know when your time comes, it comes. There’s no stopping it and there’s no denying it.”
The heel of Nathan’s boot rapped an idle tattoo against the wooden seat. “Never really thought about it; never really thought me time would ever come.”
“Charmed?”
He smiled. His bells tinkled as he lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Mum claimed as much.”
Nathan rose and went to the rail. He toyed with a ring. “For a moment there, I didn’t think I was going to be able to send the poor lad off.”
“But you did,” Cate said, moving next to him.
He reluctantly nodded and looked away. “Aye, the lad deserved his peace. There’s nothing for which Jones should punish him.”
“And you?”
His head jerked up, looking to the night’s sea.
He chuckled, more for her benefit than his own. “No worries, luv. I’ve made me peace. The rest is in Fate’s hands; I can only hope she’s a gentle mistress.”
They fell quiet again, elbows touching as they watched the black silk water roll past. Turmoil chewed at her gut. Cate had made a pledge in Lady Bart’s garden and it had dragged at her since. Their heated exchange the night before and Nathan’s churlishness that morning rendered it that much more pressing. The matter paled against Jensen’s passing, but the death had left her in desperate need of peace. She took a breath. Knowing exactly what she meant to say, her courage still faded. Balling a fist, she plunged ahead.
“Nathan, when this is all over,” Cate began, already regretting having started, “with Creswicke’s fiancée and all, I was wondering…if it would be at all possible…if I could…leave?”
Her query was punctuated by an expulsion of air. The worst was over; she had said it. Nathan nodded interestedly at first, but his expression clouded.
“Why?” His intent was to sound casual, but his voice caught. “Is this to do with Jensen?”
“No, it’s nothing about him at all. It’s something I’ve been thinking about… for a little while.”
Nathan bent to peer into her face. “Did someone bother you?
Only you, she wanted to say. Only you, because I can't bear to be around anymore, if it's always to be like this.
“No, no,” she said, with an emphatic shake of her head. “It's just that…that…”
It wasn’t going anywhere near the way she had hoped. And yet, it wouldn’t have come as a surprise, if Nathan hadn’t put up some kind of resistance. Deep down, she didn’t believe he would force her to remain. But then, if he saw this as an attempt for her to return to Harte, it could go quite badly.
“It’s just, I can't stay on a ship forever. I need a home; I need to start taking care of myself, again…somehow,” Cate said.
“You don't like it here?” Nathan asked dully.
“Oh, I do!” She hoped her earnestness didn’t come across as artificial. She ground her palm against the rail. “I was thinking I should start somewhere, to make a life again.”
Cate buried her face in her hands at realizing what a hash she was making of it.
“Certainly,” Nathan murmured as he straightened, adding more emphatically, “Of course.”
“I need to be not so dependent.” God, that sounded whining! “I need to be able to make my own way.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. Sewing, maybe.”
His fist curled at the hilt of his sword. “I will not have you wind up destitute, in some goddamned hellhole somewhere, doing God knows what in order to eat!”
Nathan drew back, visibly collecting himself. “No, you’re correct: a ship is no place for a woman.”
“I’ll buy you a house,” Nathan said at last, sounding more like he sought to convince himself. “I've wanted you to have something…anything you desired. You've done a lot for the crew, healing and all; we owe you that much, at least.”
“No, Nathan, it can’t be like that. That would be trading one dependency for another.”
The black dashes of his brows nearly touched. “Dependent! How can you possibly think you’re dependent?” He gestured toward the crew and the ship behind him. “You’ve mended their wounds, sewn their skin, soothed their fevers, set their bones, lanced their boils and heard their confessions. If anything, they’ve become dependent on you.”
Snorting indignantly, Nathan began to pace in short agitated circuits. “They made you a member of this crew. You do your part and contribute your fair share.”
“I know, but I’ve made a promise to myself.”
Nathan fought off a smile. “Most promises are made to be broken.”
He braced against the rail, his knuckles white against the ebony. Head hanging