There was no time for doubt. I prayed and thrust.
Air hissed out. And Rourke drew in a breath. It was shaky and labored, but he was moving air again. After a few seconds, his eyes fluttered open.
“It worked,” he said.
I nodded and smiled and then realized he was talking about me, about the cure. “That too,” I told him weakly.
I was too exhausted and ached too much to stay sitting so I lay down on the deck next to him, nestling my head on his shoulder because I didn’t want to press on his chest or ribs. Every part of me hurt...and I didn’t care at all. Clutched tight in my fist was the stone that would save Katherine and all the other women. There was a rattling, buzzing noise in the distance and I realized it was a helicopter. The Coast Guard was coming.
Rourke slid his arm around me and pulled me tight against him. From the way he hissed through his teeth, it hurt a lot to do it. But he did it anyway.
“Sorry about the treasure,” I said into his neck.
He gave a low grunt and hugged me even tighter. “Got everything I need right here.”
Epilogue
Hannah
At the hospital, we discovered that Rourke had indeed suffered a major trauma to a lung, together with broken ribs. I had two dislocated fingers, muscle tears in several places and too many bruises to count.
There was no way Rourke could leave the hospital for a few days but I had to get going: I wasn’t prepared to let Katherine suffer a day longer. So, that night, dosed up on heavy painkillers and with one hand in bandages, I left against medical advice and got a flight back to Nebraska.
On the plane, I thought about the approach I’d take with Katherine’s doctors...and quickly decided the best strategy was not to tell them at all. If I started telling them about shipwrecks and gypsy lovers and a curious stone lost for three hundred years, they’d have me locked up.
I’d prepared a bottle of the cure before I flew so, as soon as I got to the hospital, I ran to Katherine’s room. I hadn’t been able to get through on the phone before I left and I’d been out of touch for days. What if she—What if she’s—
To my relief, Katherine was sitting up in bed, paler and weaker than when I’d left her but alive. Her eyes widened when she saw me. “Where have you been?” she asked.
I thrust the bottle of oily black liquid at her. “Tell you later,” I said. “Drink this.”
She stared at it. “What—”
“Just drink it. Now. Before you have another attack.” I’d never heard myself be so forceful. I’m not a mouse anymore.
She looked at me doubtfully and then uncapped the bottle and downed the whole thing. I slumped in relief. It was over.
Katherine frowned as she licked the liquid from her lips. “You’ve changed,” she said suspiciously.
I sighed and lay down next to her on her bed. The relief of knowing she was safe was incredible, like a huge weight had been lifted from me. “More than you know,” I told her.
Several days and many tests later, the doctors confirmed that we were cured. The stone turned out to be a rare mineral containing huge quantities of a chemical the body needs to produce neurotransmitters: specifically, the ones related to shutting off pain once it’s been triggered. More tests and they figured out that our genetic condition means we can’t store that chemical like other people do. Our bodies use up their supply too early: typically, in our mid-twenties. When it runs low, pain starts spiraling out of control.
The ground-up stone gave us several lifetime’s worth of the chemical all in one go, which explained why it worked so fast and why it was a permanent cure. The chemical was easily available and the other women in our family could easily be treated: a simple injection would top them up for life. My family was safe and I stayed long enough to celebrate with them...but there was someone I needed to get back to.
Back in Nassau, Rourke was recovering. His leg was healing from the hell he’d put it through aboard the Pitbull but the original pain was still there and always would be. “Doesn’t matter, though,” he told me as I sat on the edge of his bed. “As long as I’ve got you.”
I kissed him long and deep...but I still felt guilty. He’d lost a fortune in treasure, plus his boat—and that meant he’d also lost his home. For a while, our future looked bleak.
Then Benny brought Yoyo to visit, breaking about a million hospital rules in the process. As the warm little bundle of fur sat on my shoulder, he started playing with my necklace. I’d gotten so used to wearing it, I’d sort of forgotten it was there. It was only when he drew the ruby pendant out of my blouse and I looked down at it that it sunk in. Esme’s necklace. It was worth at least a hundred thousand dollars.
“Sell it,” I said immediately. I didn’t want to part with it but I owed him. “You can use it to buy a new boat.”
But Rourke shook his head. “Got a better idea,” he told me.
There was something else I’d forgotten about. All the treasure from the Hawk had gone to the bottom of the sea, together with the chest of coins we’d found and even the ruby we’d found with the first clue. But there was still the fortune in jewels hidden in the cave. Using the necklace as collateral, we were able to mount a small expedition with a couple of trustworthy workers and a set of power tools. Within a day, we were cutting rubies and diamonds out of the rock. In three days we’d cleared the cave and set ourselves up for life.
Ratcher was facing a very different future. He’d been evacuated from the Pitbull still unconscious. And when his crew saw that their captain was penniless and without a boat, their meager loyalty disappeared entirely. They turned on him and between their testimony and ours Ratcher was charged with multiple counts of attempted murder and sent to jail for a long, long time.
Six Months Later
Hannah
“Right five degrees,” Rourke called. “Bring her into the wind and let’s pick up some speed.”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n!” I yelled, a little too enthusiastically.
Rourke muttered something under his breath but he grinned, too. I hadn’t got tired of calling him Captain yet and I wasn’t sure I ever would.
The Fortune’s Reward leaned as I brought her out of the harbor, her white sail bright against the glittering water. She was a similar size to the Fortune’s Hope: we could take a crew but today it was just Rourke, YoYo and me.
We’d moved into my great-grandfather’s house in Nassau. The first night we’d slept there, lying in bed with my head on Rourke’s chest and the waves crashing outside, I’d finally told him what had happened to my mom. He’d held me tight while I relived it one more time…and when it was over, the sound of the waves didn’t make my chest clench up, anymore. I’d let something go.
Rourke was still getting used to sleeping in a bed, not a hammock, but he said I eased the transition. There was no way I could make him live on land full time, though: that wouldn’t be right. So we’d found a balance. He’d re-hired most of his old crew plus a few new faces and we were starting to mount treasure-hunting expeditions. Once a month or so, we’d all pile onto the new boat and we’d head out to a wreck, usually on a tip Hobbs supplied.
The expeditions were crazy: sort of like a road trip with a colorful, eccentric bunch of friends. Every cabin was full and meals were eaten out on the deck with a plate on your lap. I gradually became a competent diver but my real strength was in being our on-board researcher, deciphering old log books, letters and maps. And however crowded the boat was, I always made sure Rourke and I had the master stateroom to ourselves. There have to be some advantages to being the captain’s woman.
For the first time, I got to see how he treated a crew: tough but fair, always willing to listen, and the loyalty they showed him was powerful and moving. He made sure they were well paid, even if we didn’t find treasure, though we got lucky more often than not. And I found I could help. When someone was down because he’d broken up with his girlfriend, or was feeling overworked, or just stressed, I picked up on it, and
nudged Rourke to go easy on them.
Between expeditions, we explored Jamaica and Haiti and visited Hobbs and Carla in Cuba. I’d become good friends with both of them and now had plans to matchmake both of them as soon as I found good matches. We’d also made a few trips back to Nebraska so that Rourke could meet my family. Being so far from the sea was hell, for him, and when I saw the discomfort on his face when he first looked out across the wheat fields, I almost abandoned the whole thing and bundled him back onto the plane.
But he squeezed my hand, called us a cab and made it through the whole weekend without a single complaint. And to my surprise, he and my dad hit it off immediately. They were worlds apart but they were both tied so tightly to the physical—the sea, the earth—that they were on the same wavelength.
We’d also been revisiting all of the places on the trail of clues and had tracked down some of the other locations Esme referenced in her diary. The inn, where Mace made her come six times? That turned out to be McKinley’s. There were a couple of rooms upstairs that used to house guests: Benny hadn’t used them in years but he let us stay over one night. And...well. We set a new record. And the island where the wreck of the Hawk lay was one of our favorite places, now. With its hidden, sheltered waters, it was romantic and private: perfect for moonlit skinny dipping.
We’d also cleared up something that had been bothering me all along. I’d been sad that, after all the trouble Captain Mace went to to make sure Esme got his treasure, he’d died and she’d never found it, never even found the first clue. I must have told Rourke how unfair it was about fifty times before, one night in Havana, he’d finally said, “He was a pirate, you know.”
I’d blinked. “What?”
Rourke shrugged. “Pirates were wily. Full of tricks. This plan to go down with his ship and leave Esme his treasure: very noble but...what if that was his plan B?”
I’d frowned, knocked back my mojito and shut myself in a room at the library for almost a week, refusing to come out except for food until I’d solved the puzzle. What I found was the arrival of a new couple in London society, just a few months after the Hawk sank: supposedly a long lost Count and his Countess, but they bore a striking resemblance to Captain Mace and Esme and the dates matched. Rourke had been right: Mace’s plan B had been to go down with his ship and leave Esme his treasure...but he’d never needed that because his plan A had been successful. He’d taken as much of the treasure as he could carry, scuttled the Hawk and then escaped, probably in one of the ship’s lifeboats. It must have been a perilous journey to an inhabited island in such a small boat, but then he was a legendarily good sailor.
Once there he’d met up with Esme and they’d escaped together and started a new life in London, leaving the rest of the treasure where it was. I liked the way it had worked out. If they hadn’t found their happiness, we wouldn’t have been able to find ours. And although the treasure was out of reach, nothing’s ever really lost forever. Technology was improving all the time. Someday, a hundred years from now, someone would find it.
As the harbor fell away behind us and we picked up speed, I turned and looked at Rourke. He looked as gorgeous as ever, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned body hard and perfect. He was happier, these days. He still had the limp, but he said I helped with the pain. And like the shark scars, it was part of who he was. Edwards wasn’t forgotten but Rourke had finally allowed him to become a memory.
YoYo climbed my leg, swarmed up my body and settled himself on my shoulder. I let out a long, contented breath and gazed at the endless blue ahead of me. My fear of the ocean was gone: all I felt was giddy excitement. Two-thirds of the world is water and there were a million adventures waiting for us out there. My life stretched out ahead of me: crisp, blank pages ready to be filled. “Where shall we go?” I asked.
Rourke put his arms around me from behind. His cheek pressed against mine as he wrapped me into his chest and then his lips were brushing my ear. “Let’s see where the wind takes us,” said Captain Rourke.
THE END
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Captain Rourke Page 30