Free Sea of Christmas Miracles by Christine Dorsey Page A

could
feel the tension through the walls with their elaborate carvings
and pillars. Then the governor spoke. “I know relations between the
Cherokee and English are strained. But it is nothing that can’t be
repaired.” There was a pause. “Perhaps if trade resumed.”
    Raff’s voice interrupted, low, barely audible
in the anteroom. “Trade? You but remind me of how unscrupulous
English traders can be.”
    Caroline strained, as, she noticed, did the
assistant, but she couldn’t understand the governor’s reply. But
Raff’s next words were spoken loud enough to hear plainly through
the closed door. “Yet you would have us leave our homes and fight
your enemies for you.”
    “The French are your enemies, too.”
    “Only because we are your allies, drawn
together by a treaty you English refuse to honor.”
    “Now look here, Raff. You can’t possibly
think the French would—”
    Raff’s voice cut off the governor’s words. “I
shall hold council with Little Carpenter when I return to the Lower
Towns. Perhaps he shall view your betrayal in a better light than
I.”
    Before Caroline could appreciate what he’d
said, the door slammed open, and Raff strode into the anteroom. She
was caught with her neck craned to the side in an obvious listening
stance. Searching her mind for an explanation for her
eavesdropping, she jumped to her feet.
    But her companion didn’t seem to notice her.
He stopped when the governor, looking exasperated and slightly
dumbfounded called out. Caroline didn’t know what he said for the
word was foreign to her. But Raff seemed to recognize it. He turned
to face the older man.
    “I will see what I can do.” The governor
lifted his arms, the thick lace falling back over his wrists.
“Perhaps if I could speak directly with the Headmen we could come
to a compromise.”
    Raff’s eyes narrowed as he studied
Lyttleton’s heavy jowled face. “I will take your words to the Ani`-Yun`wiya , my people. Much depends upon this.”
    Caroline shivered. She couldn’t help herself.
The air in the small stuffy room seemed suddenly charged, like the
moments before a storm blows off the channel. Caroline wouldn’t
have been surprised to see the silk curtains that hung heavy and
limp in the midmorning heat start trailing out like banners in the
wind.
    But there was no wind... no storm. Only the
heightened emotion between the two men as they stared at each
other. Then Raff turned abruptly, seemingly noticing Caroline for
the first time since he entered the room. After a quick bow toward
the governor, he grabbed Caroline’s hand and practically pulled her
from the room. The door slammed behind them.
    They were halfway down the wide stairs before
Caroline managed to catch hold of the railing and slow their pace.
Her heart beat a rapid tattoo, and she looked down wide-eyed at her
companion who came to a halt two steps below her. She watched as
the expression on his face changed.
    “I apologize,” Wolf let loose her hand,
noting the pale skin was red from his grip. He tried a smile,
forcing himself to appear pleasant though his blood still boiled
from the encounter with Governor Lyttleton. “We should leave while
there are still hours of daylight.” The touch of her fingers on his
sleeve kept Wolf from continuing down the stairs.
    “Wait.” Caroline bit her bottom lip.
Questioning what fate dealt her was rarely something she did. She
should simply realize she was an unplanned spectator to the
confrontation that just occurred and leave it at that. But somehow
she couldn’t. Whatever had transpired was important to Raff
MacQuaid, vitally important. No amount of pretending on his part
could hide that. “What did you mean by much depends upon it? Why
are you so angry?”
    He didn’t answer, only continued to stare at
her in a way that made her heart beat faster. Then he pivoted and
continued down the stairs, his step less hurried. Surprised,
Caroline lifted her skirts and rushed to catch up. She