Vincent appeared, carrying what Blake needed and whistling a lively tune. His face had been washed but the tattered clothes remained. It wasn’t easy for Vincent to find clothes that fit; therefore, he didn’t own a large range of extra items.
“What do you have there?” Nate asked, lifting his head to see.
Vincent passed him a bottle. “Here, drink this. The last time you were hurt, you whimpered like a baby.”
“The hell I did,” Nate grumbled but he took the bottle nonetheless and drank a hefty mouthful before lying down again. “Make it quick.”
Since the carpenter was busy with repairs and their surgeon was one of the four who had been killed, Blake was taking it upon himself to see to Nate’s wound. Had it been a gunshot, he would have demanded the carpenter do it. Since carpenters were sometimes called upon to perform surgeries, he would have more experience. But as it was, the bleeding had mostly stopped and Blake felt confident he could do a clean job of it.
“It’s going to hurt,” Blake warned.
“So don’t scream,” Vincent teased.
“Kiss my—holy hell!” Nate roared when Blake yanked the wood out.
Setting his jaw against the pain he knew he was causing, Blake grabbed the cloth Vincent passed him and pressed it to the wound. Nate’s body jerked and blood seeped through the cloth, which soon became sticky beneath Blake’s hands.
“You were lucky, it didn’t go in too deep.” Still he had to make sure all the splinters were out and he cringed when his fingers probed and Nate moaned. Satisfied it was clean, Blake nodded to Vincent. The dwarf passed Blake a bottle, then moved to Nate’s head to bring another bottle to his lips. When Nate had drunk a healthy gulp, Blake tipped the bottle he held directly over the wound.
“Jesus Christ!” Nate roared.
Vincent patted him on the shoulder. “There, there. We’re almost done. And even better, as the crew’s busy with the ship, hardly anyone heard you wail like a baby.”
“You won’t be laughing when I punch you for that.”
“I’m trembling,” Vincent laughed. He took Nate’s rum and drank some himself.
Blake smiled as he listened to the banter, then he threaded the needle and set to work.
The sun was at its highest peak in the sky before Blake finally had a moment to take a breath. From the instant Nate had called to him that morning, the work had been endless. He’d helped transfer the barrels, tended to Nate, and put his back into getting his ship clean and assessing the worst of the damage. If what Blake had seen from that one barrel held true for the rest, they stood to make a hefty profit, even after the ship was restored.
“It could have been worse,” Vincent said, stepping onto the crate he’d pushed next to Blake.
Blake stared at the churning water behind his ship, his mind as agitated as the sea.
“Thankfully it wasn’t.”
“A shame we lost Billy and the others.”
“We did our best.”
Vincent eyed Blake, knew by the strain around his mouth his friend was in pain.
“Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though, does it?”
Blake ran a hand down his face, exhaled heavily. “No, it doesn’t.”
“It’s been a hell of a day so far. Why don’t you go down and see Alicia? There’s nothing going on here I can’t handle.”
Indeed there wasn’t. The mood on the ship, despite the treasure, was woeful. Sadness prevailed and even the smell of the delayed midday meal being prepared didn’t offer any encouragement. They’d lost four men and everyone felt the loss.
Blake nodded. “All right, you know where to find me.”
When he opened the hatch and began down the stairs, the sense of home wrapped around him and eased some of the weariness from his shoulders. Here he wasn’t captain, wasn’t the man the others turned to for guidance. Here he could be Blake and he could take the time to mourn the men he’d lost. He could hold Alicia until he felt settled again. Alicia, he thought, shaking his head. Who would have thought that the girl he’d hated would become the woman he needed?
His smile vanished when he reached the bottom and she wasn’t there. Where was she? The battle had ended hours ago; she wouldn’t still be hiding under his bed. His chest clutched. She hadn’t gone above in the midst of the chaos, had she?
“Alicia?” He spun around, eyes scouring the room. “Alicia!”
From behind the steps he heard a sob. With his heart in his throat, he raced around the ladder. He found her behind the chest, back pressed to the wall, curled into a tight ball. Her knuckles were white where they held her legs close.
“Alicia?” he asked, bending to one knee. He placed a hand over hers, shocked to find it icy cold. “Sunshine, are you hurt?”
A mewling sound came from her throat.
His stomach fell. He’d checked the hull, hadn’t seen any holes, and had assumed she was fine. Then, he’d had so much to do. Why the hell hadn’t he taken two damn minutes to check on her?
“Can you talk? Please tell me if you’re injured.” He ran his hands down her arms and legs but felt nothing but her trembling.
She raised her head and Blake felt as though he’d been punched. Her hair was disheveled, her face was pale as dawn, and the look in her eyes knocked his breath away. She seemed completely shattered.
“Did someone hurt you?” His vision reddened at the edges. If anyone had laid a hand on her …
She shook her head, and Blake’s vision cleared.
“It’s all right. We’re all fine. Nate and Vincent, we’re all here.” He didn’t tell her about the deaths; there was no point in distressing her further.
“It’s not that,” she said, and her eyes spilled again.
Feeling utterly useless, Blake wiped away the tears with his thumbs.
“I remembered,” she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut. “I remembered everything. It was pirates.”
It took a moment for the full meaning of her words to become clear, but when it did, he cursed. She’d remembered her family being murdered and she’d been alone when she had. Her shoulders shook with her sobs, and he couldn’t keep up with the flow of her tears. Not knowing what else to do, Blake moved beside her on the wall and drew her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her head.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he murmured as his hand smoothed over her back.
“I thought I wanted to know,” she cried. “But now I wish I d-didn’t.”
Blake had never heard such despair and had no idea how to ease it. Since he hadn’t been through anything as unspeakable, he could offer no words that would bring comfort. He wished a thousand wishes: that he could’ve spared her this or that he’d been there sooner. That he could reach within her and take her pain as his own. Instead he held her and let her tears slide down his chest. He could only hope his presence was helpful.
Alicia felt like a clam who’d been ripped open and scraped until she was raw and empty. Everything hurt. Her head throbbed from crying, her throat chafed when she swallowed, and her chest felt as though someone were sitting dead center over her heart. The torrent of tears had passed—considering she’d cried for the last few hours, she was surprised there were any left—and only the occasional one trickled down her cheek. Exhausted and spent, she leaned into Blake and welcomed his support. At least she was no longer cold and shaking. Her hand rested on his chest, and beneath her palm was the calming rhythm of his heart.
He said he wished he’d been there when her memory returned, but Alicia was glad he hadn’t been. With the first blast of the cannons, when the sound had howled from both overhead and below, she’d been pelted with images from her past. Only this time they weren’t disjointed bits. They were complete and clear and they’d caught her unprepared.
“The noise was the same as that awful night. I’d forgotten how loud it was.”
“That’s what brought the memories back?” Blake asked.
“It must be. One minute I was sitting on t
he bed and the next I was on the floor and my head was bursting with images.”
Blake leaned to the side, placed a hand under her chin. “Can you tell me?”
Her chin trembled and she bit down hard on her lip.
“I’d heard the noise first. Before I had time to figure what it meant, my mother was running into my cabin. She was so scared, Blake. Her face was ashen, her hand shook when she grabbed my arm. I knew whatever was happening was dire because she was holding me so tightly,” Alicia said and rubbed at her arms. It was as though she could feel her mother’s fingers digging into her flesh.
“I didn’t know fear could have a smell, but it did that night. It hung heavy in the air, and with each breath I took, it filled my lungs until I was choking on it.” She looked into Blake’s dark eyes. “Your father was right—it was pirates. I caught a glimpse of one when we ran from the cabin. My mother hid us in the bilges, and we sat in that stinking water while they destroyed our lives. While my mother held me and cried, they laughed and cheered.
“That feeling I told you about, of being cold and wet? Now I know what it meant.”
Blake took her hand, uncoiled her fingers, and laced his with hers. He squeezed gently. “How did you and your mother get off the ship?”
Alicia sorted through the newly found memories. “It seemed hours that we waited while they ran up and down the stairs, stripping the ship bare. They never came as low as we were, but we didn’t move until the ship fell silent. We’d thought they’d left. But then we heard voices and movement again so we stayed longer. Only when we were both shaking from the cold and it had been another long while since we’d heard anything, did we move. We waded through the water—it had gotten much deeper since we’d been below—and made our way up the decks.”
“Had they gone?”
“Yes. She told me not to look, to keep my head high, but I couldn’t miss the blood, Blake, it was everywhere. We were stepping over dead bodies and severed limbs and slipping on the blood.” Alicia pressed a hand to her mouth, breathed deeply until she knew she could continue without throwing up.
“She screamed for Sam and my father. The one blessing was that we didn’t see my father that night. I’m not sure either of us could have taken that.”
“Is that when you left the ship?”
“She was thinking of how best to do that when something exploded. I remember a searing pain, like my face was on fire, and then I was falling.” Alicia had to take a steadying breath. “I saw her as I fell; she was hurt as well. Her nightgown was torn and there was blood on it. Her eyes filled with horror and she screamed my name.” Alicia looked down at her hands. “That’s all I remember before waking up in your father’s house. She must have taken me from the ship and swum us to shore. She was hurt. I don’t know how she managed to get us to shore.”
Blake said nothing, simply drew her back against his chest. His lips pressed to her head, his arms held her closely. Safely.
“He should have never done it,” Alicia said, her heart squeezing. “If he hadn’t, they’d still be alive.”
“Who shouldn’t have done what?” he asked.
“My father. If we’d stayed in London, none of this would’ve happened.”
It was strange how the memories came after six years of being lost, but Alicia could see her old home in London, could remember the words and the tones from the line of people who’d tried to talk her father out of selling his home and most of his possessions for the sake of an adventure.
“He thought it would be such fun for me and Sam to see more of the world, to be able to come back with such grand stories.” She scoffed. “I think it was he who yearned for those things, but we weren’t sad to leave London either. Especially Sam. She loved the ship. I remember wanting to play with her, but all she was interested in was being at the helm.”
“You remember your sister?”
Alicia nodded, felt the flicker of excitement through the despair.
“When I went to the plantation where Sam had been, I remembered her hair being brown. Now I remember the rest. And I’m sure the Samantha that Captain talked about is her. Didn’t he say she was building boats with her husband? That sounds exactly like something Sam would do.”
“Sam?”
“Her pet name. Only my mother called her Samantha.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I miss my mother. I miss her so much, which sounds stupid because until a few hours ago, I didn’t even remember her.”
Blake eased Alicia away, looked her in the eye. “Doesn’t change who she was, Alicia.”
“It’s Alicia Fine, by the way.”
He smiled, kissed her hand. “Either name you go by doesn’t change who you are. And you’ve every right to miss your mother.”
She sniffled. “I know, and yet I feel that I’m disrespecting Anna at the same time. Blake, your mother was wonderful to me. I loved her, I truly did.”
“And knowing her, I’m sure she felt the same. Likely tickled to have had a daughter for a while.”
“I know I should be happy I was blessed with two sets of parents, but I feel cheated. They’re both lost to me, and unlike Jacob and Anna, I never was given the chance to say good-bye or the opportunity to give my real parents the burial they deserved.”
Blake leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her cheek. “We can do something for them in Port Royal. We can have a service, you can make some fancy markers out of steel. They won’t be nameless anymore, I promise you that.”
Love for Blake surged through her.
“They’d be proud of you, Alicia. Just as I know my parents were.”
Tears filled fast, blurred her vision. “Thank you. And I know they were proud of you as well.”
“I’m not sure I believe that, but I’d like to think so.” He took her hand, pressed a kiss into her palm. “So, now what?” he asked.
Alicia took a deep breath. “Let’s go find my sister.”
Fourteen
“We’re almost there,” Blake said.
Alicia had been at the bow all morning, watching the horizon. St. Kitts had begun as a speck in the distance, and now, as they approached, she could see houses and businesses, people moving about, and ships in the harbor.
“The sand is so white. Even from here it’s sparkling.”
Blake put his arm around her shoulder. “You can’t possibly be thinking about the color of the sand at a time like this.”
She turned her face to his, forced a smile.
“I was so sure Captain was sending us to the right Samantha, but now the doubts are crowding my head. What if it isn’t her? What if it is and she isn’t here? Maybe she’s left. I don’t think I can take much more, Blake. My stomach is in my throat. I just want to see my sister. A delay now would be torture.”
“If she’s not here, we’ll keep looking until we find her.”
Alicia wrapped her arms around Blake, drew in his scent and his strength. He’d been her rock yesterday. With memories swirling in her head, both the good and the bad, he’d been the constant she’d needed. His presence had allowed her to go into the past, to revisit her newly remembered life and all the emotions that went along with it, knowing that when she resurfaced, he’d be there to hold her, to wipe her tears.
They hadn’t made love, nor had they talked, but Alicia knew what was in her heart. Staying within the circle of his arms, she pulled back to look at him. His eyes squinted against the glare of the sun, but in them she saw all she needed. He was a good man, an honest and fair man. She placed her hands on his freshly shaved cheeks and felt the heat from the sun on his face. Her heart did a quick jump when the words formed, but she let them come.
“I love you, Blake.”
His hands clutched on her back. Since she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, she kept talking.
“I didn’t expect this and I’m not saying this with any expectations. But you’ve given me something I’ve never had. Because of you, I feel beautiful. Because of you I’m going to fi
nd my sister.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, lingered when he took it over and turned a simple kiss into a sensual banquet that heated every part of her.
“You’ve no idea,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, “how much hearing you say that means to me.”
“Really?”
“A man would be foolish not to want you to love him.” He smiled, kissed her again. “I’m no fool.”
She laughed. “No, you aren’t. You’re handsome and stubborn”—she giggled when he scowled at that—“and a wonderful man. Whatever happens, Blake, I’ve no regrets.”
His eyes took on an edge of steel. “I should hope not or it’ll make the next twenty years damn uncomfortable.”
Her stomach, already jittery, quivered. “W-what?”
His smile came slow and sure. “I love you, Alicia, and as you’ve already admitted to feeling the same, then I think we have a better beginning than most.”
Blake watched Alicia, felt rather smug about the fact that she couldn’t seem to find any words.
“Blake, man, surely you can do better than that,” Vincent said as he strolled closer. “After all, it isn’t every day a woman is proposed to.”
Blake sighed, bowed his head. When he’d come to the conclusion last night that he wanted Alicia as his wife, he hadn’t envisioned Nate and Vincent around when he asked her.
“Much as it pains me to say it, Vincent’s right, Blake,” Nate said. “A woman should be wooed and have all sorts of fancy words bestowed upon her. Alicia, darling, if you allow me, I could do so much better than this pathetic display.”
Alicia giggled, and Blake turned to his friends—though that distinction didn’t apply at the moment—while keeping an arm across Alicia’s back.
“Don’t you two have work to do?”
“I don’t, do you?” Vincent asked Nate.
Nate shrugged. “Can’t think of anything.”
Neither man moved. They simply stood there expectantly, arms crossed and smiles on their faces as though they had every right to witness this moment.
Romancing the Pirate Page 14
