Within a Captain's Hold (20 page)

“Aye there, Cookie.”

Cookie stopped short and Annalise ran into his back.

Quinn.
Panic made her dart to one side. She tried to duck into a shadowed niche, but only managed to hit a barrel with an, “Oomph.” She tucked her chin and prayed to become invisible.

“Quinn,” said Cookie, “ain’t ye done yet? I figured ye’d be three cups in by now.”

“Still seeing to the logs.”

Annalise stared at his shoes. She didn’t dare raise her eyes.

“Robbins?” Quinn asked, “Didn’t ye leave with the captain an hour ago?”

“I did.” Her throat closed as she tried to lower her voice.

Cookie rushed to answer. “He did, indeed, but…the lad needed to come back to…”

“Get new britches,” she spat. She lifted her head just enough to catch the raised eyebrow on Quinn’s stern face.

“New britches?”

“Aye,” agreed Cookie. “The lad needed new britches ’cause…”

“Old ones ripped,” grumbled Annalise. Her heart was surely going to beat out of her chest. “Couldn’t have the whole island seeing me bare arse and man bits.”

Cookie choked next to her.

“I see,” replied Quinn.

She dared another peek.

Quinn was still staring at her. “So, the captain’s settled?”

“Aye.” Cookie raised the small trunk. “Just gathering the last of his things.

“Do ye need a hand?”

“Nay,” quipped Cookie, “but a new leg might come in handy.”

“Funny,” Quinn countered. “The two of you.”

“Must be knowin’ we can lay about drinkin’ rum on the morrow.” Cookie elbowed her. “Aye, lad?”

“Aye,” mumbled Annalise. She once again studied the shine on Quinn’s boots.

“Away with ye then. Sooner ye be gone, the sooner I can find my own rum.”

“Good night then.” Cookie gave her a shove forward.

Quinn moved to the ladder way and disappeared below.

As soon as he was out of sight, Cookie slumped against a barrel and wiped the sweat from his face. “That’s a few more years off me life. Let’s get ye the hell out of here before Quinn realizes Robbins was half a foot taller last time he saw him.”

They encountered no others as they made their way down to the docks.

Blazing fires on the beach added to the yellow lantern light that cast an odd jaundiced glow to the strange sights before her. Grizzled pirates and bare-breasted, painted women, urchin children, and men of every description spilled out of taverns and stumbled along the pier. Dogs fought in the gutter and a man walked past with a screeching monkey on a rope. An untamed riot of sounds and smells wafted past her as she struggled to keep up with Cookie’s thump. Unwashed bodies, manure, smells of ale and rum, and the sickly syrupy aroma of something she couldn’t identify assaulted her senses.

Cookie moved with a determined stride to a cart hitched to an odiferous mule. He tossed the small trunk he carried under the seat and pulled himself up. Habit had Annalise staring at him to help her. He shook his head. “Get in,
lad
. We ain’t got all night.”

She climbed in beside Cookie and, with a flick of a whip, the mule began to move away from the crowds.

They traveled for several minutes in silence. Fear kept Annalise glancing back as shouts, raucous laughter, and the odd pistol shot sounded behind them. No one paid them any mind, and soon they were well away from the beach.

The crude cart jostled behind its mule as they followed a pathway through the undergrowth. Dark shadows of strangely shaped trees loomed over her. She was anxious for daylight so she could see everything. Smells and sounds were much different here than on the pier. It was like nothing she had ever experienced. The moist heat of the air and the darkness closed in about them. How did Cookie or the mule know how to stay on the path?

“We did it, lass. Had me doubts with Quinn showing up like he did, but ye was brilliant, ye was.”

Annalise rubbed her arm where she bounced off the barrel. “I can’t believe we got by him. My heart dropped into my feet. If I ever meet the man properly after this is over, I’m sure to duck under a table or something equally embarrassing.”

She looked around, but the trees had gotten thicker and darker. The clop of the mule and the animal’s deep heaving breaths were the only evidence the beast still pulled the cart. “I’m concerned about Jaxon. How long will it be until we get to the manor?”

“We ain’t goin’ to the manor,” Cookie said, his voice flat.

“What do you mean? Where are you taking me?” In the dark, she could barely make out the shape of him. Panic crept in. “You promised to take me to him.”

“Calm yerself. I be protectin’ me capt’n.”

“By taking me into the woods and…and… Jaxon is expecting me tonight. If I’m not there…” Annalise peered out into the blackness of her surroundings. Trying to escape Cookie would be foolish. Where would she go? She didn’t know up from down in this jungle. Didn’t dare go back to the docks. “I swear, if you don’t turn this mule in the direction of the manor, I’ll…”

“Easy, there. I promised I’d bring ye to the captain, and I will. Soon. Just not tonight.”

“Then when?” she snapped.

“Hear me out, lass.”

“Speak now, or I’ll jump from this carriage and find my own way to him.”

Cookie chuckled in the darkness. “No need to be racin’ off half-cocked. If I was to bring ye to the capt’n now, questions would fly ’bout how ye come to be here. I canna take the chance someone would challenge the capt’n over ye. So, I hear tell of a ship due to make land by dawn. The
Pinkerton
. It ain’t no merchant ship or pirate rig. She brings colonizers. I know the ship’s steward. He has a taste for finer things. If I pass a few quid across his palm, I can convince him to put the name of Mistress Annalise Steele on their passenger list. As soon as the
Pink
makes anchor, I’ll see to the details and fetch ye to the capt’n straight away.” A wide, three-fingered hand patted her knee. “There be a full staff at the manor to see to the capt’n. He’s in good hands.”

“Does Jaxon know any of this?”

Cookie snorted. The mule snorted in reply. “Nay, and it’s a good thing he’s wounded or he’d skin me alive. I’m hopin’ before he orders me hanged, he’ll listen te reason. I be doin’ what I can to protect the both of ye.”

“So, if we’re not headed to the manor, where are we going?”

“To Sarah.”

“Sarah?”

“Aye. She’s my woman. She’ll care for ye better than yer own mum. I give ye my word ye’ll be with the capt’n soon. I’ll go explain it to him and if I’m still livin’ come mornin’, I be back to git ye.”

“You could’ve told me this before.”

“There wasn’t time. Ye have me word. I’ll even bring ye proper clothes.”

“I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?”

He patted her knee again. “Ye can always trust me, lass.”

The mule must have known the way to Cookie’s woman. He traveled without direction from the driver, who sat and hummed softly. At a sharp bend in the path, they came upon a modest hut with a grass-covered roof. A lantern hung in a window and a torch burned bright next to the open door.

Soon the doorway was full. A large dark-skinned woman wrapped in a bright costume looked out into the night. About her head was a wreath of lovely flowers. Her smile lit up the night. “Sam-u-el.”

“Samuel?” Annalise glanced at Cookie.

“Me given name.” He shrugged as he pulled the cart to a halt. “Sarah, me darlin’. Ye be a fine sight for these ole eyes.”

Sarah hurried to the side of the cart and dragged Cookie from his seat like a child’s stuffed doll. She crushed him in a tight embrace. “I knew, I knew ye was comin’ te me. I saw ye ship was in de harbor. I missed ye, my darlin’ Sam-u-el.”

“Ah, me beauty.” Cookie stroked her hair. “Ye git more lovely each time I see ye.”

Sarah locked him in another smothering embrace and kissed him breathless.

“Woman,” sputtered Cookie as he tried to pull away, “we got company.”

Sarah peered around him at Annalise. She frowned. “Ain’t no boy.”

“No, she’s the capt’n’s woman. She needs to hide here for a time. Can ye take her in for the night?”

Annalise climbed out of the cart.

Sarah looked her over. “Aye, I can.”

“Yer me big beautiful angel. I love ye.”

“I be lovin’ ye too, Sam-u-el.” Sarah set him aside and grabbed Annalise by the arm. “Come, wit’ me, woman.” She dragged her into the tiny hut.

A warm, sugary breeze blew through wide slatted windows. Large bright blossoms sat in containers of various shapes and sizes. Bowls of colorful fruits graced the center of a rugged wood table. Bunches of dried leaves and buds hung from the roof poles. The wood was smooth, pale, and polished, unlike any wood Annalise had ever seen. It framed the entire structure. The walls were made of woven grasses. Rich, spicy scents blended with the sweet smells of the flowers to create a magical incense.

Everywhere Anna glanced, a riot of colors and textures abound. Bedclothes, pillows, painted jugs, woven mats--Sarah. She was plump and abundant with womanly curves, wrapped in a cloth of vivid oranges and yellows. Hair, as shiny as polished onyx, flowed down her back. There was a formidable nature to her, but when she smiled, her entire being shown bright.

She brought a wooden cup to Annalise. “Drink.”

Anna thanked her and drank the sweet liquid. Sarah gave a cup to Cookie as well. He drained it in one swallow, smacking his lips as he explained he had to leave but vowed to return. Sarah kissed his hands and followed him back out to the cart.

“Cookie?” Annalise stopped him. “Tell him….”

“She luves ’im,” Sarah said with a broad white smile.

“Yes, tell him that.”

“Will do, Miss. Sleep well. I’ll be fetchin’ ye soon.”

* * * *

Cookie flicked the whip and turned the mule back down the path. In a short time, he was at the gates of the governor’s island manor. Crossing through, he arrived at the front door. A servant dressed in crisp white opened it before he knocked and allowed him entrance.

Inside he found Robbins. “Where be the capt’n?”

Robbins looked behind him and back to the door. “Where be the capt’n’s wife?”

“Ye answer mine, and I’ll be happy to tell both of ye, ’cause sure as I’m standin’ on a tree, those’ll be the first words out of his mouth.”

“She ain’t with ye?” Robbins shook his head with a pitying look on his face. “He ain’t gonna be happy.”

“That’s another reason ye’re comin’ with me to tell him. Less chance of gettin’ shot with a witness.”

Robbins snorted. “If ye think I’ll protect yer hide, ye’re dead wrong.”

“Don’t be sayin’ ‘dead,’ just show me where he be.”

Cookie followed him up a wide curving stairway and down a long hallway. They entered a grand bedchamber. Jaxon lay in bed, wide awake, and fuming.

“Finally. It took you long enough. Did you run into trouble?” snapped Jaxon.

“I see ye’re in a fine mood.”

“Where’s Annalise?”

Robbins muttered behind Cookie’s back. “Ye’re on yer own.”

“She be safe.” Cookie lifted a hand to calm him.

“What do you mean? Where is she? Did ye get her off the ship?”

“Aye, aye, gettin’ her off went,” he rocked his palm, “smooth for the most part. Don’t fret. She be safe.”

“Damn you, man. Tell me where she is.” Jaxon started to rise and gritted his teeth against the pain in his side. He pointed to Robbins. “My pistols are loaded. Shoot him.”

Cookie raised both hands in surrender. “If ye’d just be still and listen.”

Jaxon spoke through clenched teeth. “What have you done with my wife?”

“Annalise be with my Sarah.” Cookie spit out what he had done and what his plan was concerning the
Pinkerton
. “There’d be no question after that. Ye two can be together and none will be the wiser as to how she come to be here.”

“And you say the
Pinkerton
is due at dawn? Are you sure?”

“Aye,” Cookie insisted.

“And she’s safe with Sarah?”

He snorted. “Have ye met me Sarah?”

Jaxon chuckled and winced. “Aye.” He slowly relaxed into the pile of pillows.

“I be headin’ there as soon as their anchor falls to fetch her to ye.”

Resting his head back, he closed his eyes. “You’ll fetch a preacher and a goldsmith, as well. I want no question about this marriage.”

“Aye, aye.”

He opened his eyes and glared at Cookie. “And if she’s not here by midday, I’ll shoot you myself.”

Annalise awoke slowly. Without the constant rock of a ship beneath her, the world felt odd. The creak and groans of the
Scarlet Night
were gone. In their place came the strange calls of some creature she had yet to meet. A warm languid feeling slid into her limbs. She was warm and safe and had slept the sleep of an innocent babe.

Opening her eyes, she found herself alone in the cheerful grass-walled hut. A bright lemon yellow sun filtered through long thin fingers of the most interesting trees. Birds sang and the air smelled of rich, moist earth.

Last night she curled herself into a corner and fell into an exhausted sleep. Dirt still smudged her hands and face. Her hair still bound in rags. She rose and stretched to undo the bindings and tried to sift her fingers through its tangled tresses.

Sarah’s singing reached Annalise long before she saw her.
“Yah-ky Yah-ky Pyang me jew-ah-lee Pyang.”
Her voice clear, lovely--and loud.

Sarah came in carrying a large trencher and an armload of yet more flowers. She stopped, put her burden on the table, and moved to Anna, lifting her hair, turning her this way and that. “You be de Fire Queen.”

“No,” she started to laugh, “I’m just Annalise.”

“Anna-Leeze.” Sarah wrapped the end of her hair around a dark finger. “De Fire Queen.” She grabbed her shoulders and spun her about. “First, I feed you. Come.”

Anna had little choice but to sit and eat as Sarah placed more and more delicious treats upon her woven plate. Sweet rich fruits, in jeweled red and yellows. Round tart berries and tangy greens. Sarah chatted away, telling her what she was eating, sometimes in broken English and other times in the lovely singsong fashion of her native language, all the while moving through the room, adding new flowers to every nook. Anna lost track of the names and soon raised her hands in surrender, as her belly was full to bursting.