They moved in next to him, each taking a grab hook. All but one who stood frozen near the bow.
“Lewis!” he called. “Come and help.”
The young man didn’t move. His eyes didn’t shift in his ashen face. Blake cursed, but there was nothing he could do at the moment. The
Blue Rose
was within reach of the galleon.
“Stand back,” Blake warned, “we’re coming over.”
The men on board the other ship stepped back and Blake gave the command. Grab hooks arced through the air and dug into the galleon’s side. When the ships were close enough, planks were set down to make walkways between the vessels.
“How’s Nate?” Blake asked when Vincent ran toward him.
“Cursing, so I figure he’s right as rain. Commanded me off the quarterdeck, said if he couldn’t handle the ship, then we may as well shoot him and throw him overboard.” His mouth curved. “I was sorely tempted.”
Smiling, Blake slapped Vincent on the shoulder. “There’ll be time for that later. For now, let’s see what she’s carrying.”
* * *
“Holy mother of God,” Vincent gasped, “do you think they’re all like this?”
Blake was beside him, looking into the barrel they’d pried open. They’d found the treasure room on the lower deck of the galleon. It was chock-full of sealed casks. They lined the walls, were stacked onto each other as much as three high.
He reached in and took out a handful of silver coins. They were both smooth and cool and gleamed in the light from the lantern he held in his other fist.
“We won’t know until we get them aboard the
Blue Rose.”
“We can take that much weight?”
“Our hold is mostly empty. And we don’t have far to go before we arrive in St. Kitts.”
“Is that where we divide the treasure?” someone asked from behind.
Frowning, Blake turned. Seeing Lewis standing there, suddenly looking fit and healthy, with a sparkle in his eye as he looked at what Blake held in his hand, didn’t sit well with Blake.
“What are you doing here? You weren’t given the order to come aboard.”
Lewis shrugged. “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to. Besides, I wanted to see what we captured and how much of it I can expect.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. He passed the lantern to Vincent, which wasn’t a good idea. Considering how much he desired to hit Lewis, he should probably keep his hands full.
“You’ll know when everyone else does, and seeing as how worthless you were during the battle, I wouldn’t be expecting as much as the others.”
“That wasn’t the agreement when I signed on, was it?” he asked, a smug smile on his clean face.
Blake’s heart rate leapt. He was sore and knew he was filthy. Vincent had blood on his face and tears in his clothes. Nate had a goddamn piece of mast sticking out of his leg and this little whelp was standing him down, clean as the day he boarded, demanding an equal share?
“Then feel free to stay with the galleon if you’re not happy with the arrangements, or I’ll give you the longboat and you can get yourself to the nearest port. But I guarantee you this, you will not be seeing what the others will. You have to earn your keep on my ship and you haven’t.”
Lewis’s face went scarlet. Behind him Vincent chuckled. “I think you’ve made him angry, Blake.”
“I scrubbed the deck until my back hurt and I had blisters on my hands. I’ve done everything asked of me, ask your dwarf or the giant, they’ll tell you.”
Blake’s hands curled to fists.
“My men have names and will be addressed with the respect their ranks demand. And you,” he said, pointing a finger at the whelp’s chest, “are done on board the
Blue Rose
as soon as we make port.”
“I was planning on leaving anyway. Everything I need is in St. Kitts.”
Lewis’s smile sent a shiver of foreboding down Blake’s spine. Blake took a steadying breath before he did something truly stupid. This wasn’t the time. He had treasure to move and he’d yet to check on Alicia, though he knew she was fine. None of the shots had pierced a hole in his quarters; he’d checked that immediately before boarding the galleon.
“Now,” Blake continued, “if you want to earn a little more of this, you can help move these barrels.”
Lewis looked around the room and it gave Blake great satisfaction to see his smile fall.
“All of these?”
“Every last one,” Blake added. “Vincent?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“The deck looks to be in poor shape as well, does it not?”
“Indeed it does, Captain. There’s debris everywhere. It’ll take work to clean it up.”
Hatred bloomed in Lewis’s eyes but Blake didn’t mind it. There wasn’t anything Lewis could do to him, and in the meantime seeing the man miserable would go a long way to making Blake’s day brighter.
“Then let’s get to these barrels. Lewis has work to do and it would be a shame to hold him up.”
“I’m fine, dammit,” Nate cursed when Blake insisted he lie down so they could see to his leg.
“Unless you want your leg to be used as a coatrack, you’re not. Now stop being a baby and let’s get it out of there.”
Nate growled but complied. He sprawled on the quarterdeck. The barrels were in the hold and Blake had made sure Lewis had cleaned his deck first. He’d all but spat fire, but he’d gotten the job done, which allowed Nate to lie down on a clean, uncluttered surface.
Vincent appeared, carrying what Blake needed and whistling a lively tune. His face had been washed but the tattered clothes remained. It wasn’t easy for Vincent to find clothes that fit; therefore, he didn’t own a large range of extra items.
“What do you have there?” Nate asked, lifting his head to see.
Vincent passed him a bottle. “Here, drink this. The last time you were hurt, you whimpered like a baby.”
“The hell I did,” Nate grumbled but he took the bottle nonetheless and drank a hefty mouthful before lying down again. “Make it quick.”
Since the carpenter was busy with repairs and their surgeon was one of the four who had been killed, Blake was taking it upon himself to see to Nate’s wound. Had it been a gunshot, he would have demanded the carpenter do it. Since carpenters were sometimes called upon to perform surgeries, he would have more experience. But as it was, the bleeding had mostly stopped and Blake felt confident he could do a clean job of it.
“It’s going to hurt,” Blake warned.
“So don’t scream,” Vincent teased.
“Kiss my—holy hell!” Nate roared when Blake yanked the wood out.
Setting his jaw against the pain he knew he was causing, Blake grabbed the cloth Vincent passed him and pressed it to the wound. Nate’s body jerked and blood seeped through the cloth, which soon became sticky beneath Blake’s hands.
“You were lucky, it didn’t go in too deep.” Still he had to make sure all the splinters were out and he cringed when his fingers probed and Nate moaned. Satisfied it was clean, Blake nodded to Vincent. The dwarf passed Blake a bottle, then moved to Nate’s head to bring another bottle to his lips. When Nate had drunk a healthy gulp, Blake tipped the bottle he held directly over the wound.
“Jesus Christ!” Nate roared.
Vincent patted him on the shoulder. “There, there. We’re almost done. And even better, as the crew’s busy with the ship, hardly anyone heard you wail like a baby.”
“You won’t be laughing when I punch you for that.”
“I’m trembling,” Vincent laughed. He took Nate’s rum and drank some himself.
Blake smiled as he listened to the banter, then he threaded the needle and set to work.
The sun was at its highest peak in the sky before Blake finally had a moment to take a breath. From the instant Nate had called to him that morning, the work had been endless. He’d helped transfer the barrels, tended to Nate, and put his back into getting his ship clean and assessing the worst of the damage. If what Blake had seen from that one barrel held true for the rest, they stood to make a hefty profit, even after the ship was restored.
“It could have been worse,” Vincent said, stepping onto the crate he’d pushed next to Blake.
Blake stared at the churning water behind his ship, his mind as agitated as the sea.
“Thankfully it wasn’t.”
“A shame we lost Billy and the others.”
“We did our best.”
Vincent eyed Blake, knew by the strain around his mouth his friend was in pain.
“Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though, does it?”
Blake ran a hand down his face, exhaled heavily. “No, it doesn’t.”
“It’s been a hell of a day so far. Why don’t you go down and see Alicia? There’s nothing going on here I can’t handle.”
Indeed there wasn’t. The mood on the ship, despite the treasure, was woeful. Sadness prevailed and even the smell of the delayed midday meal being prepared didn’t offer any encouragement. They’d lost four men and everyone felt the loss.
Blake nodded. “All right, you know where to find me.”
When he opened the hatch and began down the stairs, the sense of home wrapped around him and eased some of the weariness from his shoulders. Here he wasn’t captain, wasn’t the man the others turned to for guidance. Here he could be Blake and he could take the time to mourn the men he’d lost. He could hold Alicia until he felt settled again. Alicia, he thought, shaking his head. Who would have thought that the girl he’d hated would become the woman he needed?
His smile vanished when he reached the bottom and she wasn’t there. Where was she? The battle had ended hours ago; she wouldn’t still be hiding under his bed. His chest clutched. She hadn’t gone above in the midst of the chaos, had she?
“Alicia?” He spun around, eyes scouring the room. “Alicia!”
From behind the steps he heard a sob. With his heart in his throat, he raced around the ladder. He found her behind the chest, back pressed to the wall, curled into a tight ball. Her knuckles were white where they held her legs close.
“Alicia?” he asked, bending to one knee. He placed a hand over hers, shocked to find it icy cold. “Sunshine, are you hurt?”
A mewling sound came from her throat.
His stomach fell. He’d checked the hull, hadn’t seen any holes, and had assumed she was fine. Then, he’d had so much to do. Why the hell hadn’t he taken two damn minutes to check on her?
“Can you talk? Please tell me if you’re injured.” He ran his hands down her arms and legs but felt nothing but her trembling.
She raised her head and Blake felt as though he’d been punched. Her hair was disheveled, her face was pale as dawn, and the look in her eyes knocked his breath away. She seemed completely shattered.
“Did someone hurt you?” His vision reddened at the edges. If anyone had laid a hand on her …
She shook her head, and Blake’s vision cleared.
“It’s all right. We’re all fine. Nate and Vincent, we’re all here.” He didn’t tell her about the deaths; there was no point in distressing her further.
“It’s not that,” she said, and her eyes spilled again.
Feeling utterly useless, Blake wiped away the tears with his thumbs.
“I remembered,” she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut. “I remembered everything. It was pirates.”
It took a moment for the full meaning of her words to become clear, but when it did, he cursed. She’d remembered her family being murdered and she’d been alone when she had. Her shoulders shook with her sobs, and he couldn’t keep up with the flow of her tears. Not knowing what else to do, Blake moved beside her on the wall and drew her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her head.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he murmured as his hand smoothed over her back.
“I thought I wanted to know,” she cried. “But now I wish I d-didn’t.”
Blake had never heard such despair and had no idea how to ease it. Since he hadn’t been through anything as unspeakable, he could offer no words that would bring comfort. He wished a thousand wishes: that he could’ve spared her this or that he’d been there sooner. That he could reach within her and take her pain as his own. Instead he held her and let her tears slide down his chest. He could only hope his presence was helpful.
Alicia felt like a clam who’d been ripped open and scraped until she was raw and empty. Everything hurt. Her head throbbed from crying, her throat chafed when she swallowed, and her chest felt as though someone were sitting dead center over her heart. The torrent of tears had passed—considering she’d cried for the last few hours, she was surprised there were any left—and only the occasional one trickled down her cheek. Exhausted and spent, she leaned into Blake and welcomed his support. At least she was no longer cold and shaking. Her hand rested on his chest, and beneath her palm was the calming rhythm of his heart.
He said he wished he’d been there when her memory returned, but Alicia was glad he hadn’t been. With the first blast of the cannons, when the sound had howled from both overhead and below, she’d been pelted with images from her past. Only this time they weren’t disjointed bits. They were complete and clear and they’d caught her unprepared.
“The noise was the same as that awful night. I’d forgotten how loud it was.”
“That’s what brought the memories back?” Blake asked.
“It must be. One minute I was sitting on the bed and the next I was on the floor and my head was bursting with images.”
Blake leaned to the side, placed a hand under her chin. “Can you tell me?”
Her chin trembled and she bit down hard on her lip.
“I’d heard the noise first. Before I had time to figure what it meant, my mother was running into my cabin. She was so scared, Blake. Her face was ashen, her hand shook when she grabbed my arm. I knew whatever was happening was dire because she was holding me so tightly,” Alicia said and rubbed at her arms. It was as though she could feel her mother’s fingers digging into her flesh.
“I didn’t know fear could have a smell, but it did that night. It hung heavy in the air, and with each breath I took, it filled my lungs until I was choking on it.” She looked into Blake’s dark eyes. “Your father was right—it was pirates. I caught a glimpse of one when we ran from the cabin. My mother hid us in the bilges, and we sat in that stinking water while they destroyed our lives. While my mother held me and cried, they laughed and cheered.