Within a Captain's Hold (17 page)

He crashed to the deck and fought to breathe. Grinding his teeth and gripping his ribs, he rose. His blood ran hot and thick through his fingers as he reached for his pistol. Bonchette lay dying in a sea of his own blood, the smoking gun still in his hand. Jaxon’s first impulse was to shoot the man between the eyes and be done, but he barked out the command to his men instead, “Abandon this rat infested scow, me hearties. Scuttle it and send ’em all to the bottom.”

His crew whooped and cheered.

Jaxon spat at Bonchette’s feet. “I’d wish God’s mercy on your soul if you had one. Let the devil take ye. Tell him to make ready. I’ll soon send him a duke
and
an earl. You can all rot in the same bloody hell together.”

Dark blood stained the linen of Jaxon’s shirt as he made his way back to the
Scarlet Night
. A buzzing filled his ears. Fiery pain made taking a breath shear torture.

Once on deck, he surveyed the damage. His crew scrambled to care for the wounded and clear the remains of their shattered mast. Sweat ran down his face as he struggled to remain on his feet. The loss of blood was making him weak and blackness blurred the edges his vision.

Starboard cannons leveled their guns and blasted the
Sea Dragon
into slivers. Huge holes and gaping wounds allowed the rush of ocean water to enter and fill the ship, dragging it down. The
Sea Dragon
listed and he called for the
Scarlet Night
to be away at once.

“Capt’n?
Jaxon.
” Cookie shouted from the quarterdeck.

Jaxon turned. One leg began to collapse beneath him. “Aye, Cook--” A wave of blackness engulfed him.

* * * *

Below, Annalise shook with terror. The battle sounded like the end of the world had arrived. Cannon fire exploded around her. The
Scarlet Night
jerked and shuddered. She screamed in terror with the next thunderous crash and hid beneath Jaxon’s desk, while dirt and debris rained down around her.

Agonized cries from the men above joined the choke of sulfur and smoke. Fear for Jaxon strangled her cries. She fell to her knees as the cannons roared again.

The
Scarlet Night
maneuvered sharply. She crept on hands and knees to the rear windows, pulling herself up to peer out. Shattered remains lay in the water.
Dear God, is that a body there?

Was Jaxon dead or alive? Not knowing, hearing men screaming above, her heart dropped. What if he were dead?
No.
She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Why had he stopped her earlier? She loved him and tried to tell him. Now he might never know. What if she found her heart only to lose him? Was he already lost?

She could still hear fighting, but the pistol shots sounded distant. She had to know if Jaxon still stood. If she could just slip up on deck for a second. In the chaos, she could stay hidden. The gruesome reality of what lay above couldn’t be any worse than what churned in her imagination. One scant second and she would return, no matter what she saw.

Slowly, she opened the heavy oak door. Crewman Robbins tumbled back, stopping just short of falling into her arms.

“Robbins?”

“Mistress, what are ye doin’?” He checked the hallway and backed them both into the chambers. When she tried to move past him, he grabbed at her arm.

She pulled away from him. “I need to see what’s happening.”

“Nay. You’d be killed up top.” Robbins positioned himself between her and the door.

“Why aren’t you up there fighting?”

“Capt’n asked me to…to take care of ye.”

“I have to know if he still lives. I have to.” She clutched at his sleeve. “Please. I’ll be careful. No one will see me. I’ll--”

“Can’t be lettin’ ye do none o’that.”

“I beg you. I’ll go mad with worry for him.”

A wild cheer came down from above. Robbins cocked his head and listened. “Sounds like the battle be won.”

She buried her head against his slender chest at the scream of cannon fire followed by a horrific explosion.

“Those be our guns. They’re scuttling the
Sea Dragon
.” He pulled her away from him. “We beat them back.” Was that relief she sensed in his voice? Surprise? “We won the day.”

“Does that mean Jaxon is alive?”

He shook his head. “I’ve no way o’ knowin’.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth when an anguished shout for Jaxon reached them. Her stomach dropped. Panic made her light-headed. The expression on the young seaman’s face mirrored her dread. Color drained from his face. She tried again to push past him.

He held her fast. “Nay. Ye can’t.”

Annalise tugged on his sleeve. “I
must
.”

“I’ll go for ye.”

“Then go.” She released her grip on his arm.

“Ye promise to stay put?”

“Yes. Yes. Hurry. Please.” Annalise went from tugging him to pushing him out the door.

Robbins spoke over his shoulder, “Don’t ye budge. I’ll bring word.”

The
Scarlet Night
began a slow turn across the water. Men still ran overhead, but somehow the ship’s movements seemed sluggish, limping, and wounded. How much damage had the ship suffered? Annalise stared at the closed door, willing it to open. Praying Jaxon would storm into his cabin, scoop her up, and wrap her in the comforting embrace of his arms.

Cookie tore the crimson linen and swore when he saw the ragged hole. He rolled Jaxon over to see if the shot had gone through. It hadn’t. The wound on Jaxon’s upper arm wasn’t bad, but the pistol shot in his side was bleeding buckets. He shouted for help.
“Capt’n,”
Robbins yelled, and he and Quinn rushed to help raise him.

“Bring him to the galley. That leads gotta come out now a’for he loses any more blood.” They laid Jaxon on the galley table and Cookie scrambled to find the tools he needed. “Where’s me sharpest knife? God willin’ he’ll stay unconscious ’til it’s over. We need to be gettin’ enough rum in him, should he not.”

Cookie looked at Jaxon’s ashen face above his blood-covered chest. “Ye hang on tight, ye hear? Don’t be gettin’ any ideas in yer head ’bout dying. No, sir. Not on my watch.”

“Quinn, while I’m pulling that shot from ’im, take the thread and stitch up his shoulder. Take care to clean it out.” Cookie grabbed a bottle of rum from a shaky looking Robbins and forced some down Jaxon’s throat. He choked a bit but managed to swallow most and remain unconscious.

Cookie took a vigorous swig himself. “To calm me nerves.” He handed the bottle back to Robbins.

Cookie steadied himself as he held the knife over Jaxon. There was no time to muster his nerve if he wanted the man to live. He began to cut away the damaged flesh of the wound. Dark blood made it impossible for him to see. Probing the ragged hole in search of the round, the knife tip hit lead. He angled the blade and lifted the bullet free. Tossing the lead ball to the floor, he cleaned the wound of any other debris.

He reached for a candle and held his knife to the flame then laid the flat of the blade against the wound, searing the flesh. If he didn’t stop the flow of blood, Jaxon would be dead.

The rancid smell of burning flesh filled the galley. Searing pain brought Jaxon to consciousness. His scream pierced the air. Robbins and Quinn held him down as his body tried to buck away from the pain.

Blessed darkness claimed him yet again, and Cookie quickly stitched his side closed.

“We should move him to his cabin.” Quinn wiped the blood from his hands.

The galley was full of men. Injured needing care, and six dead crewmen awaited their final stitch and watery end.

Cookie nodded. Jaxon lay quiet. His wounds were tended and bound, but he didn’t like the look of him. The night was far from over. Cookie took another swallow of rum. Jaxon was as close to kin as he had. He’d never seen the man sick, let alone so near death. It would be a long night indeed, but if he made it through, there was a good chance he would recover.

Jaxon was young and strong. He had that in his favor, and maybe he had a bit more to live for these days.
Annalise.
In the commotion, Cookie had forgotten about her.

Quinn called over two men to help carry their wounded captain below. Cookie jerked, “Wait. Wait. Let him lay here a bit. I’ll see his quarters be ready.”

“Ready?” Quinn threw up a hand. “Ready for what?”

“Ye want to be draggin’ him in there in the dark? Ye clouts trip over a trunk and drop ’im, it’ll be his death, I tell ye.”

Robbins stepped up next to Cookie. “I’ll see to it.”

Cookie turned and took in the serious look on young Robbins’ face. An unspoken truce formed between the two.

“Good man.” Cookie slapped the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t dally. We be right behind ye.”

* * * *

Men soon carried Jaxon to his bed. Cookie moved them out, but it took longer for him to convince Quinn. He tried to steer him toward the door. “I don’t dare leave him. Ye best be givin’ them a hand with the rest of the wounded.”

“With the captain down, I guess that puts me in charge, for now.”

“That’s right. Just get us to port.”

Quinn skirted Cookie and paced a bit. “With a juried mast and half sail, the best course of action is to reach Port Royal as quick as possible. Given the ship’s damage and load, we’re fortunate port is close. I figure we’re more than two or maybe three days away at this speed. Had we been farther out, we might not have made it. We can’t afford another skirmish.”

He retrieved the ship’s log from Jaxon’s desk. “I’ll need to make the proper entries and reports.” He scooped up the ship’s charts as well. “I’ll see to the wounded, then the logs, and then I’ll study the navigation charts. Maybe there’s a sheltered cove where we can anchor and make repairs. I may find a faster route.”

“Knew ye’d be on top of things, Quinn.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be back after I’ve set things to right.” Quinn left, his arms brimming with his new tasks.

Cookie turned to Robbins. “The man won’t sleep ’til he’s charted eight different routes and written a damn novel in them logbooks.”

He threw the latch and locked the door. “’Tis clear, lass.”

Annalise slipped out of her hiding spot not three feet from where Quinn just stood.

“I’d ne’er known you was there. Good lass.”

Not acknowledging his praise at her hiding abilities, she rushed past them to get to Jaxon. He was an awful gray color. In the moving of him, his wounds had begun to weep and bright stains of red spread across his bindings.

“Oh, Jaxon,” she whispered. She turned tear-filled eyes to Cookie. “What happened?”

“Bonchette got a shot on ‘im. I pulled the lead from his side and stitched him up.”

She reached out a trembling hand and came within a hairbreadth of his bindings. She drew a shaky breath. “Please tell me he’ll be all right.”

“If there’s any say in me, he will. But he’s lost a lot’o blood. It’s gonna be a close one. All we can be doin’ now is the waitin’.”

Annalise knelt next to the bed and laid her head upon his chest. She held his hand and wet his chest with her tears.

“I’ll be headin’ topside to lend a hand.” Robbins said to no one in particular.

Cookie stopped him. “Robbins, hold on. I don’t care about me, lad, but I have to ask ye--Am I prayin’ the captain’ll survive only to have ye turn him and that fine woman over to the crew?”

Annalise raised her head and looked at the boy.

He was shifting his glance from Cookie to Jaxon and back to her. He held her gaze a long moment before he shook his head.

“’Afore this day, I looked at Capt’n Steele as some kind of hero. Capt’n who fought and scraped and led us through the worst kind of battles and storms. Like he was unbeatable. But he ain’t. He just be a man like the rest.

“But he showed me some today. Showed me part of him I ain’t ne’er seen afore. He was willin’ to risk it all to protect ye, Mistress Steele. Showed me there ain’t no weakness in that. He may be just a man, but he be the man I want te be.

“I got me duty, and I know where me loyalty lies. I won’t be seein’ the captain come to more harm.”

Relief washed over Cookie.

Annalise swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Yer more of a man than ye know. Surely more than I gave ye credit.” Cookie puffed. “I’m mighty sorry I put ye through that spirit nonsense.”

“Try it again, and ye’ll be gettin’ more than me fist in yer face.”

Cookie rubbed his jaw. “One belt from yer ham hock was enough.”

Annalise rose and laid a tender kiss on the boy’s cheek. “I’ll never forget your kindness, Mr. Robbins.”

Color flooded Robbins’ face before he gave a quick nod, and left.

Annalise knelt next to the bed again and lifted Jaxon’s hand to lay a kiss upon the palm. She pulled a shuddered breath and looked to Cookie. Her gaze locked with his.

“Now we be waitin’, lass.”

* * * *

As the sky began to lighten, Cookie rose and stretched his back. His captain still lay unconscious, but alive. There was somethin’ to be said for that.

The first night had been hell. Jaxon’s fever spiked and he’d torn through the stitches in his side as he thrashed against the pain and infection raging within.

Annalise only left his side when Quinn’s arrival forced her to hide. Otherwise, she bathed his scorching skin, lay with him to keep his body still, and stayed awake through two nights and a full day stroking his chest and holding his hand.

Cookie wondered if the capt’n knew how much his wife loved him. She had fallen into an exhausted sleep in his chair only after Jaxon’s fever broke a few hours ago. Cookie covered them both. “Well, Son, it looks like ye’ll live to see another day.”

He went back to looking at the brightening sky and sent a quick thanks to the man upstairs. Not that he was a praying man, mind you. He figured God had better things to do than keep watch over the likes of him, but he couldn’t have lived this long and not seen a thing or two without believing there wasn’t somethin’ up there.

The day he lost his leg, he believed he was a goner for sure. It was Jaxon told him otherwise. The boy held him down, or tried to, while that bastard surgeon did his work. Cookie felt bad for blackening Jaxon’s eye, but he’d paid for it in the end. Two fingers worth.