A Pirate's Possession (16 page)

“I swim fine,” she said instead.

“Half the sea takes flight when you attempt to swim.”

“Attempt to swim?”

“You can't call what you do swimming.”

“Then what would you call it?” she asked.

His lips curved slightly. “Near drowning.”

“Drowning, is it?” she asked a moment before she cupped her hand and sent a spray of water flying.

He turned his head, but not before catching half of it fully in the face. Laughing, Claire did it again.

“That's it,” he growled. He took a deep breath and plunged under.

The water was clear and it wasn't difficult to see Nate glide beneath the water, but it proved impossible to avoid him. Screaming, she kicked when he reached for her legs. Her arms worked the water, water splashed into her eyes, and her legs thrashed to keep Nate away.

All her attempts failed, and soon she felt his hand curve around her ankle. Knowing what he intended, she took a gulp of air before he tugged her beneath the surface. Underwater, eyes open, he released her ankle and swam circles around her, each time pulling her back when she tried to surface. Finally he stopped, grinning at her. When she saw the lighthearted teasing in his beautiful green eyes, she was reminded of all the fun times they'd had, the laughing they'd enjoyed so much. It made her heart tremble to remember.

He kicked his way to the surface, leaving Claire to follow in his wake of bubbles.

“You always were a braggart,” she muttered when she sputtered to the surface.

He laughed and swam close enough that she could see the water droplets hover on his dark lashes.

“And you never were any good at swimming. Come on, let's see if we can find anything.”

They swam around the rocks, with Nate diving below to search between the stones while Claire scrambled up the rocks. Nate came to the surface, wiped his face of water.

“There are no markings, not even a hint of anything shiny on the bottom.”

Claire shook her head. “I don't see a marked waterline from here either.”

Nate turned around slowly. “I don't think it's hidden in sand, do you?”

“No. I think they'd have been more clever than that.”

“No point in staying then.”

By the time they swam back to shore and trudged back to camp, Claire was beyond exhausted.

“I saw some nests not far from here. I'll see about fresh meat for our supper while you change.”

“Thank you,” Claire said.

Nate's gaze lingered. “You're welcome,” he said softly. Then he disappeared into the forest.

Claire exchanged her wet clothes for the ones that now hung dry on the line. They were dry, but not clean, she thought, and she wrinkled her nose. And they were stiff, she grumbled to herself as she pulled the fabric up her legs.

When she was dressed, she lay down on the bed and promptly fell asleep.

She awakened to the smell of meat and her belly's growling response. It was mostly dark, with only the glow of the fire to light their small camp. Nate was squatting beside the fire, turning a small spit over low-burning flames.

Claire leaned on her elbow. “Smells wonderful.”

He glanced up, released the spit, and poked at the coals. “I found some turtle doves and was able to catch a few before the rest took flight.”

“Can I help?”

“They're done. I was mostly keeping them warm while you slept.”

“You could have woken me,” she said as she climbed from the bed and settled before the fire.

“You looked too peaceful.” He took down the spit, slid the meat off onto a plate. Using a knife and fork he'd packed, he cut the meat and put some onto another plate. He handed one to her. “Besides, if tomorrow is going to be anything like today, it's better if you're well rested.”

He picked up his plate and set it on his lap.

Famished, Claire dug into her meal. She was almost finished when she looked up and realized he hadn't eaten at all.

“Why aren't you eating?”

He set down his plate, ran frustrated fingers over his face. “I'd hoped to find the treasure today.”

She knew he was lying; it was in the frown that creased his forehead and the thin set of his mouth. What she didn't know was why. Hadn't they, despite the lack of treasure, had a great day? Hadn't they laughed and teased as they once had? He'd smiled as they'd frolicked in the water, and for those few moments, it was exactly as it had been between them all those years ago.

To Claire it had been a wonder. She hadn't laughed and played that way in so long she'd lost hope that she still could. She'd forgotten the sheer happiness that could come from being carefree, if only for a few stolen moments. Did he regret what she'd already tucked away in her heart to hold on to when the treasure was found and she was once more alone?

It seemed so, for when he picked up his plate again, instead of eating, he tossed his food into the fire.

“I guess I wasn't hungry.”

 

 

It was one of the longest nights of Claire's life. She watched the fire burn itself out, watched the coals turn from red to black. The forest quieted, other than the occasional swish of a leaf. She hadn't dared move, nor had she spoken when Nate moved in the bed behind her. And she knew by his breathing that he'd been as awake as she. For the last while, though, his breathing had evened and his body had relaxed into sleep.

When the sky began to lighten, and Nate was snoring lightly, Claire eased from the bed. She felt dirty and was tired of wearing filthy clothes. Scooping up her bag as she went, Claire made her way to the beach. After ensuring that the horizon was free of ships, she dug out the bar of soap from her bag and waded into the sea. She scrubbed her clothes until there were no visible traces of dirt, then she spread them out on the beach to dry.

The sun crested over the horizon, instantly warming the air. With no ships in sight and knowing she'd left Nate sound asleep, Claire stripped to the skin and washed those clothes as well. When they were laid out next to the others, she slipped back into the water for the first full bath she'd had in far too long. Though she washed often, the opportunity to go completely naked and do a thorough job didn't often present itself.

Humming, she tilted back and floated. Clouds thin as a spider's web drifted in the sky as lazily as she did on the sea. Gulls soared overhead looking for their breakfast. With time yet before their search resumed, Claire lingered, enjoying the gentle lapping of the water, the occasional squawk of a gull. When the idea struck her, she didn't hesitate. She began to swim.

She'd watched Nate often enough to see how he did it, and she tried to mimic his movements. Arms arcing over her head, she stroked through the water. She concentrated on kicking harder, on pulling herself along with her arms. Still she didn't think she was swimming as well as he had, but after practicing for a while, she thought she was doing a better job of it. At least Nate wouldn't be able to tease her about drowning any longer. Not that she'd really minded because it was nice to have him tease her rather than be angry with her.

Satisfied with her efforts, Claire turned for the beach. Her heart jumped with a flutter of panic.

“How did I get so far out?”

She should have been paying better attention. The shore was far away and the clothes she'd spread on the beach looked like something a doll would wear.

Telling herself that all she had to do was what she'd been doing, she began to swim for shore. Only now she wasn't doing it for fun or practice, and she was no longer enjoying herself. All attempts to swim like Nate were lost when the wind suddenly gusted, mocking her efforts. She didn't seem to be making any ground at all—the beach was as far away as it had been five minutes ago.

Her breathing was becoming labored, and Claire's muscles began to burn. Fighting panic, she did what she could to make it to shore, somehow knowing through the choking fear that her attempt at swimming was worse than any she'd managed thus far.

The sea splashed in her face with each stroke. Saltwater rose up her nose and burned her throat. It was becoming more and more difficult to lift her arms out of the water. She turned onto her back. Pushing through the pain in her legs, she kept them kicking. She didn't want to die today, damn it.

There was much yet she wanted to accomplish. She wanted a home, a family. She couldn't die, not while she had nothing to her name and nobody who loved her.

“Oh, God, don't let me die like this,” she prayed, kicking harder.

The wind eased a little, and it was all the encouragement Claire needed. She flipped onto her stomach and with a driving determination repeated what she needed to do over and over again in her mind.
Up and over, up and over. Breathe. Don't stop kicking. You can do this
. The words became a song and in her head she had them marching to a rigorous rhythm. When the wind gusted again, Claire growled.

“You won't win, damn you. I won't let you.”

Yet she knew there wasn't much left in her. Her strokes were getting slower and the energy behind them was waning at an alarming rate. Because of that, she didn't dare rest because she was afraid if she did, she wouldn't be able to get going again.

She hadn't wanted to focus on anything but swimming, and therefore she'd deliberately not looked all the way to shore. Seeing how little progress she'd made once had been disheartening enough. If she again saw that she wasn't accomplishing anything, it would be that much harder not to surrender. And she'd rather die trying than die surrendering.

She gave it her best effort. She truly did. But in the end, her arms simply gave out on her. Her lungs felt as though she were breathing in knives. Tears streamed down her cheeks and mixed with the salty sea. Her heart was full of anguish. She'd never felt so alone. Would she find a peace in the afterlife she hadn't found in this one?

She raised her head, needing to see the shore, needing to see it one last time.

It was closer. She was certain it was closer. She blinked through her tears. Yes, her clothes didn't look as small as they had.

Knowing her arms were spent, Claire turned onto her back and once again began kicking to shore.

The waves were no longer as strong and Claire knew she was making progress. She kept focused on a puff of cloud and never stopped moving her legs. When she couldn't even do that anymore, she let them drop, hoping she'd come far enough to touch bottom.

“Oh God,” she wept when she couldn't feel anything beneath her feet. “Oh, God, no!”

She willed her body, biting her lip until the salty taste of blood mixed with that of the sea. She thrashed, yet her arms barely came out of the water. Her legs felt heavy and barely moved at all. Soon she was bobbing in the water, her mouth scarcely above the waves. Her head slipped beneath the water. She arced her neck, strove for the surface, and was able to draw in a quick breath before the water closed over her again.

Her lungs were on fire. Her muscles nothing but limp extensions of her body. Claire had survived many things in her short life—the loss of her parents, hunger, sickness, pirates, and a life no woman should be forced to live. She'd dug deep within herself in those times to push herself, to survive despite the odds against her.

She dug in that part of herself now. There wasn't much left, but she had to hope it would be enough. With the last of her strength she pushed her head out of the water. She spit the sea from her mouth then took a last breath. Before she went under for what she knew would be the last time, she spilled her breath in the loudest scream she could manage.

She could only hope it would be enough.

 

 

Nate was, by nature, a patient man.
Not today
, he thought, slapping aside another vine. Claire had been gone when he'd awakened. He'd thought she'd left to tend to her morning needs, but when she didn't return, he'd begun to worry. Worry soon gave way to anger.

She was after that damn treasure and they had an agreement, dammit, one he'd clearly been foolish to believe. She had no more intention of honoring it than the promise she'd made years ago to wait for him. In itself, that alone should have driven every other thought from his head.

Instead he was foolish enough to be concerned. She could get hurt or lost, and without him knowing in which direction she'd gone, he'd be incapable of helping. If she did get hurt and her injuries were serious, he may not get to her in time.

He flung a branch out of his way and stormed through the jungle like a bullet. By the time Nate strode from the trees onto the beach, he had a head full of steam. It didn't dissipate when he saw her swimming. But it sure as hell did when he realized how far out she was.

And that she was in trouble.

Even as he ran for the water, he saw her head slip under. His heart stopped until she came to the surface again. But then he knew a raw and biting fear when she thrashed to the surface and screamed. He heard the panic in it and barely took the time to throw off his boots before racing into the water. When the water was deep enough, he dove in. He kicked hard and pulled himself in long strokes before coming up for air.

When he did, Claire was nowhere to be seen.

Twelve

Fear, a blinding fist of it, gripped Nate's heart and refused to let go. He swam faster, harder than he ever remembered swimming before. He stopped only long enough to scan the surface. Nothing! He couldn't see her!

“Claire!” Nate shouted. His arms and legs circulated, keeping him afloat. The only thing that answered him was the raging of the blood pumping through his veins.