The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,251

Cate said unsteadily. She dashed the wetness from her cheek with a trembling hand. “When you’re with the man you love, you’ll look forward to doing those things.”

Cate couldn’t help but smile at that. Ah, yes! All of them, again…and again…and…

Prudence’s expression hardened into that of one accustomed to being told anything but the truth. “And if you don’t—love him, that is?”

Given what Cate knew of Creswicke, she felt as if she was tossing a lamb to the lion. Rubbing at a sudden pang in her temple, she tried desperately to think of a way to not dash the girl’s hopes, while not building unrealistic expectations.

Damn you, Father Collingwood, wherever you are!

“Well, sometimes love takes its time,” said Cate, lamely.

God, as if the child had any.

Whether satisfied, disappointed, confused, or embarrassed, Prudence allowed the subject to perish. She bent over her stitching with renewed purpose. Cate sat on the sill, ostensibly supervising. She stared at her hand clenched in her lap, her ring gleaming dully, and battled the memories now unleashed. She had learned long ago that once the floodgates were opened, blessed little would stop them. Thomas’ resemblance had brought Brian so very near.

Brian’s face rose up, his lake-blue eyes glowing with need. She looked up to see him leaned against the firemantel, the flames gilding hip and thigh, shining like a copper helmet on his hair. She blinked and he was in bed, head pillowed on his arm watching her undress. He lifted the blanket, inviting her in. She closed her eyes and they were under the stars, making love their last night together, his mouth and hands memorizing her every surface and curve.

Cate’s breath caught in a half-choked sob. Tears welling, she lurched to her feet, stammered a vague excuse and ran from the cabin. Solitude was what she sought, but it was a ship; there was no privacy. She ran to the forecastle and pressed her forehead hard against the rail, in hopes the pain might erase the anguish. The swirling visions only came faster, crushing and devastating, threatening to drive her to knees.

“Are you well, luv?”

Cate whirled around at being touched. Too shaken to speak, she stared at Nathan through a shimmering blur of tears.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, softly. The vertical lines of his face deepened with concern.

Nathan shook her gently by the shoulders and called her. She dimly thought how rarely he used her formal name. The fact he did so now showed the level of his alarm.

Her mouth moved, but no words came. She began to quake. Emanating from deep within, the tremors jolted through her, until her bones seemed to rattle against each other. She swayed then crumpled against Nathan and sobbed. She clung to him, fearful of the great pit that yawed at her feet, where demons named Isolation, Heartbreak, Loss, and Hopelessness waited. She cried for things she hadn’t cried for in years, things thought forgotten, and then from the pain of having done so. There were the things she had, and those that she never would. She pounded at his chest at the unfairness of it all.

Time was lost; Cate had no idea of how long Nathan held her. Slowly she quieted, the floodgates closed, and the ghosts retreated. Still, she clung to him. His shoulder under her cheek, so solid and warm, he promised the safety and protection she hadn’t known for so very long. Defender? Provider? Confident? He was so many things, and yet no knight in shining armor.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “It’s not…”

“Hist, now” he murmured against her cheek. “’Tis all well. Ol’ Nathan is here. You’re safe.”

Cate sank against him, molding her to his body as he swayed with her. Gradually the tension drained, her muscles twitching and jerking as they released. Her face hot and swollen, eyes throbbing knots, she sniffed again. He offered his sleeve, encouraging her to blow. Embarrassed, and with little choice, she did. Murmuring nothings, he dried her face with his other sleeve, then brushed away the strands of her hair stuck in the tear tracks.

“God! I’m a mess!” she choked, dashing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make such a fool out of myself. I just…all of a sudden…I…”

“No worries, darling. You were crying for him.” Nathan thumbed away a few straggling tears. The corner of his mustache lifted in a smile that failed.

“How did you know?”

Nathan gave a tight-lipped smile, the corners of his