My Seaswept Heart (24 page)

“I merely asked—”

“Ha!” The boat rocked with the force of his
delivery. “Ye never
merely
anything in your life. And ye
certainly didn’t ask. Ye demanded. And when I wouldn’t listen ye
drugged and kidnapped me.”

Anne opened her mouth in rebuttal, then
clamped it shut again. What he said was the truth. But she had her
reasons. Reasons he didn’t seem to care about.

“You’re a bossy wench, Anne Cornwall. And
’tis nothing I hate more.” The words poured from his mouth like
venom from a snake. Once begun Jamie seemed unable to stop them.
Not that he wanted to, he assured himself. Every syllable he
uttered was true.

At least he thought it was until he saw her
face. Her dirty, sunburned face. Her full mouth quivered and if he
didn’t already know that she wasn’t a female prone to tears, he
would swear she was going to cry. Not knowing what else to do, he
reached out, grazing the tip of her chin with his finger.

Anne didn’t think she had the strength to bat
him away, but she did. Except he didn’t stay away. Instead he
lunged forward onto his knees, grabbing her shoulders and pinning
her on the seat. The boat rocked, the sun glared and the heat from
his hands burned through Anne’s linen shirt.

“I shouldn’t have called ye that.”

Anne raised her chin. “Why not? It’s what you
think of me.”

A grin played with the corners of his mouth.
“Aye,” he admitted. “’Tis true in part.” His grip tightened when
she tried to squirm away. “But ’tis not all bad ye know.”

“You’re going to tell me now that you like
bossy wenches?” Anne’s brow lifted skeptically.

“Nay.” He did grin now. “But ye do have a few
other admirable traits.”

At the moment Anne couldn’t think of a thing
about her that was appealing. “Such as?”

“Your courage.”

“I’m not courageous.” Anne sucked in air.
“I’m really frightened.”

He seemed to shrug that off. “Considering the
circumstances anyone would be a fool not to be scared.”

“Are you?”

Jamie let his hands drift down her arms.
“Aye.” His eyes held hers for a long moment before he straightened
and continued. “Do ye know what else I like about ye other than
your obvious feminine charms?” His gaze traveled over her as slowly
and thoroughly as it had that first time they met.

Anne experienced the same tingling, the same
flutter in her stomach. “Tell me.”

“You’re a woman of action. Ye don’t just sit
by and let someone else take care of ye.”

“But you said you didn’t like that.”

“I know,” he said, his grin wicked. “’Tis a
puzzle, isn’t it?”

The breeze picked up, catching his hair and
showing glimpses of the gold loop in his ear. He loomed before her
looking every bit the pirate, and Anne couldn’t seem to mind.
Slowly her smile spread, until it was as wide and playful as
his.

They were two people alone in their world.
Destined to die, but somehow feeling a bit better.

Jamie slapped his knees. “Seems to me ’tis
time I went fishing.”

Though Anne protested the captain insisted
he’d do better with the knife if he went over the side.

“Don’t fret, I can swim.” He carefully
unwrapped the yarn holding the knife to its makeshift shaft.

“But what if there’s a shark?”

“Then I’ll be climbing aboard before ye can
miss me.” With a splash he was over the side.

Anne watched as he took a deep breath, then
jackknifed his body and dove under the water. The sea was so clear
she could see him as he dipped and turned. When his head broke the
surface he was streaming water and grinning. Tugging the boat to
one side he slide a squirming fish off the blade.

Several more times he went under, and always
he came up with a bright-colored catch. Anne was beginning to think
he was right about going into the sea when she lost sight of him
beneath the boat. She sat back, waiting for him to surface, growing
more nervous by the second when he didn’t.

“Captain.” She leaned over the side, sticking
her hand into the water and swirling it around. She could see
nothing.

“Jamie!” She scurried to the other side
searching the depths. Her heart pounded as she called again and
again. But still there was nothing but endless sea, endless
sky.

Suddenly the water’s surface not two rods to
her left exploded with a burst of streamline gray. Anne screamed
and clutched the sides of the rocking boat, sure that some terrible
sea monster had devoured the captain and would eat her in one
gigantic bite.

But it wasn’t a sea monster, but the dolphin,
cavorting with its friend. The captain waved a hand. “Look who I
found.” He dove beneath the surface only to push up beside the
boat. With a heave he pulled himself in, splashing water
everywhere. His hands slicked the hair off his face and he braced
himself on the seat.

Already the dolphin was by them, swimming and
bounding its way south. Jamie watched a moment, then turned to face
Anne. “’Tis not just my decision.” He continued when her expression
registered bewilderment. “Do we follow the dolphin, or...”

Anne tilted her head. “Or stay where we
are?”

The captain shrugged. “Rowing in another
direction is an option.”

Shifting around, Anne caught sight of the
dolphin, then looked back toward the captain. “I suppose it can’t
hurt to follow Lucy.”

But she was wrong, Anne thought later that
day. It did hurt to follow the dolphin because they’d started out
with hope, and now as the sun burned down to their right, that hope
was fading.

Anne glanced around at the captain from her
post in the front of the boat. He’d been rowing almost nonstop for
hours, only pausing when a rain shower brought welcome relief from
their thirst. They’d lifted their faces, drinking their fill,
saving what fresh water they could in Anne’s shoes.

And then he’d grabbed the oars and continued
rowing. Now his strokes were more and shallow, moving them slower
and slower toward some unseen and more than likely nonexistent
destination. “You should rest,” she said, lowering her eyes when he
looked up.

“Later,” was all he said.

“This is foolishness. You’re so exhausted you
can barely lift the oars.”

He didn’t respond, but Anne could see the
tiny nerve jump in his cheek as he clenched his jaw.

“Captain MacQuaid...”

“What?” He splashed the oars into the water
and yanked them back. “Now ye want me to stop. Make up your mind,
woman. Before it was row here and there. Well, I’ve decided I’d
rather die of fatigue than hunger and thirst.”

“Fine.” Anne turned back around in a huff.
Let him row and row and row. He could follow the stupid dolphin to
the ends of the earth for all she cared.

Anne shaded her eyes scanning the water.
Where was the silly creature anyway? If she’d lost sight of it the
captain would—

Anne blinked, then rubbed her eyes and
blinked again. If she wasn’t mistaken... “Captain MacQuaid.
Captain.”

“All right, Annie, I’ll stop in a wee bit and
do some fishing.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Anne took her eyes
off the horizon long enough to spare him a look. “It’s... I think I
might see—”

“Land,” he whooped as he shot to his
feet.

It took them longer to reach the island than
Anne thought. She kept her vision focused on the gradually clearing
specter of palm trees, afraid if she glanced away they might
disappear, and be swallowed up by the sea. But she called out
encouragement to the captain, who seemed to have a sudden spurt of
renewed energy. The oars dipped and splashed in rhythm with the
raucous song he sang under his breath. Anne wondered if he even
realized what he was doing.

Her spirits were so high she didn’t care if
he crooned of loose women with breasts as large as melons. As long
as he rowed.

Shadows darkened the landscape as they
approached the embracing arms of the cay. The water within the
outstretched semicircle of coral rocks was a cool turquoise that
reminded Anne of the captain’s eyes. But she didn’t mention the
comparison to him.

She was too busy pointing out features of the
island and bombarding him with questions. Most of which he answered
with a noncommittal grunt.

“Do you see the palm trees?” Anne hugged
herself, barely able to contain her happiness and relief. “Fresh
coconut. Won’t some coconut milk taste wonderful?”

“Aye.” He no longer sang, now whistling the
same tune through his teeth.

“Do you suppose there’s fresh water? And
something to eat? And people?” She did look around at him now.
“What if the island is populated? With houses and beds and... Oh,
wouldn’t that be grand?”

But the closer they got the more obvious it
was that this was one of the multitude of islands that dotted the
Caribbean, uncharted and unpopulated. Beyond the stretch of white
sand rimmed by palms was an interior of scrub pines and bushes,
molded by their exposure to the constant trade winds. Not exactly
hospitable surroundings, but after days at sea in a small boat, the
island looked like heaven.

Anne’s exuberance was such that when the
bottom finally skimmed sand, she leaped from the boat, splashing
through the surf to dance around on the shore. “What a beautiful
island,” she sang, throwing her arms out and twirling about. “What
shall we name it do you think? Something magical. Camelot, perhaps?
Or Heaven?”

“What about Dolphin Island?”

Anne stopped turning about and faced the
captain. He still sat in the boat, hands wrapped around the oar
handles, body slumped forward, as if his muscles had turned to
stone when he finally reached shore. She took a step toward him.
“You must be...” Anne hesitated, she couldn’t think of a word to
describe how tired he looked. “Come, let me help you.”

“I can manage, Annie, thank ye.” He moved
then, slowly pulling in the oars and standing to survey the beach.
Then he, too, leaped into the gentle waves and pulling the boat
with him, stumbled onto the beach.

He barely cleared the froth of surf when he
sank to the sand. He sprawled out, and before Anne’s surprised eyes
fell into a deep sleep.

“Captain?” Anne inched closer to him, at
first worried that perhaps he died. But her hands settled at her
waist when she heard his first deep snore. She bent down to shake
his shoulder. “Don’t you think we should look for water?” No
response except his continued even breathing. “Or find something to
eat?” Again nothing. “Or build some sort of shelter?” This time he
mumbled something, but Anne couldn’t make it out. And it was
obvious he wasn’t going to wake up.

So she stood and looked around herself. She
was hungry, but not brave enough to explore the island’s interior
on her own. So she settled for sorting through the coconuts she
found on the ground, shaking each in turn, and collecting three
that sloshed with milk.

Using her knife she gouged out the holes and
gulped down the milky liquid. Again she tried to wake the captain
to offer him some, but he wouldn’t budge. So she drank all
three.

Then with a sigh she snuggled down on the
beach beside the captain. She supposed building a shelter would
have to wait until morning.

~ ~ ~

She awoke late and alone. Anne stretched,
digging her hands into the sun-warmed sand to assure herself that
finding the island wasn’t just a dream. Taking a deep breath she
sat up, annoyed with herself that she missed the captain’s bulk
beside her.

The sun was nearing its zenith, a fact that
made Anne jump to her feet. She never slept this late. Never. And
especially when there was work to be done. Twisting around she
searched the area for the captain.

At first all she could see was blue sky,
turquoise sea, white sand and when she looked behind her, the
shadowy green of the interior. Just as Anne was ready to call out,
she heard a splash near one of the curving arms of coral rock.
Shading her eyes against the glaring sun, Anne made out the
captain. And Lucy, the dolphin.

“So, they’ve found each other,” she mumbled
as she walked purposefully toward the shore. When the lapping surf
licked over her toes Anne paused. Cupping her hands she shouted his
name.

After the second time, he heard her and threw
up his hand. But he seemed in no particular hurry to return to
shore. Anne stood, her patience growing thinner as he continued to
swim and cavort with Lucy. By the time he finally began a leisurely
paddle toward the island, Anne had worn a path in the sand with her
pacing.

He emerged from the water, his body, the hard
planes and muscles, the wide expanse of bronzed skin, sleek with
moisture. He was wearing breeches, but they molded sensually to
every part of him. Anne tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

“Well, of course my mouth is dry,” she said
almost belligerently. “I’m thirsty.” Being annoyed with the captain
seemed preferable to swooning at his feet, which was what Anne
thought she might do when he lifted his arms to rake the long hair
back from his face. “You should have awakened me,” was all Anne
said before proceeding to tramp back and forth in her
footprints.