Petals on the River (104 page)

Shifting his gaze past the man, Gage frowned sharply toward the top of

the building slip and jerked his head to the side, as if cautioning an

ally to take cover.
 
But the tar had been warned by Morrisa not to let

himself be duped by the wily colonial and was immediately wary of

deception.
 
Holding his pistol carefully aimed at Gage, Potts sidled

cautiously around until he could take a quick glance toward the slip in

relative safety.
 
As he had expected, he found no one there.

"Ye're tryin' ta trick me," Potts accused, narrowing his pig eyes in a

piercing glare.

"I'm sorry, I had to do something to save myself," Gage apologized

blandly.
 
With a casual shrug, he dismissed his attempt as something to

be expected and paced forward with guarded tread, causing the sailor to

stumble back with a growl.

"Ye stay where ye are, blast ye, or I'll kill ye right here an' now!"

Gage spread his hands in a gesture of pure innocence.
 
"I'm unarmed,

Potts.
 
Why are you so worried?"

" Cause ye're full o' pranks, ye are!
 
Like that day ye stepped aside

an' booted me in the arse when I went rushin' after ye."

Gage smiled pleasantly, gratified that he had caused the man some

embarrassment.
 
"You must allow, Potts, that if the situation had been

reversed, you might've done as much.
 
if you had thought of it, of

course." His insinuation that the tar was thick-witted was subtle, Gage

had to admit, but even a simple oaf should have recognized the insult.

He was rather disappointed that Potts remained oblivious to the slight,

so Gage spelled it out for the tar.
 
"Too bad you can't think that far

ahead."

"Well, this time I aren't gonna let meself get taken in by none o' yer

shenanigans," Potts declared gruffly.

Gage decided to test the man's intelligence even more.
 
Glancing this

way and that, he made it seem as if he had lost something.
 
But what he

was really contemplating was snatching up an iron maul that was braced

against a bucket of sand, very close to his feet.
 
Sending the makeshift

weapon flying full force against the tar's noggin would certainly dull

Potts's senses, even if it didn't kill him, which Gage sincerely hoped

it would do.
 
He was tired of living on the edge of fear, wondering if

Potts was near or far or if a member of his family would be hurt or

killed by him.
 
At least now his adversary had come out of hiding.

"Now what're ye doin'?" Potts barked, exasperated.
 
"Tryin' ta get

yerself killed afore I've had me say?"

"I'm tired of your empty threats, Potts, so spare me your gloating

comments.
 
You're nothing but a clumsy mudsuckerþ" With a roar of rage,

Potts stretched out his right arm and leveled the pistol at his

tormentor's head, but Gage ducked and reached for the maul.
 
He only had

one chance to stop the tar from killing Shemaine!
 
He fully expected his

own life would be forfeited in the process, for he could not hope to

throw the heavy hammer toward the man and still remain unscathed by an

exploding flintlock.

Even as he heard the faint rasping of a trigger being squeezed, Gage

swung the maul upward in a rounded arc over his head.
 
In the next

instant an explosion rent the silence as he hurled the hammer forward

toward the tar.
 
Gage waited in agonizing suspense for the shot to

strike him full in the chest and was amazed when Potts's huge body

jerked forward in a convulsive shudder.
 
The maul barely missed the

tar's head as he tottered stiltedly on turning feet.
 
A strange gurgling

gasp came from Potts's throat, and then a heavy trickle of blood spilled

down the corner of his mouth.
 
He gaped at Gage, his astonishment

supreme.

Gage was equally stunned as he watched the man.
 
Potts painstakingly

raised his arm and looked under it at the large blotch of red that was

swiftly mushrooming beneath the sleeve of his white shirt.

Through the large hole in the garment, he glimpsed a sticky, dark red

rent in the wall of his chest and felt the burning path of the lead shot

clear through to his lung.
 
In slackjawed wonder, Potts lifted his eyes

to the slender form standing at the top of the building slip, toward

which Gage had directed his gaze a moment earlier.

Shemaine lowered the still-smoking pistol to her side and allowed it to

slip from her benumbed fingers as she glared through welling tears at

Potts.
 
"You sh-shouldn't have tried to k-kill my husband!"

Gritting her teeth together to keep them from chattering, Shemaine made

a valiant attempt to bridle her violent shaking, but her composure was

steadily collapsing.
 
Very soon she would be sobbing with the torment of

what she had been forced to do.
 
It was the second time she had shot a

man to save her husband's life.
 
She liked it no better this time than

she had the first.

Awkwardly Potts turned his pistol toward her, but Gage threw himself

forward and, with an upward sweep of his hand, knocked the oaf' s arm

skyward.
 
The deafening roar of the exploding weapon seemed to echo

across the river, sending waterfowl flying upward in diverse directions

from the far shore.
 
Gage rammed a fist into the broad face of the

sailor, catapulting Potts backward and sending him sliding across the

planks, leaving a wide streak of glistening red to mark his passage.

Potts tried to rise, but his efforts only hastened the flow of blood

gushing from his chest.
 
Carefully he laid his head back upon the deck,

as if extremely exhausted, and stared up at the rose-colored sky as a

flock of birds wheeled across his line of vision.
 
Very slowly he closed

his eyes and, with a pensive sigh, gave up his life.

A shout from the cabin drew Gage's attention, and he hurried to the far

side of the ship to see William, Bess and Andrew standing on the porch.

Gage waved his arm in a wide sweep above his head to assure his father

that they were safe.
 
Then the three returned to the cabin's interior.

Gage hurried to his troubled wife and took her in his arms, dropping a

kiss on the top of her head as he tried to quell her trembling.

"Whatever made you come up here with a pistol, my love?"

"I saw Potts from the front door of the cabin," Shemaine muttered

miserably.
 
She had been about to leave when she had seen the

all-toofamiliar broad shape flitting across the clearing toward the

ship.
 
"But how did you see me?
 
I thought I was being so careful

sneaking up the building slip."

Gage was totally bemused.
 
"I never saw you."

"But you frowned and looked directly toward me while I was crouching on

the building slip.
 
I thought sure Potts would turn and see me."

Gage recalled his ploy to draw the tar's attention away from him so he

could launch an assault and was immensely thankful that Potts had been

too suspicious to look around immediately.
 
The oaf could have killed

Shemaine.
 
"I never saw you .
 
.
 
.
 
or even heard you.
 
I was only

trying to divert Potts's attention so I could try rushing him.
 
I never

once imagined that you'd be hiding there behind the rail.
 
It frightens

me to think what I might have caused trying to distract Potts."

Shemaine sniffed and wiped at her eyes.
 
"I was ready for him.
 
I would

have shot him."

"I can't even allow myself to think otherwise." Gage groaned. His heart

had already turned cold at the horrible prospect of her being killed.

Shemaine began to shiver uncontrollably as she stared fixedly at the

dead man.
 
"I d-doubt that Potts ever considered his hid-hatred of us

w-would cost hid-him his life."

Gage rubbed his wife's arms vigorously to chase away the chill she was

suffering.
 
The shock was settling in, and he knew he'd have to get the

man out of her sight soon.
 
"I'll carry Potts's body down to the cabinet

shop and put together a coffin for him."

"I'd b-better clean the b-blood off the d-deck while you're doing that,"

she stuttered, unable to stop her shaking.
 
" Twill be dark soon, and I

w-would hate for the blood t-to soak into the w-wood overnight."

Catching the sailor's arm, Gage drew him up across his shoulders and

carried him toward the slip.
 
"I'll come back and help you as soon as

I've nailed Potts in a coffin."

Shemaine straightened her spine with willful resolve and, by slow

degrees, took hold of herself.
 
When she was calmer, she went to the

cabin briefly, spoke privately to William and explained what had

happened.
 
She received his assurances that he would put Andrew to bed

and the boy would be none the wiser as to what had happened on the ship.

She squeezed William's hand, communicating her growing affection for

him, and he surprised her by catching her fingers in his grasp and

raising her hand to his lips.
 
Nothing was said.
 
There was no need. His

fondness for her was becoming more apparent with each passing day. After

all, it was the second time she had killed a man to save his son.

Shemaine returned to the deck of the ship with a bucket of soapy water,

a bundle of rags, and a scrub brush.
 
Having changed her attire for an

older gown and an apron, she shuddered at the gruesome task ahead of her

as she settled to her hands and knees on the deck and began scrubbing

and cleaning up the gore.
 
She had hoped to spend some time alone with

her husband and to share in his elation over the sale of his ship, but

at the moment she would have been relieved just to have him near, to

have his stalwart presence comforting her.
 
With darkness approaching,

she wanted to enjoy the nourishing succor of being with her family and