Chapter 15
By the time I’d finished my chore, I couldn’t stand to see another apple.
A mountain of the things sat beside me on a small table tucked into the far back corner of the kitchen.
Cook stood at the counter rolling a small hill of pastry crusts.
He snatched a handful of apples, tossed them together with spice and sugar, and in the blink of an eye had a pie ready for the hot stove.
The galley soon filled with the smell of apple pie, and the scent soothed my frayed nerves.
That is, until the crew started coming into the galley, their noses in the air. They took seats at the tables, their mouths salivating at the scent.
“Smells good, Cook!”
“You got extra sugar in those things?”
“I could eat a whole one!”
“And you’ll be over the side tossing it to the fish again like last time,” Cook scolded him as he pulled out the first dozen. “Besides, nobody’s getting any until you use Rose’s skins to catch yourself some fish.”
The men’s cheer died faster than a tango at a funeral. More than one cast a dark look at the kitchen, and I was glad I could shrink behind the mountain of my work.
One of the men stood and climbed off the bench. “I think I just lost my appetite.”
Another one followed his example. “Me, too.”
The whole company jumped when Cook slammed his fist on the counter. The wood creaked under the pressure, and pie tins danced. The men winced beneath the sharp look of the normally friendly chef as he stared at each of them.
“This is the captain’s ship, but this is my galley,” Cook growled. “So when you come down here, you treat your fellow mates with respect, or you keep your mouth shut. Got it?”
The men bobbed their heads. Cook drew his hand off the counter. His large hand had left a faint depression in the wood. “Now then, you fellas get over here in a nice line and we’ll give you your peels so you can catch your dinner.”
The sailors scurried to obey. I hauled the mountain over to the counter, and Cook doled out the peels. A few of the men cast dark looks at me, but one glare of warning from the chef quieted their tongues. In a few minutes, the galley was emptied except for Cook, me, and a bunch of cooling pies.
And my guilt.
I plopped back down in my chair and clasped my hands in my lap. There weren’t any tears in me, but perhaps that was the exhaustion. That, and the worry. I’d been cutting and peeling apples for several hours, and there’d been no word about the captain.
Cook lumbered over to the table and took a seat opposite me. The chair groaned beneath his girth. “Don’t you mind them, Rose. They’re a rough lot, but it’s only because they care so much that they’re giving ya the evil eye.”
I let out a long, shuddering breath. “It’s hard not to care when you’re the one who put him in that bed.”
“I told you before, Rose. The captain would’ve gone into that jungle even for that slithery creature, Ramaro.
He’s the kind of fella who likes to swagger around and play the stern father figure to these rope-climbing kids, and that’s just the type to go jumping off the ship and rescuing a pretty woman like yourself from the beast.”
I leaned back and furrowed my brow. “What’s this curse of the women, anyway?”
He chuckled. “Don’t think too much about it, Rose. It’s an old superstition that sailors have. They have a full hold of the things. Everything from what cracks to step on to whether to toss the rope over the left or right side of their shoulder. You wouldn’t believe what they carry around, too.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Like what?”
He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest so they lay over his ample stomach.
“Well, some of them carry around a dead creature from their homeland. Thinks it gives them an anchor to the world that no storm can break. Others use herbs.” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.
“Sometimes I catch them stealing some of the food when they lose their lucky charm.”
“Do any of them work?”
He grinned and tapped his temple. “It helps them think it works, and a man with encouragement can do a lot more than a man without.”
“So I don’t have to go picking up anything special?” I guessed.
Cook’s sharp eyes looked me over. “From what I hear, you have something better than a lucky clod of dirt. You have a voice that attracts the waves.”
I blinked at him until my mind recalled the episode at the bow of the ship. I laughed and waved him off. “I’m sure that was just the captain playing tricks on me.”
He slowly shook his head. “No, miss. The captain can play tricks, but with magic, he’s deadly serious.”
My smile faltered. “What do you mean?”
He adjusted his position. “What I mean to say is that if the captain said you did something special, then you did something special, and you’d best mind yourself. Being special means you get a lot of attention, and much of it wouldn’t be any good.”
A heavy silence settled between us as I brooded over his words. Footsteps out in the hall forced our attention to the door, and Fidel strode into the galley. “The captain’s awake, Miss Larkin. He wants to see you.”
Some of the color drained from my face, but Cook reached over and patted one of my hands. “It’ll be alright, Rose. Go see what he wants. I’ll hold down the galley until you get back.”
I offered him a smile as I stood. “Thanks, Cook. For everything.”
I slipped over to Fidel, and he guided me onto the deck.
Night had been replaced by morning, and a cool sun rose above the horizon.
Many of the crew stood at the railing with fishing poles in hand.
All eyes were on the cabin door, but some cast their disgusted looks at me.
I was glad when we slipped into the cabin.
The shadows of night still clung to the dark corners of the room, but a flickering candle on the nightstand illuminated the bed. The captain lay under the covers with his arms atop the sheets. His eye was open and watching the door. The doctor stood at the bedside and bowed his head at my entrance.
Torvus tried to sit up at my coming, but his strength failed him. He sank back onto the plush pillows, but smiled at me. His voice was soft and low, and more frail than I cared to hear. “Sorry, I’m not rising for your entrance, Miss Larkin.”
“So am I,” I whispered as I hesitated near the door.
The doctor caught Fidel’s attention and nodded. The tall physician turned his attention to Torvus as he sidled around the foot of the bed. “You’ll be alright in a day or two. Just don’t do anything too exciting until then.”
“I can’t guarantee that, Doc.”
“I thought as much,” Doc mused as he passed Fidel.
The first mate looked to his captain, and Torvus nodded. Doc and Fidel slipped out of the cabin, leaving me alone with the injured man. I remained near the door, my hands fidgeting together in front of me.
“You act like we’re strangers, Miss Larkin,” he teased as he studied me with his soft blue eye. “Serpent catch your tongue?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m. . .I’m really sorry this happened. It’s all because of me.”
“Is that what your long face is about?” he wondered as he struggled to sit up again.
I hurried over and grasped his arms. “Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting up quite yet.”
“And miss a full view of your beauty?” he objected as he kept trying. “Just give me a little lift and I can do it.”
I pursed my lips, but helped him sit up. He fell back against the headboard and sighed. “That feels better. Now we’re even.”
I blinked at him as I seated myself in the chair beside the bed. “What do you mean?”
“Fidel told me you were bothered by my heroic deeds, and that you felt guilty that I ended up like this.” He gestured down at himself. “But now that you’ve helped me, we’re even.”
“I helped you-” Realization dawned on me. “All I did was help you sit up.”
“And I’m very grateful for it,” he assured me as he adjusted his position. “And you’re grateful for my help, so there’s nothing we owe one another.”
My face drooped. “Saving my life isn’t the same as me helping you sit up in bed.”
He cocked his head to one side and looked me over. “Do you think I could have let you get eaten by that thing? That I would’ve pushed the ship off the shore and abandoned you?”
I winced. “I didn’t mean it like that-”
“No, you didn’t,” he agreed as he leaned forward and captured my full attention in his single eye. “And I guess it’s my fault for not telling you this in plain words: you are aboard my vessel. For a captain, anyone aboard their vessel is their responsibility.”
“But I was dragged off,” I pointed out.
“That makes it worse,” he mused as he fell back against the pillows and scowled at the wall ahead of him. “You were under my protection and you were attacked on the deck of my ship. I had to rescue you.”
His explanation gave me some comfort, but there was an unexpected nagging disappointment in the back of my mind. Still, I offered him a smile. “I still feel like I should do something more for you, even if I am under your protection.”
His eyes flickered past me and to the door, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I did hear you had made a few pies. I wouldn’t mind having a whole one to myself.”
A stifled snort escaped me. “I think I can arrange that.”
“If that settles that, then we have one more issue to handle.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
His eye twinkled. “I don’t think the island will ever forgive us.”
I choked on a laugh. “I don’t think either of us will be heartbroken over that.”
A cry came from far above the deck. “Ship!”