In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) (20 page)

“Yet,” Chunk stated.

“She looks at you as you look at her,” Lucky added.

The back of Aidan’s neck pricked with heat. Embarrassment was a new sensation and he couldn’t say he enjoyed it. But, damn it, he didn’t know what more he could do or say to his men to convince them he wasn’t about to change his mind about Roche. For the love of God, the man had murdered his mother and nearly everyone else he cared about.

“Do you or do you not trust me to go after Roche?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Lucky asked. “We were with you at Nate’s. You stayed in that burning house longer than you should have just to get a good shot. The damn thing nearly fell in on top of you.”

“Aye. Besides, we sailed with you and Cale a time or two over the years. We know we can trust you to keep your word. You always have.”

The knot in Aidan’s shoulders unwound. “If you trust me then what were those looks about?”

“Because at Roche’s house you seemed certain you wouldn’t end up like every other Steele before you.” Lucky grinned and rocked back on his heels. “You aren’t looking near as certain now.”

The bottom of Aidan’s stomach swayed and dipped. It had nothing to do with the waves that shoved the ship and everything to do with the growing concern that they were right. Nevertheless he tightened his grip on the wheel.

“Seems to us,” Chunk continued, “you’re in about the same situation Cale was in.” He nodded toward Aidan. “You’re Steele now. You’ve got the
Revenge
back.”

“And there’s a pretty girl below decks that, according to your parrot, you want to see naked.”

Squawk.
“Sarah naked. Sarah naked.”

Chunk sputtered, laughed so hard he nearly toppled over Lucky. Lucky managed to keep his feet beneath him but that appeared to be the only thing he had control over. Tears of mirth filled his eyes as he too chortled.

When Aidan had first joined Cale’s crew, Samantha had given him Carracks for company. When Cale had heard the parrot’s chatter he’d cursed then grumbled, “Won’t this be fun?” At the time, Aidan had found the entire scene quite humorous.

He wasn’t laughing now.

“I’m seeing a turn with the bilge pumps or swabbing the goat’s pen in your futures.”

“Begging your pardon,” Lucky managed. But his teeth flashed once more as he straightened and wiped his eyes. “We couldn’t pass that up.”

Though Aidan rolled his eyes and shook his head, it was hard to fault them too much as he’d have done the same in their shoes. The fact that they were so free with their boisterousness proved two things to Aidan. First, they knew he’d have done the same and second, they trusted in their relationship with him enough to act so freely. Nothing could have settled Aidan’s concerns more.

“Lucky, you finish with the barrels?” As cooper, it was Lucky’s duty to keep the barrels in good order and dismantle any empty ones in an effort to save space. On a sloop, space was minimal and needed to be used effectively. When they needed to be filled again, Lucky would put them back together.

“It was as you said, Cap’n. Supplies are good for now. Only two barrels needed dismantling.”

“Excellent. Chunk, if you’ll take the wheel again.”

“Take as much time as you need, you haven’t slept much.”

“I’m not going to sleep. Miss Santiago,” he said, ensuring he didn’t say Sarah’s name aloud again, “is helping Slim with the meal. I’ll be taking this one to my cabin and teaching him some manners.”

Aidan slipped his finger through the hook and lifted the cage off its perch. He felt as much as heard Lucky and Chunk’s snickering behind him as he made his way down the stairs, the cage in one hand and his battered pride in the other.

*

In the end,
Aidan slept. Not before seriously considering letting the blasted parrot loose, however, as he’d stubbornly refused to say anything but ‘naked’ when Aidan said Sarah’s name. With nothing to show for the time spent but gritty eyes and a dull headache and thinking they’d both needed a break, Aidan had folded his hands onto the table and laid his head down.

His dreams shifted and drifted like clouds in the sky, changing from one form to another seamlessly. They began with Carracks where, even in Aidan’s dreams, the bird refused to listen. They slid into him and Sarah, alone on deck where she looked at him as she had earlier, eyes wide, lips moist and parted, as she awaited his kiss while Chunk and Lucky leaned against the gunwale whistling and hollering. Then everything darkened and Aidan was in the bloody streets of Tortuga, his plan of slipping in and out unnoticed lay ravaged and dead all around him. His breath lumbered through his lungs, his legs were heavy anchors he struggled to keep moving. Like it had been at Nate’s when Roche attacked, he grieved over the good men lying among the dead and bleeding.

Weaponless—where the bloody hell had his bow and pistols gone—Aidan suddenly came face to face with Roche. Around them the trees were naught but towering branches of flames. Smoke burned his eyes and throat, snarled as it snapped closer and closer. Aidan’s legs refused to move and he knew he was going to die. Roche laughed, the sound as ominous as the crackling flames. He had a pistol in each hand and madness glowed in his eyes as he strode closer.

When he stopped, Aidan’s horror knew no bounds. Roche aimed one pistol at his chest but he swung his other arm wide and suddenly there was Sarah, trails of tears leaving clean streaks in a soot-covered face while her father’s pistol pointed at her heart. She pleaded and begged but Roche simply cackled at his daughter’s distress. If Aidan could have moved, he’d have ripped Roche’s throat out with his bare hands.

Then, with Roche’s laugh and Sarah’s scream ringing in Aidan’s ear, Roche pulled the trigger.

Aidan jolted. He was on his feet before he came fully awake and realized he remained in his cabin. It was only a nightmare. He bent over, breath heaving as though he’d just tried swimming his way to Tortuga. He rubbed a fist over his heart but the gesture did little to calm the pounding beneath it. He concentrated on taking deep, slow breaths until the sound echoing off the cabin walls didn’t resemble a dull knife trying to cut through parchment.

His throat was dry as sand and, despite it only being a dream, he somehow tasted smoke. Just as he continued to hear the blast of the pistol and feel the horror of the blood spreading. Aidan grabbed the bottle from the cupboard, unsettled but not surprised at the tremor in his hand.

“To hell with a cup,” he muttered and tipped the bottle to his lips.

He drank deep, one gulp after another until finally he couldn’t taste the smoke any longer. Somehow, the rest didn’t seem as real after that. He set the bottle into the sunbeam that poured through the porthole onto the table next to Carracks’ cage. Then, using his forearm he wiped the sweat from his brow and upper lip.

He hadn’t had such a vivid nightmare in a long while and he certainly hadn’t missed it.

What he was beginning to miss, however, was fresh air and open space. Even with Carracks for company, the walls were beginning to close in on Aidan. And nothing settled him more than standing at the wheel.

“But you can stay here,” Aidan pointed to the bird, “until you learn some manners.” Carracks nudged Aidan’s hand as he filled his water dish but the moment the bird saw that was all he was going to get, the nudge turned to a nip.

Aidan yanked his hand away. “Damn it, that hurt!”

Squawk.
“That hurt. That hurt.”

“You don’t know the meaning of pain,” Aidan muttered. “But keep it up and you will.” He wiped the dribble of blood on his trousers and made his way up the ladder.

He tossed open the hatch and climbed onto the deck.

“You filthy, lying bastard!” He heard a scant moment before he was knocked flat on his back.

His head slammed against the deck. The open hatch gouged into his shoulder blades. Something heavy trapped one of his legs while his other dangled into the opening of his cabin.

“I’ll show you who’s a lying bastard!” Billy roared.

The weight suddenly lifted from his leg. Aidan didn’t waste a moment. He rolled off the hatch, scrambled to his feet. The wind shoved at his hair and he shoved it right back. He had no idea what was going on but Billy was charging head first into Clarence’s stomach. Clarence grunted as they staggered back into one of the guns, lost their balance and crashed to the deck. Aidan winced when Billy’s head took the worst of it. He knew exactly how painful such a blow could be.

What he didn’t know was what the devil was going on.

“You two!” Chunk bellowed before Aidan could do his own hollering. Chunk leapt from the quarterdeck and the boards quivered under Aidan’s boots when the big man landed onto the deck. “Get over here!” Chunk’s size was intimidating but his voice, when angry, rivaled thunder.

Clarence wound up and plowed his fist into Billy’s face, to the amusement of the other crewmembers, who did little to hide their grins and glee. He shoved to his feet. Billy lay stunned, blood gushing from his nose.

“What the hell is going on?” Aidan demanded, taking his position next to Chunk.

“I was about to find that out for myself before you got yourself knocked down. You all right?”

Aidan rubbed the knot on his skull. It stung but his fingers at least came away dry. “Better than these two will be once we get to the bottom of this.”

Chunk grinned. “You got that right, Cap’n.” He hollered, “Billy, you ain’t dead. Get up.”

Well, if Aidan’s head hadn’t already been throbbing it certainly would be now. “You know, the man’s right there, I think he would have heard without you yelling.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Chunk answered.

It took a few blinks and someone kicking his boots, but eventually Billy stood and, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve, weaved over and stood next to Clarence. Billy had taken the worst of it but Clarence hadn’t come out unscathed. His split bottom lip was already well on its way to being double its normal size and a large red welt was blooming in his forehead.

“What the hell is going on?” Aidan demanded.

Clarence swiped his lip, smearing blood across his lip. “We was splicin’ the rope as you asked, Cap’n. Billy was workin’ the marlinspike and I was teasin’ him about how a blind, one-armed girl could do it faster and the next thing I knew, the marlinespike flew out of his hand and blasted me in the forehead.”

“I told you it was an accident,” Billy seethed.

“And I told you, you was lyin’,” Clarence spat.

Fists curled at their sides. Judging by their raw knuckles, they’d already been well used. Lips drew back and breaths soughed.

Aidan stepped between them before their tempers unleashed. “I ought to smack your heads together.” He turned to Clarence. “If Billy says it was an accident, then an accident it was.”

“He’s never had it slip from his hand before,” Clarence accused.

“Maybe not a marlinspike,” one of the men tossed out. “But I’d be bettin’ his other tool slipped in and out of his hand a time or two.”

“And yours hasn’t?” someone countered.

“I wouldn’t need me hand if Santiago’s whelp opened her mouth wide enough.”

The crew, including Clarence and Billy, exploded in laughter and crude gestures.

Aidan’s blood turned to ice. Turning on his heel, he stormed below and into the galley. Dammit, he wasn’t going to put up with that kind of talk. Not about Sarah.

It added to his already boiling temper when his gaze fell on Sarah first. What was the matter with him that he couldn’t simply think of her as Roche’s daughter? As a means to an end? Why did he have to notice the flush on her cheeks and the shy look in her eyes when she peered at him over the large pot she was standing over?

“Cap’n what can—”

“I need your waste bucket,” Aidan interrupted.

“You’re needing peelings and scraps?”

“As much as you have.”

Slim grabbed a smelly bucket from the corner and, looking confounded, handed it to Aidan.

“Thanks, you have any dirty dishwater?”

“No but there’s the floor water Sarah was using to wash the decking. I told her I’d empty it but I forgot.” He stepped out of the galley and around a barrel, coming back with a bucket of brown water. “Will this do?”

Aidan sneered. “It’s perfect.”

With a bucket in each hand, Aidan marched back onto the deck. Clarence and Billy seemed to have forgotten their argument and stood arms around each other’s shoulders as they and at least half of the crew continued to crow about their tools and what they’d like to do with them. None of them seemed to notice he was back. When he heard Sarah’s name again he was ready.

Taking hold of the scrap pail he tossed its contents on Clarence and Billy. As they gasped and the others stepped back to avoid the flying mess Aidan grabbed the dirty water and let it fly over the rest of them.

He flung the empty bucket at their feet.

“Let that be a lesson to the lot of you,” he said. “Sam Steele’s ship has always been one worthy of respect. I’ve sailed as part of that crew long enough to know there is no finer group of men than those on the
Revenge
. I may be new to being Steele, but I won’t settle for less than what he’s always had, a crew he could trust and respect, who respected and trusted in turn. A crew worthy of being under Steele’s command.”