Chapter 18 A Cursed Object Returns a Curse
“We should leave this island.” Alden leaned on the edge of Caleb’s desk, glancing down at the map spread across it. “Posthaste.”
Frowning, Caleb raised his shoulder up and down, stretching his bandaged wound, but said naught.
“I foresee that will not be the only time you are attacked,” Alden added. “Or any of us. There are many here who suffered from that raid. Wounded hearts rarely heal so quickly.”
“I fear you are right, as always, my friend.” Caleb sank into his chair and rested his head against the back. “But we can hardly sail in this condition.” He blinked as if to clear his thoughts.
“You should lie down and rest,” Alden said, studying his captain.
“God healed you, but that doesn’t grant you license to abuse your good health.
” Amazement filtered through Alden. He would not have attempted such a miracle, save he’d clearly heard God’s Spirit prompting him to rebuke the fever.
He’d never stepped out in faith before, had always left that to Caleb and his family, but the woman needed to know there was a God.
And Caleb couldn’t die.
Huffing, Caleb scrubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I do wonder why God didn’t just bring me home. Prevent me from making further blunders.”
Alden slanted his lips. “Perhaps because He still has works of great importance for you to accomplish.”
Caleb gave him a cynical look and changed the subject. “What of the repairs?”
Alden stiffened his jaw. He hated to give bad news, but there was naught to be done for it. “We’ve lost much-needed tools—caulking irons, mallets, shears, chisels, marlinspikes, even a pot of pitch.”
Caleb raised one brow, fury storming across his face. “Lost?”
Alden blew out a sigh, thumbing the scar across his cheek. “Stolen, I suppose, though how the thieves are able to sneak aboard without being seen…”
“Double the watch,” Caleb ordered. “Have the crew take shifts. Half awake at night to work and guard and the other half during the day.”
“Aye. But, as she stands, we can set sail without fear of sinking. The hole in her hull is nearly repaired, good enough for a gentle sea. And we can fix spars and sails as we go.”
“I will not be run off by a band of revengeful ruffians.”
“Then perhaps by a malicious marquis?”
Caleb gave him an inquisitive glance. “If you know something I do not, pray, enlighten me.”
“I cannot say. ’Tis more of a feeling, a sense.
I don’t trust him.” Alden longed to say more, to give a stronger warning, but he’d promised Caleb’s father, Alex, that he’d give Caleb counsel but allow him to discern good and evil on his own, to gain back the confidence he lost in both himself and God.
“I harbor no trust for the swag-bellied ruffler either. But I need proof of his treachery.” Caleb rubbed his temples.
Alas, the only proof Alden had was his troubled spirit.
That and Dr. Brandt’s ramblings about a conversation he’d overheard from a woman with a creole accent and what sounded like the Marquis’s French tone.
The Ring was mentioned, Brandt had said, or at least he’d thought so, but he’d only heard snippets that when put together made no sense.
Should Alden tell Caleb these things? Caleb was Alden’s friend.
Did his loyalty lie in friendship or in duty to his father? ’Twas a struggle he constantly fought.
“But I urge you to seek the Lord’s wisdom,” Alden finally said.
“Humph.” Caleb brushed a thumb over the cross around his neck. “I do…I try…but I do not sense Him like I used to.”
“You’d do well to remember ’tis not Him who has moved.”
?
Caleb eased Desi’s cabin door open. He knew he should allow her to rest. Alden had told him she refused to leave his side for two days while he was feverish, which only endeared her to him more. Yet, he longed to see her, to look upon her, to remember their kiss.
He slipped inside, closing the door behind him.
Sunlight bent through the round window angling over her with the sway of the ship as she lay on the cot fast asleep.
Patches lay snuggled beside her. So, that’s where his cat had gone off to?
But how could he blame her? The lady’s chest rose and fell as her deep breaths filled the air. Blood stained her torn gown, his blood.
“Where did you hail from?” he whispered. Perhaps an angel dropped down from heaven, for she was surely not of this world.
Memories of their kiss lingered on his lips.
Heat, as hot and powerful as cannon fire, had seared through him, tilting his world.
Yet not purely passion, a different kind of heat, filled with an aching sweetness.
Aye, he had kissed many women before, but never had his soul stirred thus, never did recognition spring within him, never did flashes of joy, sorrow and love flood her taste like memories pulled out of time.
He had known her before. Impossible. Yet past and future collided in that one embrace, and when at last he drew back, his heart thundered with more than desire.
He had looked at her, breathless, and the thought struck him with staggering force. She is mine. She has always been mine.
Standing there now, watching her sleep, he relived that moment, as confusing and exhilarating as if it had just happened.
What was happening to him? “Who are you, Desiree Starr?” Creeping forward, he laid his gifts, one over the chair, and the others on the table beside her bed, and before he woke her as he longed to do, he left as quietly as he had come.
?
Desi dangled her feet over the edge of her dive boat, enjoying foamy waves splashing her bare toes. Sunlight glistened over a teal sea stretching to the horizon as a light breeze swept away all her cares.
“Are you going to go in or just stare at the water?” Camila teased as she coiled a loose rope to Desi’s right.
Ethan looked up from his perch at the wheel and grinned. “Nothing wrong with just sitting and enjoying God’s magnificent creation.” He winked at Desi. But in that wink, she saw more than camaraderie, more than friendship. It was as if he knew something she didn’t, something powerful.
She didn’t have time to think about it when another voice both startled her and drew her gaze to her left.
“Suit up, Sis. Come on. I’m dying to see that reef you’re always talking about.
” Daria grabbed a pair of fins, sat, and tugged them on.
A dark blue wetsuit clung to a body firm and strong.
Long beachy waves of golden hair fluttered from her ponytail.
Her face was plump, healthy, her smile wide, and her eyes clear and sparkling.
“Dar, you’re not sick anymore.” Desi swung her legs back into the boat and jumped up.
Her bare feet struck splintered wood. “Ouch.”
The shout of sailors, cry of sea gulls, and thundering of a hammer swept away the gentle lap of waves against her boat, the voices of her friends, and the laughter of her sister.
Daria!
Against everything within her, she opened her eyes. The oak deck of her cabin, with its divots and stains stared back at her. Tears burned. A dream. One she longed to leap back into. If only to see her sister healthy again.
Pushing from the deck, she slowly rose and brushed off her skirts.
Silvery shadows poured through the window, and she groped for the flint and steel and struck them together.
Sparks leapt, one landing on the charred cloth.
She fed the glow into a twist of tinder and touched it to the lantern wick as Ayida had taught her.
With a quick flare, light bloomed behind the horn panes, chasing back the dark.
Patches yawned from her spot on the cot and leapt onto the table by Desi’s bed.
A pearly flower sat atop it. A gardenia?
Picking it up, she drew it to her nose and inhaled the sweet scent.
Beside it lay a stack of paper, or parchment as they called it here, and a quill and bottle of ink.
Astounded, she rubbed her eyes. Maybe she was still fast asleep and dreaming.
Either that or someone had left her these gifts—the only person who knew her favorite flower and that she loved to write.
She smiled, lifting the gardenia to her nose again, remembering their kiss, remembering how he bravely fought to protect her, remembering also the horrific story he’d shared with her.
Who was this man? This pirate from long ago, this hero who touched her soul in ways no one ever had?
You’re being ridiculous, Desi. She couldn’t fall in love.
She had to find a way to get back home, back to her sister.
And no man, no matter how heroic and chivalrous, was going to stop her.
Setting down the flower, she turned to see a fresh bodice and skirt lying over the back of the chair.
Ah yes. Her gown had been stained with his blood. He’d thought of everything.
?
Caleb stared aloft at the men working on the fractured spars and damaged canvas. Moonlight cast ghostly shadows over both his crew and the loops of furled sail cloth. He’d forfeited a large sum to replenish the stolen tools and wasn’t about to allow the thief to abscond with them again.
Alden appeared beside him. “Night watch is set, Captain.”
Liam slid down the backstay, landing in a flourish, and joined them. “If all goes weel, Cap’n, the crew should have the repairs done in a day.”
Caleb nodded. “Ensure the watch stays alert and awake. I’ll not have any more thievery aboard my ship.”
“Aye, Captain.” Frowning, Alden gripped his baldric.
“I cannot imagine how anyone was able to sneak on board undetected. Makes no sense.” His gaze locked upon something across the deck, and Caleb turned to see Ayida delivering bowls of stew to the night crew.
If Caleb didn’t know Alden so well, he’d think suspicion lingered in his eyes.
“You believe the thief comes from within the ship?” he asked his friend.
Alden shrugged but said naught.