10. Some Necessary Arr and Arr #2
I smile to myself, focusing on the loaf of bread before me.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” Still, I can’t help but think of the blue coat, of escaping back to my time, to the place where I belong.
I think of Louise, of how she must have panicked when they searched the ship and found no trace of me.
As much as I enjoy some aspects of this life, I don’t belong here.
Pip hums quietly to himself, working the knife easily through the meat.
Sir doesn’t stray far, snatching small pieces of the meat that Pip offers up to him without a second thought.
Pip just laughs, scratching Sir’s chin each time he does it.
And there’s some comfort in it. All my life, I’ve struggled to find a place I belong.
I left Portland for London, and London for a suitcase, and even after seeing half the world, I’ve never found a place that I can call home.
I’ve closed myself off to romantic entanglements, unwilling to trust anyone else after Julian.
His face pops into my mind, soft and boyish.
Chestnut-brown hair with gleaming hazel eyes that dragged you in, making it impossible to look away.
Julian looked trustworthy. He looked like someone who’d keep my secrets.
He didn’t.
And ever since, I haven’t felt at home anywhere.
Despite the difficulties of a life at sea, the pain, and the dangers of being a part of this pirate crew, there is something I do love about it, something that I’ve been missing all these years.
It feels like home. The crew laughs and drinks and spends time with one another with the kind of ease I’ve only dreamed of.
They work as a team and help each other.
And it can be fun when you’re not told to scrub the entirety of the ship and your hands aren’t bleeding constantly.
There’s something new and exhilarating about being here, but is it enough?
Is he enough?
The thought slips through.
Is the universe trying to tell me something? Have I been sent back in time because, of everything I’ve always longed for, my true wish was always to go on an adventure? To be a part of something? To find someone to share it all with?
“Yer doing that thing again,” Pip says, waving his free hand at my face.
I reach up and touch my chin. “What?”
“Yer smiling.”
I snort and nudge him before raising the knife above the bread. But before I can cut, we both hear the word we’ve all been longing for.
“Land!” someone calls from the top deck.
Pip nods to the stairs before I can get a word out. “Better head up. Mick’ll be looking for ye.” I wipe my hands on my pants and start to go. “Laszlo,” Pip says, stopping me in my tracks.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful out there. Nassau isn’t to be messed with.”
Nodding, I hurry up to the main deck. The crew is scattered across the ship, hauling lines and making final preparations.
Most of them have changed, pulling on cleaner pressed clothes.
They’re not extravagant by any means, but they’re not in stained loose shirts and plain britches anymore.
I sidle up next to Mick, who’s now wearing a crisp navy-blue shirt and tan britches.
“Why’s everyone dressed up?” I ask, taking the offered line.
“We’ve been wearing these clothes for weeks,” Mick says. “Not many will take us seriously on the island looking like that.”
I glimpse Jack, Captain Night, and Astra at the helm, heads bent over a small piece of parchment just far enough from the wheel that Clancy pretends not to listen in, the other three leaning in conspiratorially.
Jack has changed into a fresh shirt, white and crisp.
Astra is still dressed in their long waistcoat and ragged clothes, but Captain Night’s wearing his blue coat over a clean off-white shirt, the color popping against the deck.
What are they talking about? Does it have something to do with the merchant ship?
Does it have something to do with me? I want to know, need to know what those three are whispering about, but if I make one wrong move, I’m done for, and I will never get back home.
Swallowing hard, I peer past the bow and dark, shimmering water to a narrow strip of land in the distance.
Finally.
“New Providence,” Mick says as he follows my line of sight. “That city there, that’s Nassau.”
“Is it as bad as the rumors say?” I ask, squinting.
“Whatever you’ve heard, it’s worse.”
“Heave to!” Captain Night orders, his voice booming across the ship.
Mick grunts as he tugs on a line. I take the one he nods to, following him exactly and easing up on the line until the sails slacken significantly.
Two people work on the jib sails at the bow, the fabric bunching up until they can tie it down.
To our left and behind us at the mainmast, crew members climb the ratlines before carefully inching onto ropes that are horizontal to each of the sails.
“Strike the mainsail!” Jack calls from the quarterdeck.
“Striking the mainsail!” the crew at the top of the mainmast echo back.
The pirates up on the mainmast begin gathering the mainsail in their hands, bunching up the white fabric with practiced ease, and the ship begins to slow. I was too busy during the raid to see the process, but now that I can, I see there’s a rhythm to the way they work.
“Strike the foresail!” Jack bellows.
“Striking the foresail!” the crew atop the foremast call back, doing the same as the other, bunching up the sail with quick, knowing fingers.
As the sails are pulled up, the lines are loosened. Mick stops beside me, showing me what he calls a clove hitch to secure the line to a post. I loop the rope around the post and pass it through, tugging it tight. Mick double-checks my work, nodding in approval when it doesn’t give.
“Drop anchor!” Jack calls.
One man stops at the capstan. He pulls out a long wooden pin, and the capstan turns on its own, the chain unraveling and the anchor dropping into the water with a splash.
It all happens too fast, and the ship has been moving at just such a speed that when I look out over the bow, palm trees rise over the land, splitting through the night sky.
Several other anchored ships float in the harbor.
It is brilliant, a glittering oasis in the dark, and I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.
Jack stops beside me and hands over the logbook and quill pen. “Welcome to Nassau, New Providence.” He laughs low, hands on his hips as he looks between my eager expression and the dancing lights on land. “I take it from your expression that you’ve never been?”
“Never.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Come,” he says, pointing to where they’re preparing the longboats. “You’re in the first boat with me and the cap’ain.”
I stop to stare out at the harbor for one long moment before following Jack to the boats.
A little over a week ago, I had never been aboard a pirate ship.
Hell, I’d never been aboard anything other than a ferry.
Now, I’m climbing down the side of a pirate ship on swaying rope.
One slip of my foot and into the ocean I’ll go.
I try my best not to think about it, my hands and arms shaking with each movement.
My foot slips on the last rung, but before I can fall, strong hands grasp me around the waist and tug, and I drop the short distance into the boat below before righting myself.
The hands are still there, lingering, and I spin to thank whoever it is, surprised to find Captain Night, inches away.
Clearing his throat, he releases me and drops down onto one of the seats.
I settle across from him, taking up one of the oars and ducking my head.
My whole body feels like it’s on fire, and I can only hope no one noticed.
“You and I will go to the tavern to off some of the ale,” Jack explains to my left, tapping the logbook. “We’ll top up our supplies before ’eading back in the morning.”
My hands burn against the oars, but I grit my teeth and row.
My captain says nothing, but his boot presses against mine like it did under the table that first night.
Our long legs are fighting for space, so it could be an accident, but the feel of his hands and the pressure on my waist only minutes ago linger with intent.
Is this all a game, or can he feel it, too?
As we near the sand, the other men hop out and begin dragging the boat ashore. I clumsily climb out, my boots and pants soaking through as I nearly topple into the wave. I stumble to the shore, my center of gravity seemingly gone from a week aboard a ship.
Captain Night jolts forward and catches me by the elbow. His hand is warm on me, and our eyes meet, waves lapping against our boots as we stand in the shallow water.
I can’t look away. Worse yet, I don’t want to. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, but I don’t want him to let go. I don’t want to steal his coat or go back to my time. I just want to know what this thing between us is, what it could be if I allowed it.
If he wanted it.
When he makes no move, I tug my arm free. “Best get going,” I say, pivoting to follow Jack. I swallow hard as I fight my way up the beach, sand clinging to my wet clothes. I pause and glance back, but Captain Night is nowhere to be seen.