by Anne B. Cole
Anya shook her head in disbelief. “You heal.” She laughed and walked to the fire. Lorenzo followed, stoking the coals. She grinned, placing a pot of water on the hook.
“I help,” Lorenzo repeated.
Anya sighed and stepped to where Alec kept his tools. She picked up a small hatchet then went outside and around the back of the house. Lorenzo obediently followed past the garden to the chickens.
Anya scrutinized the birds then held up the hatchet. “For Alec.”
Lorenzo’s mouth watered. He had not eaten meat since his arrival. Most dinners consisted of fish, dried fruits, cheese, beans, and bread. Fresh vegetables were not quite in season. Tatiana wanted a nice meal for Alec. She also wanted Anya busy in their absence.
He took the hatchet with confidence and pointed to a large bird. Anya shook her head. He frowned and pointed to a smaller, younger one. She giggled, nodding approval. Lorenzo guided her to the fence post. Without hesitation, he flung the hatchet at the designated target, downing the bird instantly.
Lorenzo picked up the hatchet and killed the bird quickly. He hung it on the fence to bleed out then fetched the pot of water.
Anya stared at him in disbelief as if she had never seen a man clean a chicken before. After plucking its feathers, he began cutting into the bird. Anya pointed to the organs she wanted to keep. He tossed the innards over a low stone wall to some cats that fought over every scrap.
“In America, my family has land, crops, livestock.” Lorenzo pointed to the chickens in the distance. “In January, I will come back.”
Anya’s head perked up. “Milos?”
“Yes. I will stay in Milos as long as you want.” Lorenzo hoped she understood. He wanted nothing more in this world than to marry her.
“Ship?” Anya inquired.
“Peter is selling the pirate ship,” Lorenzo spoke slowly.
Anya shook her head sadly. “Navy ship.”
“Anya, America is not at war. We’re here to protect merchant ships, not fight. I’m coming back.” He reached out to her, but she stepped back quickly, wrinkling up her nose at his dirty hands. One of the cats growled from behind the wall.
“Stupid cats,” Lorenzo muttered. Anya giggled as she made her way to the well. He quickly followed and washed his hands, holding them up for inspection. She approved. He took the handle of the pot, yet she held tight. Together they carried it inside the house.
A cat growled fiercely behind the wall. It was hungry, and the last of the chicken entrails were dangling from the brim of Lubber’s hat. “My ship, my rum, my book.” Lubber sat against the wall. Another cat on the ledge hissed at him, batting at the chicken guts. Lubber hissed back. He shook the hat, flinging off the smelly innards. The cats pounced after them.
“I will find my ship and kill Peter. Then I will come back for Lo-ren-zo.” He searched inside his coat for his bottle. Lubber looked around, took a drink, and then staggered toward the busy market.
Chapter 14
Duty Calls
April and May passed without a sign of Peter or the Warren. The weather rapidly grew warmer. Lorenzo’s desire to remain in Milos grew along with it. As his shoulder healed, he worked many hours each day, helping Alec in the store. He spent his evenings courting Anya.
Watching the sunset together became bittersweet since each passing day brought them closer to the day he would have to leave. Rarely did they speak of his return to the navy, wanting nothing more than to savor the time they had.
With a list of jobs in his hand, Lorenzo waved goodbye to Tatiana and Alec, who left for their daily walk to the market. Lorenzo waited on customers for the next hour. When the store emptied, he gazed at his watch. Noon. Minutes earlier Katarina had left to attend mass and would be gone until around two. Time to find Anya.
The back room door was ajar, so he went in and straightened the chairs around the table. Tatiana had not taken readings lately even though there had been several requests. The small bunk he used was made up neatly in one corner. Satisfied with the condition of the room, he opened the door and found himself face to face with a uniformed man.
“Lorenzo?”
“Thomas?” Lorenzo stood in shock, looking at his best friend from the Warren.
“We thought you were dead,” Thomas exclaimed as they shook hands and then embraced.
“It would take more than ten pirates to kill me,” Lorenzo boasted. “Let me get you a drink.” He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and glasses from the counter.
“To Lorenzo’s return from the dead,” Thomas declared.
Lorenzo grinned, thinking how close he truly came to death.
Glasses clinked and then emptied. Lorenzo held up the bottle.
“No more for me,” Thomas declined. “I’m on duty and you, my friend, are too. Kearny will have you scrubbing decks for weeks.”
Lorenzo automatically squared his shoulders. Master Commandant Lawrence Kearny captained the Warren. He hated Kearny his first year on the ship then grew to respect him during his second. A sense of duty and honor tingled the back of his neck.
“How is Kearny? Mo?” Lorenzo asked as he replaced the bottle on the shelf.
“As ugly as ever. What really happened to you? Murphy said he saw two pirates drag your body away. By the time he got help both you and the pirate ship were gone, said you fought them over whiskey.” Thomas shook his head in disbelief.
“Rum.” Lorenzo’s wide grin faded. “How did you find me?”
“We were escorting a merchant ship from Malta, stopped in Andros for supplies. A Greek man approached Mo, told him you had escaped from the pirates and were healing in Milos at the house of Tatiana.” Thomas narrowed his eyes.
“Peter would be the Greek man Mo met. He is a friend. Tatiana and her family have been good to me.” Lorenzo watched Thomas look around the store then back at him.
“This Tatiana, is she what people say?” Thomas raised one eyebrow.
Lorenzo grinned with pride. “Tatiana is a wise and beautiful woman, but she is nothing compared to—” He paused as Anya stepped into the store. She spotted Thomas in uniform and froze.
“Excuse me, Thomas.” He sauntered over and took her hand. She stared into his eyes, asking silent questions, struggling to suppress her feelings. At that moment, Lorenzo knew that Peter had been correct when he questioned his decision to return to the navy instead of staying with Anya. Her beautiful brown eyes began to well. He squeezed her hand reassuringly as they moved closer to where Thomas sat with his mouth gaping.
“Thomas, this is Anya, Tatiana’s daughter.”
Thomas stood up, knocking his knees into the table. Lorenzo grabbed one glass, but the other shattered against the hard floor. Anya bent down to pick up the broken shards.
Thomas knelt beside her. “I apologize. Allow me.”
“No,” Anya replied, quickly gathering the pieces.
As Lorenzo put the bottle away, he heard Anya cry out. He watched Thomas pull a handkerchief from his pocket and take her hand.
“Anya?” Lorenzo possessively grabbed her hand from Thomas.
“There’s glass between her fingers,” Thomas warned.
Lorenzo carefully opened her hand as Thomas wiped the blood away. A jagged piece was lodged between her first two fingers. Lorenzo sat down, pulling her onto his knee.
“I fine,” Anya insisted, struggling to stand. Lorenzo held firmly.
“I’ll take it out,” Thomas offered.
“You’ve done enough,” Lorenzo snapped, then instantly regretted his tone. Anya placed her bleeding hand on the table as Lorenzo held her other. “Sorry, Thomas.”
“Hold still. This may hurt.” Thomas leaned close.
Anya stared into Lorenzo’s eyes with pain that he knew wasn’t caused by the glass. She squeezed his ha
nd as Thomas took the fragment out. She took in a sudden breath as a tear trickled down her cheek. Lorenzo guided her head to his shoulder.
Thomas reached for the bottle and poured whiskey over Anya’s hand, then began wrapping it with his handkerchief. Lorenzo’s heart ached as Anya pressed her cheek firmly against his chest.
“Finished,” Thomas announced.
Lorenzo absently kissed the top of her head. “Anya’s English is limited but she’s a quick student. We’ve been learning each other’s languages,” he began as she stood.
Anya nodded thanks to Thomas before folding her apron around the broken glass. Lorenzo watched her take a deep breath and walk to the counter.
“Anya, I want you to see my American ship,” Lorenzo began in Greek. He enjoyed showing off in front of Thomas. Anya’s wide eyes darted to the corner where his coat and few belongings were located.
Lorenzo took her hand. “Not yet.”
Thomas led the way outside into the warm June air. Lorenzo locked the store behind them. “Tatiana, she is your mother?” Thomas asked Anya as they headed to the dock.
“Yes,” Anya answered, glancing at Lorenzo tentatively.
“It would be an honor to meet her,” Thomas replied, looking sideways at Lorenzo for approval.
“Indeed,” Lorenzo replied. “You must meet Tatiana and Katarina.”
“Katarina?” Thomas stopped. “Is this a sister?”
Lorenzo grinned as he gazed at Anya proudly. “Grandmother.”
Thomas’ face and shoulders fell. “Do you have a sister?” he eagerly questioned as they moved on.
Anya grinned at Lorenzo as if she knew what Thomas asked.
Lorenzo laughed heartily, slapping his friend’s shoulder. “No sister, only Anya,” he replied.
They turned the corner, heading toward the water. His eyes widened at the sight of the Warren anchored off shore, safely tucked into the natural harbor the volcanic island of Milos created. It towered over two other ships. Several men were securing the sails on each of her three masts.
“She’s a beauty,” Thomas stated, gazing respectfully at the eighteen-gun sloop of war.
“Beyond beautiful,” Lorenzo mused, turning his gaze from the ship to Anya.
“Come. The men will want to hear about your escape from the pirates.” Thomas pointed to a small rowboat. He stepped in, followed by Lorenzo. Anya remained on shore.
“I’ll be back. I need to see my captain,” Lorenzo explained, trying to hide his excitement. Anya nodded and then studied her sandals as Thomas untied the boat. Another rowboat containing three American sailors headed in their direction.
“Mo. Is that you?” Lorenzo called. He waved to Anya, reassuring her in Greek that he would only be a few minutes, as Thomas pushed off shore.
“You’re alive,” a second man called.
“Murphy,” Lorenzo returned as the two boats came together. The third man, First Officer Edwin Binder, reached out, clasping Lorenzo’s arm.
“Taylor, I will send notice to your family on the next merchant ship to the States.” Binder’s grip was firm.
“Thank you, sir.” Lorenzo shook the officer’s hand, realizing for the first time his family had been notified of his disappearance and assumed death.
“Report to Captain Kearny immediately,” the short man commanded.
“Yes, sir.” Lorenzo released his grip as he gazed back at Anya. She stood on the shore, but not alone. Two American sailors were speaking to her, quite close. Mo and Murphy followed his gaze.
“Sir, request permission to go to shore,” Lorenzo blurted.
“Denied.” Binder waved a hand to Mo to begin rowing.
“Thomas, who is talking to Anya?” Lorenzo had to know.
“That would be Patrick and Eric. They came with me to shore an hour ago.” Thomas glanced at the sailors and his eyes crinkled in disapproval. “Looks as though they have their sights on your girl.”
Lorenzo watched Eric touch Anya’s braided hair. “Get back to Binder,” he commanded. Thomas hesitated for a second then steered the boat toward Binder’s. Lorenzo caught the side of the other boat, causing Mo to stop rowing.
“Sir, request permission to go ashore. My wife is there. She does not speak English.” Lorenzo pointed to Anya as she pushed Eric’s persistent hand away. Enraged, Lorenzo pressed harder. “Sir, I owe her my life.”
“Denied,” Binder repeated coolly. “Report to Captain Kearny at once. I will see that no harm comes to your wife.”
Anger rose in Lorenzo as he reluctantly let go of the boat. “If either of them lays a hand on her . . .” he muttered angrily to Thomas.
“Binder won’t let that happen,” Thomas shrugged, yet kept his eye on the shore.
Lorenzo swallowed hard, glancing back at Anya and the two men. Mo had rowed quickly, and within minutes, Binder was on shore, offering his arm to her. Lorenzo waved to her, and she accepted Binder’s escort. Mo and Murphy tied up the boat as Binder and Anya headed toward the market. Patrick and Eric followed a few meters behind. Mo waved to Lorenzo and then walloped Eric in the face.
Thomas laughed. “She’ll be all right, Lorenzo. Mo and Murphy will see to it. You sure she doesn’t have a sister, a cousin?”
“I have to get back to her.” Lorenzo grasped Thomas’ arm, realizing for the first time that he could be denied going back to shore.
“When did you get married?”
Lorenzo ignored Thomas’ question.
“You aren’t married, are you?” Thomas pressed, rowing faster.
Lorenzo shook his head but remained silent. They reached the ship and quickly boarded. Lorenzo was immediately surrounded by sailors bombarding him with questions about pirates, his injuries, and Tatiana.
“Taylor.” Captain Kearny’s deep voice ceased the commotion on deck. Lorenzo stood at attention with Thomas by his side.
Kearny stepped around Lorenzo then announced, “In my quarters, Taylor.”
Lorenzo obeyed the command. Ten minutes later he emerged back on deck. “Thomas, can you take me to shore?”
“I’m off duty until sundown,” Thomas replied with a grin.
“Hurry, I must get Anya away from Binder before he figures out we’re not married.” Lorenzo began lowering the boat down to the water.
“Lying to an officer, hmm, that will get you—”
“Lying to Kearny will get me more,” Lorenzo blurted as Thomas rowed quickly to shore.
Finding Binder, Mo, Murphy, and Anya in the market was not difficult. They were seated outside a taverna. Lorenzo and Thomas approached, saluting Binder, who eyed them suspiciously. Thomas took a chair while Lorenzo stood behind Anya. He felt her stiffen then relax as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I thought I told you to report to Captain Kearny,” Binder bellowed. An opened bottle of ouzo caught Lorenzo’s attention. Mo winked. Lorenzo nodded, knowing Mo had talked Binder into having a drink or two.
“Sir, Captain Kearny has given me one week to address my affairs in Milos before returning to the Warren.”
Mo’s eyes widened. “Sir, request permission to remain in Milos to assist—”
“Denied.” Binder cut Mo off so quickly that Murphy burst out in laughter.
Anya rose to her feet. The men awkwardly stood in response. “I must go. Can you come with me?” She said this to Lorenzo in Greek.
Lorenzo proudly answered in her language, “Yes, we will go now.” She beamed in return. He turned to Binder, who slumped back into a chair. “Sir, request permission to be dismissed.”
Binder failed in his attempt to focus on Lorenzo. “Get out of here.” He poured himself another drink. Lorenzo shook Mo’s hand.
“Thanks Mo, Murphy. See you in a week.” Lorenzo grabbed Anya’s hand. “Thomas?”
Thomas looked in Binder’s direction.
“Get the hell out of here,” Binder growled under his breath.
Thomas quickly followed Lorenzo and Anya, passing three young women carrying fresh vegetables. They stared as Thomas began to swagger. “Slow down, Lorenzo. Show me around this beautiful town.”
“Alec?” Anya stopped. Lorenzo watched Alec lead Tatiana out of a building known to sell herbs and medicines. She leaned on him as if she was ill.
“Holy . . . that’s Alec?” Thomas gaped.
“Yes, and he hates Americans. They don’t know about our fake marital status.”
Anya gave Lorenzo a curious look. Tatiana suddenly collapsed into Alec’s arms. Anya quickly ran to her.
“Don’t go. Please don’t go, Anya!” Tatiana cried out in English. Alec lowered Tatiana to the ground then spoke to Anya in Greek before turning to Lorenzo.
“What are you doing here?” Alec demanded.
Lorenzo ignored the question. “Is she all right?” He knelt beside Tatiana, touching her flushed cheek. She felt warm, feverish. Anya communicated rapidly in Greek with her mother.
“She needs rest. This is not your concern,” Alec declared, glaring at Thomas.
“She—”
“Enough,” Alec interrupted. “Tend the store. Take Anya.”
Alec had tried to calm his voice, but Lorenzo could tell he was shaken. Tatiana became coherent and encouraged them to go.
Confused, Lorenzo placed his hands on Anya’s shoulders and guided her to her feet.
“I’m fine, Lorenzo,” Tatiana insisted.
“May I speak with you after you have rested?”
“Yes, I need to speak with you as well,” Tatiana replied tenderly.
“Go,” Alec barked.
Thomas and Lorenzo backed away, but Anya lingered. “Alec will take care of her.” Lorenzo took Anya’s hand and followed Thomas, who was already several yards ahead. He glanced over his shoulder at Tatiana, who was sitting up on her own. Lorenzo guided Anya forward as they hurried back.