A Pirate's Possession (18 page)

She pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly feeling sick. He'd come back the day of the solstice. The day before her wedding.

She faced him then. “Why didn't you come find me?”

“To what purpose?” he asked, holding his hands out. “I couldn't bear to watch you give yourself to another.”

“If you'd come, I never would have married him.” The truth of that had sorrow burning the back of her still raw throat.

Nate angled his head. “Did you not care for him?”

“I hated him,” Claire spit, letting her tears run unfettered.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widened. “Then why in blazes did you marry him?”

The truth was dangerous ground for Claire. Nate had implied once, back on his ship, that she was a whore for sailing the Caribbean with various crews. She wanted to believe he hadn't meant it, but if she told him why she married and what had happened afterward, would it only convince him that was indeed what she was? Claire was ashamed enough of what she'd done without having his disgust laid onto hers.

Claire wiped her cheeks, drying her palms on her pants.

“It was something I had to do.”

“Claire, nobody
has
to marry anyone they don't want to.”

His shoulders, so wide and strong, moved with his troubled breaths. His eyes were two emeralds set into a face that had no equal. Little white lines spread from the corners of his beautiful eyes. She'd never seen a more handsome man. And once, he'd been hers. But he wasn't any longer.

He was wealthy, she was poor. Once they found the treasure, Nate would return to his fancy ship while she took her money and went back to the place where her life had fallen apart. Though it helped to know he hadn't lied, that he had loved her, it didn't change the present. And it certainly didn't mean there was a future for them.

“We should get back to the treasure.”

His eyes latched on to hers, and in them she saw that he wanted to understand her choices, but that he was struggling. His hands rubbed over the stubble that darkened his cheeks and chin.

“Not until you talk to me.”

“Nate, we've already lost half a day. We need to get going.”

He crossed his arms. “You didn't stop me when I kissed you.”

“No.”

“Are you sorry about that?”

She shook her head. She'd never be sorry she'd kissed him.

“Then why won't you talk to me? What happened to your husband? Where is he?”

Claire expelled a heavy breath. “I don't know.”

He arched a brow. “You don't know where your husband is and you're kissing another man?”

“It's complicated!” she yelled, something she was immediately sorry for when her throat burned in protest.

“I'm not daft. I'm sure if you tell me, I can make sense of it.”

Claire threw up her hands. “There's no point in telling you. It'll do nothing but hurt us both.”

“You're sure of that, are you? You've been around me so much these last years you know how I think?”

His anger caught like wildfire and soon it was thrumming through Claire as well. She'd been forced into enough situations in her life; she wasn't about to get pushed into another.

“I don't pretend to know what you think and feel, but neither will I discuss this anymore. It's in the past, Nate, and that's where I want to keep it.”

His eyes glittered. “One thing about the past you don't seem to be able to leave behind is this lack of faith in me.”

He turned, and grabbed the shovels. Soon the jungle wrapped around him and he disappeared from view. Claire took a moment to steel herself before following.

They worked in a pattern established by exchanging nothing more than curt nods and crisp sentences. Every inch of shoreline, every jut of rock, was explored for some kind of marked waterline.

Claire didn't protest when Nate offered to be the one to swim out to the outcrop of rock and for that he was thankful. Not only did it save them from arguing, but he was still so angry at her that he didn't particularly want to be near her.

Taking a breath and plunging under the water, Nate looked through the bubbles his disturbance caused. Fish of the brightest colors swam nearby. Yellow, blue, some with a flash of red. They were bold and swam alongside him as he skimmed his hands over rocks and pushed fingers through the sand on which the rocks rested.

Underwater was silent and beautiful but he knew a sense of loss that he wasn't able to share it with Claire. Annoyed, he pushed to the surface and filled his lungs again before disappearing below. This time he concentrated harder on his task, but the only thing he got for his efforts was a nick on his palm from a sharp piece of coral. The only thing shiny he spotted was a shell or two.

He resurfaced with a flick of his head that sent droplets of water flying from his hair and landing with tiny little ripples in the teal sea.

“Nothing?”

Nate trudged ashore, where he'd left his shirt and boots. His pants were rolled to the knees but still dragged on his waist as he walked. He sat on the sand and rested his forearms on his bent knees. Squinting against the sun, he could already feel its heat dry the water from his shoulders.

“I can't help but feel we're wasting time looking at every rock we come across.”

“I've been searching the shore, but I can't find any marked waterlines.” She sat beside Nate, though not too close, he noticed. “Could it be it's been erased by time?”

He shrugged. “Anything's possible.”

He looked at the horizon, at the endless expanse of sea, and hoped Vincent was faring better than they were.

“It's not a large island. Even with checking every bit of shoreline, we'll have gone all around in another day or two.”

He came to his feet, wiping sand from his backside. “Then let's hope we find something before then.”

 

 

Sweat dripped down Claire's back. Her feet itched from the heat but she didn't dare take off her boots or her feet would burn. The sand glistened white, but she knew it was anything but cool. Shore birds took flight as they approached, then swooped down and alighted on the beach behind them.

The sea was calm and the waves tumbled in sleepily. Humidity hung in the air, thick as molasses and just as sticky. Her eyes burned from searching for any kind of marker. She wasn't even sure what she should look for. A carving in stone, a crop of rock? It could have simply been a handful of stones that had been laid down on the sand and since been swept to sea.

In all the years of searching for the treasure, she didn't remember ever being this frustrated. Nor this discouraged.

Of course, that could have as much to do with Nate as it did with the treasure. He popped out of the water then, looked at her, and shook his head. He hadn't found anything.

Sighing, Claire moved along. They were approaching a rocky point of the island where a finger of sand jutted out from the knuckles of rock. Intrigued, Claire increased her pace.

It wasn't a long piece of land, nor a particularly wide one. It was perhaps the width of Nate's ship and twice its length. Claire walked onto it, then across to its tip. From the corner of her eye she saw Nate dive underwater, aiming in her direction. She smiled sadly. As much as she wanted one, she had no intention of asking for the swimming lesson he'd offered.

Claire stopped when sand met sea. Before her was nothing but water and glimpses of islands in the distance. Claire looked from her right, from where Nate was swimming toward her, to her left.

Rocks, hundreds of them piled high, rose from the sea as though a giant had used them as dice and dumped them on the ground to fall as they may. And there, among those rocks, she saw it.

“A cave!” she yelled. Her stomach soared and she jumped along with it. “Nate!” she called, waving her arms when his head came up from the water. “Nate! I found a cave!”

He hesitated only a second, then his grin spread wide and he dove under again. Soon he was back on the surface, using long strokes to close the distance. Her belly did a little flutter at the sight of such grace and strength.

He was at her side in minutes. “Show me.”

She took his hand and pointed with her other. “Over there. See it?”

Claire's excitement shimmered on the air. He felt the energy of it transfer from her hand to his and up his arm. Still, he'd learned with time it was best to be cautious and he forced his own excitement back.

“I see it. And it's a good spot to hide a treasure, but don't get ahead of yourself, Claire. I don't see a marked waterline, do you?”

She released his hand. “You said yourself markings could have faded since then.”

“And they could have, I'm not disputing that.”

“Well, then, do you want to discuss possibilities, or do you want to see if the treasure is there?”

He grinned despite himself. “Let's go.”

She was off almost before he finished his sentence. She eased onto the rocks, keeping crouched and using her hands for balance. Nate looked down at his bare feet and wished he had his boots with him. Not that he'd take the time to go back for them, not when there was the very real chance they'd finally find the treasure.

He followed her across the slick rocks while trying to avoid the sharper ones that could slice his feet open. They both slipped a few times, and each had a few scrapes along their forearms to show for their troubles. Nate knew she didn't feel hers any more than he felt his.

They made it to the mouth of the cave.

“Good thing it's low tide,” Nate said, tracing the narrow, slightly gouged line on the rocks above his head, “or we wouldn't have seen it, let alone be able to get inside.”

“Nate!” Claire said, grabbing his arm. “It's a marked waterline.”

His heart raced, but he took a moment to look at Claire, with her eyes shining and her smile nearly as blinding as the sun. Regardless of their past or future, there was nobody he'd have rather shared this moment with.

“Ready?”

“Come on.” She laughed and shoved at his back. “I can't wait any longer!”

There were enough gaps between the rocks to cast light within the cave. It wasn't bright, but at least they weren't moving in total darkness. Not a high cave, even Claire had to bend over. Nate had to bend nearly in half.

The cave itself was quite long, and if the light was any indication, it veered right at the end.

“Stay close,” Nate said as he began to move, the water only deep enough to cover his feet. “There may be sharp drop-offs anywhere.”

She didn't argue, enabling Nate to concentrate on the terrain instead of worrying about her. They moved slowly, looking into every crevice. Barnacles clung to the cave walls and shells crunched underneath their movements. A few cut into his feet.

“Nate, the map said ‘at the turn'! This is it!” Light dimmed a little more as they made their way around the bend.

They rounded the corner and the ceiling of the cave rose to allow them to stand their full height. Before them, before the wall that marked the end of the cave, were three small chests.

“That can't be it,” Claire said, looking around. “The treasure on the
Santa Francesca
was substantial. It couldn't only be three chests!”

Nate frowned. Claire was right, it didn't make sense. He'd of course done some of his own digging in the last few years and everything he'd gathered had closely matched what Claire knew. The treasure was famous because it was one of the largest ever to leave Nombre de Dios.

“Doesn't seem right,” he agreed. “But it did say, ‘thrice to fail,' and there are three chests here. It's got to mean something, Claire.”

He scuttled forward, pulling his knife from the sheath he kept tied to his belt. He tried to pry the chests open but the locks wouldn't give, and no amount of battering at them with his knife helped.

“We'll have to take them with us,” he said. He tried to lift one but was barely able to get it off the ground. “I'll need your help.”

They each grabbed an end and soon their labored breaths echoed off the cave walls as they made slow progress back to the mouth of the cave. They left the chest there for the moment and went back for the other two. Only after all three chests were at the mouth of the cave did they begin to move the first one to the beach.

“This better be worth it,” Claire grumbled when her knuckles scraped the rocks.

Each taking a side, though most often Claire's dragged on the ground, they maneuvered one chest over the rocks and to the beach. They dropped it gladly as they were already exhausted and the sun was a scorching fire on their already overheated skin. Without taking time to do more than catch their breath, they went back for the others.