My men, as you can well imagine, are not always polite gentlemen.”
    He strode to the cabin door, looking over his shoulder at her before he left. She hadn’t moved. He frowned. Then he heard the soft, broken sound of her sobbing, and was relieved.
    Excellent, he thought as he left the cabin. She’s resilient. She would have to be. He had two weeks to bring her around before they arrived in San Francisco. He wondered, eyes lighting with greed, how much money she would bring him. Then he felt theburning pain in his belly. It came more frequently now, particularly if he were angry or upset, or filled with anticipation, as he was now. He walked from the cabin, kneading his belly and forcing his mind away from the biting pain.

2
San Francisco, California, 1854
    â€œCome on, now, Willie, I’m not cutting your arm off, for God’s sake! Stop your bellowing!”
    â€œIt hurts, Saint, bloody bad.”
    Saint stared down at the newly stitched gash on Limpin’ Willie’s arm. Good job, he congratulated himself. He picked up a bottle, saw Willie pale with fear, and began to talk. “Did I ever tell you about this stuff, Willie? No? Well, it’s called iodine, and it’s better than whiskey for what ails you. And cheaper. Yes, indeed, it was discovered way back in 1811 by a chap named Courtois, but there’s controversy even about that, of course.” Saint held Willie’s arm over a basin and poured the iodine on the wound. Willie yelped and struggled, but Saint had three times his strength and wasn’t about to ease his hold.
    Saint continued calmly holding Willie’s arm in an iron grip while he patted off the excess liquid. “Do you know what ‘iodine’ means, Willie? No? Well, part of it comes from the Greek word ion and it means ‘violet.’ Just look at your arm, as violet as can be. Now, you’ve come out of this not only patched up but educated as well.”
    Limpin’ Willie had got his breath and bearingsback. He stared down at his purple arm. “Violet, huh, Saint?”
    â€œThe ladies will think you look like a bloomin’ flower, Willie.”
    Limpin’ Willie gave him a crooked grin, showing the inside of a mouth that contained only half its complement of teeth. “It still hurts like hell, Saint, but I’ll live. Thanks, I owe you one.”
    â€œActually, you owe me five. Dollars, that is. The rest,