Authors: Rebecca Hart
A harsh laugh burst from her. “More? Yeah, I guess. Like more pretty dresses, more years sequestered away at boarding school, more time at home with Mama, waiting for him to come back.” Her stomach churned. “Or maybe more potential husbands, more wasting away locked on land? More of what Papa wanted. Never what I wanted. I had to leave. He left me no choice.” Was she trying to convince Daniel, or herself?
Her ire spent, a sense of wariness washed over Ellie. “I miss him.” Her shoulders slumped and the tears she’d held back all day finally crested the dam of her defenses, sliding hot trails down her cheeks.
Before she could register movement, Daniel’s strong arms and rich cinnamon scent surrounded her. The heat of his body seeped into hers. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Ellie laid her cheek against his hard chest. She closed her tired eyes and let herself sink into the comfort of his protective embrace.
***
“I tried to save him, Ellie. I swear to God I did.” Daniel had been unable to stop himself from reaching for her when she gave in to her grief. But he’d been unprepared for his own body’s reaction to her nearness. His heart rate accelerated and his fingers ached to explore the lithe muscles of her back.
Get hold of yourself.
Her sweet scent, a mix of honeysuckle and lilacs, tickled his nose. Daniel exhaled quickly, as if he could force the intoxicating smell, along with its heady effect, away at his whim. He concentrated on his breathing and slowing his heartbeat. “Don’t worry. We’ll find the pirate that killed your father. I’ll not be forgetting him anytime soon.” He reached down and lifted her chin. His eyes searched hers. “I promise I’ll avenge him.”
Ellie sniffed and swiped at her damp cheeks, fire lighting her blue eyes—eyes so like her father’s. “We’ll need a plan.”
Daniel nodded. “By the way, why did you tell Harris I was Captain Winters’ son?”
Ellie offered a shy smile and stepped from his arms.
His fingers itched to reach for her, pull her back against his chest.
Does she have to look so good in men’s breeches?
“Captain Harris knew and respected my father. If he thinks you’re his son, there’s much less chance he’ll keep
The Siren’s Call
and risk repercussions from Papa’s allies. You know as well as I how well-connected my father was. On both sides of the law.”
“Harris agreed to lend me another half dozen hands to get us back to Newquay. I think you should select the others. You know them all, have lived and worked beside them. Who better to know who will aid us the most?”
A smile lit her face, sending a jolt of warmth through his body.
“I can take care of that, but I only plan to bring one of them with us when we head out again to chase down the corsair dog that killed my father. We’ll use our own men for that.”
Daniel quirked a brow. “Our men?”
Ellie’s eyes flashed sapphire. “For now,
Captain
O’Roarke, I need you. Papa’s men won’t take orders from me, even if they knew who I really was.” She settled herself on the cushioned chair behind the giant desk. “So, yes,
our
men.”
The ornate throne dwarfed her, reminding Daniel of the little girl he’d seen storm the beach to greet her father over ten years ago. Even then, he’d been drawn to her, wanted to protect her.
She flipped through the layers of paperwork stacked on the desk, lifting a pile and looking beneath it before setting it back down. She picked up another.
“What are you looking for?”
Ellie continued with her search, brow furrowed. She yanked open a drawer, rummaged through it. “His journal. Papa always kept a log.”
“Bottom drawer on the right.” A grin spread across his lips when her head shot up, brows raised. He shrugged. “I’ve worked for your father a long time.”
She leaned down and opened the bottom drawer. Ellie removed a thin leather-bound book and dropped it on the desk. She smoothed a hand over the surface, eyes taking on a faraway look.
Daniel studied her bowed head as she opened the book with delicate fingers. Even with her flaming red locks cropped short, she was breathtaking. How could anyone mistake her for a boy? “What do you think you’ll find in there?”
“Nothing specific…something…everything.” She didn’t bother to look up from the journal. “I just have to read it.”
He could find no fault in her logic, only in her timing. “Can you read it after we select the men from Harris’s crew? I’m anxious to cast off and get underway.”
Ellie glanced up. Her cheeks reddened. “Oh. Yes, of course.” She closed the logbook and rose from the chair. Coming around the desk, she bowed with a flourish. “After you, Captain.”
Daniel stiffened at the words, but relaxed when he caught her teasing smile.
The journey back to Newquay would be interesting, indeed.
Chapter Thirteen
Once Ellie selected the men who’d sail with them back to Newquay, Captain Harris and the rest of his crew returned to
The Surf Runner
. They cast off the tether lines connecting the two vessels. She watched from the bulwark as the ship she’d called home for the last five years sailed away.
“Do you plan to tell these folks who you really are? Or are we going to pretend that Daniel fellow is really the captain’s brood?” Nelson joined her at the rail, his dark eyes reflecting the worry lacing his voice.
Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Why not? They don’t know us, and Papa’s crew respects Daniel. Besides, if I tell them who I am, they’ll just leave me behind in Newquay after rattling off some nonsense about women aboard being bad luck. If my own father couldn’t accept my being on this ship, I doubt a bunch of old set-in-their-ways sea salts will.”
Nelson glanced across the deck to where Daniel stood talking with a group of crewmembers. “Does he know the truth?”
“Aye, but not because I told him. He recognized me when I released their men from the brig.”
“Are you sure he can be trusted not to tell the others about you?”
Ellie nodded. “He won’t reveal my identity.” Daniel respected her father and would do what he could to help her because Papa would have expected nothing less.
“So what’s the plan, then?”
The question made her chuckle.
Damned if I know.
“We head back to Newquay and get the ship repaired. I need to tell Mama, of course.” A task Ellie wasn’t looking forward to. “Mama will be lost without him.”
Nelson placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll know what to say when you see her. I’m sure having you home will help to soften the blow. You’ve grown into a woman since she last saw you.”
Ellie pushed away from the rail, not quite ready to face what awaited her when she returned home. She needed something to distract her thoughts. “I’m going to see what I can learn from Papa’s logbook. Maybe there’s something in there we can use. At the very least, I should be able to determine what Papa was doing when they were attacked.”
“As good a plan as any,” Nelson said. “Good luck.”
Ellie had to stop herself from giving him a big bear hug. Having his support meant the world to her. In the years she’d known Nelson, he’d become not only her mentor and instructor, but her closest friend and ally. She cleared her throat and gave him a light punch to the shoulder. “Thanks, Nelson. I’ll let you know if I find anything worthwhile.”
Drawing as little attention to herself as possible, Ellie worked her way along the deck to her father’s cabin. Her fingers hesitated on the door handle. She took a deep breath, set her shoulders, and pushed her way back into Papa’s domain.
She kept her gaze from wandering the room, instead focusing her attention on the logbook lying on the desk.
Stick to the task. Don’t get distracted.
Ellie settled herself in Papa’s chair and flipped through the pages to the last entry. The day Papa died. September twenty-first.
Where was I that day?
Not where I should have been.
Her chest ached.
Steeling herself for what she might find, Ellie read the scribbled entry. The writing blurred as the tears returned, threatening to spill their burden onto the parchment.
21st September 1665 - Dawn
Setting sail from Gibraltar this morning with calm seas and fair winds out of the east. Rendezvous with Keegan’s band yielded a new avenue for acquiring tea from India, and fresh information on the whereabouts of The Surf Runner. Aborted meet with J, will revisit once the house is in order.
Ellie’s eyes widened.
How could Papa have known I sailed with Harris?
Did he know I’d become a pirate?
The idea settled like a lead ball in her stomach. Sighing, Ellie resumed reading.
Vessel reported to have only a day’s lead on us, with their last known heading due west along the coast. Reports of a crewmember aboard matching Ellie’s description still unsubstantiated.
She gnawed her lower lip. Ellie searched her memory but couldn’t recall the mention of anyone named Keegan. Papa had been hot on their tail, only a day behind them when he’d been killed. She swallowed hard.
If it hadn’t been for me, he’d never have been there to be attacked.
Ellie slid the skullcap from her head and ran her fingers through her hair. A swell of guilt threatened to overwhelm her. She focused on her anger and the faceless pirate bastard who’d killed him, her fingers curling into tight fists.
In a sudden burst of energy, she leaned across the desk, a growl bursting from her throat. Ellie unleashed her rage, sweeping the desk clear of paperwork, and sending the mountainous pile crashing against the wall. Her chest heaved.
Papa’s spyglass spun on the clutter-free desk like a pinwheel, sending a tiny wooden figurine skittering into her lap.
Ellie picked up the piece, studied it. The miniature driftwood carving of a whale reminded her of the carving her injured seal had found on the beach near her home. The resemblances between the whale and her seal miniature in size, wood coloring, and style couldn’t be a coincidence. Her brow furrowed. Had Papa made it?
She couldn’t remember ever seeing her father carve driftwood, and the tiny replicas had been created by someone with a more than modest level of skill. Ellie slipped the little whale figurine into her pocket and pushed up from the chair. A more detailed comparison of the two carvings would come later, when she had the chance to retrieve the other from her pack.
Stepping over the pile of scattered papers, Ellie headed for the hatch. She needed to speak with Daniel. It was time he came clean about a few things.
Ellie found her new captain at the helm speaking with a weathered seaman named Jacobs. A coil of heat unfurled in her stomach.
He stood a least a foot taller than the white-haired helmsman, but that wasn’t the only reason Daniel was easy to spot. The brisk winds played havoc with his hair, tossing the chestnut locks around his angular face with unmitigated delight. The pair bent over a chart of some kind. Daniel pointed to a spot, drawing her attention to the flex of his muscled arm, the way it strained against his light linen shirt. He brushed brown fringe from his eyes, catching sight of her.
Their gazes met, sending a shiver of fire down Ellie’s spine. She groaned.
Try to remember you’re mad at him.
Ellie lifted her chin a notch.
Daniel said something to Jacobs, rolled up the chart and waved her over.
She took a deep breath and crossed the deck with confident strides.
His firm lips curled into a warm smile when she reached him. “We should make Newquay by the end of the month. Most of the damage to the ship is superficial, but I have a crew working on the hole in the port side. If we catch foul weather we’ll be sorry we didn’t see to it when we had the chance.”
“I agree. Where’s Nelson?” She tilted her head back and squinted upward. “He up in the nest?”
“I put him in charge of the repairs. The other men you brought along seem to respect him.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And you trust him.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Implicitly.”
Daniel smiled, but this one didn’t quite reach his beautiful brown eyes. “Good. If you have a free moment, I think there are some things we still need to discuss.”
Ellie nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, Captain O’Roarke.”
***
Daniel followed Ellie back to her father’s cabin. He had to force his gaze away from the gentle sway of her slender hips in the form-fitting breeches she wore. How could anyone mistake her for a boy? Even after years at sea, her scent was purely feminine. Completely Ellie.
He ducked through the hatch. Taking a deep breath, he shut the door and turned to face her. She stood in front of an empty desk; the papers and books once covering it lay scattered about the floor.
Ellie shrugged and folded her arms. She leaned her bottom against the desk, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Unfavorable trade winds.”
He arched a brow. “Indeed.” Unsure of how best to broach the unpleasant subjects they needed to discuss, he twisted his fingers together and studied the floorboards. Knowing how volatile and unpredictable her temper could be only made matters more difficult.
Just spit it out.
“I can’t allow you to bunk with the men, Ellie.”
The light left her eyes. Not a good sign.
She jumped to attention. “What ma–”
He held up his hands. “Before you blow that simmering temper of yours, hear me out.”
Ellie settled back down on the edge of the desk, arms folded. “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I’ll be happy to listen to you tell me why you think you have a right to decide what I do or where I sleep. You have my complete attention.”
Daniel sighed. “Okay, have it your way. I have the right because I’m the captain of this vessel and I say so.”
“Are you joking? I’m the one that got you this ship.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. I know you better than that, Ellie. You got me this ship because it suited your purposes to do so. If it hadn’t, I’ve no doubt you would have left me in the dirty cell you found me in.”