41. Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-One
“From there you know the rest,” I concluded my tale quietly to the Brethren.
Under other circumstances, I might have been moved by their rapt attention. For once, no one was shuffling or complaining or loudly finishing off their dinner. They all watched me intently, some of them having removed their hats to hold them over their hearts.
Later, I might appreciate that reverence more, but in the moment, I had been swept back into my own grief.
I’d been so determined to keep my promise to Ursa that I hadn’t let myself fully consider the many, many things that could go wrong.
What if he’d continued refusing to eat, or tried to fight his way out of the brig again?
What if Tobago didn’t give him his final dose of the bear algae before he met Rawley?
What if he did, but Rawley had come prepared with men and weapons to overpower him?
What if—?
No. I couldn’t let myself think it. So much of my life since meeting Rawley had been nothing but a nightmare. I’d been fighting on instinct to survive, not because there was anything in my life really worth saving, but because I was simply too stubborn to let him win.
Then I met Ursa, and everything changed. I could see a future worth living for, because it was him. This was not how our story ended. Even after everything I’d been through, I could not comprehend a universe that could be so cruel.
With a resolve I didn’t fully feel, I nodded. “So, you see why it’s been so important for me to tell my story. For you all to understand. I have to get back to Haven 3.”
A few of them nodded in agreement, but the majority remained silent, watching me expectantly.
I realized at once what the problem was.
“Now, don’t worry. I have other stories I can tell to pass the time until we make it there.
There are some very funny anecdotes from my days at university—” Seeing Big Red’s eyebrow raise, I pivoted quickly.
“Or I can always make things up. How long can we possibly have until we reach Haven 3, anyway? Two weeks?”
“Three days,” Orion told me.
My immediate reaction was anger, because I was certain he was pulling my leg, and the joke was in very bad taste. But as I looked at the faces of the other men, at their encouraging nods and bolstering smiles, I found myself waffling for a moment in uncertainty before I abruptly burst into tears.
If you have never been comforted by a group of bloodthirsty pirates, I don’t know that I can say I wholly recommend it.
Everyone meant well, I’m sure, but some of their consoling pats were rather too rough, and some of them clearly had no idea what to say to a weeping woman.
(“Don’t fret, there’s a chance he’s not dead,” being an example of one gem that was offered as solace.)
“I’m sorry,” I said when I was able, wiping away my tears and snot and whatnot as discreetly as possible with the back of my hand, until Jim offered me his handkerchief.
1 “I’ve been trying to keep track of the days, but without a calendar, they must have bled together more than I realized.
I thought there was still so much time . . .”
“No worries, lass,” Rumbeard told me fondly. “We can find you a razor before then.”
Ah, yes. That would probably be . . . wise. Not that the state of my grooming was my highest concern as I was about to be potentially, finally reunited with Ursa. But if I’m being entirely honest, it wasn’t the lowest, either.
“I think I should . . .” I gestured in the direction of the quarters. “I’ll need to plan and think and . . . plan.”
“Come on, Doc.” Orion appeared at my side. “I’ll walk you back . . .”
My mind was in such tumult that there was no space left for any of my earlier fretting about Orion. I would have to nip things in the bud with him, and quickly, so there was no confusion on where anything stood.
Though I suspected he had something on his mind, which is why he’d offered to walk me back, I turned to him as soon as we were in the corridor and out of hearing distance from the other men. “I don’t love you,” I told him firmly.
Orion wince-smiled, not quite meeting my gaze as he turned and began walking again, forcing me to hurry to catch up to him. “I know. I heard you the first time.”
“You did?” I frowned at him. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you keep walking me places and writing me poetry?”
He shrugged, but I sensed his answer was not nearly so insouciant as his body language suggested. “Can’t help what you feel. I can’t stop myself from wanting you anymore than you could stop yourself from loving Ursa.”
That softened me, more than I would have expected.
I searched his face, realizing he wasn’t a threat to me, simply someone whose emotions had taken him unawares.
And I suppose, I didn’t mind his company.
I thought he was intriguingly mysterious, occasionally funny, and even rather handsome, to a boring non-mod like me. If there had been no Ursa . . .
But there was no use even playing that game. There was an Ursa, and it would feel like death to my heart to open it, even a little, to anyone else.
Instead, I lightened my tone, hoping to inject some levity into the conversation. “So you admit there is an Ursa, and I haven’t been making up this entire story?”
Orion gave a crooked smile, as if it had been tugged out of him against his will. “I expect there’s probably a person with that name, sure. Whether he’s a noble wildman with the body of an Adonis and a heart of gold? I’m still skeptical.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to be eating crow once you meet him, I’m afraid—”
Orion caught my arm before I could go too far, his face suddenly and intensely earnest. “I guess you don’t need me telling you the chances aren’t good that this thing has a happy ending. I would guard my heart a little more if I were you, Doc.”
He meant well, I knew. It was far more pragmatic to assume that the last time I’d seen Ursa was the last time I would ever see him.
But I couldn’t let it be true, not even for a moment, in my mind or in my heart. I had to believe that Ursa was still alive, that I would find him again.
And I will find you again, my love. I’m so close now. I’m on my way to you now. In a jumpsuit two sizes too big, flea-bitten, and snarled hair well overdue for a trim. None of that matters if I can rescue you. I’m coming, my love. Hold on just a little bit longer. We will be together again.
1. What an odd, quaint thing for him to have.