by Raven, Sandy
A cry from above cut her off, and her gaze snapped up to the main yard where her men stood. One, three, five... eleven men. All there, thank God! She exhaled in relief, then suddenly found herself against the rail with Lucky's massive body shielding her. He braced as something slammed into his back forcing them both into the rail and knocking the breath out of them. It took her a moment to realize Lucky held her tight, unmoving. He finally sucked in a shallow breath and tried to stand straight. Mary-Michael turned in his arms and he pressed his lips to her cheek. Relief flooded through her. Even though he was in obvious pain from the tightly closed eyes and the grimace on his face, he was alive.
Mary-Michael looked at the block on the deck and knew. Lucky put himself between her and the wood and iron pulley block, and taking the injury to himself.
"Oh, my God! Lucky? Are you okay?" He groaned as she stepped out of his embrace and went around him. "Let me have a look." Mary-Michael tugged the shirt tail out of his trouser waist and as he held onto the rail, she inspected the skin that was starting to turn dark red in the horse-shoe shape of the flat-end of the block. "Thankfully, there's no blood. But you will have a nasty bruise, perhaps even a broken rib or two."
Ian arrived, his face filled with concern. "Jesus, Lucky. That was a close call. A few inches higher and it could have been your head." He turned to Mary- Michael and whispered, "You do know every man here saw you do that."
That's when she realized she'd had Lucky's naked back under her hands within full view of everyone from two ships plus her own riggers and sail makers. She turned to everyone still staring at them, and shouted, "He's fine, now get back to work. All of you need to be more careful. It wouldn't do to go killing our esteemed client, now would it?" He'd protected her. He'd moved over her so quickly she had no idea what was coming toward them... and he'd very possibly saved her life. The spot on his back where the block hit him was right at the same height as her head.
It could have killed her, and all she could think about was she and Lucky would then never have a chance to have children.
Behind her a few of the men began to murmur in soft undertones—she knew not what about—and Ian drew closer to check for himself that Lucky was okay.
"I'm fine, see?" Lucky stretched out his left arm, raised it over his head and out in front of him, where he winced.
"Take a deep breath, as deep as you can," Ian said.
Mary winced when he appeared to have difficulty expanding his chest completely without pain.
Ian nodded his head. "I agree with the cracked or broken ribs. Bad luck for you, but you saved Mary-Michael's life."
"Didn't you see that?" Lucky asked her.
"No, when I heard the cry, I immediately counted the men on the yard to make sure no one had fallen." Her voice trembled as she spoke. "This wind is causing the hanging of the sails to be a little more tricky than usual. Perhaps we—"
Dear God, he'd kissed her. In full view of every man on this ship, he'd kissed her. Then she'd bared his back and touched him intimately. And for the first time since it happened minutes earlier, Mary-Michael realized the magnitude of the impropriety of their actions. "Perhaps... Perhaps..." Her breath caught. "Perhaps we should try again later in the day. This wind... Usually these spring winds die down in the afternoon."
Ian agreed, and with Mary's permission called for everyone to break for several hours for luncheon and to see if the wind would abate, telling them all to return at three. Mary excused herself and practically ran the half mile distance to her office, leaving Lucky and Ian behind on the Lady S.
It was pure instinct that took over and made her do what she'd done. She could never admit to more than that. No matter that her heart had stopped beating until she saw for herself that he was fine. No matter that for the time it took to realize her lover was not injured she thought about how empty her life would be without him in it. At that very moment her very own husband lay on the brink of death, and her first thought went to her lover. How could she? How could she?
Thinking on it, his kiss had been a brief pressing of his lips to her cheek—not on her mouth. She prayed it didn't look like a kiss to the men who'd been close enough to witness it. Then she had to go and bare her lover's back to check him over for injuries. Mary-Michael couldn't say for certain that she would have done the same thing had it been another client, or even an employee. More likely than not she would have had one of her crew bosses do a physical assessment of the injured man.
This was going to cost her the respect of her employees. She'd also disrespected her husband's client in a very public manner. How was she ever going to recover from this shameful act?
Reaching her office, she closed the door and locked it. She collapsed in Mr. Watkins' big brown wing chair in the corner. Curling her feet under her, she began to cry, something she couldn't have done outside of this room. If that block had hit Lucky's head, she could have lost a man she was beginning to care for. She cried because she had instinctively gone to check his injury, not thinking how it would look to the crewmen, to Ian, and to Lucky himself. And she cried because she'd had too little sleep lately and she was tired. A knock at the door interrupted her tears and self-pity.
"Who is it?" she called out, perhaps a tad more sharp and cutting than necessary. Her eyes stung and her breathing hitched.
"Mary, it's me." The sound of his voice made her sob. She was so thankful he was uninjured. She wished she could hold him again, but she really shouldn't anymore. This entire scheme to have him sire her child was blowing up in her face.
She didn't want to see him yet. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Lucky, I am truly grateful that you are not seriously injured." She had to pause to sniffle. "But go away. You're the reason I have just embarrassed myself in front of my employees. Because of you and how you unsettle me, I am proving to everyone who was critical of my abilities that I am not prepared to take over the business."
He gave an irritated huff. When mixed with his soft growl, it told her he was frustrated with her as well. "Open the door, Mary, before I break it down."
"Go away, Lucky! I'm sorry I started this whole affair."
"Where are Andrew and Robert?"
"I don't know... lunch. Who cares? Go away."
"I'm giving you to the count of five. If you do not open this door, I will break it down."
"Lucky, I'm serious. Go away. I don't wish—"
"One."
"Can't a girl cry in peace?" She didn't want him to see her like this, with puffy eyes and blotchy face. She never did cry prettily. Sister Agnes said it was the curse of being a redhead.
"Two."
"If you break it, I will tell Mr. Watkins to add the cost of repairing this door to your account."
"Three."
"I'm serious, Captain. Go away."
"Four."
"Lucky, I said go... "
With a crash that echoed through the entire upper floor, the door-jamb splintered apart causing Mary-Michael to cringe. She looked at the door and the broken lock mechanism and knob, which gave in to his brutish action. Thankfully, the frosted glass with Mr. Watkins' name painted on it remained unbroken.
Lucky hunched down before her, hands on the chair's arms, his face mere inches from hers. He was so close she felt his warm, moist breath tickling the baby hairs at her temple. She refused to meet his gaze. Afraid he'd see what she was starting to feel for him in her eyes. And she could never let him think she cared about him as anything more than a temporary lover.
"I told you I would break it down." His whispered voice was filled with concern, and when he pressed his cheek to her temple she felt his lips kiss the side of her head. "You could have been hurt out there."
"You were," she whispered before dropping her head onto his shoulder and sobbing. "You were hurt." She hugged him tight around his neck, careful to avoid where he'd been hit on the back. Mary-Michael needed the feel of his strong arms around her to reassure her that he was, in fact, alive and in one piece. "I'm s
o sorry that you were hurt," she whispered. Lucky knelt before her and let her cry for a few minutes. When finally she lifted her head from his shoulder, she apologized yet again.
"Accidents happen," he said. "I'm just glad I was able to shield you." Lucky stood and offered a hand to Mary-Michael, and asked her to stand. He backed her into the wall and kissed her. His firm lips moved possessively over hers as his hands grasped her bottom and pulled her closer to him. So close that she could feel his erection growing against her lower abdomen.
She opened her mouth for him, begging him to share with her once again that passion that was theirs alone. She committed this memory, along with all the other kisses she'd shared with him. There would come a time when she would want to remember their brief affair. And she'd need each one of these memories to help her remember him, and the fact that she still lived, long after he was gone from her life.
A groan from Lucky stopped her, and she panicked. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you? The pain and bruising will be getting worse now. We should go to the house and have Sally put ice on the bruise for you. It might help."
His closed eyes and tense expression told her he was in a great deal of pain, but still he resisted. "I'll be fine, Mary. Let's just be thankful that it isn't worse." He pressed his lips to her temple. "Or that it wasn't you," he whispered.
"You kissed me out there—"
"No one saw." His confidence frightened her. "Every man was behind me."
She was still a little doubtful as she slid out from his embrace and stepped around him. "Maybe so." She had to put some distance between them, more to recover her senses than anything, before Robert or Andrew returned to the office and caught them. "Did any of my men see you follow me in here?" Not that she doubted Mr. Watkins' or Mr. Baxter's ability to effectively squelch any whispered accusations to her fidelity, but Lucky just didn't understand the severity of the act she was committing—and not just morally. She could be tried in a court of law for committing adultery, and quite possibly hung if she was found guilty.
"People saw me walking in this direction," he said as he sat on the corner of her desk, his long legs stretched before him. He kept moving his elbow, back and forth, then up and down. Knowing the pain he must be in, she thought perhaps rubbing a salve into his back might help. "But after what happened, I don't think they're imagining us in the throes of lovemaking."
"You cannot understand, and I shouldn't expect you to. The fact is, I have to live and work here after you leave." Leaning against the broken door jamb, she stared down the hallway so she might have at least a moment to collect herself should her coworkers return. She pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from crying again. "And you will leave. Everyone does." She caught herself before she confessed her biggest fear to him. Mary-Michael couldn't let him know the fear she kept deep inside, and the deepest reason she wanted a child of her own.
First she'd lost her parents to illness, then her brother to the church. Rowan and Emily, whom she adored and was on the verge of adopting were claimed by their uncle and aunt. And now she would lose Mr. Watkins to a failing heart. Of course she would lose him, too. Especially if she let herself care for him. As long as she could keep her heart from caring too much, she would be fine when he left. She would.
She had no idea she was crying again until Lucky came to her and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs while he cradled her face.
"I may leave, but I will always come back if you want me to." He stared down into her eyes and she couldn't meet his intent gaze for the guilt at what she was doing.
"You can't. Once you have taken ownership of your boats, and the refurbishing on the older vessels is done, you cannot continue to come here. I have responsibilities." She turned away from him again, and a twisting pain in her breast made her want to double over in pain, but she couldn't let him see her agony. Taking a fortifying breath, she continued to explain. "You see, I have a home, a family, a community to which I belong. I cannot be anything less than what I am. I love what I do."
"What about your husband?" His voice held an accusatory tone. As though he knew she was lying to him. As though he could see through her false bravado. "What about him?"
Mary-Michael slipped behind a drafting table, putting the wide surface between them. She fought the rising knot in her throat. If she couldn't convince Lucky that she didn't need him beyond the duration of their affair, she would be found out. The last thing she needed was for him to return each year looking for her to warm his bed for the duration of his visits. "Do not make the assumption that in neglecting to mention Mr. Watkins, I do not love him. You have no idea the depth of my affection for that man."
He picked up a pencil that lay on the surface, and wove it between the fingers of one hand. "You didn't say depth of your love." His words stung.
"I love him, Lucky. Never, ever doubt that."
Silence filled the room until the sound of breaking wood echoed through the vast antechamber where the drafting tables stood. Lucky tossed the broken pencil across the surface of the table-top, then turned and walked away. She watched his back as he strode down the corridor until he disappeared down the stairway. The sound of the slamming door below stabbed at her conscience as though she'd plunged a knife through her own heart. Her face fell into her hands and she began to weep silently. She needed to ask for forgiveness from Mr. Watkins. She'd never intended to care for the captain. It happened somehow and her pain was her own fault. If she hadn't been so selfish as to want a child of her own, she'd never have come to this pathetic state.
With her husband in the condition he was in, Mary-Michael had her employees to consider. Their livelihoods all depended on her continued management of this facility after Mr. Watkins passed on from this earth. They were all good men who might no longer trust her leadership if they thought her less than infallible. And their respect for her would surely be nil after news of this morning's incident filtered through the entire yard.
A sound of booted heels clicking on the wood flooring in the hallway caused her to jerk upright. She knew that stride. He'd returned! Lucky re-entered the building and headed her way. Her head throbbed from crying and still she managed a smile that he'd come back.
"You should leave, Captain. There are many reasons for us not to do this anymore."
He stopped in front of her and took her hand and raised it to his lips. Then he kissed a feathery trail from her temples to her mouth. He stopped and lifted his head. "I know you love him, Mary, I do." His hands burned her flesh through the fabric of her breeches when he grabbed her bottom and pulled her closer. His erection pressed into her lower belly and she wished he were inside her. Even injured, the man was making her wet with desire. And there was no chance of satisfying their hunger until much later. "But you don't love him like this."
Mary-Michael and Lucky returned to the Lady S at three on the dot, to find Ian and her rigging crew already at work hanging the rest of the sails. As predicted, the wind had died down sufficiently enough to work without hazard of whipping ropes and sails out of the hands of the men who held them. Finished with one boat, but not the other, they decided they would return the following day after church and complete the task then, because everyone, Mary-Michael included, wanted to take the new Ladies out into the Chesapeake for a real trial run. Both boats had been floated for seven weeks and thus far no leaks or any other issues with the hulls had been discovered. Not that Mary-Michael expected any, as she'd been inside those hulls daily inspecting them closely. She'd declared both ships ready to take on the waves and winds that would rule the rest of their lives.
On her way home late that afternoon, Mary-Michael spotted Becky and Cadence in front of Becky's pub. With Cady holding her eldest, a squirming little girl, both women waved back. Gretchen, the eldest of Cady's three girls, was five and a near-twin of her mother with her blond ringlets and blue eyes. The child's face lit with joy when she recognized Mary-Michael coming down the street. Gretchen wriggled her way out of her mother's arms, and when Mary-
Michael got close enough, Cady let her daughter's hand go and the girl ran into Mary-Michael's legs, hugging her tight.
"Aunt Mary!" the little one squealed with delight. "Were you on a sip again?"
Mary-Michael lifted the child and continued toward her friends. "Yes, I was on a ship, Sweet Pea." She passed a glance over Gretchen's head to her mother, then asked the child, "Where are your sisters and brothers?"
"At home with Cimmon," the girl replied, meaning their family's servant, Cinnamon.
"And how did you get lucky enough to come into town with your mama? Did you pick up your toys?"
"No. I ate my veg-e-tables at lunch." The child was bursting with self-pride, and her ear-to-ear grin was infectious enough to make all three ladies smile.
The girl squirmed in her arms and wanted down, so Mary-Michael set her on the wooden sidewalk in front of Becky's tavern. Becky's two sons were likely at the hotel with their father and uncle, doing 'man things' as the boys had recently learned to say.
"Gretchen, go back up the steps and find Davy," Becky said, meaning for her to go to the residence above the tavern.
"Play with him while we grown-ups talk for a few minutes," Cady said, and patted her daughter on the bottom. The three of them watched the child take hold of the hand-rail and climb the steps and disappear through the door.
The women hugged a greeting, and Becky asked how the rigging was coming along.
"The Lady S is done. We're going to finish the Lady M after church tomorrow, and sail one of them Monday and one Tuesday. I believe the two captains are preparing to return to England as soon as they find cargo."
Becky and Cady exchanged serious glances, causing Mary-Michael's stomach to clench as dread washed over her. Nothing could make her have this feeling but one thing. Potts had been asking around about her. She heard he was coming back. He must be here and already starting trouble for her. Now that she had Lucky here, she couldn't have the village's former constable snooping around into her activities. "If it's about Nelson Potts, I know he's moving back. His mother told Mr. Watkins yesterday. But I didn't think—"