Captive by Heather Graham

but there was little he could do when Warren sent for her. Warren hadn’t even asked him for the hospitality—Jarrett’s old friend, the army lieutenant Tyler Argosy, had asked him the favor. Jarrett had found the letter from his friend upon his arrival in Tampa for supplies. Tyler—or a very fine young soldier by the name of John Harrington—would probably be chosen to act as the girl’s escort, since both those men were the most knowledgeable—other than Jarrett himself—regarding the Indians in the area as well as the terrain. He’d heard rumors that Warren was interested now in a match between his daughter—stepdaughter—and Harrington. Young Harrington’s family was quite wealthy, and very influential in political circles.
    Harrington, Jarrett thought with amusement, must be worrying right now about his senior officer’s determination that he wed the man’s daughter—after all, Harrington hadn’t even met the young lady. He was probably imagining the girl as a female version of Michael Warren.
    Jarrett shuddered, then smiled. Harrington was going to be pleasantly surprised when he met Teela Warren.
    Jarrett called out the order to bring his ship in, then came down the starboard side to where she stood, staring at the land, excitement bringing a shimmer to her eyes. “What do you think of Cimarron, Miss Warren?” he inquired.
    What did she think? Teela shook her head in amazement. “It’s … extraordinary.” She’d seldom seen such a beautiful house, even in Charleston, where wealthy men prided themselves on the grace of their homes. The house was huge, whitewashed, elegant. Massive columns stood across the front, along with a veranda that encirled the whole of the first floor. Breezeway doors stood open to catch the air, cool though it still was. And even as men jumped from the ship to the dock, a woman appeared upon the porch, a tall, lovely woman with sun blond hair and a supple build, waving even as she started to run toward the ship.
    Tara McKenzie, Teela thought. The wife the captain so adored. She’d heard little from him last night that didn’t circle back to his wife and his infant son.
    Jarrett McKenzie was, in fact, off the ship with a smooth leap over the bow rail. His wife had made it to the dock by then, so he didn’t have far to go before reaching her, sweeping her up high, and clasping her in his arms. They met in a searing kiss, one so filled with both tenderness and passion that Teela found herself seeking somewhere else to look. It wasn’t difficult. The dock, though belonging to the one home, seemed a busy place. The crew greeted other men who had come from the fields or the house, clasping hands, tossing up bales and barrels. Everyone smiled at Teela even as they studied her with both frank curiosity and welcome. “Miss Warren!”
    McKenzie had remembered her. Teela turned quickly, and saw that both Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie stood at the gangway, awaiting her. Startled that she should suddenly feel so shy, Teela hurried ashore.
    Tara McKenzie slipped from her husband’s arms to greet Tara with a little hug. “Welcome, welcome to Cimarron.” She stepped back, smiling ruefully. “I admit, you’re not quite what I expected. I received a message from Tyler warning me that he presumed Jarrett would be bringing me a child.”
    “Not a child,” Teela said. “But still beneath the wing of a guardian.”
    Tara nodded, keeping her opinion on that silent. “We’re absolutely delighted to have you. In fact, you have arrived at a perfect time, for we’re having a small party this evening, a dance for my husband’s birthday. I assure you, our little community will be delighted to meet you. We do just love fuel for gossip here!” she warned teasingly.
    “You’ll scare her!” Jarrett said.
    Tara smiled, shaking her head. “Who could have been discussed more than me, eh, my love? Come now, Teela, you must see the house.”
    With Tara’s arm linked through hers, Teela walked