Windswept Read Free Page B

skirt, a blue crab who wiggled his appendages in a frantic effort to return to the sea. Jacob grinned as he held the crustacean in the air. “It appears that Nora came ashore with a stowaway in her stitching.”
    The judge sputtered and coughed. The woman in red hooted with laughter. Nora stared at the creature in awe. And the woman in Captain Murdock’s arms shrieked with horror.
    Jacob tossed the hapless crab in the water, wiped his hand on his pants and offered it to the judge. “The name’s Proctor, Your Honor.”
    Regaining his composure, the judge cut short the handshake, narrowed his eyes under bushy brows and said, “So you’re the infamous Captain Proctor.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    The man who had come to Nora’s rescue dropped his hand from her father’s and crossed his arms over his chest. He cocked his head at a slight angle and stared at Thurston Seabrook with cool slate-colored eyes. “I’m Jacob Proctor,” he said. “I didn’t know I had earned the title ‘infamous’.”
    “Oh, but Captain, you have,” Thurston replied. “Your reputation has spread all the way to our nation’s capitol.”
    “And to what do I owe this dubious honor?”
    “By virtue of claiming wrecking master rights to more wrecks than any other salvager on the island. By holding more auctions of goods and garnering higher percentages of profit than any other similar business in Key West.”
    “Since when is it a crime to make money, Your Honor?” Proctor spoke Thurston’s title as if the words were dripping in hemlock.
    “Making money isn’t a crime. The way you go about it may well be.”
    Proctor altered his stance just a little, and the result was a squaring off, as Nora imagined boxers do in a ring. “I would be careful about insinuations you make, Judge, especially as you’re a newcomer to the island…”
    “Thurston! Thurston, what are you doing over there? Come quickly, please.”
    Nora had been watching the two men, but her mother’s frantic cry drew her attention and thankfully had the effect of throwing cold water over the tension in the air.
    Her father turned away from Jacob Proctor. “What is it, Sidonia? You can see that Nora is quite all right.”
    “Yes, I know, thank heavens, but the boys, Thurston, the boys have run off. And in this strange place. They could be lost. My darlings could be lost.”
    Jacob Proctor finally uncrossed his arms, but their impression left his linen shirt front stuck against his chest. Nora’s gaze was drawn to the dark areas under the white fabric. A matting of wet hair lessened in thickness as it trailed to the waistband of his trousers. It was an inappropriate thought, Nora knew, but she marveled that his chest hair could be darker than the hair on his head. That was definitely a question for Fanny.    “Mrs. Seabrook,” he said, “your dogs aren’t lost.” He cocked his thumb toward a tavern on the corner. “See for yourself.”
    Two men approached. One of them carried Hubert, and the other Armand. The dogs were panting, and their fur was uncharacteristically mussed, but otherwise they appeared unharmed from their ordeal.
    Sidonia rushed to them, her arms open to receive her boys. “Oh, my babies,” she cried.
    Jacob introduced the men as they handed over their catch. “Mrs. Seabrook, this is Willy Turpin and Jimmy Teague.”
    Sidonia barely managed a glance at the two men as she cuddled her boys to her chest. “Thank you,” she muttered absently.
    Willy Turpin laughed out loud. “Those are some animals, ma’am,” he said. “You can’t hardly tell the rats from the rat catchers.”
    Sidonia’s head shot up and she leveled a brilliant glare at the smiling Willy. “How dare you call these dogs ‘rat catchers!’ I’ll have you know these are pedigreed French poodles.”
    Jimmy Teague rubbed his week's growth of stubble and chuckled through missing teeth. After poking Willy in the ribs to get his attention, he said, “Oh, I