Chapter 17 Chivalry is Never Dead #2
Desi’s gaze snapped to Alden, waiting for the punch line, waiting for him to laugh at his own joke. But his expression was one of somber awe. Rubbing the back of her aching neck, she shook her head. Fanciful fables. That was all.
“And there are more tales to add as well. God has granted him the gift of performing miracles.”
“Then why did he use the Ring for the rats?” Desi smirked.
“Because of the tragedy that befell him here on this godforsaken island.” Gripping his baldric, Alden blew out a sigh. “He doesn’t believe in himself anymore or that God will use him.”
Desi didn’t know what to make of all the crazy stories. Maybe that’s all they were, wild sailor yarns full of fancy and fiction. She needed to change the topic. Desperately.
“How did you come to sail with Caleb?”
“The tale does me no credit, Miss. Let’s just say I was about to be locked in irons for thievin’.
” He crossed his boots at the ankle and gripped the edge of the desk.
“As an orphan of only fifteen, I was hungrier than I was smart. But Caleb’s father, Captain Alexander Hyde paid the cost of the stolen food and brought me aboard his ship, made me a topman. ”
“That was kind of him.”
“Aye, he changed my life. Taught me about God, how to be a man of honor, and how to sail a ship.”
“So, you must have grown up with Caleb? You can’t be much older than him.”
“Ten years, and aye, I suppose I was like the older brother he never had.”
“And that scar?”
“Ah.” He ran a thumb down it. “A story for another time.”
The door squeaked open and Liam strode in. His gaze swept over the cabin and landed on Caleb. “How is he?”
“Fever’s got him. For now.” Alden said.
“Aye, just saw the doc. He says ’tis not good.” Liam took a step toward his captain, cast a glance at Desi before staring at Caleb, a look of genuine concern in his eyes. “Anything I can do?” Patches opened her one eye to see who it was.
“Pray if you’re a mind to it,” Alden said. “Other than that, nay. Get your rest. With the captain sick, I’ll need you on the morrow.”
Nodding, Liam gripped the stone around his neck, kissed it, and sped out.
“What’s his deal?” Desi asked after the door closed.
“Deal?”
“Story. Background.”
“Ah, Liam O’Neill. He is exactly as he appears, I’m afraid.
All I know is he was the bastard son of a tavern maid who left him to rot in an alleyway when he was only nine.
He ran off to sea and worked his way up from powder monkey to boatswain.
He’s one of the best in the Caribbean, if I’ll admit it. ”
“Yes, and he seems to know it. Rather sure of himself, isn’t he?”
“Things are not always as they appear, Miss. His past haunts him, makes him feel worthless, unwanted. I think he fears failure more than anything. And being abandoned again. ’Tis why he leaps from wench to wench.
” With a sheepish grin, he lowered his gaze to the deck.
“Pardon my crude language, Miss. What I meant to say was that he prefers short, meaningless trysts. That way no one can reject him.”
She smiled at his embarrassment. “You are very perceptive, Alden. I see why Caleb relies on your advice.”
“He may listen, but rely?” Alden chuckled. “He can be stubborn.”
Smiling, she laid the back of her hand against Caleb’s cheek. It felt like a hot coal. “He’s burning up.” Air seized in her throat. Did she really care for this man, or was it because he was her only friend in this strange time?
His silver cross lay on his chest, moist with sweat, as it rose and fell with each pained breath. An etching on the back caught her eye and she drew close to read it.
His Kingdom will Never End
An odd thing to inscribe on a cross, but what did she know about God? “There must be something we can do.” Her voice squeaked and she clutched her throat. “People die so easily in this time before antibiotics.”
“Anti—?” He cocked his head, eyes narrowing.
“So…,” he drawled. “You really are from the future?” Alden’s tone was not one of shock or even mockery, but surprisingly, more of acceptance. Pushing from the desk, he moved toward her, his boots thumping over the deck. Then squatting, he stared up at her, his features lost in the shadows.
“God must have brought you here for a reason, Miss Starr.”
“I don’t know about that. And I need to get home. But right now…” She glanced at Caleb. “He cannot die. Tell me he will not die.” She laid a hand on Alden’s arm, forcing back the moisture from her eyes.
Placing his hand atop hers, he nodded and bowed his head.
The off-key tones of a fiddle drifted from town, joining the creak of the Sentinel as she rocked in the bay.
After several minutes, he glanced up, removed his hand, and said, “He won’t die this night.”
How he knew that, she had no idea, but somehow, she believed him.
He smiled her way. “Now you will see there is a God, Miss Starr.” He gripped Caleb’s arm. Wind whistled past the stern windows as laughter rang from a band of sailors up on deck.
But when Alden spoke, he spoke with the authority of a king. “Fever, I command you to leave this man’s body in the name of Jesus.”
“He’ll be all right now, Miss.” Rising, he gestured with his head toward the door. “I beg you to get some rest.”
Desi wanted to laugh, to scream, to tell this man that a stupid prayer was not going to heal Caleb. How many prayers had she lifted up for God to find her father at sea and then for Him to heal her mother? And to save her sister? Prayers didn’t work because God wasn’t real.
But Alden was so sure. A tall, imposing statue of confidence and peace, making her almost want to believe what he said was true.
Slowly, she shook her head. “I won’t leave him.”
An hour later, Desi was startled awake by the doctor’s gruff voice. She shot up from where she’d fallen asleep leaning on the side of Caleb’s bed.
“Move aside, Miss, if you please.”
Rubbing her eyes, she scooted the stool back and rose, while Brandt shooed Patches away and examined Caleb.
“His fever’s broke.” He finally said, his tone gleeful. “He’s going to be all right. Best allow him to sleep now, Miss.”
Desi could only stare at the man. Over his shoulder, Alden grinned her way.
Confusion, elation, and shock spun through her. He’d been on death’s door an hour ago. No fever left that quickly. Rushing forward, she gripped his hand. Warm but not searing anymore.
Caleb’s mouth moved. His eyes opened slightly. “Desi,” he mouthed out, squeezing her hand before he drifted off again.
This made no sense!
“Now, will you get some rest?” Alden quirked a brow. “’Tis nearly dawn.”
Unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to make sense of anything in this crazy century, Desi clutched her infernal skirts and stormed from the room.