The Reckoning (Legacy of the King's Pirates)

by Marylu Tyndall

  Merrick and Jonas laughed.

  Merrick ran a hand through his hair, his piercing gaze shifting between Alex and Gabrielle. "We could have been better parents. We left you and your sisters alone far too long. Foolish on our part. We were so zealous in doing God's work, that we neglected the most important work He had given us."

  "Not your fault," Alex said. "I was a grown man who made my own choices."

  Merrick grimaced. "Not unlike my foolish choices when I was your age. Must children always follow in their parents' footsteps?"

  Juliana laid a hand on her husband's. "If they end up where you have ended up, 'tis a good thing. Besides, God has forgiven us all."

  Looking embarrassed, Gabrielle shifted her eyes toward Nick and Morgan. "Must we air our family past before our guests?"

  Jonas turned toward Morgan with a warm smile. "You'll soon find that Merrick and Charlisse treat everyone, even strangers, as if they were part of their family. 'Tis what makes them such good witnesses for God. All of them." His gaze drifted to Gabrielle again, and she lowered her lashes above a smile.

  "So, you are really missionaries?" Morgan finally asked. "And pirates?" she added with a laugh.

  "'Tis more like missionaries to the pirates," Merrick said. "Though I'll admit to doing some pirating in my past."

  "Not to mention the occasional letter of marque which allows you to privateer." Alex plucked another piece of meat from the tray.

  Morgan sipped her wine, finding it the only thing that settled her stomach. "I don't understand how you can convert pirates. Aren't they pretty much set in their ways?"

  At their odd looks, she added. "Evil, thieves, wicked people who don't care about God and being good."

  Alex's eyes--so piercing like his father's--shot to her. "Mayhap, miss. But we don't tell them they have to be good."

  "Then what kind of missionaries are you?"

  Charlisse shared a glance with her husband. "We tell them they are loved. We tell them they have a good Father, a loving Father, the Creator of all things, who made them and loves them so much that He died for them."

  Morgan withheld a cynical snort. "And that works?"

  "Everyone wants to be loved and valued." Merrick took his wife's hand in his. "Once they truly believe that God loves them despite all their wickedness, it changes them."

  "Love never fails," Charlisse said.

  "It casts out all fear," Gabrielle added.

  "Amen," Nick and Jonas said together then shared a smile.

  Morgan stared down at her uneaten food, feeling like a stranger among these people. They spoke about God as if He were in the next room, as if they really knew Him. If she were honest, after everything that had happened, she didn't believe God loved her. But what did it matter? She still went to church, read her Bible, prayed and did everything right. Well ... almost everything.

  "When are we going to rescue Rowan," she blurted out. "I can hardly eat for fear of what he suffers."

  Merrick kissed his wife's hand then leaned back in his chair. "Tomorrow. At sunrise. Do we know where Bloodmoon is heading?"

  "Aye." Nick swallowed the food in his mouth and washed it down with wine. "Something aboot a Spanish treasure fleet sailing from Nombre de Dios."

  Merrick nodded and glanced at his son. "We've heard of it. There's more than one pirate headed to plunder them."

  Candlelight twinkled in Alex's blue eyes. "Then we'll have to find Bloodmoon before he joins them."

  Morgan's breathing returned to normal. Thank God they intended to do something.

  A knock on the door startled her. After Merrick's "Enter", a short chubby man entered bearing a paper in his hand and an anxious look on his face. He gave it to Merrick, who broke the wax seal and held it to the candlelight.

  Charlisse slowly rose, her face tight and lips pursed.

  "Is it about Reena? Pray tell, Merrick, what does it say?"

  Alex and Juliana also rose.

  "It is as we feared. She has run after Freddy, trying to save him."

  "But how can she?" Charlisse's voice cracked. "Pray tell, what ship?"

  "HMS Viper, apparently."

  Alex snatched the letter and perused it. "Do Kent and Isabel know?"

  "Nay." Merrick turned and stared out the window. "They were to meet us here in a fortnight. I will leave word where we have gone."

  Charlisse sank back to her seat and raised a hand to her throat. "We must find her. We have to save our baby."

  Nick leaned toward Morgan. "Reena is their other daughter. I heard them speak of her before."

  Alarm prickled over Morgan, even as her stomach sank. Surely they would go after their own daughter first before rescuing a pirate who caused his own predicament?

  Chapter 21

  Morgan stood at bow of the Redemption, gripping the railing with both hands while balancing her feet on the heaving deck, suddenly rethinking her decision to come above as the ship set sail. But she'd had a horrid night filled with nightmares of Rowan dying a torturous death, calling out for her to save him. Several times when she'd woken in a cold sweat, she thought she saw shadowy creatures hovering above her bed. She would have written them off as tricks played by moonlight coming in through the window. Except there was no window. So, she'd cowered beneath her covers all night, longing for day to arrive. As soon as it did, she left the spooky cabin and came above.

  Now, closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath of fresh Caribbean air, spiced with tropical flowers and life, as she listened to Captain Merrick bellow orders behind her.

  "Let fall main and fore topsails! Haul aft the sheet!"

  Footsteps pounded and men shouted further orders as some scrambled across the deck while others leapt into the rope ladders leading above. The boat jumped, seawater misted over her, and she opened her eyes just as the Redemption emerged from Kingston Bay into the open sea. Ahead of them--with sails looking like pregnant bellies against the rising sun--the Reckoning plowed through the sea, while one glance over her shoulder revealed the Ransom following in their wake. Three mighty bo--ships, two captained by former pirates turned missionaries, and one whose captain still roamed the seas in search of treasure.

  Despite her tight nerves and upset stomach, Morgan wanted to remember this magnificent moment--the glorious feel of the wind and spray on her face, the heaving of the ship beneath her feet, the sight of majestic ships parting the foamy water, and the way the wind flapped her long flowing skirts and fingered through her hair like a long lost lover.

  If she was going to die, better to have lived this adventure during her last days than slowly shrivel away in a hospital bed while people visited with pitying looks and flower arrangements sporting silly balloons that vainly wished her well.

  Charlisse, back in her pirate garb, appeared beside her, startling her from her morbid thoughts.

  "Thank you for going to save Rowan first," Morgan shouted over the wind. "Nick told me that Reena is your daughter, and she's in some kind of trouble."

  A momentary shadow crossed Charlisse's expression, but then it was gone. Turning, she closed her eyes to the rising sun as it scattered gold and peach jewels over the turquoise sea.

  "Rowan is in trouble too," she finally said. "And much closer. God is with Reena until we get there."

  Sounded like something Morgan's mother would say. "I'm sorry she's in trouble. I know my mother totally freaks when she hasn't heard from me in a while." Speaking of her poor mother, the woman had probably checked into the funny farm by now not knowing what happened to Morgan.

  Wind flipped Charlisse's curls into her face, but she shoved them away and studied Morgan curiously. "Where is your mother?"

  "San ... home. Probably worried."

  "You should send word to her."

  Morgan wished she could. She nearly laughed at the contents of such a letter.

  Mom,

  Don't freak, but I've been transported back in time to the year 1694. I'm on a pirate ship sailing to the rescue of the notorious p
irate, Rowan Dutton, who's been captured by the vile and evil pirate William Bloodmoon, who is torturing him because Rowan slept with his wife and stole a treasure map leading to a great fortune buried on an island.

  Her mother would have a conniption fit, down several pills, and call her church for emergency prayer.

  Maybe it was better Morgan couldn't send a letter.

  Smiling, she faced forward. Rowan's ship started to turn. Wind dribbled from its sails, causing the canvas to flap violently like the mouths of hungry birds seeking sustenance for the day. Finally, they caught the wind and bloated. "I should have gone back to the Reckoning with Nick." She had wanted to, longed to be near memories of Rowan, but everyone seemed of a different opinion.

  "On a ship full of pirates? 'Tis no place for a lady."

  "Nick would protect me."

  "He would try, to be sure, but with the captain gone, the men may not be so willing to follow the code they signed." The ship rolled over a swell, but Charlisse barely shifted her boots for balance. She smiled at Morgan. "Besides, Gabrielle and I are thrilled to have another lady on board."

  "You've been very kind. Thank you."

  "I would love to get to know you better, Miss Shaw. From whence do you hail? Who are your parents? What dire straits led you to stow away on a pirate ship?"

  "My story is not that interesting, I promise." More like unbelievable.

  Charlisse nodded and gazed over the sparkling water. "I came to these seas searching for something as well, and I ended up on a pirate ship just like you. Captain Merrick's actually. A lady all alone on a ship full"--she lowered her voice and gripped the hilt of her cutlass--"of lusty, cutthroat pirates."

  Morgan chuckled at her pirate accent. "But you survived."

  "Yes."

  "And fell in love."

  Charlisse glanced over her shoulder at her husband, standing on the quarterdeck, feet spread apart, wind flapping his shirt and hair. "Indeed."

  "And it's been smooth sailing ever since?" Morgan asked, curious as to what kept them so happy together.

  Charlisse laughed. "With Merrick? Nay! We've had our share of troublesome times. Every marriage does."

  Some more than others, apparently. "What is your secret?"

  Charlisse cocked her head and studied Morgan. "Love God with all your heart, keep Him at the center of your marriage, and find a good man."

  Morgan couldn't help but grin at the simplicity of her advice, naive though it may be. Her parents had both been Christians, and she was sure her mom thought her dad was a good man when she married him.

  "So, Miss Shaw, what did you come to the Caribbean in search of?"

  Morgan stared out to sea. "Nothing. I'm not looking for anything." Truthfully, she wasn't, hadn't been when she boarded Rowan's ship. She'd just wanted to hide--from Jason, from her life, from her cancer.

  The ship creaked over a wave, misting them with cool water. Charlisse put her hand on top of Morgan's. "Sometimes we may not even know we are searching for something."

  Morgan had no idea what that meant.

  "Helm ten degrees to starboard! Ease sheets and braces!" Merrick bellowed and Jackson repeated, adding, "Let go fore tack!"

  The Redemption veered to the right, following the Reckoning, white foam spewing off its stern.

  Morgan gripped the railing tighter. "Did you find what you were looking for? I mean, besides Merrick?"

  "Yes, and much more," Charlisse said. "I'll tell you all about it sometime. But first, you must answer me one question."

  "Sure."

  "By all that is Holy, how did you ever fall in love with Rowan Dutton?"

  Morgan's heart stopped beating. She tore her eyes away from Charlisse's taunting grin and faced forward again.

  She didn't answer. Mainly because she didn't even know if she had fallen in love with him. Sure, she cared about him, but love? Crud. Was it that obvious? Foolish, foolish girl! She rubbed her temples where an ache came to life. Begging off with a headache, she excused herself and headed below, hoping to take a nap, willing to face her haunted cabin rather than confront her feelings for Rowan. But instead, the rolling of the ship and the roiling of her stomach prevented rest. So, she paced, stared in the small mirror hanging above the dresser, brushed her hair, practiced lighting the candle with flint and steel--never getting the hang of it--and paced again. Like a caged cat, she felt more anxious than she'd ever been, more desperate for escape. Why? She was safer than she'd been since she'd arrived in this time. But something was terribly wrong, an evil foreboding she'd felt since she'd come aboard the Redemption, a restlessness that went beyond her normal jitters.

  Gabrielle came to take her to dinner, but Morgan insisted she wasn't feeling well. The sweet lady lit a lantern and said she'd have some tea sent down right away. But instead of just tea, Charlisse knocked on her door a few hours later and carried in a tray of food. From the darkness out in the hallway, Morgan assumed night had fallen.

  A chill followed Charlisse into the room, and Morgan hugged herself and thanked the woman for thinking of her. Leaving the door open, Charlisse set down the tray and urged Morgan to sit and eat.

  "I'm not hungry."

  Back in her gown, Charlisse pushed down her skirts and sat on the cot, patting the spot beside her. Happy for the company, Morgan lowered to sit, but as the moments passed, she felt more and more uncomfortable in this lady's presence. There was something in the way Charlisse was looking at her--as if she were once again prying into Morgan's deepest secrets.

  "You're ill." Charlisse broke the awkward silence between them.

  Morgan bit her lip. "Yes, as I said. My stomach is upset."

  Charlisse took her hand in hers. "You're so tight, so nervous. Bound up in fear and anxiety."

  Morgan's heart thumped out of control. "How do you know that?" She always tried her best not to act like a nervous nelly in front of others. In fact, most of her friends were surprised to find out she was on anti-anxiety meds.

  "I sense spirits on you."

  "Spirits?" Morgan jerked her hand back and scooted away. "You aren't some kind of witch doctor?"

  "Of course not. Evil spirits, Morgan. I sensed them on you when I first saw you."

  "She has the gift." A deep male voice resounded from the door, and Morgan looked up to see Merrick entering, lantern in hand. He shut the door behind him, set the lantern on the table, and took a seat.

  Panic sifted through all rational thought. "Are you both nuts? What are you talking about?" Morgan scanned the tiny cabin and saw no way of escape. "This isn't some kind of intervention, is it?"

  Merrick rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "I don't know what that is, Miss. We've only come to help. You see, God has given my lovely wife the gift of discerning spirits."

  Morgan swallowed, her pulse racing as she searched her memory for where she'd heard that before. Yes, in church. The gifts of the Holy Spirit from Corinthians, if she remembered. Her pastor had only mentioned them in passing, not giving them much credence.

  The ship creaked. Water pounded against the hull. Morgan shifted uncomfortably on the seat and hugged herself.

  "What is your relationship with God?" Charlisse asked.

  So that's what this was about. Morgan lowered her shoulders and released a breath. "You don't have to evangelize me. I'm a Christian. I believe in Jesus and all. Geez, you really are missionaries." She gave a half-hearted smile.

  Charlisse returned her smile and took Morgan's hand again. "Anxiety and fear are strong in you. Like snakes, they have coiled around you, suffocating you, robbing you of the life God wants you to live."

  Visions of the huge snake that nearly crushed Morgan flashed before her. "Wait. If you're talking about demons, Christians can't have demons." She repeated something her pastor had said.

  The deck tilted, and Merrick leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "They can't possess a child of God completely, but they can inhabit and torment if a person allows."

  "Well, there you go." Morgan fli
pped her hair over her shoulder. "I never allowed them. In fact, I've been trying to get rid of them for years."

  Not that it had done her much good. Not that she believed in demons, anyway. "Besides, they aren't demons. I'm just a nervous person. I got it from my mom."

  Charlisse cocked her head. "'Tis true. Not everything is demonic. But some things are." She squeezed her hand. "And you must believe me, I sense them on you." She continued to hold Morgan's hand tight while she closed her eyes. "There's another spirit here. A spirit of sickness, disease, death."

  Morgan's gut knotted. Her palms grew sweaty. She tried to yank her hand back, but Charlisse held it tight.

  "Cancer." Charlisse opened her eyes.

  "How do you know that?" Morgan jumped to her feet. Had Edith told her? But no, they'd never met.

  "Right here." Charlisse raised her hand to hover over Morgan's right side.

  Okay, this was getting a little too freaky. Hugging herself, Morgan backed against the wall. "There's no way you could know that." She bent over, trying to catch her breath. "My heart. I feel like it's going to explode!"

  "They know their time is short. They are only trying to frighten you." Morgan felt Charlisse's hand on her arm again.

  "They're succeeding." She managed to cough out.

  "We want to pray for you, Miss Morgan." The sound of Merrick's boot steps filled the air. "God wants to deliver you from these oppressors. He wants to set you free."

  "Can you even do this?" A cyclone of needles sped through Morgan, crimping her with pain. She looked up to see Merrick standing behind Charlisse, his eyes flooded with concern, care, even love. "I mean, Jesus dealt with demons, but that was a long time ago, and He was God."

  "God never changes," Merrick said. "And Jesus told us we would do even greater things than He did."

  Charlisse tightened her grip on Morgan. "Do you want them gone?"

  "Of course." Morgan flattened against the wall, feeling the knotty wood press into her stays. "Have you done this before? Is my head going to spin around? Am I going to spew green vomit? Don't we need a priest?"