by Haley Travis
“No!” Neil said belligerently. “We’re not leaving until we hear the songs.”
There was no way I was going to risk father’s punishment for the sake of these two brats. “Look, you’ll be rid of me within the month,” I sighed. “Please, the least you can do is keep father happy for a few more weeks.”
Linking their arms with mine, I turned toward the path, trying to persuade them to walk with me.
With horror, I saw the look that passed between them. That look of pure evil. The look that honestly made me wonder if there was something seriously wrong with their minds.
There were stories of children who were simply born bad, yet I never quite wanted to believe that about my own kin. Even when they proved that they were terrible creatures, time and time again.
The two of them grabbed my arms. Before I could even scream, I was folded into a little ball and stuffed into one of the empty crates behind me.
It was the cellar all over again, yet much worse.
Even though my heart hammered in my chest, and it felt like my skin was on fire from the panic, I kept my tongue. Allowing them a few moments to laugh their fool heads off usually calmed them down. In the past, I’d always been able to scream for father to come let me out, eventually. Not that father was anywhere nearby this time.
It was hard to see anything through the few cracks in the wooden crate. A thump landed over me, as one of my brothers must have sat on the lid.
“If you let me out, I won’t drag you home for supper,” I said. I wasn’t sure if they could hear me. If they did, they didn’t answer.
It was hot and stuffy, and the way my body was curled in on itself made my hands shake so hard they rattled against the slats. Sometimes, when I was locked in my room, or the cellar, it felt like an unearthly weight was crushing my chest. As if a spirit hand was trying to press straight through my bones.
It was horrible. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than this strange fiery panic that flooded my entire body.
“Let me out!” I screamed as loudly as I could, but I could barely haul in a full breath. I didn’t care if it caused my family embarrassment. I didn’t care if we’d be the talk of the town. I couldn’t stand this a second longer.
“In here!” I hollered at the top of my voice, as I tried to bash my fist against the wood.
I was instantly drowned out by Morty and Murray’s voices, as they began leading the village in one of their wild and slightly naughty fisherman songs.
Oh no.
Nobody was going to hear me. My brothers were going to sit on this crate for the entire time.
I was going to be locked in this box for over an hour.
My heart raced like a rabbit’s in my chest, as my feet kicked wildly against the side of the crate. But because I was curled up so tight, I couldn’t get any leverage.
“Help!” I screamed and screamed.
I could hear my voice getting weaker, as the air in my lungs became thick and hot, then weak and thin.
The crowd became louder and louder, and must have all stood directly in front of the crate, as the few remaining little spots of light all dimmed at once.
~ Chapter 2 ~ The Captain ~
* Not Your Average Trunkful of Treasure *
No matter how many ports I sailed into or out of, no matter how many new routes we chose, it always felt special when we cast off and left port to sail toward the sea at sunset.
I wouldn’t dare tell the other men. It certainly wouldn’t do for a ship’s Captain to be thought of as a poet and romantic by his crewmen.
After seeing to it that Dwyer and Dobbs had stashed the last of the cargo safely down in the hold, I conferred with Willy about our schedule.
“Aye, Captain,” he said, pointing out our position on one of his crumpled, worn maps. “If the winds keep up, we could be in Parrinport day after tomorrow.”
“Right. And you’ll see to it that we don’t pass by Claytonsfield for at least two months?”
He ran a hand through his short dark curls, then placed his finger beside his nose as he gave me a nod. “Aye. Give them time to forget the slightly questionable paperwork.”
That was our code for thievin’. We were doing less and less of that every year, but now and then, a town left some of its wealth so woefully unguarded that it was impossible to resist.
Today we had simply meant to drop off some spice barrels, and pick up supplies. But the arrangement of unguarded heavy crates sitting right at the end of the dock was irresistible.
Dobbs had peeked inside one and found a stash of carpenter’s tools. Another held great folded sheets of fine linen.
The lads simply loaded up the ship seconds before we set sail. No one would be the wiser, as long as we stayed away long enough that they wouldn’t think of us as the thieves.
Especially since that whole spectacle with their odd singing fishermen had been going on at the time. That almost made it too easy.
“Keep me posted, Willy,” I said, then headed toward the galley to see what Cookie might be making for dinner.
Whenever we were in port, one of the lads would pop to the local bakery for fresh bread. Spending so long at sea, it was little luxuries such as this that broke up the monotonous days.
As I began to walk down the steps, Dwyer came bolting up them, the big man’s tan face looking as pale and gray as our sails.
“Captain,” he blurted, then he froze.
“What is it, lad?”
“There’s something wrong with that new cargo.”
Bloody hell. I hoped this wasn’t another case of something leaking out that caused a stench on the entire ship for weeks. That had happened three years ago, and I swear at one point I nearly swam to shore to be rid of it.
“Well then, best show me,” I said, starting down the stairs.
His hand was white knuckled on the railing. “I can’t go back, Captain.”
“Why the blazes not?”
His head shook quickly, tossing his sandy hair around. “I’ve heard of ghosts, Captain, and I’m not going near one.”
I laughed uproariously, but he didn’t seem to care. “Ghosts are simply an old wives’ tale to get children to eat their supper and go to bed on time,” I insisted.
He stepped aside, letting me walk down the steps alone.
No matter. I grabbed a lantern and went down into the hold, surveying the cargo. I heard a strange rustle, and hoped that we didn’t have another rat problem. They were always about, but five years ago, the wee buggers had nearly eaten us out of house and home during a two week stretch at sea.
Approaching the pile of crates, I could hear the rustling was coming from the back row.
“Dobbs, get down here,” I hollered.
His boots rumbled down the stairs as I held the lantern up to the crates. “What is it, Captain?”
“Strange noises,” I said. “If you see a rat, be quick with those boots.”
Setting the lantern down, I lifted the top crate and set it aside. The next one was a bit heavier, and as soon as I got a grip on it, a strange, soft moaning sound emanated from within.
Even I had to admit that it was a bit eerie, sending a slight chill up my spine.
“Dwyer was right – it’s a ghost!” Dobbs yelped, running away at full speed.
I lifted the crate down, pulling the lantern close. There was definitely movement from inside.
Grabbing a hatchet from the wall, I pried the lid open cautiously, then held the blunt end forward as a weapon. Lifting the lid slowly, I expected to smell dusty old fabric, or the dank stench of vermin.
Not the sweet smell of flowers and honey.
Tossing the lid aside, I lifted the lantern to peer in, as a pair of huge light blue eyes stared into mine.
Then a howling scream tore through the room as the most beautiful young lady I’d ever seen in all my days reached out to slap me full across the face.
I blinked hard, annoyed, and not sure what to say to make her stop screaming.
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Then to my utter horror, she did the worst thing possible. The pretty little slip of a thing burst into unbridled, uncontrollable tears. Her warm brown hair shone with bits of auburn in the lamplight, a few bits falling loose from her braid and hiding her face.
Before I knew what was happening, my arms had reached into the crate and lifted her out. Sitting on the floor, I pulled her into my lap.
“There, there, lass.” That voice was unfamiliar in my throat. Gentle. But how could it not be, as I stroked her satin hair, holding her slim, trembling body against mine.
This was the girl who had winked at me last week. The one who seemed afraid of her own shadow, yet stared as if she wished she were permitted to speak with me.
I’d never been tender with anyone in my life. Yet as I held this sweet, lovely girl, something deep inside shifted, locking into a new place. I was going to protect her. Care for her. Keep her safe and happy, no matter what.
Even though she reached up to slap my face again.
~ Ch apter 3 ~ Maggie ~
* Moonlight on a Pirate Ship *
My head was spinning, and my arms and legs were thrashing, trying to escape.
I didn’t know why I was crying, or why this stranger was holding me so warmly, snug in his huge arms.
Through my tears, I blinked hard, then jumped as I recognized him. It was the unusually handsome man from the strange ship that I’d seen at the docks last week.
“Why…” My voice was hoarse, as if I’d been screaming. Had I been?
The man’s huge hands caressed my back gently, changing my tremors of fear into something else entirely. But I didn’t think he meant it that way. He was simply trying to take care of me.
That thought sent a fresh wave of tears streaming from my eyes. No man had ever really tried to take care of me. My father was a selfish bast…er, man. My brothers were constantly horrible to me.
Even the men who offered to marry me were simply doing so because they wanted a young wife to give them children. They didn’t actually care about me.
“There there, lass,” that deep voice murmured again. “Just be still and take a breath.”
I tried to nod, but my body betrayed me, sending shivers and tremors straight through me. I hoped I hadn’t caught a flu. It almost felt like the floor beneath us was moving slightly.
Maybe this man could help me get home, and I could hide in my little bed for the night until I felt better.
“Dammit,” the man cursed roughly, scooping me into his arms. “You’ve been down here in the damp, chilly hold in nothing but that thin dress. Put your arms around my neck.”
I obeyed without thinking, somehow knowing that he meant it for the best. He carried me up some stairs, then a fresh breeze struck my face, chilling my moist cheeks. The air was invigorating, like nothing I’d ever tasted before.
He sat down on the floor again, holding me tightly in his arms. Looking up, there was no roof above us. Just dozens of stars and the moon that was a few days from full.
Now the slight swaying of the floor and the odd rippling noises made sense. “Why am I on a boat?” I whispered.
“I have no idea,” he said gently. “I’m Captain Maddox. You’re aboard the Midnight Treasure . What’s your name?
“Maggie Douglas.”
“Do you know how you ended up in a crate, Maggie?”
“My…my brothers.”
“Shh, don’t cry, lass.”
His huge hand cupped the side of my head, holding my face against his chest. “There must’ve been a mix-up with the paperwork as we brought those crates aboard,” he said gently. “Please understand that my men and I would never just take a woman.”
I looked up to see the curious way he was staring deeply into my eyes. “Especially such a beautiful one as you. Such an elegant young lady has no business being on a ship with a bunch of dirty scallywags.”
“You haven’t met my evil brothers,” I grumbled. “I guarantee you I’ve had the misfortune of worse company than yours.”
His chin tipped back as a great rolling laugh thundered through his chest.
“I suppose you’re going to sail to Claytonsfield and dump me back there?” I whispered. I was terrified of the answer, but felt that the question had to be asked.
I’d always dreamed of leaving my hometown, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Now that it had, I wasn’t sure whether I was quite so keen on going back.
The Captain frowned. “I’m afraid we can’t go back for a few months,” he said slowly. “We could drop you in Parrinport, if you have family there. Perhaps we could leave word, and your father could come and fetch you.”
I shook my head quickly, shaking it against his shoulder. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want me.” I didn’t add that my reputation would be ruined anyway if anyone thought I had been associating with pirates.
“Come now, lass. That can’t be true.”
“It really is. He wants to marry me off to a terrible mean drunkard.”
The Captain muttered a string of curses under his breath that I’d never heard before.
Quickly wiping my eyes, I tried to smile up at him. “Captain, sir, is there anyway you could…please...take me with you?”
He sucked in his breath through his teeth. “Taking a proper young lady from her home to live aboard a ship? We’d be hanged six ways from Sunday.”
“You said it was an accident,” I said, thinking as quickly as I could. “If I’m here of my own free will, you didn’t take me at all. Right?”
I’d never had anyone drag their palm up and down my spine before. It felt absolutely heavenly. Except for the rough shoves of my brothers, nobody had really touched me since my mother passed.
I found myself leaning into the Captain’s shoulder, eager for more. It was as if my body had decided to ignore all propriety and just take what it needed.
“For the moment lass, yes, we’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you.”
There was rustling behind us, and I peeked over his shoulder to see four faces dimly lit by the oil lamps.
“I think Captain’s talking to the ghost,” one of them muttered.
I shivered again, causing the Captain to spin around to face them. “Willy, grab a blanket from my bed.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
He was back before the other three men finished creeping closer, staring at me curiously. The Captain wrapped me in the blanket tightly, sitting me beside him, which was a bit more appropriate, but I immediately missed his warmth.
It was strange that he was so familiar with me, holding me, and caring for me. I knew that I should be appalled, but I wasn’t in the slightest. It felt so deeply wonderful to have someone caring for me.
Every time the Captain looked into my eyes it felt like fireflies were swarming through my chest and belly. It was terrifying and wonderful at the same time, yet I wasn’t sure what it meant.
“Lads, those crates we picked up today contained a little extra treasure.”
I looked up to see his dark eyes gleaming at me strangely. The look wasn’t lecherous, as I’d come to expect from most men. Was it admiration?
“This is Maggie,” he announced. “She’ll be sailing with us for a bit.”
“A woman?”
“She’s but a wee girl.”
“She’s awfully pale, Cap’n. Did you check to see if she’s a ghost?”
A tiny laugh bubbled out of me. “I’m a real person. I’m nineteen now, so if that’s old enough to marry me off, that’s old enough to ask for a job on a ship, isn’t it?”
The five men all exchanged pointed glances.
The Captain turned to me. “First off, let’s put Dwyer’s mind at ease.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Dwyer’s heart is sometimes in control more than his head.”
He reached out to gently poke my shoulder. “See? She’s not a ghost. She was trapped in the last round of crates we loaded.”
I’m not sure why there see
med to be slightly shifty glances circulating among them.
“We’re responsible for her safety, since we took her away from Claytonsfield and we’re not going back there for a spell. We’ll be taking care of the wee lass for the time being.”
“Will she be taking the spare rack?” Cookie asked.
