It became clear the next morning, after Father Torres made breakfast for the crew, that they much preferred the ship’s new cook to the old. With each muttered compliment to himself, and every jab to the previous man, Alfonso’s smile widened, until his face looked like it was ready to split in half. Keeping to myself, my hat covering my countenance as always, I enjoyed the morning with him, happy to know he felt so validated.
It was in the afternoon when the cry came, pulling all attention to the ship that had appeared on the horizon behind us. It was like all the excitement and happiness of the morning melted away as we watched it gain ground. The captain was shouting things to the crew, Father Torres hastily translating to me under his breath.
“Stay calm, it may not be pirates,” he translated, eyes on the same target as everyone else. “If it is, we will not go down without a fight! We are proud Spaniards! Let them try and take what is ours from us!”
“Why do they insist on fighting?” I groaned quietly, trying to ignore the racket from the crew as they agreed with their leader. “If they would just surrender, the pirates would let them go and only take the goods with them.”
“Capitán thinks it is dishonorable,” he explained. “He will not lay down and let himself be robbed without fighting back.”
“Perfect.”
Suddenly, a black flag began to rise on the ship we were all watching—it was a pirate vessel and they were coming for us. A roar of elation mingled with fear rose from the crew as they began to scramble about, readying themselves for battle.
“Come, señorita.” Grabbing my hand, Father Torres hurried us across the deck and into our room, locking the door behind us. Fumbling, he pulled out the gun and sword he’d been given, motioning for me to follow suit. “If it takes a turn for the worse, the crew will hide in a hold below deck. The pirates will know to look there. We will be able to defend ourselves here, where only a few would look. If they take the ship, they will come in searching for goods. That is when we need to be worried.”
“You know a lot about pirates and their boarding habits,” I added nervously, my hands shaking as I gripped the gun tightly.
“We will be all right, señorita,” he said encouragingly. “Remember, you are a man. No fear!”
Laughing in spite of myself, I settled down into the corner, pointing the flintlock towards the door. I wouldn’t be seen immediately from this angle, whereas Father Torres was standing in front of the entrance like a bull ready to charge, gun and sword held in position.
It didn’t take much longer for the vessel to catch us, shots being fired from our side as they neared. For an instant, I was brought back to when I’d hidden in the hull of the Adelina, wishing I knew what was happening. Now that I was on the other side, I kind of wished I was back in hiding.
The ship jerked as the pirates came up along side us, the wood of both vessels scraping across each other with a grating sound. The men on board our side were shouting and firing their guns, but I knew the pirates wouldn’t be deterred.
Something hit the deck hard and the world was suddenly much louder on all sides, as the thieves boarded our vessel with speed and ferocity. Metal was meeting metal outside, screams of death and triumph raining down on my ears. Somewhere in my mind, I registered that the red liquid running under the door was blood, but my adrenaline was picking up, readying me for whatever was about to come through that entrance.
Father Torres was an unmoving block, his gaze trained on the latch of the door, waiting for even the faintest hint of movement. It occurred to me he was ready to give his life to protect me, and I didn’t know why.
The world was starting to slow down again, as it had when Dad died. My senses told me that any second now, someone would break through and I would need to act, or watch Alfonso die. That wasn’t something I was ready to let happen and my fingers tightened around the pistol, the shaking of my hand lessening some.
Finally. There were footsteps right outside. All other sounds melted away as I watched the shadow of a man, barely showing through the space between the door and floor, stop, seeming to consider the closed space in front of him.
The wooden entrance smashed open, splintering some as it bounced off the wall, and a pirate ran in screaming, his gun aimed right at Father Torres. Without another second’s thought, I fired my gun, screaming as I did so. The bullet grazed his shoulder and he jerked, turning his attention to me immediately.
My breath caught in my throat as he shoved a charging Father Torres into the wall, knocking him out cold before raising his gun to me. My voice was caught in my throat, my body unmoving, his fingers moving to pull the trigger.
“Tristan!” The name finally tore from my lips and I struggled to my feet, my hat falling off and revealing my face.
Freezing, recognition washed over his features, his mouth popping open in surprise as he stared at me. Then as quickly as he’d entered, Tristan left the room, grabbing the door and slamming it shut behind him. There was a scraping sound outside and I suddenly realized that he had slid something in front of the door, barricading us inside.
Trembling, I tried to swallow, only succeeding on the third try. My brain was scrambling to make sense of what was happening and why I was still alive, but nothing was clicking together. Eventually, I landed on one thought and cringed.
I’d shot Tristan.
I didn’t think he’d blame me, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Once I’d processed that thought, I then settled on the fact that the crew of the Adelina was boarding us. No wonder it sounded so fearsome out there. Finally, I caught sight of Father Torres and my body kicked into action.
Hurrying to his side, I felt for his pulse, worried that he might have been crushed to death from the force of hitting the wall. The rhythm was there though, steady and strong. He was simply unconscious and would probably have a terrible headache when he woke up. Smiling softly, I thought of him charging our attacker again, so fearless. It wasn’t any surprise that he’d dreamed of being a pirate, not with the way he’d acted when faced with battle.
Sitting down next to him, I groaned, running a hand through my hair. Would Tristan leave us here? Would another crewmember find us? What was going to happen if we were discovered and dragged out on deck? Would Captain Rodrigues kill everyone left? Would we be asked to join up? More importantly, was I going to be recognized for who I really was? Something told me the captain might not be so happy with me, given the nature of our last meeting.
The fight continued on outside. As it grew quieter around us, I assumed the crew of the merchant ship had tried to take safety below decks, just as Alfonso said they would. But, guessing from the whoops and hollers I was hearing below, the crew of the Adelina hunted them out. Eventually, I knew that it was all over. All I could do was pray that Tristan had some sort of plan.
“What about this room?” A voice outside the door made me jump, the barricade shoved out of the way by whoever was speaking.
“I’ve got this one,” Tristan’s voice answered. “You help with the cargo. We want to be out of here as soon as possible, before anyone else comes and tries to take it from us.”
“Aye, sir!” Footsteps marked the leaving of the crewmember and the door swung open, revealing Tristan once more.
Glancing over his shoulder, he entered the room, closing the door behind him and securing the broken latch the best he could. When he was satisfied that it would hold well enough, he turned to me, an unknown expression on his soot-covered face. There was blood on his clothes and skin, the spot where I’d grazed him bleeding freely. “Ye, stupid, stupid woman!” he growled.
With two strides, he crossed the room, hauled me to my feet, and, wrapping his arms around my waist, crushed his lips against mine. Caught off guard, I gasped, my hands gripping his biceps as he continued to assault my mouth. “What do ye think ye are doing?” he asked, not giving me any time to answer before he was kissing me again.
It felt like my entire bod
y was on fire; I would simply die right there if he were to release me and the flame went out. He tasted like metal, the dirt on his face rubbing across mine, his skin melding with my own as I let him carry me away.
“Why did ye not go to my cousins?” he asked between kisses. “Ye would have been killed if I’d not been the one who found ye!” His lips brushed against mine again, the strength of his attack lessening some. It was starting to feel more like a feather brushing across my skin as he kissed my face, holding me tightly to himself. I couldn’t hardly breathe, let alone answer any of his questions. He only jerked away some as my hand traveled up his arm, lighting on his wound. “Ye shot me!” He sounded surprised, to say the least, but there was definite pride in his voice as well. “I’d not have pegged ye as one to shoot back, lassie.”
“Sorry,” I finally breathed, feeling like I could collapse into a warm puddle and never move again. There was a stupid grin on my face and I laughed, not knowing how this had happened, exactly.
He stared into my eyes for a moment, clutching me against himself, the world around us lost. “Ye make a very pretty man.” He snickered. “I didn’t recognize ye at first. I would have shot ye clean through if ye’d not said my name.” At this, he glanced over at the door, his grasp tightening painfully before letting go completely. “We need to get ye off this ship. Put yer hat back on and make sure it covers yer face.”
I leaned against the wall, trying to gain control of my own humming body, drinking in his image like I was thirsting to death.
“Sam!” he hissed, snapping his fingers in my face. “We need to get ye outa here before someone else sees ye and realizes who ye are!”
That managed to jolt me some and I stood up straight, blinking furiously. How was he so focused after a kiss like that? Stumbling, I crossed back to where my hat was and put it on, holding my head down to hide my face.
“Good. Now, don’t speak and follow me.” Moving to the door, he listened for sounds outside before cracking it an inch.
Father Torres began to stir on the floor and my senses jerked to the present moment. “Wait!” I whispered. “I’m not leaving without the Father!”
“What?” He gave me a look of confusion and disbelief, but I stared back defiantly.
“I’m not leaving without him,” I insisted. “I’ll stay here if you don’t help me wake him up!”
Huffing, Tristan glanced at the form on the ground, back at me, and then bent down, shaking Father Torres roughly by the shoulders. “Padre,” he spoke.
With a flash of movement, Father Torres jumped to his feet, swaying dangerously, and raised his fists, bewilderment in his eyes.
“Get behind me, señorita!” he commanded, sizing up Tristan. “I won’t let any harm come to you as long as I’m alive!”
Tristan chuckled at that, folding his arms as he watched with interest.
“It’s okay, Father,” I quickly explained. “I know this man. He’s going to help us.”
Alfonso paused in his disorientation, staring at me skeptically. “Are you sure?”
“He’s the pirate that helped me before, the one I told you about. Remember?”
Turning back to Tristan, his fists slowly lowered, but there was obvious distrust in his eyes.
Behind us, the door popped open and we all turned to find Captain Rodrigues standing there. “What’s going on in here?” he demanded.
A brief silence met his statement, my heart practically stopping at the sight of him again. He was about a million times scarier covered in blood.
“Uh, we’ve got two joiners, Captain,” Tristan answered. “I was just finishing searching them.”
“Joining up, are you?” He stared at the two of us hard, causing sweat to break out on my brow. Then, a huge smile spread across his features. “Well, then. Welcome aboard the Adelina!”
Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One) Page 27
