Carried Home (14 page)

 

Gage rubbed his temples. Ever since the battle and his injuries, he suffered terrible headaches. However, it was a joy to be sitting in an upright position with his mind in a mostly clear state. Ivy had refused to allow him to do much standing or walking so far, but during the times she was absent from the cabin, he would rise and pace back and forth. It was a strange feeling, walking after being bed-ridden for so many days. His legs felt as if they belonged to someone else. He had been doing a lot of practicing, too, because Ivy was away from the cabin fairly often.

It still shocked him that the little woman had practically taken over his role as captain of the ship while he was indisposed. He had no idea how she had garnered the respect of his crew, but apparently she had. The lady was a complete mystery to him at times.
His thoughts slowed as a child's giggle filled the air. Emma. The sweet girl sat in the corner of the cabin, playing with his sextant. She practically grew more each minute of the day.

He crouched beside the child and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. At times, he forgot that sudden movements disoriented him. A tiny hand wrapped around his wrist. Gage smiled. “Hello, sweetie.”

“Hello, Papa!” Her youthful chatter filled the cabin with warmth.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Gage couldn't bring himself to correct the child. Of course, he should have long ago. He was not the girl's father, and unlikely he ever would be. However, Emma calling him “Papa” tugged at a bit of his heart. He'd never actually taken care of someone this dependent on him before. The responsibility of caring for his sister had fallen on his young shoulders, but in all reality, they were close in age, and once they had joined Caspian's family, she was not entirely his anymore. Emma was so special to him…she seemed like…well, she seemed like she truly
was
his own child. It only seemed right for her to call him her father. Then again, the fact that the child called Ivy her “Mama” only added to the pleasure of the situation.

Emma launched herself into Gage's arms, causing him to reel to catch his balance. His side still throbbed, but the pain was not the child's fault by any means. Gasping for breath, he set the girl aside gently. Her face puckered up and a low whine emanated from her throat. Finally, just as she opened her mouth to produce a full wail, the door burst open.

Ivy stumbled in, yanking off a tri-corn hat and wiping sweat from her brow. That was
his
hat. The little thief. He grinned. Her copper hair tumbled over her shoulders in waves. Sunlight sprinkled in from the porthole of his cabin and reflected off her tresses. He wanted to touch them.

She blinked. He had been caught staring. Heat rushed to his cheeks. He had to distract her. “H-how are things going, Miss Captain? Is my crew treating you well?”

His comment elicited a curve of her lips. “I'm not even remotely a captain, Gage. You are being silly.”

Gage rose, stretching out his shoulders. It felt good to be standing on his own two feet once more. “Well, you have been doing much of my job these past few days. I would say that makes you a captain. Faith, how did you manage to control my band of ruffians?”

“I've no idea, Captain. I suppose God helped me through it. The men still do not seem pleased, but they are sailing us to Charles Town with nary a complaint.” She reached a hand up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The woman performed the simple act with such grace that he had to blink to be sure he was seeing correctly. Yes, she was a true lady, that much was certain. One a pirate like him did not deserve, but one a pirate like him desperately wanted to keep.

He needed to stop thinking like that. Surely she didn't truly care about him anyway. “How long until we reach Charles Town, Miss Captain?”

“I asked Mr. Douglas yesterday. He says the men believe we will reach the port by tomorrow afternoon if the winds are in our favor.”

A grin tugged at his lips in anticipation of seeing Addie. Oh, how he missed her. “Do you have any siblings other than your little William?” He suddenly felt incessantly curious about this lady.

She gave him a small, sad quirk of her lips. “No, sir. I wish I did. Then mayhap someone else could help me make sure he was safe. I grew up as an only child for most of my life.”

“Ah, miss. I know your young brother is very precious to you. I assure you he must be safe, though. I know God would not let anything happen to him.”

She blew out a breath, sitting down on the chair next to his bed. “You must be right. However, I find myself struggling to trust. I have always been one to want to control my own destiny, to do everything I needed done by myself. I suppose I have trouble trusting others.” Her shoulders shook.

Gage's mind refused to help him determine a reply. He needed to comfort her. He felt like a big, bumbling idiot. How dare he bring up a topic like this when it obviously pained her to think about it?

“Oh, you must think me a ninny.” She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I am sorry, Captain. I need to go do something…outside. Good day.” She spun around and headed for the door.

“Ivy, wait!” Gage braced his arms on the bed, trying to rise. His head spun, but he jumped to his feet anyway.

Her face crumpled. “I am fine, Captain. Please don't follow me. I need some time to myself.” She swung herself out of the cabin and banged the door behind her.

Gage lowered himself back down onto the bed and covered his face with his hands. Egad, he had not meant to upset her.
Please, God, help me understand how to help this lady. She needs to trust in You. I need to trust in You as well.

He uncovered his face and surveyed the cabin. His gaze halted on his desk, where his Bible sat. An idea formed in his mind.
Thank You, Father.

****

Ivy cringed at the way the cabin door slammed behind her. She glanced to her left, down the companionway. It would probably be a good idea to run to the privacy of her cabin, but she could not bear to be confined in that tiny place. In fact, being stuck on this cramped ship had begun to grate on her nerves. She needed air.

She swung to the left, towards the main deck. The cool sea breeze slapped her face. Her hair loosened from its coiffure and whipped around her face.
God, help me. Help me.
But her prayer seemed empty, and lacking in conviction. Since when had she been so poor at praying?

Mayhap always. It seemed as if she only prayed to God when she needed something. When was the last time she had read a Bible?

Ivy made her way to the bow, absently nodding at Gage's men as they hailed her.

The ship dipped, causing sea foam to mingle with the tears on her cheeks.

What is wrong with me?

Could she not simply trust in God to take care of her brother as Gage had insisted? And what about Emma? What would become of her? The thought caused fresh moisture to run out of her eyes.

No…no…

Could a Lord who allowed Emma to be abandoned by her own mother care enough about the child to provide a home for her? What about the Lord who allowed her best friend Eden to be repeatedly abused by her own fiancé?

Ivy cringed at these extreme thoughts. Her faith had certainly deteriorated from what it had once been.

Shock struck her body, making her feel almost as if she could not move. What a terrible person she had become.

However, despite all of the tragedies that had befallen her and her friends, good things occurred as well. Ivy had met wonderful people like Gage and Emma. The crew had begun to obey her orders as if she truly was their captain, and they were finally back on track after all of the struggles they had seen. Nausea bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

The ship dipped again. Ivy swung her arms about to keep her balance. She leaned down to a crouch and stared at the water swirling below her. A wave of nausea swept through her body, and before she could calm herself, she spilled the contents of her stomach into the sea.

A hand rested on her shoulder in a brotherly manner. A glance over her shoulder revealed the half-gnarled face of Adam.

How could God allow this man to lose so much, to even lose his handsome face?
Adam was a good man. He did not deserve the cards he had been dealt.

“Ivy, calm down.”

She inhaled deeply. It was hard to take a full breath. Her heart pounded violently against her chest.
Her head swung back and forth. She could not breathe.

“Ivy, your face is bright red. You've been crying!” His arm circled around her and he helped her up from her crouching position on the deck.

“Lady Ivy Shaw, you need to breathe. Come here. Let's get to your cabin.”

Tears sprung from her eyes yet again. She let him help her across the deck, down the companionway, to her cabin, and onto her bed. Her head was light. Everything spun.

Adam leaned over her, a furrow in his brow. “Ivy, I need you to calm down. You are fine. Everything is fine.” He held her hand in his, and with his other, wiped at her forehead.

“No…it is not okay. I'm beginning to think God does not care about any of us.”

His hand stilled. “Ivy, you should never say such things.”

“I don't care.” Finally, her breathing stilled to a normal pace. She glanced around the cabin before her gaze rested on Adam once again. He seemed truly concerned. She could not stand it. “Please leave, Adam. I need to rest.”

He grimaced as he straightened to his full height. “Yes, milady.” Adam left the cabin, silently shutting the door behind him.

Ivy rolled on her side, buried her face into her pillow, and sobbed herself to sleep.

****

A shiver iced down Addie's spine as she sat in the dining room of a local tavern. She had been eating here for weeks—Mr. Faulke did not provide her meals nor a place to cook them—and she felt uncomfortable at every meal. This tavern was far too close to the docks for her liking, and it was a long walk from the milliner's shop. The customers were mostly unruly sailors. The men eyed her like she was a piece of meat.

Addie bit into her spoonful of stew and glanced out the side of her eye at the man to her right. He stared at her.

“M-may I help you, sir?”

The man was a pirate, by the looks of it. An intimidating one, possessing a long, scraggly beard, earring, colorfully mismatched outfit, and horrible stench. She inched away from him until she was sitting on the far side of her seat.

He grunted and lowered his gaze for a moment. The second she looked away, she could feel his eyes on her again. “Please, sir, I must ask that you leave me alone. You are making me uncomfortable.”

That elicited a rude chuckle, revealing a mouthful of rotting teeth. “I'm makin' ye uncomfortable, wench? No worries, I can easily show ye how t' be very comfortable.” He reached for her, and she rose abruptly. The dishes on the table jingled.

“You are overly forward, sir. I must demand you leave me alone.”

He laughed and rose as well, lurching toward her. His steel hand gripped her shoulder. She jerked from his grasp, but his strength sent her tumbling over her chair. The wretched man caught her with a better grip. Addie attempted to butt at him with her head, but his hands held her at arm's length. “Release me at once, sir!”

“Nay, milady, methinks ye just need to cooperate an' you'll be very happy.”

Her pulse rose. She needed to escape this man at once.

Her eyes scanned the room for a weapon, anything she could use to defend herself.

Some men in the room observed her situation with mild interest or boredom. Others ignored her completely. Violently, the man tugged on her shoulder, drawing her closer. He leaned near her neck and inhaled deeply. The women in the room, barmaids, eyed her with pity, but did nothing to interfere.

“Let! Me! Go!” Yet again, Addie tried to free herself from his grasp. Her struggles were met with a laugh as he pulled her closer yet.

He swung her around and leaned down, eyeing her lips. She spat in his face. As the saliva in his eyes disoriented him, she braced herself and jerked her knee upwards. A low moan and her sudden release told her she had met her target. Addie did not stay to observe the consequences. She flung a coin on the table for her meal and sped out of the tavern. This was the last time she would be dining in this
fine establishment.

****

Adam pounded on his captain's door.

“Who is it?”
The man's voice sounded as barely a whisper above Emma's soft snoring.

“Adam, sir.”

“Come in. It's unlocked.”

Adam let himself in. The cabin was gloomy in the light of the setting sun. Captain Thompson sat at his desk, his Bible in front of him. He held a quill in one hand and was steadying a piece of parchment with the other. After a moment, the man glanced up from his work. “Yes, Mr. Douglas?”

“I-I am concerned, Captain.”

Gage stopped his work and set his quill down. “Concerned? About what, my good man?”

Adam tore his hat from his head and passed it back and forth between his hands. “Lady Shaw, sir. She does not seem well.”

Gage's face darkened immediately. “Aye? What do you mean?”

“I found her on the bow, sobbing. She seemed to be in great turmoil, and I am concerned for her. If anyone could do her good, I believe it would be you, Captain.”

The captain rose. “Where is she now? I must make sure she is all right.”

“She is in her cabin, but she practically fell asleep while I was there. She should not take a visitor right now.”