Renegade by Caroline Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

who were willing to bring in those goods with a minimum of questions asked and tariffs paid—made their fortunes. The fact that the job came with the chance to thumb his nose at the new taxes and regulations the US Government had imposed was its own reward.
    In the long silence, Robert spoke again. “So you’re thinkin’ they catch us and string me up for smuggling, even though I’m obviously just a poor black man led astray?”
    This time Mac’s snort was audible, and he even managed a grin. “I’m not saying it’s a guarantee.”
    “An’ while this is happening, you’re just standing around, watchin’ me die?”
    Mac’s eyes flew open then, not so much at the words, but the bleakness in his friend’s voice. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
    “So you’d start another fight you couldn’t finish.”
    The two men stared at one another across the dirty table, their eyes speaking more than they could ever say. They’d saved one another’s lives enough to know that neither would let the other die. Still, Robert’s teasing couldn’t dispel the bolt of unease that went through Mac at the thought of his friend facing punishment.
    “Maybe…”
    “Ain’t no maybe about it, Mac. You’d jump in, and they’d kill you, too.” Robert finally downed his drink. He stared into the empty glass. “I ain’t keen on dyin’, and I don’t want you to die for me.”
    “Fair enough. I ain’t ready to die yet, either.”
    Robert poured himself another drink, and Mac could tell when his friend was very clearly not looking in his direction. “So, why the sudden concern about our necks? We’ve been doing this for years.”
    He was right. Mac sighed and leaned his head back against the wooden beam and closed his eyes again. “I dunno. Just thinkin’ lately.”
    He’d been seventeen when he’d gone to sea for the first time, signing with an English ship bringing relief supplies to Charleston. Robert had come along, because the two of them were inseparable by then. They’d been home only occasionally in the years after, content to see the world from the deck of a steamer.
    Holt had given him grief about being away from Baird’s Cove, but Mac had never loved the plantation the way his brother did. The older man had retreated there after the war, and basically become a hermit in the years since. He was after Mac to marry and have a few sons, so that Holt could pass the responsibilities of Baird’s Cove on to someone else, but the idea was laughable. Mac wasn’t about to settle down and give up his freedom, just because his brother needed an heir. He still had years of adventures ahead of him.
    When their mother had died, he taken the last of his inheritance, combined it with what he and Robert had saved from their years on the steamers, and purchased the Polaris . She was a schooner, perfect for the small import business he’d started to ship rum from Nassau up to Charleston, and she represented complete freedom. He didn’t have to listen to orders when he was on board her… he didn’t have to call anyone “sir” and he got to make his own schedule. Baird Shipping brought in a modest income for him and his crew, and allowed him the chance to live life with no rules, no boundaries.
    The money he made on the side smuggling lace into the city was a bonus. They could quit that, and turn completely legit, and still have the autonomy to sail wherever they wanted.
    But lately, he’d been wondering if maybe there was more to life. His dream had always been the freedom the Polaris represented… but that dream was starting to feel too small.
    “How long’ve you been thinkin’ this?” Robert’s low rumble interrupted his musings.
    “Few weeks, now.”
    Robert finally took that drink, and Mac heard him swallow. “So, just about the time we finally got to meet Creel.”
    “On Beckett.” And those two words brought back a flood of memories: the smell of the salt marsh, the sound of the crickets, the way a