by Merry Farmer
They might need money if they escaped, or were rescued, although rescue would bring its own complications. And why was he thinking in terms of “they”? Heidi would no doubt be glad to see the last of him, especially after his childish outburst.
He’d deliberately left the sack in the clearing, suspecting her curiosity would compel her to look inside. He didn’t want her to think he was hiding anything.
He sat on a massive tree root left high and dry on the beach and looked back at the jungle, then beyond to the mountain peak. He was more than certain they weren’t on Puerto Rico, but couldn’t recognize the geographical features, though there wasn’t an island in the Caribbean he hadn’t visited or sailed past in the last ten years.
He didn’t relish the prospect of revealing the news to Heidi.
Heidi wished she could have cleansed her body of the irritating sand and salt before donning her clothing, but was immensely relieved to be out of the nightdress. She was tempted to toss the ruined garment into the ocean but Maximiliano was right—they shouldn’t throw anything away.
For a while, she resisted the urge to peek into his sack, but a quick check showed he was still sitting on a huge tree trunk washed up on the beach. She opened the drawstring. Jewelry, pocket watches, coins, banknotes. What…
The truth struck her like a blow to the belly. She was looking at loot stripped from fellow travelers aboard the Hekla, many of them victims of declining fortunes. Maximiliano claimed to have spared their lives, and she had taken his word for it.
She sat back on her haunches, not certain why the revelation was so upsetting. He was a pirate after all. It would behoove her to remember that. She was completely dependent on him for survival, but she’d been too trusting, too ready to think well of him. Lust had affected her judgement. It was time to remember she was a respectable Danish woman from a good Lutheran family, not some pirate’s moll.
After all, she’d trusted Torsten and lived to regret it.
Estimating he’d allowed Heidi more than enough time to change clothes and peek into the sack, he returned to the clearing. Her pout as she rose indicated she hadn’t forgotten his boorish behavior and definitely knew the source of the valuables in the bag. “I apologize,” he said in his most polished tone as he took her hand and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “It was rude. Perdóname.”
She blushed, or perhaps she was simply overheated. “We’re both exhausted. Think no more of it.”
He accepted the small concession. “There are a few hours of daylight left. We should find shelter away from the sand, maybe closer to the mountain.”
She turned to look. “Do you recognize where we are?”
He saw no point in lying. “No.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “So, we have no idea of our location?”
“Correct.”
He expected tears. Instead, she clenched her jaw, looking determined. “A cave is a good idea if we are going to be here a while.”
“It will be easier once we leave the beach,” he said, hoping his prediction would hold true as he took her hand.
“Aren’t you going to bring your treasure?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Nothing to buy here, and we can come back for our belongings.”
“Someone might steal it.”
The time had come to voice his biggest fear. He shook his head. “I have a feeling we are alone on an island I don’t recognize.”
The Cave
With Maximiliano’s steady hand supporting her, Heidi soon fell into a slow walking rhythm in the thick undergrowth. She hadn’t known there were so many different shades of green.
She expected creatures to scurry out of their way, but there was no sound other than their own footfalls. “I don’t even hear birds,” she said.
The vegetation thinned out near the base of the mountain. Stopping to catch their breath, they scanned the barren rocky slopes.
She looked to where he finally pointed. “Up there, a ledge of some sort, but it’s too high. We need something closer.”
They changed direction to follow the base of the mountain, taking advantage of the easier going, until they came to an opening. “This might do,” he said. “Stay here.”
She watched him search for footholds as he climbed, her heart beating erratically when the hole swallowed him up. They’d seen no wildlife, but that didn’t mean some dangerous creature wasn’t lurking in its lair.
She breathed again when he reappeared, waving. “Looks good. Can you make it up here?”
The relatively short climb was daunting, but she had to stop relying on him. “Ja.”
She followed the path he’d taken, relieved when he took her into his arms and pulled her into the cave. “Welcome to your new home, Señora Jakobsen,” he said with a broad smile.
She narrowed her eyes to peer into the gloom. “Cozy,” she quipped.
“It’s small,” he conceded. “But it’s dry and there’s no evidence an animal lives here.”
The ceiling was high enough for even Maximiliano’s tall frame, but there was little space to do anything but sleep. She contemplated suggesting they search for something bigger when the deafening roar of a sudden tropical downpour left no alternative. Darkness fell quickly, as it always did in the tropics.
“No choice,” he said, laying the pistols and the dagger aside. “It won’t be comfortable, but we can find something to lie on tomorrow.”
He stretched out on the rocky surface and indicated the space next to him. “I know you are angry with me, and rightly so, but we need each other’s warmth if we’re to survive the night.”
He was right that the temperature would drop. There was no point enduring it alone. She lay beside him and nestled into the warmth of his body as he put his arm around her shoulders.
They listened to the rain pelting the rocks and trees. “I’m glad we’re not still down on the beach,” she whispered.
“Sí, finding this cave is a good omen.”
He tightened his hold when the thunder and lightning began.
“I’ve always been afraid of thunder,” she confided. “I remember the bellringer in our church in Denmark being killed when the steeple was struck.”
He stroked her hair. “My mother used to say an uneven number of thunderclaps in quick succession will bring good luck.”
“We’ve had two so far,” she replied.
“Three,” he said when another rolling boom cracked not far away.
She lost count after six and fell asleep with her head on his chest.
Maximiliano silently chided the God in which he no longer believed. This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted to sleep with Heidi Jakobsen.
Like every sailor, he was wary of thunderstorms, but at least he’d taken Heidi’s mind off her fear and she’d fallen asleep.
He took the opportunity the lightning flashes offered to examine the cave. So far, the walls and ceiling had remained dry, and it was out of the wind. However, his backside was already numb. They’d have to find something softer to lie on. Perhaps the mattress from his bunk.
Food was another concern. They couldn’t survive on coconuts alone. Finding a freshwater stream was a priority. He was adept at fishing with a net, but all he had now was his dagger, which meant he’d have to learn to spearfish. Sparking a fire was a simple task when a man had his tinderbox. His was somewhere on board the wreck of the Juana.
Surviving until they were rescued or could find some means of escape would be a challenge. As would lying abed with Heidi’s breasts pressed to his chest night after night.
Perhaps this torment was God’s punishment for his loss of faith.
It was still dark when Heidi woke, but the rain had stopped and she sensed dawn wasn’t far off. She was amazed she’d slept at all; her hips and shoulders were stiff. She had to try to move, but the steady beat of Maximiliano’s heart pulsed in her ear. His soft snoring brought comfort—he’d slept too.
“God morgen,” she said hoarsely when he
stirred.
“Días,” he replied. “You sound as thirsty as I am. Let’s see if we can find rainwater to drink.”
He got to his feet slowly then helped her rise. His fingertips touched the ceiling when he stretched. “My body aches.”
Distracted by the broad planes of his chest, visible when his shirt gaped open, she had a momentary notion to suggest a traditional Danish massage might help rid him of his aches.
Her limbs refused to function properly. “I feel like an old woman,” she lamented as they scanned the jungle below.
“We’ll make a proper bed,” he assured her. “Er, I mean…”
“I understand,” she replied.
He assisted her down the path, pointing excitedly to a crevice in the rock face where rainwater had accumulated. Pleasantly surprised when he scooped water in his big hands and offered her the first drink, she held on to his wrists and slurped. “Good,” she sighed, swiping her sleeve across her mouth. “You now.”
He gathered his long hair into a queue as he bent to drink from the crevice. Even in profile, his features were striking. He looked up and caught her staring.
“Your beard is growing,” she improvised lamely.
He rubbed his chin. “Better get used to it. There’s no barber here.”
Her mouth ran away with itself. “I could shave you,” she said.
He eyed her curiously. “With my dagger? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t trust me,” she replied, sounding like a petulant child to her own ears.
He looked into her eyes. “I’d trust you with my life, Heidi Jakobsen, but I doubt you’ve shaved a man with a dagger before.”
He was right, though she’d shaved Torsten with a straight edge.
“Besides,” he chuckled. “You need me.”
Foraging
Intent on finding shelter, Maximiliano hadn’t paid much attention to anything else except Heidi as they’d fought their way through jungle foliage the previous day. Retracing their steps to the clearing, he was reminded of his childhood, foraging for fruit on his parents’ estate in Cabo Tinto.
He plucked a bunch of quenepas, scored the shell of one with his teeth and chewed greedily into the flesh. “Try,” he said, offering her one. “Stringy, but sweet.”
He took back the fruit when she couldn’t break the shell and did it for her.
Her eyes widened in surprise when she began to chew. “Delicious,” she breathed. “I never tasted them before.”
He chuckled when she plucked another and had no trouble opening the shell.
“I must look terrible,” she said. “I feel like I’ve got sand everywhere.”
Her hair was a tangled mess, her face smudged, her lips sticky with quenepas juice. He wanted to lick her clean, all over, but he’d resolved to respect her. “You look like you spent the night in a cave with a pirate,” he teased.
Her laughter only intensified the urge to kiss her, but then she spotted a guava tree. “I used to buy those in the market,” she said.
Some of the fruit fell to the ground when he shook the tree. He cut one in two with his dagger. “Not fully ripe,” he said, “but better than nothing.”
They scooped up the rest of the guava, picked a few more quenepas and took the haul back to the clearing. As he’d predicted, the portmanteau and his sack were untouched, if wet.
“At least we won’t starve,” she said.
It gladdened him to hear a note of optimism in her voice, but how long could they exist on fruit and coconut? “I’m going to climb as far up the mountain as I can,” he told her.
“You’re leaving me here?”
He regretted the note of panic in her voice. “You can’t scale mountains, even in those shoes, and I want to see if this is indeed an island, and if there’s a better place to shelter. From up there I’ll perhaps get my bearings.”
He handed over her own pistol. “I don’t think you’ll need this,” he said. “But I’ll feel better if I leave you with a weapon. The powder should be dry, and the bullet is still in the barrel.”
“It was my husband’s,” she admitted, staring at the brand on the handle.
He’d anticipated that, but her next words shook him to the core.
“He killed himself with it.”
The climb wasn’t arduous, but Maximiliano was soon sweating as the sun rose higher. He barely paid attention to what he was doing, cursing himself for leaving Heidi with only a farewell kiss pecked on her forehead. A woman who’d revealed a dire event that had broken her heart deserved more compassion.
He doubted she’d confided the manner of her husband’s death to many people.
He felt privileged she’d told him.
He paused every so often to scan the vistas before him, clenching his jaw when there was nothing but open sea. He thirsted to return with good news.
Whatever he discovered, the likelihood was he and Heidi would be stranded together for a long while. He wanted to learn more about her, know her better. What were her likes and dislikes? What was her life like in Denmark? She spoke Spanish, but what other languages did she speak? He supposed the Danish West Indies Company had brought her husband to San Tómas, but why had he killed himself?
He’d an uncharacteristic longing to tell her about himself, to explain the reasons for becoming a pirate.
He managed to claw his way to the top of the peak with some difficulty, but the vistas confirmed his fears. There was only sea and sky on every side, though a thick marine haze obscured the far horizon. The densely treed island wasn’t large, and there was no sign of human habitation.
Far below, the wreck looked like a toy ship. Pistol in one hand, Heidi was walking along the white sand beach, shading her eyes to look up now and again, but he doubted she could see him. He waved anyway.
He was about to begin the descent when the sound of running water drew his attention. Off to the left, a waterfall trickled out of the rock face. He lost sight of the stream’s path, but made out a small inlet where it eventually emptied into the sea.
With any luck, the cascade might fall into a pool—a source of fresh water.
The descent in a slightly different direction was difficult. He lost his footing a few times on loose stones, grazing his hands and scuffing his pantaloons as he slid several feet. He’d likely end up with scrapes and bruises on his behind. If they had salve, Heidi…
Clinging to a rare bit of vegetation after one long slide, he took a deep breath and contemplated the reality of the situation. A man and woman marooned together on a deserted island—it was probably inevitable that nature would take its course, especially if they were stranded for weeks, months or perhaps years.
Strangely, he found the prospect appealing. Heidi had reignited desires he’d long thought dead. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was drawn to him.
Perhaps this island was the safe haven he sought.
He breathed more easily when his feet landed on a flat surface, whooping with delight at the sight of the stream emerging from a crack to trickle into a dark pool sheltered on all sides by smooth rocks.
Not only was it a source of drinking water, they could bathe in the pool. He inched his way to the stream and slaked his thirst, then retrieved the largest of Heidi’s needles threaded through the fabric of his shirt collar. He hunkered down and rubbed it back and forth along strands of his hair. As far as he could recall, this was how Gatito had magnetized a needle years ago. Admittedly, they’d been rip-roaring drunk at the time. He placed the needle on top of a fallen leaf and carefully set the leaf on the water. As he’d hoped, the leaf spun, then settled, but exactly which end of the needle was pointing north was difficult to ascertain.
Securing the needle in the fabric of his shirt, he hurried down the rest of the way to the beach, his mind filled with the prospect of swimming naked with Heidi.
Heidi took off her shoes and walked along the beach for a while, but the sun was already too hot and the sand burned the soles of her feet. She thought s
he caught sight of Maximiliano near the top of the mountain, but doubted he could have climbed so high. The ascent looked intimidating.
She didn’t want to contemplate what would become of her if he didn’t return. She’d be dead by the end of the day.
But the future had to be considered. Maximiliano drew her like a lodestone. He’d roused sexual feelings and desires she’d never experienced before. It was doubtful he found her attractive, but men were men, and they had needs. If they were stranded together for weeks, or even months, it was almost inevitable the cramped sleeping conditions would lead to…
Her body heated, though she sat in the shade. She ought to be scandalized by such wanton thoughts but, if they were to die in this remote place, why not make the most of the time they had left?
First, The Bad News
Heidi rose from the sand, hoping it was Maximiliano coming through the jungle toward her. She cocked the pistol, just in case.
“It’s me, querida,” he shouted.
Relief surged when he entered the clearing. She set down the weapon and threw herself at him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.”
He held her tight, stroking her hair. “Where would I go?” he quipped.
She was making a fool of herself but couldn’t let go. “Did you find anything?”
“Sí,” he replied. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
She almost laughed out loud. If a woman had to be marooned with a pirate, what were the chances he’d turn out to be a man who’d try to spare her feelings with his sense of humor? “The bad news,” she whispered.
He bade her sit on the luggage. “This is an island, and we are alone here,” he began.
