Lesley’s wine glass tipped over and so did her chair as she jumped up.
“A familiar face, mademoiselle?” Vane’s voice had a hard edge to it. “Isn’t this the quartermaster you and Sterford left for dead after Sterford attacked him?”
“He attacked me. Sterford saved me from him.”
“Sterford is a pirate!” Hooper boomed. “He forced his crew to go on the account.”
That wasn’t the way she heard it, but if she said anything, he would call her a liar. Dizziness threatened as all her blood rushed to her feet. Her strange journey to the past could end right here, in this room with these two maniacs.
“You are a harlot,” Hooper continued. “You came aboard and brought bad luck with you. We lost men and our ship due to you.” He drew his knife. "Now you will pay for it.”
Vane’s saber knocked the knife to the floor. “You would do well to remember that I am the captain. If there is any discipline to be meted out, it is done on my order.”
Hooper did not say anything, but his face had a purple tinge to it. Nevertheless, he picked up his knife and sheathed it.
“Since she is a harlot, we ought to sample her wares before we hang her on the yardarm.” Vane grinned, sheathed his sword and reached for a length of coiled rope hanging on a peg. “Tie her so that we may have easy access to her charms.”
“That’s rape, you creep.” With her heart pounding like the drum in a heavy metal band, she flipped the table, turning it on its side, and threw a chair at the lamp. The lamp fell, the oil spilled out, ignited and spread. “Fire!” She yelled. “Fire! Fire!”
Hooper swore, grabbed a blanket and fought to smother the flames.
“For that, mademoiselle, you die now.” Vane drew his sword again.
The door to the cabin burst open and Harlan stepped inside. He was drenched in black slime and smelled horrible, but she ran to him. He shoved her behind him and out into the corridor.
“Better help Hooper put out the fire, Vane.” He closed the door, shoved a hatch cover in front of it, and angled a post against it, trapping the men inside.
“Now what?” Lesley, weak with relief, could barely speak.
“We escape. I disabled the watches and the helmsman. This ship is off course and headed toward a shoal.”
The boat they had arrived in still hung on the cathead. They clambered into it and Harlan set about lowering it into the water. “I escaped the hold by crawling through the bilge. The captain intended to hang us.”
She let out a sob. “I was wrong. You should have killed Hooper when you had the chance.”
“And I should have taken your advice concerning Vane.” Harlan admitted.
The low rumble of thunder in the distance reminded her of the strange dream she had.
Now wait for the thunder. What had the widow meant by that?
As if in answer, the small horse in Lesley’s waistband vibrated violently. She took it into her hand but it would not stop. She clutched it with both hands and held it against her chest, which made her entire body shake.
Meanwhile, the wind blew harder as the storm approached causing the ship to heel over to larboard. The boat dangled precariously under the lee of the ship.
The moment the boat hit the turbulent waves, savage shouts from Vane and Hooper could be heard. The ship’s bell rang for all hands.
“We’re dead meat.” Lesley swallowed hard.
Harlan freed the boat from the ropes and the great ship quickly slid past them but it left a great whirlpool in its wake.
The small boat became trapped in the whirlpool. Around and around the boat spun as Harlan struggled to put up the sail. Lesley struggled with the oars, but she grew dizzy and disoriented with the rapid rotation.
Gunfire sounded and bullets whizzed by.
The storm broke out above them. Lightning crackled overhead and great drops of rain splattered into the boat. Lesley screamed when Harlan collapsed. In the bright flashes of light, she saw the gaping hole in his shoulder.
“No!” She cried. “No! You will not leave me here alone.” She ripped off her jacket and with the toy still in her hand, she pressed the cloth over the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
“I ... love ... ” Harlan whispered. Then his body went limp.
“Don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” She screamed. “No. No.” Her tears mingled with his blood. “I will die without you.”
The toy horse began to glow.
In the distance, she heard a horrendous crash as the ship ran aground.
At once, the smell of ozone surrounded her. A great blast of white light surrounded her and she knew nothing more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A stream of cold air blowing across her bare skin woke Lesley, but she kept her eyes shut. In her last conscious moment, she knew she had been struck by lightning. She should be dead, but her mind reeled in confusion as she touched the soft carpet beneath her. She doubted that heaven had been paved with wall-to-wall plush pile.
The whiff of a familiar scent lingered in her nostrils, which was not the tang of the ocean’s brine or the musty mold of a ship’s hold. The sweet aroma of a vanilla spice reed diffuser wafted on the gentle breeze chilling her naked body.
Daylight played on her closed eyelids but weariness engulfed her. If she had a blanket to ward off her goose bumps, she would not move an inch. She opened one eye and saw the sky blue of the carpet. She opened her other eye to see the hearth—her hearth, the one in her condo with the burnished brass frame around the glass fire doors. Moving her gaze slightly to the right, she saw the toy horse beside the antique cradle. The horse did not appear to have any bloodstains on it.
Her heart thudded dully as she stared at her hands. No blood there either. She had tried to stop the bleeding, but he had died. She closed her eyes as the memory flooded her with pain. She had lost him. She would never taste his kisses again, never make love with him or feel his touch. The hollow ache inside her grew.
Pushing herself up, she forced her eyes open and stared at her reflection in the glass fireplace doors. Yes, that looked like her though the dark circles under her eyes would need a ton of concealer. She appeared to be in good shape considering all that had happened. Or had it happened? Had she suffered a freakish psychotic fugue?
She rolled her ankle around. It did not hurt at all, but the agony of loss still hammered at her.
Harlan could not possibly be a figment of her imagination. She loved him. She did not believe life would be worth living without him—even if she had pizza, beer, lattes, and indoor plumbing.
She let the tears flow though she knew nothing would help. Turning around to pull the afghan off the couch, she discovered it wasn’t there. Blinking through her tears, she also noticed the front door stood open. Sunlight and noise poured into her living room. How long had it been like that?
Rather than risk anyone seeing her naked when she ran to close the door, she scurried down the hall to her bedroom to grab a robe from the closet. Everything else in the condo appeared to be in order—exactly as she had left it. Although, her suitcase was also in the closet, unpacked. The clothes she had packed for the conference hung inside the bags from the cleaners.
Jim’s clothes hung there, too. A spurt of anger ignited inside her.
Stepping out of the closet, she noticed her cell phone on the night table beside the bed, charging. Her handbag, flopped on its side, took up the right side of the dresser.
On the left side of the dresser sat Jim’s wallet, change, and keys.
Fury bubbled up. No matter what had happened to her, she did not want him here any longer. She would get a restraining order.
She unplugged her cell phone. When she lifted it, it lit up and she peered at the date and the time.
August 8th. How could that be? She had left on her fateful trip on October 8th. How could she have returned two months before she left? Sudden hysteria threatened to consume her. Dizzy with confusion and uncertainty she sat down on the edge of t
he bed and fought for breath.
She must have lost her mind. Maybe the migraines had caused this horrible state of confusion. Maybe she had not traveled back in time but had spent some time in a mental ward. But then the date on her cell phone should be after October 8th.
If it was August, she had not kicked Jim out of her life. Would she have to go through that again?
No. She would tell him to leave now. If he came at her, this time she would use her self-defense moves—and call the cops.
Trembling, she hurried back to the living room. She gasped when she saw Jim in the doorway. He wore only her afghan wrapped about his waist, which struck her as rather odd despite the turmoil in her mind, She steadied herself by holding onto the edge of the couch.
“I want you out of my life. Pack up your stuff and go. I have a restraining order and if you touch me you are going to jail.” Okay, she lied about the restraining order but if he touched her, he would regret it—this time. She shook as fear and fury short-circuited her nerve endings.
He acted as if he had not heard a word she said. His haunted gaze scanned the room in confusion. His voice held a note of alarm.”What has happened to me? Where are we? How can those strange carriages move without horses? It is high summer, but we sailed out in the fall.” He edged closer to her and pointed to his shoulder. “There is no scar. It is as if there was no bullet.” He whispered.”You have no bruises and you do not limp.”
Her anger paled and she sat on the couch fearing she would collapse. “Dammit. This is a nightmare. No worse than that, I cannot escape. I am probably insane.”
He shook his head. “No, it is I who has surely gone mad. I am pale and fat as a pig.” He held out his hands. “My fingers look like sausages and my hair ... did you shave me and cut off my hair? Why did you do that?”
Panic clawed at her. He looked like Jim, but he spoke with the same accent as Harlan. “Please close the door,” she asked.
He did as she bid and then sat near her on the couch.
“I remember the pain ... and your tears ... I did not want to leave you. I tried to tell you of my love.” He reached out to pull her into his arms but she pulled back.
She rocked back and forth as her emotions swirled like leaves inside a tornado. “This is horrible.”
“I am alive. You are alive. We have survived.”
“But you aren’t you.2013 She cried. “You are Jim.” A terrifying thought crossed her mind. “And if you are here in Jim’s body, where is he?”
“I am not Jim for he did not love you and I do.” His hand slid beneath the edge of her robe to caress her thigh. The pleasure of his touch melted away some of the hard knot of terror, but that did not change the circumstances. Something was horribly wrong.
“You talk like Harlan but you look exactly like Jim. Even your eyes are Jim’s eyes. It’s creepy.”
“I am here and you are here and that is all that matters. I love you. I promised to take care of you and I will keep my promise. I will not be a pirate anymore.” He deftly undid the knot on the belt of her robe and cupped her breast in his hand. She gasped as her nipples hardened. “I intend to ask for your hand in marriage.”
She started to laugh but then her laughter turned into a great sob. “You have to go back to your own time. You cannot stay here.”
“Do you still love Jim?”
“No, I love Harlan.”
“I am him, but you do not love me for I look like Jim and you despise him.” He moved away from her and she shivered at the loss of his touch. “It is the witch who did this. She said it would all be right in the end.”
Her need for him clouded her thinking. She wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms, but that made no sense because he looked like Jim, the man who had been so cruel to her. “Let’s both hold the toy horse and perhaps, if we concentrate, we can summon the widow or perhaps Elsbeth.”
“I asked Elsbeth not to haunt me anymore.” A touch of fear glittered in his eyes.
“Yes, but this situation isn’t right. You can’t just take over someone else’s body.”
“My soul and my mind speak to you.”
Though her knees did not seem strong enough to hold her, she stood and reached for the horse. Before she touched it, it disintegrated into a pile of dust. The cradle and the quilt also crumbled into dust.
She sank down and touched the gray mass. Like ashes from the fire, the gray dust clung to her fingers. “What am I to do?”
His hand swallowed hers in a tender squeeze. “Are there other people in this place.”
“No. This is my condo ... my home.”
“Let me pleasure you.”
Her heart quailed within her, but he unwrapped the afghan from his waist and lay it down on the floor.
“Come, my love.” He beckoned. “For we will be far more comfortable here than we were in the boat.”
Her gaze dropped downward to stare at his male member. She gasped and then smiled for there could be no one else with such a magnificent cannon. “I guess the witch knew what she was doing after all. Still, I suppose before I make any final decisions I could give you a test drive.”
“Test drive?”
“That’s something people do before they buy a new car.”
“Bibble-babble.”
She gave a laugh. “My dear captain, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
The End.
Pirate's Wraith, The Page 24
