The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,201

and I are aboard, you’re to be in charge of those remaining ashore…and her! Need I review the consequences, if anything should happen?” A not so subtle shift of Nathan’s eyes punctuated his meaning.

In a clatter of ivory, Hodder snapped to attention and executed a salute that would have merited the Royal Navy. “No, Cap’n! Rest assured”

“Good man.” Nathan wheeled around to Cate. “You will be going on that little forage of which you were so anxious.”

“Forage?” she goggled. For a moment, she thought she had misheard. Nathan’s sudden change was quite transparent, and she was going to have none of it. With a ship bearing down, next to Nathan was so very much more inviting. “But you said—”

“There’s what is commonly referred to among pirates as ‘an emergency,’” he said, with an edge of sarcasm. “We do what me might to avoid them, but there’s a limit to what Providence allows. Mr. Pickford!”

“Aye, Cap’n?” came the answer in short order.

“You’re familiar with these islands?” Nathan’s inquiry was superfluous, since Pickford had been made master of the foraging details.

“Aye, sir! Like the back o’ me hand.” Pickford rocked on his toes with pride, setting the garland of dried ears swinging at his neck.

“Very well, a-foraging you shall go, and you’re to take her with you,” Nathan added with an emphatic jerk of his head.

Pickford blinked in surprise, but made no comment. Cate felt the stab. Once again, Nathan couldn’t bring himself to call her by name. She could count the number of times on one hand—a few fingers, in fact—that he had ever done so.

“Roam far, and do not come back, no matter what you hear. Comprendes?” He spoke to Pickford, but bore her with a look, as if he harbored doubts of her ability to follow orders.

…no matter what you hear…Cate didn’t want to contemplate what that might signify.

Suddenly her knowledge of the pirate world seemed woefully lacking. Did they get on or did they fight like territory-minded dogs? Was the Brotherhood, as Nathan had referred to it, exactly that, or was it an allegiance limited to shipmates? Warring nations or alliances?

Her worry must have been evident; Nathan smiled in the spirit of reassuring her. It didn’t. With surprising familiarity, he squeezed her shoulder, and then gave it an encouraging pat.

“No worries, luv. As I said, I know who it is, but you don’t live to be an old pirate being careless. I’ll come for you as soon as I may. Now go. Go!” Nathan repeated more firmly when Cate didn’t move. “I can’t pay proper attention to a bloody thing if I have you to worry for. I’ll come when I can. Now go.”

Again, she understood his cost for having her about. She looked to the circle of grim faces on the awaiting foragers. The jury was in, unanimous.

“The minute it’s safe,” she insisted to Nathan.

“The. Minute.”

Nathan prodded Cate toward Pickford. “And try not to give the poor man anymore gray hairs than ’tis absolutely necessary,” he called after her.

With visions of flashing sabers and roaring great guns, Cate knew all too well how capricious life could be, how it could take violent turns. She also knew the pain of remorse, the fruitlessness of wishing what one should have done or said. Swept by a wave of panic, she wanted to throw her arms around Nathan and tell him everything in her heart.

Instead, Cate heavy-footed behind Pickford, feeling like an unwanted orphan. She paused at the treeline for a final look, but Nathan was already lost among his men. She could hear his graveled voice drifting down the beach, barking orders no differently than on deck.

Cate left the white glare of sun and sand, and plunged into the trees’ deep shadows. As the undergrowth closed in, the sea breeze died, and the air grew heavy with heat and moisture. The high canopy of trees afforded protection from the sun’s full blast, but its sultry presence was still felt. Beatrice’s bright blue plumage could be seen soaring overhead. Paralleling their path, she lighted from tree to tree, pausing to indulge in the occasional treat.

Looking up, Pickford paused next to Cate. “She’ll call out if there be aught alarming.”

Cate looked back toward the now-obscured shore, and wondered if “aught alarming” was happening there. She eyed the men surrounding her. Ordinarily made up of clusters of four or six, this detail consisted of over a dozen, each known for his marksmanship. A single musket would have been the standard, and yet