by Lynn Hubbard
She glanced at him, not sure if he was kidding her or not. She sipped at the warm tea and finished her bread and cheese. Tristan offered her a strawberry and she took it from him. The sweetness surprised her; it was so difficult to find the good ones. She licked the juice from her lips and pushed him away with a squeal as he tried to cleanse her lips for her. Giving him a quick peck, she escaped through the door and headed down into the hold.
The mood was somber as Sarah noticed a covered body. She pulled back the blanket and stared down upon the boy. He had been sickened with dysentery. She had hoped the fresh food and water would help, but it was too late. He was too weak to fight.
A hand squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at Wit, the crewman who had suggested the dunking the day before.
“He died free, can’t ask for more than that,” Wit spoke in his gruff voice.
Sarah nodded, forcing back her emotions as she had learned oh so long ago. He wasn’t the first dead boy she had seen, and probably would not be the last. She watched as he was carried up the stairs to be tossed into the sea. It was too risky to store his body until they landed. Although it sounded horrid, being buried at sea was seen as an honor for many.
Sarah moved on to tend to the living. Her body automatically doing what it must, while her heart grieved in silence. She finally came upon Jonathan, who was grumpier than ever. “How are you?”
“Ready to get on deck,” he practically snarled.
Sarah took it in stride. “Well, let’s see how you’re doing.” She pulled back the blanket to press on his abdomen. Checking several different sections and getting “No’s” for all of her questions of pain, she noticed the blanket beginning to tent lower down. Embarrassed, Jonathan tried to hide his growing excitement even in his weakened state. Sarah remained professional and pulled the cover over the rest of him.
“Looks like you’re getting your strength back,” she teased. “Alright, you can move to the deck, but only soft foods for the next day or two. Your stomach isn’t used to rich foods and they will come back up,” she warned.
He nodded his reddened face without speaking and Sarah moved on to the next patient. Everyone was improving somewhat; it would be much better once they reached land. Especially for those with dysentery, who were ill anyway.
Her queasy stomach would love a reprieve from the constant motion, and being in the hold only made it worse. Coming to her small pox patient, she was surprised to find him alert. She felt his forehead and found it cool to the touch. A quick inspection showed his lesions were all scabbed over and in various stages of healing. He would bear scars, but he would live.
The next two days at sea were the same. Two more men perished, but the rest grew stronger day by day. Her days were spent cleaning and washing, her nights were spent in Tristan’s arms. Life was surreal at the moment and she was unsure about what would happen when they reached land. Tristan’s end of the bargain was fulfilled. Would he abandon her?
Chapter 27 Almost Paradise
She was woken by the call of seagulls. The angry birds screamed their threats and Sarah reluctantly got up to start the day. There was much energy on deck and she grabbed Wit as he moved past. “What’s going on?”
His bearded face broke into a grin, showing off his blackened teeth, “Land!”
She hurried to the railing and looked over; in the distance she could make out a thin strip of land. She could not wait to feel solid ground under her feet again. There was lots of work to do, regretfully she pulled away from the enchanting view and headed below to ready the men for transport.
The hold was practically empty; all of the men that were able bodied were on the deck enjoying their freedom. She went around changing out dressings and organizing her supplies to take on land. The waves grew stronger as they neared the island and Sarah sat down to keep from falling. A metallic clanking could be heard as the heavy anchor and chain were tossed into the sea.
She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Tristan with a triumphant smile on his face. “Land!”
Sarah could not refuse a chance to tease him. “And I thought you loved the sea.”
“I do, but I know that you will be happy to be in the light. Men are rowing over to scout out the island and set up an area for recovery. We should have everyone moved out within the hour.”
“We’ll be ready,” she replied, grasping his hand and squeezing it. She wanted to do so much more, but she felt uncomfortable in front of her men.
Her men, the ragged pack of half-dead soldiers. She had grown close to them over the past week and she wouldn’t trade them for a whole battalion of Brits.
Tristan released her hand and cupped her check; with a tender smile he turned and returned topside.
Sarah gathered up the covers and directed Wit and the other crew to help the sick to the top deck. With the hold once again empty, she grabbed a mop and again washed it down with vinegar. She knew she could assign this task to one of the crew; however, it kept her weary mind busy.
She had mixed feelings about landing; the fresh air and steady ground would do wonders for the few ill still in dire need. No, what was worrying her was Tristan. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain and she knew not what he expected next. They had never discussed anything beyond the rescue. Except for the silly ruse he had told the Colonel about them heading to England to marry. Time was ticking away and she was scared; the depth of the feelings she had for him frightened her.
After Silas died, she didn’t think her heart would ever mend. That she would never be able to love again, or be loved. The ache was still there as she thought of her family, but it wasn’t as deep. It was not all consuming as it once had been. Was her heart less full of grief? Or had it just stretched to love some more?
Her arms and back ached as she finished her penance; however her thoughts were still troubled. She grasped the bucket and headed up deck to face her future.
Jonathan greeted her as she grasped the items and returned them to their place. Sarah had not seen him in a day or two and she was surprised by his transformation. His once pale skin was now sun kissed, giving him a healthier hue. His strength was greater from the regular meals aboard the ship and even though he was still quite thin, a broad grin spread across his face.
“Isn’t it the most remarkable thing you ever saw?” he gestured at the island. Sarah looked down to watch the deep blue waves breaking onto the sandy beach. Further back, the island was covered with a dense forest of lush, green trees and rocky cliffs.
It did seem surreal; she had never even heard of lands such as this. The plan was to stay here and rendezvous with the Sea Maiden. She had worried about the ship’s safety, but Tristan assured her all would be fine.
For Jonathan’s sake, as well as the crew’s, she hoped he was right. Of course Tristan was hardly ever wrong.
“Ready Miss?” a gruff voice asked, and she actually jumped at the intrusion. She turned to the brusque looking man with arms the size of tree trunks and nodded. She was ready. Jonathan followed her as she was led to the rail; she looked down at the small rowboat. She hated this part. She watched the tree man climb down and the other man climbed up to rest after several crossings.
“Coming?” he asked again. Sarah nodded in reply and cautiously grabbed the rope ladder and threw a leg over the side. She felt for the rung and then followed with her other leg. She stood still, trying to gather her courage. A brisk wind blew, billowing up her skirt. Her face blushed red, and needing no other encouragement, she lowered herself rung by rung. She reached the small boat and was almost tossed over the side until the man grabbed her arm and pulled her down to a bench.
“Haven’t lost a passenger today, and I ain’t gonna start with you.”
“Thanks,” Sarah replied. Jonathan joined her as well as four others. The boat was pushed away from the Vixen with an oar and two men started a steady pace, pulling them closer to land.
Sarah turned her attention back to the ship, her eyes seeking out Tri
stan. She found him standing by the railing; wind was whipping through his glorious blond hair as he watched her go.
Sarah felt eyes watching her and she reluctantly looked way. The motion in the small boat was more pronounced and she felt sick as nausea washed over her yet again. Her hand clutched her queasy stomach and she drew in deep breaths, trying to calm herself.
Jonathan chuckled at her, “You’ll feel better soon; land doesn’t move as much.” Sarah nodded, dipping her hand into the cool water and splashing it on her face and neck.
The men rowed as far as they could and the small crew hopped out, dragging the boat as close to the beach as possible. Sarah gratefully grasped Jonathan’s arm as he helped her out of the shifting boat and into ankle deep water. Her dress was getting soaked, but she didn’t care. She waded onto the land and sat in the sand with relief.
She was tired from mopping, but walking the short way through first the water, and then sand, seemed to sap the rest of her energy. She still felt a bit dizzy but was pleased she hadn’t hurled. Ignoring her now wet dress, covered in sand, she sat and watched the small boat make trip after trip. She knew she should check on the ill, but she trusted Wit. She could see them further up the beach near the trees. If anything were urgent, he would yell for her. The soothing sound of the sea, and the caressing breeze lulled her to sleep.
***
Tristan oversaw the remainder of the supplies and food moved to the beach. Some of his men would stay on board to secure the ship. He was anxious to be with Sarah. He didn’t trust his men completely to be around her alone. Hell, he didn’t like the idea of any man being near her. The thought surprised him; he hadn’t felt so protective over his other conquests. A conquest? Is that all she was to him? He turned his head as a shadow moved next to him. “Go ahead; I’ll keep an eye on Vixen.”
Tristan hesitated just for a second before nodding in agreement. “Thanks, Zack. I can always count on you.”
“Of course, I’m loyal to the end,” Zack replied, his smile not quite meeting his dark eyes.
The short journey to land was uneventful. Tristan’s gaze swept the shoreline, taking in all of the activity, or lack thereof. His men seemed to be enjoying their reprieve on the small island. Tristan had stopped here several times before. It was too small to be inhabited, but would be a great place to hide away for a bit.
His eyes drifted over to Sarah, her still form was curled up on the sand and he started toward her in concern. Kneeling next to her, he brushed the loose strands of hair from her face. She looked more peaked than he recalled, and his brow creased in worry.
Her eyes blinked open, revealing the distinctive green that reminded him of spring. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, pushing herself up to a sitting position.
“I guess I was more tired than I thought.” Her eyes flitted over to the section of beach for the infirm.
“They are fine. It is you I’m worried about.”
“I’m fine, now that I’m on land. I would make a dreadful pirate though,” she joked, trying to reassure him. It did not work.
“You need to eat. I’ll work on our shelter, and then you will rest.”
“But…” Her rebuttal was cut off with a glance, and she watched him move down the beach to talk to his men. A plate of bread and cheese was soon delivered and she nibbled at it, trying to settle her stomach.
She had hoped being on land would help in that aspect, however she still had the sensation she was moving. She took a bite of the mild cheese and chewed slowly. A thought tickled at the back of her mind, that perhaps it wasn’t seasickness. A number of ailments that caused nausea swam through her mind. None of them were reassuring.
She watched as several men joined Tristan and used axes to hack out pieces of wood from the forest to build a shelter. She knew they could all stay on the ship if they wanted, but she needed a break. Overhearing the other newly freed men, they were happy as well to be off a ship and on land.
She heard a groan and turned to see a tired-looking Wit flop down next to her. “Don’t see why we’re abandoning a good ship.”
She smiled at him. “We aren’t abandoning it. Tristan thought it would be a good place to meet up with Gabriel.”
“And you?”
“I think the men will heal faster being out in the fresh air.”
“How can air heal people?” he scoffed.
“It can heal their soul,” she replied. “Which is just as important, if not more, than their bodies.”
Wit snorted. “I’d rather be on the sea than lookin’ at it.”
“You can head back, it’s not too far.”
“Arms are too tired. Made four trips already,” he grumbled.
“Perhaps you need some more air,” she teased.
Tristan returned later and offered her his hand. “Your shelter is ready.” She took it and stood up slowly. Nodding goodbye to Wit, she followed Tristan into the tree line.
He led her to a small lean-to covered with an old sail. He pulled back the flap to reveal a small area barely large enough for one. She tried to hide her smile, knowing the effort he and his men put into it.
“It’s very…sturdy.”
“I thought I would keep you secreted away. Besides it’s only for a little while.”
Sarah turned and wrapped her arms around him. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with you.” She lifted her face up to meet his lips as they descended down onto hers.
A shot resounded through the stillness and Tristan cursed, moving her from him. “Stay here!”
She stood in shock, watching him run toward the beach. Who would be firing? It couldn’t be another ship; they would have been alerted. The wind carried the sound of men’s shouts toward her. Hesitating for a second, she took off after him. The sandy ground pulled at her feet and she fell, landing on her hands and knees. Looking up, she could see most of the men shouting and waving at the Vixen. Confusion settled over her, until she realized the sails were up and the ship was slowly moving away.
She could see men scuffling on the deck and she screamed out as another shot erupted and a body fell into the water. Forcing herself to her feet she pushed her way to the front. She looked frantically for Tristan and spotted his golden head in the water. Using powerful strokes, he swam quickly toward the injured man. The water around him was turning darker and Sarah prayed for their safety. Her eyes darted between the two men slowly making their way back to shore and the man on the Vixen holding the pistol. Sunlight glinted off the barrel as he leveled it to the water and took aim.
“Noooo!” a gut wrenching yell tore from her throat as the pistol discharged again.
Someone grabbed her arm. “Get back!” Wit’s rough voice ordered.
“No,” she repeated, no other words coming to her mind.
Wit shook her roughly. “Listen! That ship has much bigger guns to worry about than that pea shooter.”
“But Tristan...” she sputtered, as he dragged her back toward the trees.
“Tristan can take care of himself; nothing is gonna happen to you on my watch.”
“Your watch? You’ve been spying on me?” she asked with a hint of anger.
“Tristan was worried for your safety. He wasn’t sure all of his men would accept his change in allegiance.” Wit explained.
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t deal with this now. I have to get to Tristan.” She turned to head back to the beach and stopped short, seeing him in front of her. He was soaking wet and had a grim look on his face. His sleeve was tinged with blood and Sarah immediately started tugging it up his arm.
He stilled her hand. “It is not my blood.” His eyes rose to meet Wit’s. “Fredrick is dead.”
Wit’s face was impassive; only his clenched hands relayed his pain. This was a man who had seen death before, too much before. Sarah’s hand went to her mouth; she hadn’t known him well but knew he was one of Tristan’s confidants. Her heart ached almost as if she was feeling his pain. She couldn’
t help but to feel that she was to blame for this. For the loss of his ship, for the loss of his friend.
Chapter 28 Worth
Tristan, exhausted mentally and physically, sat on the sand, holding his head in his hands. He was the perfect picture of despair. Sarah dropped to her knees by his side.
“Tristan, it will be alright.”
He looked up at her with an incredulous look on his face. “Alright? Did you not see our ship just sail away? Or the men slain trying to stop them? Do you not realize we only have enough food and water for two or three days?”
“But the Sea Maiden...”
He barked out a laugh, “The Sea Maiden was supposed to have followed us to the Island. We should have met up with her at sea. She is lost as well. Everything is gone.”
“Listen, you may have given up hope, but I have not. The Sea Maiden will come, and we will sustain ourselves as well as we can until then.”
“And how can you be so sure?”
“You said it yourself. Gabriel is the best Captain there is. If you have any faith at all, have faith in that. Now your men need a leader. Get on your feet and lead!”
Tristan looked into her face flushed with anger and determination. She must despise him. After all, it was he that used her for his own pleasure. He had promised safe passage for her men, and due to his own short-sightedness, he had doomed them all. Could he face his men and give them false hope?
At one point in his life he would have no qualms of doing just that; had he grown a conscience? He looked up, seeing Wit and the faces of his men watching him expectantly. The only sound was the rustling of leaves as the wind caressed them and the waves crashed onto the beach.
Finding an inner strength, he stood. “There has been a change of plans; it appears our stay may be indefinite.”
“What about the Sea Maiden?” a voice called out.
