Free Love's Rescue by Christine Johnson

conclusion.
    Something valuable was on that vessel.

    The idea that someone might have tampered with their trunks bothered Elizabeth. Who and why? It made no sense. Other than Aunt Virginia’s pearls, they carried nothing of value. More than once she almost blurted out what Tom had shared, but Aunt would blame Rourke. He would never steal. Never. If he locked Aunt’s trunks, he’d done so at her bidding. She must have given Rourke the key when he rescued her. It was the only explanation.
    While considering the possibilities, Elizabeth watched Tom whittle what appeared to be a child’s whistle. He stood at the starboard rail with the uninhabited islands, called keys, passing by in the distance. Other than a large gap midway, the keys followed one upon another like a string of pearls.
    Perhaps she ought to ask Aunt to check her trunk for the pearls, but that would entail getting permission to enter the captain’s cabin. Moreover, Aunt had drifted off to sleep and was snoring softly. Anabelle had moved to the stern soon after departure, where she gazed at the ship’s wake and the disaster they’d left behind.
    After ensuring her aunt was comfortable, Elizabeth joined Tom. Perhaps he could calm her fears over the matter of the trunks.
    “Everything all right, Miss Benjamin?”
    This was her chance to ask the question. “You said my aunt’s trunks were already locked. Do you know who locked them?”
    “No,” he said slowly. “Should I? Is there a problem?”
    Embarrassed, she focused on his whittling. “Are you making that for a nephew?”
    He cast the wood shavings into the sea and pocketed both knife and whistle. “Little brother.”
    “Do you miss him?”
    Tom shrugged. “Sometimes.”
    “You could go back.”
    “Not yet. Need to earn enough for passage.”
    That embarrassed her even more. She seldom thought about finances. Every shop in Key West had extended her credit. Even in Charleston, Aunt Virginia spared no expense. Elizabeth must appear wealthy to Tom, who wore patched trousers.
    “This wreck ought to help,” she offered.
    “I’m not helping with the salvage. I won’t earn a share.”
    “That doesn’t matter. Captain O’Malley rewards each man equally, regardless of his task.”
    “He does?” Tom brightened. “I’ve only been on the Windsprite a month. How do you know the captain?”
    “I knew him when I was much younger, before I went to Charleston.”
    “I see.” He began whittling again.
    Elizabeth wouldn’t let this opportunity to learn about Rourke slip away, so she turned the conversation to a more personal topic. “Did you leave a sweetheart back home?”
    Tom laughed. “I was only sixteen then. Signed on to a Yankee clipper and traveled up and down the seaboard a couple years before ending up here. Haven’t been ashore more than a day or two between ships. That’s not much time to court a lady.”
    “I suppose not. Does Captain O’Malley ever talk about a sweetheart?” Her cheeks instantly heated, so she looked forward.
    Tom didn’t seem to notice. “He doesn’t much talk about himself.”
    “That sounds like him.”
    “That it does. Always thinking of others first.”
    A lump caught in her throat. Wasn’t that the way Rourke had always been? In all those years of teasing, he’d never spoken about difficulties or his family on Harbour Island. He’d let her rattle on about every silly thing. She knew he had parents and seven younger siblings, but he’d always directed the conversation to her dream of sailing the high seas. Though he pointed out the less savory aspects of the occupation, he hadn’t attempted to dissuade her. If anything, he encouraged her silly ideas. But he’d still treated her like a child until the day of the storm, when he looked into her eyes as if for the first time.
    “Are you all right, miss?”
    “Yes. Oh yes.” She again looked forward and spotted a white tower gleaming in the distance. “Is that the lighthouse?”
    “Key West