The Reliance Read online

  The Reliance

  M. L. Tyndall

  The Reliance

  Copyright © 2011 by M.L. Tyndall

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organization, and /or events is purely coincidental.

  Original Cover Design by Müllerhaus Publishing Arts, Inc.

  Original Cover Photography by Gloria Roundtree

  Original Illustration by Douglas Miler

  Additional design work by Bruce Carey

  Published by eChristian, Inc.

  2235 Enterprise Street

  Escondido, CA 92029

  http://echristian.com

  Originally published by Barbour Publishing, Inc.

  © 2006 by M.L. Tyndall.

  ISBN: 978-1-61843-025-0

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Pirates!

  Chapter Two: Death Trap

  Chapter Three: Captured

  Chapter Four: Unwilling Mistress

  Chapter Five: Memories

  Chapter Six: The Tempest

  Chapter Seven: With Child

  Chapter Eight: Divine Meeting

  Chapter Nine: Abandoned

  Chapter Ten: To the Depths of the Sea

  Chapter Eleven: Ominous Meeting

  Chapter Twelve: Too Close for Comfort

  Chapter Thirteen: A Ship without a Captain

  Chapter Fourteen: The Descent

  Chapter Fifteen: Betrayed

  Chapter Sixteen: A Pirate’s Life is Not for Me

  Chapter Seventeen: The Winds of Grace

  Chapter Eighteen: To the Rescue

  Chapter Nineteen: Power Struggle

  Chapter Twenty: Milady Captain

  Chapter Twenty-One: Mutiny

  Chapter Twenty-Two: God Is with Me

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Choose a Path

  Chapter Twenty-Four: The Drunken Skunk

  Chapter Twenty-Five: If Hearts Could See

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Broken Trust

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Darkening Horizon

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Taming the Beasts

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Deliverance

  Chapter Thirty: The Verge of Eternity

  Chapter Thirty-One: The Chase

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Prepare to Board

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Resurrection

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Consequences

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Pride

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Restoration

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Stolen Treasure

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Safe in His Arms

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Bow before Defeat

  Chapter Forty: Change of Heart

  Chapter Forty-One: Reliance

  Author’s Historical Footnote:

  About the Author

  Dedication

  I dedicate The Reliance to the one true and faithful

  God, and the only One on whom we can completely

  rely upon.

  Chapter One

  Pirates!

  1668 – Porto Bello, Panama

  Captain Edmund Merrick propped his head in his hand and gazed at the angel lying next to him. Reaching over, he eased a curled lock from her face and smiled as she squirmed, snuggling her head deeper into the pillow. How many nights had he spent without her these past three years? Too many to count. Now that he was back in the Caribbean for good, he found he could not keep his eyes off his precious wife.

  Charlisse stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. An ocean breeze floated in from the veranda and danced playfully through her golden curls, then drifted over her nightdress, creating waves of shimmering silk in the candlelight. The alluring nightgown was a gift he had brought her from France—a token that in no way could make up for the many months they had spent apart. Now, as he gazed at the way her feminine curves filled out every inch of the silky fabric, he was beginning to think it was more a gift for himself than for her. He smiled and saw her cheeks redden under his perusal. Married for nigh three years, he could still make her blush with only a look.

  She shifted her gaze. “What are you thinking, you cad?”

  “What this cad is always thinking when he is near his beautiful wife.” He caressed her cheek.

  An explosion shattered the thick night air, sending violent tremors through the sleeping city. Merrick bolted from the bed. Musket shots cracked like fireworks in the distance. He shoved his legs into his breeches, then barreled onto the veranda. The blaze of torches and the flash of gunfire, coming from Fort San Lorenzo, lit up the night sky. From the second story of the hacienda, he scanned the dark waters of the bay swirling below the fort. No enemy lurked there, only the gloomy hulks of dozing ships.

  Soft fingers touched his arm. “What is happening?”

  A cannon blast boomed across the sky. Charlisse jumped. Merrick took her in his arms. “The fort is under attack.”

  Charlisse stepped toward the railing and stared into the night. A scream pierced the darkness, followed by another volley of musket shot. She faced him with a look of terror. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Merrick led her inside. Fear snaked up his spine. He’d nearly lost Charlisse once before, and had no intention of ever putting her in harm’s way again. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her forehead. “Get dressed and pack our things.” He turned and grabbed his clothes strewn about the room. Who would dare attack such a well-defended port? The Dutch? Surely they would not risk a war with Spain when they had just ended one with England. The British? They preferred more surreptitious means of attacking their enemies. He could think of no alternative save pirates—and that option disturbed him most of all.

  After buttoning his cotton shirt, he slipped on his waistcoat and plopped into a leather chair to pull on his boots.

  “Don’t leave me here, Merrick.” Charlisse’s voice cracked. “In the middle of an enemy town. You know what these Spanish will do if they find an English woman in their midst.”

  Standing, Merrick strapped on his baldric as the clang of a distant sword fight and the roar of a cannon blared through the window. Charlisse flinched and turned to face him, swallowing hard.

  He approached and lifted her chin. Her crystal blue eyes sparkled with admiration as they shifted between his. “You are my wife, milady. I will never let anything happen to you.” Leaning down, he kissed her, exploring the softness of her lips and enjoying the taste of her—a taste of which he knew he would never tire.

  Charlisse stepped back and lowered her head. “I’m afraid, Merrick.”

  Following her gaze, he placed his hand over the slight swelling of her belly. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

  Musket fire erupted outside, and the rank stench of gunpowder drifted in with the breeze.

  Merrick grabbed his sword and sheathed it. After checking his pistols, he dropped them into the slots on his baldric. “Get dressed, Charlisse.” He took her hand in his. “I’ll return soon.” He marched toward the door, cursing himself for bringing his wife to this dangerous Spanish city.

  Charlisse stared at the door, feeling a sudden chill at Merrick’s departure. What had happened to the brave girl who had left the comforts of London three years before and risked everything to sail to the Caribbean alone? Maybe it was the child she carried that caused her courage to falter. Placing her hand over her stomach, she closed her eyes, remembering the sparkle in Merrick’s eyes wh
en she’d told him that he was going to be a father.

  Pistol shots sliced through the darkness, shattering Charlisse’s blissful thoughts. Scrambling to her open trunk, she removed her nightdress and threw on her petticoats, bodice, and a turquoise gown trimmed in satin lace. She pinned her hair up in a loose bun and gathered Merrick’s scattered things from around the room, placing them into the trunk before she slammed it shut. They hadn’t unpacked yet—they hadn’t expected to stay at Don Diego’s hacienda for more than a day or two while Merrick sought his latest prey.

  Loud voices from the hall drew her attention, and Merrick crashed through the door, followed by don Diego de Acala. “We must leave quickly.” Merrick marched to the bed and grabbed Charlisse’s cloak.

  Charlisse’s insides quivered at his harried tone. “Why? Who is attacking the fort?”

  Merrick’s dark eyes latched upon her. He seemed hesitant. His ebony hair had escaped its queue and fell in disarray around his handsome face.

  Don Diego stepped forward into the light A bandolier filled with silver cartridges crossed his chest. Pistolas and knives protruded from a belt hooked over his left shoulder A Spanish saber, its golden hilt glittering in the lamplight, hung at his side. The spurs on the heels of his boots rang like warning bells when he walked across the room. “It’s the pirate Captain Morgan. The outer fort has fallen and he now attacks San Lorenzo. Our courageous governor has barricaded himself within the fort’s stone walls and has left his city defenseless.”

  Charlisse swerved to face her husband. “But don’t you know Captain Morgan?”

  Merrick helped Charlisse on with her cloak. “’Tis true, my love, but it won’t matter. I’m told he has near five hundred vicious men in his company, and they will give neither care nor concern as to whether I know their captain.”

  Stepping toward the open window, don Diego peered out. A tortured scream rose above the tumult, followed by a crisp pop pop pop of pistol and musket fire—louder this time. “After they take the castle, they will swarm through the city like locusts.” The commanding Spanish don turned on his heels, his sword swinging behind him and his spurs clanging in agreement. “If you leave now, you may escape them.”

  “But you will not. You must come with us, Diego,” Merrick said.

  Don Diego waved his hands in the air. “And leave my home? No, I’m tired of running.”

  Charlisse knew little about don Diego de Acala except that he had once been a pirate and although Spain held his foremost allegiance, his ties of friendship with Merrick, formed long ago, remained strong. He had taken Merrick and Charlisse into his hacienda at great risk to himself. Merrick approached his friend and clasped his arm. “I’ll get my wife safely aboard the Redemption, and then return to help you.”

  “No need, mi amigo. It is too dangerous for you. I am well armed and have many servants who will fight with me.”

  Merrick released his hand. “You would do the same for me.”

  Don Diego sprang for the door and shouted something in Spanish down the hall.

  Leading her from the room, Merrick picked up his pace. Another blast from the fort’s cannons shook the stone walls of the hacienda. Dust rained down on them from the beams overhead. Charlisse coughed, trying to abate her tears.

  “My things.” She pointed back toward their room.

  “I’ll come back for them.” Merrick hurried her down the marble stairs and through a tiled entryway. Wide candles housed in silver sconces lined the walls. Indian and African slaves dashed in all directions, some brandishing pistolas and swords, others carrying silverware, jeweled candlesticks, and other valuable items—most likely to be hidden somewhere safe should the pirates sack the mansion. Dread mixed with sorrow gripped her heart for these people she had only just met.

  They rushed out the front door and into the main gallery—a beautiful garden open to the starry sky and surrounded by thick adobe walls spiked with iron. An iron gate guarded the only entrance, and through its rusty rods, slaves and commoners dashed through the street while caballeros on horseback raced by, ordering them to move aside. A sense of urgency overcame Charlisse. This was no small attack. The city would soon be overrun by these murderous vermin and people would surely die.

  Charlisse turned for one last look at the grandiose mansion of don Diego de Acala, a two-story hacienda of wood and stone with exquisite balconies overhanging the gallery. Lavender and crimson bougainvilleas climbed the stucco walls, clambering to reach the orange-tiled roof that shimmered in the moonlight. They had not yet spent one full night in the grand house. She feared for the people inside and for don Diego himself. How would they survive such an assault?

  From around the corner a servant hurried, leading a magnificent black horse. Don Diego took the reins, and the animal snorted and stomped his hooves into the dirt, stirring up a cloud of dust. “This is my fastest horse,” he told Merrick. “A rare Andalusian stallion.”

  A barrage of musket fire cracked the darkness not far from them, followed by a woman’s strangled scream. Charlisse’s insides clenched.

  “The pirates have already reached the city.” Don Diego handed the reins to Merrick. “You must hurry.”

  Charlisse’s breath seized. How would they ever make it to their cockboat tethered at the Manzanillo Bay, with five hundred drunken pirates scouring the city? She faced Merrick—suddenly angry at her husband for his insatiable quest for adventure. “If we had only settled in the colonies like I wanted, our child would not be in such grave danger.”

  Merrick’s lips pressed into a somber line as he assisted Charlisse up onto the saddle, her skirts billowing around her. He turned to his friend. “I’ll return soon.”

  Don Diego nodded. “Now hurry.”

  Taking two full strides, Merrick swung himself up behind Charlisse on the horse’s back. The stallion bolted, and Merrick reached around her and grabbed the reins. His warm breath floated down her neck. Despite her anger, she leaned back onto his chest, hoping his strength would ease her fears.

  He gave the horse a kick. The powerful stallion neighed and clawed the air with his front hooves, then charged from the courtyard and through the iron gate held open by one of don Diego’s servants.

  Chapter Two

  Death Trap

  Merrick raced the stallion down the cobblestone street. The clopping of the horse’s hooves echoed like war drums against the exquisite courtyards lining the roadway. Terror-stricken residents of Porto Bello dashed across the lane, forcing him to drive a chaotic path between them. A man burst into the street. Merrick jerked the reins just in time to miss a woman carrying a baby. The horse bucked, nearly toppling him and Charlisse. A load of pots, clothes, and tools flew from the man’s arms, falling to the street with clanks and thuds. The woman screamed. Charlisse shrieked as Merrick tried to control the rattled horse. The man scurried to get his things, grabbed the woman’s hand, then shot Merrick an angry look before darting into the darkness.

  A volley of musket shot saturated the air. Merrick kicked the horse’s ribs and drew Charlisse close before the stallion bolted into a gallop. She trembled. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Never fear. You are safe.”

  She squeezed his arm in return. He hated that she was afraid. He hated that he had put her in danger. And he determined to let no harm come to her—not tonight and not ever.

  Ornate haciendas, as yet untouched by the savage assault, flew by them on both sides, their galleries guarded by wooden portals pierced with iron bars. Señors and señoras stormed onto their balconies, shouting in the direction of the noises that dared to disturb their sleep.

  Mansions soon gave way to modest stucco homes capped with tile roofs. Within their iron-grilled windows, inhabitants darted about frantically as they prepared to flee.

  Horses piled into the street, along with the gilded coaches of caballeros forcing their way through the crowds. A little boy, lost and crying, strayed into the path of a carriage that was barreling toward him. Charlisse screamed. Me
rrick jerked the horse in his direction, cringing as he realized he could not reach the child in time. A woman came from nowhere, grabbed the boy, and dragged him to the side of the road just before he would have been crushed beneath the coach’s iron wheels.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Merrick patted Charlisse’s hand while they swerved around a man pushing an overloaded cart. Don Diego had been right about the horse’s speed, but the animal was also very agile for its size. No doubt the don had given Merrick his best horse, knowing he might never see it again. Merrick vowed to return to his aid as soon as possible. But he must get Charlisse to safety first. He looked over the harrowing scene of fleeing people and then toward the bay where smoke from fires clouded the moonlight. A sickening wave of terror welled up from his belly at the thought of anything happening to his wife.

  The street narrowed and angled toward the docks, twisting and turning in its descent. Wooden warehouses towered above them on one side, while Jacaranda trees created a tangled purple web on the other. Africans and Indians, holding crates atop their heads, rushed up the road away from town.

  Merrick glanced toward the bay. The gray walls of Fort San Lorenzo loomed like a skull against the cobalt sky. Ashen smoke, draped in milky moonlight, hovered over the gun turrets that now stood silent.

  The pirates had taken the fort. Soon, they would overrun the city like a pack of hungry wolves.

  A fire blazed by the docks. Clusters of pistol shots popped in nerve-wracking volleys all around him. He would have to go through the center of town in order to reach the pathway leading to Manzanillo Bay, where a cockboat from his ship awaited them. He sped down the cobblestone lane, now littered with people and goods heading in the other direction. A push wagon appeared in front of him. With a sharp nudge to the stallion’s side, Merrick urged the horse into a wide jump over it. Once the horse landed, Merrick cast a quick glance behind to make sure no one had been hurt.

  Swerving through the mass of people and animals, Merrick raced down the main street, past shops and taverns, ignoring the screams that assailed him, and berating himself for it. He wanted to help them. He knew all too well the terror they were facing at the hands of these pirates, but he had a family to protect now. Placing one arm protectively around Charlisse’s belly, he drove the horse onward.