The Gift (22 page)

"Aye, she should have blinded him at the very least," yet another called out.

My God, they were a bloodthirsty lot, she thought. Sara took a deep breath and tried again. She waved her hand toward the pirate's leader and said, "That man has suffered enough."

"Yes, Sara," Matthew interjected with a grin. "He'll be thinking of you every time he's wanting to blow his nose."

A hearty round of laughter followed that remark. Then Chester took a threatening step forward. His hands were on his hips when he bellowed, "He won't be thinking about anything much longer. None of them will. They'll all be fish bait if the vote goes the way I'm thinking it will."

The vehemence in his tone unnerved Sara. She instinctively backed away from him until she was literally leaning against her husband's chest.

Nathan couldn't see her face, but he knew she was afraid. Without a thought as to why he was doing so he put his arm across her shoulders. She rested her chin on his wrist.

His touch had taken her fear away. She glared at Chester and said, "Were you born with a sour disposition, sir?"

The seaman didn't have a ready answer for that question and shrugged in reaction.

"All right, then," Sara shouted. "Have your vote." She pushed Nathan's arm away and took a step forward. "Just remember this," she hastily added when the hands shot back up in the air. "I'm going to be very disappointed if any of you vote in favor of death. Very disappointed," she added in a dramatic tone of voice. "If, on the other hand, you vote to toss the villains overboard and let them swim back to their ship, I would be very pleased. Does everyone understand my position?"

She scanned her audience until each man had given her a nod.

"That's it?" Nathan asked. He sounded incredulous. "That's all you have to say to sway the men?"

He actually smiled at her. She smiled back. "Yes, Nathan. You may vote now. I don't think you should be allowed to vote, though."

"Why not?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Because you aren't thinking straight now."

The look on his face told her he didn't understand. "You see, Nathan, you're still very angry because… your dear wife was injured."

"My dear wife?"

She gave him a disgruntled look. "Me."

God, she was exasperating. "I know who the hell my wife is," he grumbled.

"Just leave it to your crew to decide," she prodded.

He agreed just to get her to leave. Sara forced a smile when she picked up her skirt and strolled toward the steps.

"Stay inside your cabin, Sara, until this is finished," Matthew ordered.

She could feel every man's gaze on her. She knew they were all waiting until she was out of sight before going forward with their shameful intentions. Jimbo had even closed the trapdoor to her cabin, she noticed, probably so that the horrid noise wouldn't reach her.

She didn't feel at all guilty for what she was about to do. Her motives were as white as fresh snow. She couldn't let her staff murder the pirates, no matter how dastardly their behavior had been; and once her men rid themselves of their anger they'd be thankful she'd intervened.

Sara stopped when she reached the top step. She didn't turn around. Her voice was very pleasant when she called out to her husband. "Nathan? I won't be waiting in the cabin, but do send someone to tell me how the voting went. I want to know if I should be disappointed or not."

Nathan frowned over that odd request. He knew she was up to something, but he couldn't imagine what she could possibly do to sway the men's minds.

"Where will you be waiting, m'lady?" Jimbo called out.

Sara turned around so that she could see their expressions when she gave her answer. "I'll be waiting in the galley."

It didn't take most of the men any time at all to catch her meaning. They looked horrified. Nathan, she noticed, was grinning at her. She glared back. Then she addressed her staff. "I didn't want to have to resort to such tactics, men, but you've left me with no alternative. The vote had better not disappoint me."

A few of the less astute seamen still didn't understand the hidden threat. Chester fell into that group. "What would you be doing in the galley, m'lady?"

Her answer was immediate. "Making soup."

Nathan did have the last word, however, or rather the last action. He ordered two cannons made ready and took great satisfaction in putting a large hole in the pirates' vessel. When Sara asked what the noise was he told her they were simply emptying the cannons.

The Seahawk had suffered damage as well. Most of the repairs that needed to be seen to at once were above the water line. The very same sails Sara had nearly destroyed with her parasol had been sliced in half by one of the enemy's cannon shots.

The crew set about righting as much of the damage as possible. They smiled as they worked—a rarity—and every one of them had tossed his necklace of garlic cloves away. They were feeling safe again, for they believed the curse had been removed.

Their mistress had saved their hides. Why, even sour-tempered Chester was singing her praises.

Sara went with Matthew to fetch Nora from the hold, and it wasn't until the hatch was opened that she remembered the captives trapped below. Nathan waited until Sara had turned to leave the deck, then slammed his fist into the midsection of each man. The loud groans caught Sara's attention, yet when she turned around and asked her husband what the awful noise was he simply shrugged at her and then graciously helped the doubled-over captives to take flight over the rail.

Sara took great delight in retelling the sequence of events to Nora. Her aunt was an appreciative audience of one. She praised her niece for her courage and her cunning.

"I cannot let you believe I was completely courageous," Sara confessed. She stood with her aunt in the middle of the wardroom area. She'd already shown Nora where she'd hidden behind the screen. "I was terrified all the while," she added with a nod.

"That doesn't signify," Nora countered. "You helped your husband. It means all the more because you were afraid and yet you didn't fail him."

"Do you know Nathan hasn't said a word of praise to me?" Sara said. "I hadn't realized that until this very minute. You would think—"

"I would think he hasn't had time to say thank you, Sara, and I doubt he will when he does have the time. He's a bit…"

"Stubborn?"

Nora smiled. "No, dear, not stubborn, just proud."

Sara decided he was a little of both. The rush of excitement was over, but Sara's hands started shaking. She felt sick to her stomach, too, and the side of her face was throbbing quite painfully.

She wasn't going to worry Nora, though, and so she kept her aches and pains to herself.

"I know you've heard the whispers comparing you to Nathan's sister," Nora said.

She hadn't heard any such whispers, but she pretended she had just so that her aunt would continue. Sara nodded and said, "Jade was mistress of this vessel for a long while, and the men were very loyal to her."

"I know their comments must have hurt your feelings, child," Nora said.

"Which comments are you referring to?" Sara asked. "I've heard so many."

"Oh, that you cry all the time," Nora answered. "Jade never cried. She kept her emotions under lock and key, or so Matthew likes to boast. She was extremely courageous, too. I've heard such wonderful stories about the feats she and her men accomplished. But you've heard all that," Nora continued with a wave of her hand. "I'm not bringing up this topic to make you think the men still believe you inferior, Sara. No, quite the opposite is the case now. Why, you've won their hearts and their loyalty today. They won't be making comparisons in future, I'll wager. They've seen you're every bit as courageous as their Jade."

Sara turned to go into her cabin. "I believe I'll have a little rest, Aunt," she whispered. "The excitement has worn me out."

"You do look pale, Sara. It was quite a morning, wasn't it? I believe I'll go find Matthew and, if he isn't too busy, spend a few minutes with him. Then I'm going to have a rest, too."

Sara's light blue walking dress was on the floor of the cabin. As soon as she shut the door behind her and spotted the gown she remembered how the infidel had clutched it in his arms. She remembered all the foul words they'd said, too.

It was finally settling in. The realization of what could have happened made her stomach lurch. "I mustn't think about all the possibilities," she whispered to herself.

Nathan could have been killed.

Sara unbuttoned her gown and took the garment off. Her petticoats, shoes, and stockings came next. She was excruciatingly exact with her task. Her gaze kept returning to the gown on the floor, though, and she couldn't block the memories.

They'd really meant to kill her husband.

Sara decided she needed something to do to take her mind off her fear. She cleaned the cabin. Then she took a sponge bath. By the time she was finished with that task the trembling had eased up just a little.

Then she noticed the dark bruise on the side of her face.

The terror returned full force. How could she ever live without Nathan? What if she hadn't thought to take the pistols with her to the hold? What if she'd stayed below with Nora and hadn't…

"Oh, God," she whispered. "It's all a mockery. I'm such a coward."

She leaned over the washstand and stared into the mirror. "An ugly coward."

"What did you say?"

Nathan asked that question. He'd entered the room without making any noise. Sara jumped a foot, then turned to look at him. She tried to hide the right side of her face by pulling her hair forward.

She realized she was crying. She didn't want Nathan to notice, though. She bowed her head and walked toward the bed. "I believe I'll have a nap," she whispered. "I'm very weary."

Nathan blocked her path. "Let me see your face," he ordered.

His hands rested on her hips. Sara's head was still bowed, and all he could see was the top of her head. He could feel her trembling. "Does it hurt, Sara?" he asked, his voice gruff with concern.

Sara shook her head. She still wouldn't look up at him. Nathan tried to nudge her chin up. She pushed his hand away. "It doesn't hurt at all," she lied.

"Then why are you crying?"

The tenderness in his voice made her trembling increase. "I'm not crying," she whispered.

Nathan was getting worried. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. What the hell was going on inside her mind now? he wondered. Sara had always been so transparent to him. He never had to worry about what she was thinking. She always told him. Whenever she had a problem or a worry he knew about it immediately. And as soon as she'd blurted out whatever was on her mind she demanded that he fix it.

Nathan smiled to himself. And damn if he didn't always fix it, too, he thought.

"I would like to rest now, Nathan," she whispered, turning his thoughts back to her.

"You will tell me what's bothering you first," he ordered.

She burst into loud tears.

"Are you still not crying?" he asked in exasperation.

She nodded against his chest. "Jade never cries."

"What did you say?"

She wouldn't repeat herself. She tried to move away from him then, but Nathan wouldn't let her. He was more forceful, more determined. He held her secure with one arm and pushed her chin up. His touch was gentle when he brushed the hair away from her face.

When he saw the dark swelling on her cheek his expression turned murderous. "I should have killed the bastard," he whispered.

"I'm a coward."

She blurted out that confession, then nodded vehemently when he looked incredulous. "It's true, Nathan. I didn't realize it until today, but now I know the truth about myself. I'm not at all like Jade. The men are right. I don't measure up."

He was so surprised by her fervent speech that he didn't realize he'd let go of her until she'd turned and hurried over to the bed. She sat down on the side and stared at her lap.

"I'm going to have my nap now," she whispered again.

He was never going to understand her. Nathan shook his head and tried not to smile. It would injure his wife's feelings if she thought he was mocking her. Sara was pulling her hair over the right side of her face. It was obvious she was embarrassed about the bruise. "I'm not just a coward, Nathan. I'm an ugly one. Jade has green eyes, doesn't she? The men say her hair is as red as fire. Jimbo said she's beautiful."

"Why the hell are we talking about my sister?" Nathan asked. He regretted his gruff tone of voice immediately. He wanted to ease Sara's distress, not increase it. In a much softer voice he said, "You aren't a coward."

She looked up at him so that he could see her frown. "Then why are my hands shaking, and why do I feel like I'm going to be sick? I'm so afraid right now, and all I can think about is what could have happened to you."

"What could have happened to me?" He was stunned by her admission, humbled. "Sara, you were also at risk."

She acted as though she hadn't heard him. "They could have killed you."

"They didn't."

She started crying again. He let out a sigh. This was going to take time, he decided. Sara needed more than just a quick denial. She needed him to touch her.

And he needed to touch her as well. Nathan stripped out of all his clothes but his pants. He'd unbuttoned them and was about to pull them off, but then he decided he didn't want Sara to know what his intent was just yet. It would only turn her attention, and he wanted to address the problem first.

Sara stood up when Nathan sat down. She watched him get comfortable. He leaned against the wood behind the pillows. One leg was stretched out, the other bent at the knee. He pulled her in front of him, then settled her between his legs. Her back rested against his chest, and with prodding her head fell back against his shoulder. Nathan's arm was around her waist. She wiggled her backside against him until she was comfortable. The movement made him grit his teeth. His wife still didn't have any idea how provocative she could be. She didn't realize how quickly she could make him want her.

"Now you don't have to hide your face from me," he whispered. He gently brushed her hair away from the side of her face, leaned down, and kissed the side of her neck. Sara closed her eyes and tilted her head just a little to give him better access.

"Nathan? Did you see how quickly that man turned on me? If the pistol hadn't discharged, I couldn't have defended myself. I don't have the strength. I'm puny."

"You don't have to have strength to defend yourself," he replied.

That remark made absolutely no sense to her. "I hit Duggan, but afterwards my hand stung for the longest time. It was a paltry hit, too. Yes, one must have strength if one is going to—"

"Who's Duggan?"

"The man with Uncle Henry at the tavern the first night we met," Sara explained.

Nathan remembered. He smiled when he pictured the dainty white-gloved fist coming through the window. "You had the element of surprise on your side, but you didn't make a proper fist."

He took hold of her hand and showed her how. "Don't tuck your thumb underneath your fingers. You'll get it broken if you do. Put it here, on the outside, below your knuckles. Now squeeze tight," he ordered. "Let the force of the blow come from here," he added as he rubbed his finger back and forth across the tip of her knuckles. "Put your whole body into the action."

Sara nodded. "If you say so, Nathan."

"You need to know how to take care of yourself," he muttered. "Pay attention, Sara. I'm instructing you."

She hadn't realized she was feeling so insecure with

Nathan until that moment. "Don't you want to take care of me?" she asked.

His sigh parted her hair. "There will be times when I won't be with you," he reasoned. He was trying to be patient with her. "Now then," he added in a brisker tone of voice, "where you hit is just as important as how you hit."

"It is?"

She tried to turn around to look at him. Nathan pushed her head back on his shoulder. "Yes, it is," he said. "The most vulnerable area of a man's body is his groin."

"Nathan, you cannot believe I'd—"

He could hear the blush in her voice. He rolled his eyes heavenward in true exasperation. "It's ridiculous for you to be embarrassed. I'm your husband, and we should be able to discuss anything with each other."

"I don't think I could hit a man… there."

"The hell you couldn't," he countered. "Damn it, Sara, you will defend yourself because I command it. I don't want anything to happen to you."

If he hadn't sounded so irritated, she would have been pleased with his admission. Nathan hadn't sounded happy about the fact that he didn't want anything to happen to her, though. Lord, he was a complex man. He pushed and prodded her to do things she didn't know if she could do. "And if I can't hit a man there? Cowards don't defend themselves," she announced. "And I've already admitted that sin to you."

God, she sounded pitiful. Nathan tried not to laugh. "Explain to me why you consider yourself a coward," he ordered.

"I already did explain," she cried out. "My hands are still shaking, and every time I think about what could have happened I'm filled with terror. I can't even look at that gown without feeling sick to my stomach."