A Pirate's Heart (St. John Series) (15 page)

Chapter Fifteen

She loved him?! No, surely he had heard wrong. He must be mistaken. If his own mother couldn’t love him, then no woman could. Pulling her closer, he looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Her long dark lashes rested on her high cheekbones, her full red lips were slightly parted as she slept. The corner of his mouth curled upward as a faint snore exited her mouth.

She had turned his world upside down. Never in his life would he ever have imagined a woman disrupting his life the way she had. He acted and behaved in ways that weren’t in his nature. When he saw that man’s hands on her the other day, he would have killed anyone trying to stop him from getting to Ronald. He wanted to protect her. No, he
needed
to protect her, and he would continue to do so.

The realization of what had transpired hit him full force. They had argued about getting a divorce, yet as he lay there with her in his arms, he realized he didn’t want a divorce. He enjoyed her company. She was smart and witty. He never knew what she would do or say—which normally infuriated him—but coming from her, he found it refreshing. He found himself wanting to please her and keep her happy.

He hadn’t planned on getting a divorce until he made sure his babe didn’t grow in her belly. A thought crossed his mind—as long as he kept her in his bed, a baby would most definitely be made. Would that be such a bad thing? Sure, a ship would not be a desirable place to raise a child, but it would ensure that he stayed married to Kristina.

Why was it so important to him to remain married to her? This marriage was not planned; it was thrust upon both of them by Alex in his frustration. Max was outraged about it, that much was true. But wasn’t Kristina as well? Didn’t she say she did not want to be married to him? No, she said it would have been nice to have him as a husband. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to feel that way. He didn’t know the first thing about being a husband. Mr. Bailey, the owner of the tavern he grew up in, was far from a role model to base husbandly actions on. He knew she wanted love. What little love he had was ripped out of him thanks to the bitch that brought him into this world. He wasn’t even sure if he knew what that emotion was anymore.

The soft chime of the clock struck six. They had been resting for over an hour. He knew he should wake her, that Samuel would be coming to find her, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He placed a faint kiss on the top of her head. The subtle scent of her rose-scented hair invaded his senses. She so loved her nightly baths.

Easing his arm out from under her head, he quickly dressed. He watched her sleep for several more minutes before he left his quarters. As he closed the door, he turned towards the sound of Samuel’s footsteps.

Before Samuel could speak, Max instructed, “Kris is still sleeping. Fix the men a light fare for breakfast.”

Samuel nodded his head as he quickly headed back towards the galley.

Max made his way to the deck. Several of the crew were bustling about sleepily, still not fully awake for their four-hour watch. Smitty was at the helm. Max didn’t think that man ever slept. In their ten years together, Max had always seen Smitty awake. Even when they went on their jungle excursion, Smitty was always the one taking watch.

He approached the old pirate. Smitty just stared at Max, but said nothing. Max knew Smitty was waiting for him to say something about what had transpired last night, but he did not want to give the old sea dog the satisfaction.

Smitty just kept starring at Max, not saying a word. Finally Max couldn’t take it. “Is there something you would like to say, old man?”

A small snort escaped Smitty. “I see you and yer wife made up.”

Max could never figure out how Smitty knew everything that transpired on this ship. Every last intimate detail he knew about. There wasn’t a secret safe on this ship. Max believed if someone so much as sneezed, Smitty would know about it before the person becoming ill did.

“What makes you think so?”

“Cause. Ya’ve been below deck too long. Figured you two either made up er killed each other. Since you’re a standin’ here,” Smitty said as he looked Max up and down, “and appears ta be no harm done ta ya, figured you two made up.”

Max ignored the man’s insightful observation. “When do we make berth in Nassau?”

Smitty chuckled at Max’s change of subject. “Three or four days,” he replied before continuing with the conversation he wanted. “So where is she now?”

Smitty’s inquisition was working on Max’s nerves. He shot Smitty a look that told him to mind his own business, but it didn’t work. Smitty had been on
The Abyss
with Max too long for the younger man to intimidate him any longer. When Max first came aboard, Smitty made sure to take a wide berth around the gigantic man with the devil’s temper. After several months, he befriended Max and began to learn his moods, his temperament. Smitty knew just how far to push before Max exploded.

“Well, pup? Where is she? Ya didn’t kill her, did ya?”

“No,” Max grumbled.

“Well?”

Max took a frustrated breath. “She’s asleep.”

Smitty nodded his head at his acceptance of Max’s answer. He had become quite attached to the spirited woman. They hadn’t had many conversations, but he always had an eye on her. He observed how well she treated Samuel, which pleased him as well as the captain. She had great patience with the boy. Samuel had been cautious of trusting anyone since his mother’s murder.

As if she knew she was the topic of conversation, she appeared from the shadows, up the stairs towards them. Kristina was dressed wearing one of the outfits Jules had given her. She had on a pair of black trousers that hugged her hips. The red shirt she was wearing was tucked into the waist of her black pants. The ocean breeze caught one of the oversized sleeves and pulled it tight against her arms. She pulled the tapestry print vest around her tight, in order to keep the front of her blouse from filling with the warm ocean air. A long strand of her braided hair had escaped its confine and wrapped around her face. She caught the escaped tress and tucked it behind her ear.

Max just watched her, mesmerized by her beauty. Never in all his days had he ever seen a more beautiful woman. She was from the tales of stories and legends, not flesh and blood.

Smitty looked over at the younger man and shook his head. He knew it! He knew Max was intrigued by this beauty, but the look in his eyes was beyond fascination. If Smitty had to put a word to it, he would call it love. Smitty smacked Max on his back and broke the siren’s spell over the younger man.

Max’s lowered his gaze to slits. “What the hell is she doing up here?”

“Why don’t ya go ask her?” Smitty replied with a mischievous twinkle to his old eye.

“Good idea, old man,” Max stated as he marched to the woman in question. “Why are you up here?”

“Well, good morning to you, too,” she replied, her hostility matching Max’s.

Max took her arm and attempted to lead her back below deck. “The deck is no place for a woman.”

“No?” she questioned as her brow shot up. “Well, let me inform you of something, Max. I am not one of your crew, so don’t try to boss me around or intimidate me with your ill humor. I just happen to be looking for Samuel. So, if you don’t mind, get out of my way.”

Before Max could respond, Uveah shouted from the crow’s nest, “Sail ho! Starboard side!”

“What now?” Max grumbled as he went the railing and pulled out his spyglass. He raised it to his eye and let out a small curse. “It’s
The Sea Witch
! To stations! Someone get the capt’n now!”

Max turned towards Kristina. He grabbed her arm. She could tell from his movements that something was amiss. Ushering her into passageway that lead to the galley, he yelled, “Samuel!”

Max’s tone caused Samuel to jump as if he had been shot. “What?!” he yelled back as he emerged from a storage room.

Max said nothing as he walked past the boy. Samuel followed Max and Kristina into the galley. Max turned to Samuel. “You take Kris, keep her safe.”

“What’s going on?” the boy questioned.

“
The Sea Witch
is closing fast. I’ll be right back. You two wait here,” Max instructed them. He left Samuel and Kristina in the galley and proceeded to his quarters. Quickly returning, he handed Samuel a pistol and a sword. He turned to Kristina. He placed a cutlass in her hand and the pistol in her waistband.

“Do you know how to use these?” She looked at him with fear in her eyes, but did not answer. “Kristina?”

She nodded her head and gave a weak, “
Si
.”

“Good.” Max turned to Samuel. “Keep her safe and don’t let anything happen to her. Understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kristina watched as Max left the galley. She looked nervously at Samuel and could sense his anxiety. She watched as Samuel walked to the small portal and looked out. When he looked back to her, his eyes had narrowed. Turning, he began pacing the floor like a caged animal.

The tension of the upcoming battle could be felt throughout the ship. Kristina could hear the crew on deck make ready to do battle. Several shouts were yelled as one of the crew dropped a cannon ball. The echo of the rolling ball vibrated throughout the galley.

Kristina jumped when Smitty came in and closed the portal. He looked around the galley. “Better get ready. The fun’s about ta start,” he said. He turned and walked casually out of the room as though they were about to partake in tea.

Fun? How could he call an upcoming sea battle fun? Kristina was scared beyond reason. Oh, how she wished Max was in the galley with her. He always made her feel safe.

Several minutes passed. The distant sound of a firing cannon could be heard. It was answered by
The Abyss’s
cannon.

“They’re checking the range of each other’s cannons,” Samuel said as he looked at Kristina. He knew her fear. He had been in several battles since his time aboard
The Abyss
and they still frightened him.

She looked at Samuel. “What do we do?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.

“Nothing. We wait. Hopefully one of our shots will sink that bastard and he can drown in Davey Jones’s locker.”

“Who commands that ship?”

“His name is Henry Ravenclaw,” he answered. “He used to own
The Abyss
until the capt’n won it from him long ago. Henry’s been tryin’ ta reclaim her for years now.”

There was another echo of cannon fire throughout the ship. Ravenclaw’s ship returned volley and their shot made contact with
The Abyss
. Kristina cringed as she heard the wood splinter from above her followed by screams of pain. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her fear. Her eyes grew large.

“Max?!” she exclaimed with worry.

“He’ll be fine,” Samuel assured her. “He’s survived many battles. This one will be no different.”

The Abyss
returned cannon fire, firing the twelve pounders. The deafening roar caused Kristina’s ears to ring. Kristina cringed when another volley of cannon fire hit
The Abyss.
She covered her ears from the deafening roar of the battle. The cannon fire waged on for what seemed like eternity. More screams could be heard by the crew as another cannon ball struck
The Abyss
. The sound of something rolling across the deck resonated throughout the galley. Someone shouted. There was another loud round of cannon fire from
The Abyss
and the ship became quiet.

“Wait here,” Samuel instructed her as he started out the door.

Kristina didn’t listen. She followed Samuel up top. She looked towards the enemy vessel and could see that the last volley of cannon fire had severely damaged her. The top of the main mast of the opposing vessel was broken in two by a chain-shot. As she surveyed the damage of
The Sea Witch,
she concluded that it had been hit multiple times by the cannon balls that were connected by iron chains.

Her eyes scanned
The Abyss
looking for Max. Her eyes traveled to where
The Sea Witch’s
blast had damaged the railing of the ship. She slowly walked in that direction as if in a trance, her eyes looking everywhere for him. The sulfuric fumes burned her lungs causing her to cough as the billowing smoke watered her eyes. She squinted, attempting to see through the smoke, her eyes scanned the deck looking for her husband. Then she spotted him, and her heart sank. Max was lying on his side; a trail of blood was trickling down the side of his head. His eyes were closed and he was unmoving.

She raced over to him and pushed the other crewmembers who were tending him away.

“Get back!” she yelled at them and knelt down beside him.

“Help me roll him over,” she said to Slim.

The tall Jamaican did as instructed. He had witnessed her fury last evening and did not wish that wrath upon him now.

“I need a bucket of water!” she ordered as she pulled Max’s knife out of the sheath on his belt. She cut the sleeve off her shirt and dipped it into the bucket of water brought to her. She began cleaning the large gaping wound across his forehead, near his hairline.