Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Samantha yanked her blouse back down as a cascade of dirt and pebbles rained down on them.
*
After an hour’s worth of men digging above, Samantha climbed out into blessed sunshine. When Christian came out behind her, the crew lowered ropes and one by one men rappelled down. Minutes later, a pile of treasure had already accumulated.
Griff led the first group of men to the ship and Christian gave orders to move the prisoners out. Each time she lowered her eyelids, it became a struggle to reopen them. She blinked, resisting the urge to wipe at her eyes.
When Christian started across the clearing toward Thorne and motioned from him to get up, she raised a hand.
“Not yet.”
Christian cocked his head.
“I want him to watch.”
He frowned and stepped closer. “Stoking his hatred can only cause more problems.”
She glanced at the pirate captain, who glared at a crew member walking by, bent over the weight of the chest in his arms. “He deserves a taste of his own medicine.”
Turning on her heel, she marched back to the opening, where boxes upon boxes continued to pile up. It would take them well into the night to shuttle it all to the ship. Some of the rotting wood had given out and several piles of coins lay strewn about the ground.
She bent and plucked one from the dirt at her feet, rubbing the warm weight of it between two fingers. Her gaze tracked over Christian’s men as they led their prisoners one by one down the path back to the ships. His first officer strolled from giant to giant, checking the strength of bindings.
“Officer?”
Isaac twisted her way and lifted a blonde brow.
“I require your assistance.”
After tightening a knot and giving orders for iron shackles to be placed on all prisoners as they boarded the ships, he strode over. “Yes, Captain?”
Christian folded his arms at his officer’s address of her. Muscular, bare arms that bulged at his sides. She jerked her eyes away and smiled brightly at Isaac.
“Though your lieutenant has turned down my offer of sharing our spoils, I do believe it was out of formality. I’m in your debt, and would like to offer at the very least, a small reward.”
Isaac’s lips drew into a line. “I’m flattered, but we were only doing our duty, my lady. I must follow my lieutenant’s orders.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Tell me, Officer, how often the US government gives you men bonuses?”
A telling silence followed her pointed question.
“And do they pay you a fair salary?”
He let out a little cough. “Fair enough.”
The coin flipped in the air, catching the sunlight with a golden shimmer. If he were anything like the lieutenant, he came from wealth. Most higher-ups in the military did. But lower-ranking men, they made little more than a farmer, if they were lucky.
“The men beneath you, how many provisions would even one of these provide for their families?”
He held her gaze. “Quite a bit.”
Some of the nearby sailors had stopped what they were doing and watched with eager eyes. This stash held more wealth than her crew could spend in their lifetimes. If it weren’t for these navy men, she’d be dead right now. The lieutenant could shove off.
She pointed to an open chest full of similar coins. “Take it. Share with those who need it.”
“I can’t.” Isaac’s jaw had gone rigid.
“Yes, you can.” Clenching the gold in her palm, she turned to the sailor closest to her, a burly man with coal-colored hair, and tossed it to him. He caught it and stared at his hand.
“Could you use it, sir?”
He glanced at Christian, whose frown had returned, but nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve two boys at home, they’ve been needing new shoes for a while now.”
“Keep it.” She turned and grabbed the chest.
It didn’t budge. Lord, she forgot how much gold weighed. With a heave, she got it to move a couple inches. Heat crept up her ears as the men watched her struggle with it.
A shadow fell over her. “What are you doing?”
“You hate pirates. So you stubbornly refuse to accept help or even payment from one. Don’t you care what good this could do for them?” She spoke to the handle she tugged on, soft enough so only he could hear.
“Is that what you think? That I don’t care for them?” He leaned in and placed a hand over hers, halting the minuscule movement she’d coaxed from the blasted chest. “Would you like to know how many of them died trying to rescue you, thinking you were the helpless esteemed Miss Warstein?”
A cold weight settled in her stomach. “No,” she whispered, blinking back the memory of cannon fire.
“No?” He straightened. “When you’re a captain, you don’t get to pick and choose. You don’t get to gloss over the dirty details, the hard reality of life at sea.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I never said—”
“Don’t ever insinuate I don’t care for my men. Each loss I suffer cuts deeply.”
“I’m sorry.” And she was. Her temper had gotten the better of her and she’d shown just how naive she really was. Worse, the tentative camaraderie they’d enjoyed in the cave had slipped away like a handful of sand.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he regarded her. “Isaac, take the chest. Split it however you see fit.”
He turned and pointed to the man holding a sword at Thorne’s back. “Bring him to the ship.” Without a backward glance, he walked away and a thousand little fractures splintered across her heart as everything she’d let herself hope for earlier vanished.
“How amusing.” Thorne stood and shifted his gaze between them. “The great lieutenant, taking charity from a pirate.”
Christian stopped a few yards ahead of her. “Silence.”
The word rang through the clearing, sharp with warning.
But Thorne chuckled. “I wonder if she would have offered it if she’d known who you are.”
Isaac paused mid-lift of the chest and stared at her with wide eyes as Christian spun to face the pirate.
“Not. Another. Word.”
The coldness in her belly turned to ice. “What are you talking about?”
Thorne turned his attention to her with gleaming eyes. “And what about you, Miss Warstein? Does your lover know your true identity?”
She blinked. “Of course he does.”
His grin spread to reveal a flash of white teeth. “Or should I say, the identity of your uncle?”
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She tried to suck in air, but nothing happened.
No.
Anything but that.
“I thought not.” The sailor at his back pushed him forward but the pirate kept his eyes locked on her. “Did the lieutenant tell you why he hates pirates so much?”
Somehow, her lungs drew air as she gave a curt nod. “His mother was killed by pirates.”
“He left out the part that his mother was—”
Christian drew his sword and started across the clearing and Isaac dropped the chest. “Don’t listen to him.” The officer reached out as if to clap his hands over her ears, but she twisted from his reach.
“My wife.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Christian slid to a stop and his face went pale as a ringing filled her ears. Thorne, his father?
Impossible.
But the look on his face said it all.
“Red.” Her name tumbled from his lips in a strangled whisper.
She shook her head, slowly at first and backed away. “How?”
How could he have kept it from her? How long had he known? How could she have not recognized the similarities between the two men? Their hair color. The intense green of their eyes. The same damn nose and chin.
The little lines of pain in her chest exploded outward and she fell to her knees. His father murdered her parents.
Christian stepped toward her but Thorne’s voice cut through the clearing. “Not so fast, son. Your pretty little piece here isn’t any ordinary pirate.”
She pressed her eyes closed.
“You’re looking at Captain Remington’s niece.”
Her muscles tensed. But Christian didn’t say anything. After several moments of tense silence, she opened her eyes to catch a glimpse of sodden boots twisting away. He left the clearing without so much as a word.
Spots filled her vision as her chest went tight. Her uncle. If she didn’t get back to Savannah before the navy, he might very well face the noose. She pushed to leaden feet and stumbled down the path. “Christian!”
He turned and she stopped short. “You were right, Red. We are enemies. I was foolish to forget.”
“Please.” The brush blurred around her in a swirl of green. “My uncle.”
He laughed, the cold sound extinguishing the day’s heat. “Let me guess. You want amnesty for him as well? Tell me, what exactly do you have left to offer?”
The words cut through her.
“He’s all the family I have.”
His face twisted. “Family? How lucky you know of such a concept. Up until last week, I had no family. And look where I am now.” He jabbed a finger back toward the clearing.
“Don’t cry to me about family when I’ll be hanging my father by the end of the week.
” His voice broke and he turned away once more.
“I’ll give you and your uncle one week to disappear. ”
She caught her breath. “You know that’s not possible.”
“It’s the only grace I’m willing to offer.”
Those broad shoulders held a rigid stance, his breaths coming ragged. He was hurting. And damned her if she didn’t want to reach out. Her own breath shuddered. He wouldn’t accept any comfort from her. Not anymore.
“The favor.”
He didn’t move.
“You said you owed me a favor. This is what I want. Don’t come after my uncle.”
His fingers curled into fists. “I think we’re even after today.”
A tightness closed around her throat. “I’ll talk to him. Tell him our pirating is over.”
Silence pressed around her as he shook his head.
Fine. She swallowed back a strangled sob. “I’ll never set foot on a ship again.”
He turned, the movement slow and deliberate. “Do you mean it?”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. So, she pressed her eyes shut and nodded. A cicada buzzed overhead in the heavy silence as tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Alright, Miss Warstein. You have a deal.”