Angels, Sinners and Madmen

by Cate Masters

  She hesitated. “Who else is going?”

  He held his hands at his hips. “A few of the townspeople. Doctor Meade and his wife. We’ll be having sand fish, a rare treat.”

  The mention of the doctor appeared to put her at ease. “It sounds lovely. However, the captain didn’t invite me.” Disappointment weighted her voice.

  The hope that she wanted to go lifted his spirits. “I’m inviting you. Captain Howe welcomes any and all. If it will make you feel better, I’ll ask him now.”

  Her golden-brown eyes searched his. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  “Wait here.” He jogged back to the schooner and climbed aboard. The captain was in his cabin, the door closed. Sam knocked.

  “Enter.”

  He pushed open the door. “Sorry for the interruption, Captain. I wondered whether you might allow another visitor to accompany us to Sand Key.”

  Captain Howe continued to write. “Who?”

  “Miss Olivia Collins. She’s from the Elizabeth Rose.”

  “Is she a friend of the doctor’s?” the captain asked absently.

  “No, sir. Of mine.” Sam fought to steady his breath. He’d never made such a request before, although other crewmen had.

  The captain turned with a look of surprise. “Oh. All right.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He waited for the captain to excuse him, though he wanted to burst from the cabin.

  Captain Howe assessed him. “I expect you to be on your best behavior and not neglect your duties.”

  Sam forced a serious look. “Yes, sir.”

  “Close the door on your way out.”

  Sam took the stairs three at a time, and then slowed approaching her. “Captain says he’s happy to have you along.”

  Without hesitation, she asked, “What time do you leave?”

  His reply came as quick. “Two o’clock.”

  She smiled. “I’ll see you at two, then.”

  An ache and a thrill crowded Sam’s chest. “Good.”

  She walked toward town, looking back once to wave. Holding up a hand, he knew he should move away, to not let her know he still watched. No, he wouldn’t disguise himself behind maneuvers, nor hide behind pretense. He stood his ground, hoping she would turn again.

  A hand clasped his shoulder. “Have ye turned to salt in the sun? Or perhaps the vision blinded ye?” Liam teased.

  “The vision?”

  Liam widened his eyes, fluttering his fingers in feigned awe. “Of loveliness.”

  Sam would not allow his mood to be darkened. “Ah. Not yet.” He would not admit to even his best friend his inability to focus on anyone else in her company.

  Chapter Ten

  In walking to the schooner, the heat of midafternoon caused Livvie’s dress to cling uncomfortably. The same dress she wore every day. If only she had thought to grab her bag before the Elizabeth Rose sank. She’d lost her favorite dress, along with her mother’s pearl and sapphire necklace. The last was irreplaceable. Father would not have forgiven her.

  Upon spying her, Sam strode from behind the captain’s cabin. Climbing from the deck, his gaze swept across her. “Hello.”

  “I’m not too early, I hope.” Impatience had niggled at her ever since his invitation, until she could wait no longer.

  Beneath his sailor’s cap, his smile appeared brilliant. “Not at all.”

  A carriage stopped at the end of the dock. A man stepped out, and then helped a woman to the ground. Captain Howe climbed onto the dock to greet them.

  Sam touched Livvie’s arm. “Come, I’ll introduce you.” He stepped toward the small group. “I’d like you to meet Olivia Collins. This is Captain Howe. Dr. Meade. Mrs. Meade.”

  The doctor’s wife smiled. “Please, call me Lorena.” She extended a slim hand.

  Her weak grip did not surprise Livvie.

  Livvie inclined her head. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lorena.”

  Barnaby barked from the upper deck.

  Captain Howe turned. “Have you met Barnaby?”

  “I have indeed. A fine mascot.”

  The captain gestured toward The Florida. “Shall we?”

  The Meades strolled to the schooner. The doctor helped his wife aboard.

  Sam paused at the edge of the dock. “You should put on your hat.”

  “I don’t have a hat.” She’d plaited her hair in a loose braid to discourage tangles. The hat she’d carried in her suitcase belonged to her mother, too precious to wear, nonetheless lost to the sea.

  “The sun will damage your fair skin.” Frowning, he scanned her from head to toe.

  “I will stay in shade. Now let’s go.” She climbed aboard unassisted.

  Mrs. Meade urged Livvie to sit near her. She did so while the crew readied to sail. Barnaby trotted over. She bent to scratch his cheeks.

  Fanning her face, Mrs. Meade groaned. “Ugh, he smells awful.”

  “Perhaps he’ll have a swim today, eh boy?” She patted his head.

  Gliding away from the dock, the ship was soon underway. Livvie stood by the rail, the wind in her face.

  Sam joined her. “Are you enjoying the voyage?”

  She inclined her head to the sun. “I envy you being able to sail in such a fast schooner.”

  “Yes, there’s nothing like it. Unless, of course, we lose our tail wind.”

  No chance today. The sails billowed full.

  Biting his lip, he glanced over.

  “What?” she asked.

  He leaned close. “I’ve been meaning to ask…would you lend me your stories to read?”

  Apprehension made her tense. The writings she’d carried in her satchel rested now at the bottom of the sea. Only one, barely begun, sat in the desk drawer in her room. “I haven’t yet had enough time to recreate those I lost in the shipwreck. I have some pages started, although they’re full of crossed-off lines or revisions. Hardly worth looking at yet.”

  “I’d still love to read them.” His dark eyes held no pretense.

  “All right. I’ll bring you what I have finished.”

  His sincere delight astonished her.

  “I look forward to it.” Glancing back, he murmured, “Captain’ll have my head if I don’t get back to my duties.” Giving a wink, he strolled off.

  They soon landed at Sand Key, an island so tiny, each end was visible.

  Sam helped her from the boat. “There are beautiful shells, if you care to look for them while we fish.”

  “Really?” The sun blazed brilliant against the sand, making it difficult to see. “Yes, I may.” She gave him an obliging smile.

  “Here, you’d better take my cap.” He removed it and set it atop her head.

  “Yes, it does shield my eyes from the sun a bit. Thank you.”

  He appeared to restrain whatever thoughts he had. He gave a slight nod before joining the other men. After netting several buckets of sand fish, Vernon, the cook, said he had enough for their lunch. The men dove beneath the water to cool off, the dog in their midst.

  She wandered down the shoreline, soon spying a large shell in the wet sand. She lifted it to study its pearlescent interior winding inward. So beautiful, she hated to set it down. After finding two more, she clustered them together on the beach. She couldn’t wait to show Sam, even if he’d probably mock her girlish enthusiasm. He’d likely long forgotten about natural treasures. At finding a fourth, the largest yet, she let out a cry. Turning to look for Sam, her skin flashed hot. He lumbered from the waves, his half-unbuttoned shirt clinging to the contours of his chest. Mesmerized, she clutched the shell, unable to look away. His head glistened in the sun, water dripping from his hair and face. She wanted to catch the drops on her tongue. She imagined peeling away his shirt to taste the salty skin beneath.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I see you found some.”

  “What?” Her thoughts floated away.

  One side of his mouth hitched up in a half-smile. “The seashell.”

  She must
clear her mind, not allow this perfect day to carry her away.

  “Oh. Yes, I found several. They’re fascinating.” She led him to the others.

  “Beautiful.” He ran his finger lightly across the peaked edges.

  His description surprised her. She hadn’t wanted to use the word for fear he’d think her a dreamer. A strange yearning filled her when the rest of the men emerge from the waves. “The water looks lovely.” Its clear aqua depths glistened like nothing she’d ever seen. If only she could go for a swim too.

  He nodded toward the ocean. “You could wade in a bit. Cool your feet in the waves.”

  She would have to guard her thoughts more closely. He read them too easily. Still, the invitation tempted her enough to check the whereabouts of the rest of their party. The crew were headed for the cook, busy preparing the fish. The captain’s group appeared to be engrossed in conversation around the fire.

  A sensation came over Livvie the likes of which she hadn’t felt since childhood. Total abandon. Freedom. Here, she could act however she pleased without fear of suffering societal disapproval. She took off her boots, threw them away from the foamy wet sand, and then stepped in. The water was warm, deliciously refreshing.

  Sam rested against his elbows on the beach near her shells. “Watch for jellyfish. They sting.”

  Down the beach, the others conversed jovially, paying no attention to Livvie and Sam. Even Barnaby nosed through the sand yards away. She found a branch and broke off a twig. “Fetch, Barnaby.” She tossed it into the waves.

  The dog bounded into the water, chomped onto the stick and paddled back to shore. Livvie waded farther into the ocean with each toss. Barnaby’s barking grew incessant.

  “Livvie,” Sam called. “What’s wrong with Barnaby?”

  She turned back to him. “I don’t know.”

  Sam shielded his eyes, then leapt up, his face a mask of horror.

  Barnaby hadn’t returned with the stick. She whirled to search for him.

  A large fin zigzagged in approach. A porpoise? The waves obstructed her view. She’d overheard the Elizabeth Rose crew speak of porpoises saving sailors, but Barnaby’s barks held no playfulness.

  Sam yelled from the beach. “No!” His arms and legs pumped wildly. He charged into the water, sending great splashes in all directions. “Get back!”

  She stepped toward the beach. “What’s going on? I don’t—”

  Barnaby lunged beneath the ocean.

  “No, Barnaby!” Diving beneath a wave, Sam swam past her.

  “…understand,” she finished. Dread crawled across her skin like fire ants.

  The fin veered in their direction. The grey shape headed straight for Sam. Through the clear water, its wide, flat head came into view. Too wide to be a porpoise’s.

  Sam’s head bobbed in the water. He glanced back while Barnaby paddled toward it. “No, go back! No, Barnaby.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Sam, look out!”

  The creature closed in. Leaning back in the water, Sam landed both feet hard on its snout. It veered sharply away, but came back just as quickly.

  The dog circled back, barking furiously.

  “Barnaby!” Sam reached for the dog’s tail, missing it by inches.

  The dog yelped. In a second, he disappeared beneath the water. Sudden turbulence shook the surface.

  The water washed red.

  Sam swam reckless as a madman, not stopping when he reached her.

  “Wait—” The wind left her as his arm hooked around her waist and dragged her inland.

  “Hurry, Livvie. To shore!” His cry garbled in the waves.

  He jerked her uncomfortably, and she found herself unable to assist his effort.

  “I’m trying,” she tried to say, but caught a mouthful of salt water. She coughed and sputtered.

  The depths receded. As Sam’s feet touched bottom, they lurched ahead. She tripped on her wet skirts, their weight cumbersome as she tried to find her footing. The waves helped push them ashore.

  She glanced at the fearsome monster. Its fin sliced the water as it raced along. She clutched Sam’s neck while he freed them from the waves. The shark turned sharply away, the fin disappearing beneath the surface.

  Sam did not release her until they were well away from the water.

  The crew ran toward them. “Are you all right?”

  She collapsed to the hot sand, barely able to breathe. She watched in horror. It appeared to patrol the area, changing direction in an instant. “Barnaby….”

  In unison, the men turned to the ocean in horror.

  “Barnaby’s gone?” Liam asked in a ragged voice.

  “I couldn’t….” Sam peered out at the spot where their mascot had lost his life, saving his. “I couldn’t save him.”

  Liam’s sudden cry of anguish pierced Livvie through and through. He bent over as if he’d been punched.

  Livvie wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  Sam hung his head. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “It’s all my fault.” Why had she been so foolish? She should never have gone in the water. Never thrown the stick into the waves for Barnaby to fetch.

  Captain Howe heaved a breath. “No, Miss Collins. Sharks are a constant danger. Always on the hunt. It happened upon us by chance.”

  “Or the men’s splashes might have attracted it,” Doctor Meade offered.

  Their attempts to clear her of blame did not hearten her. Poor, dear Barnaby! Would Sam ever forgive her?

  “God bless Barnaby. He gave his own life to save yours.” Liam’s eyes glittered with tears.

  Sam sat motionless, his mouth set in a grim line, his face expressionless, cold.

  Sniffing, Captain Howe hurried to compose himself. “We’re lucky no one else got hurt. It goes without saying—no more swimming today. For anyone.” He broke from the group, trudging away. The group followed in pairs, all headed for the fire. Jasper threw his arm around Liam’s quaking shoulder, steering him toward the others.

  Despair overshadowed the bright sunshine.

  Her lip trembled. “I could have gotten you killed.” Shivers passed through her. She looked away, over the white sand bordering aquamarine waters. Such treachery lurked in paradise.

  In a sober tone, he added, “Or been killed.”

  “I owe you twice for my life.”

  “You owe me nothing, Livvie. Barnaby saved us both.” His voice failed him at the last word.

  “Oh God, poor Barnaby.” She drew her knees to her chest, sobbing freely.

  He inched closer. “Shhh. There now.” He pulled her to his chest. His skin next to hers felt like hot coals.

  “Sam,” she whispered. “I’m all aflame.”

  “Oh, Livvie. Me, too.” He eased nearer, his shoulder pressing into hers.

  She pushed at his chest, sucking air through her teeth. “No—truly. My skin is burning. I’m on fire.”

  “Oh my.” He pressed a finger to her arm. A white spot appeared, fading slowly. “You have quite a burn.”

  “A burn?” Impossible. She’d never been one to succumb to any element of weather.

  “From the sun. I hoped it late enough in the day so it wouldn’t affect you, but your skin is too fair.” He winced. “I’m afraid you’ll be in pain for a few days.”

  By the light of the setting sun, her arms showed a reddish tint. Nothing too harsh. Her pain could not be compared to the tragedy of losing Barnaby. “It’s not so terrible. We should join the others.”

  Pushing herself up, she walked to her boots to shake the sand from them. She sat to put them on. To show her ankles anywhere else would have branded her a trollop, yet here, no one mentioned it. Sam certainly didn’t seem to mind.

  He dug at the sand absently. Making no pretense of hiding his gaze, he watched while she first pulled on one boot, and then the other. It was the most sensual experience she ever had. The weight of his gaze slowed her movements, imagining his hands helpin
g her slip each delicate foot into the leather, tug the shoe onto the arch of her foot. She laced the strings slowly up her foot, struggling midway up.

  He rose slowly and strolled toward her, his gaze locked on hers. Orange and pink swirls of clouds glowed in the sky behind him, a beautiful backdrop against his muscled body.

  Glancing up, the sunset playing across the sky shone in his eyes.

  A heady sensation overtook her, a wooziness that didn’t calm her unsteady breaths.

  He bent before her. She was sure if he touched her, the warmth of his hands would leave an imprint on her skin.

  His low, soft voice seemed to catch in his throat. “Allow me.” Slowly, he tied her boot laces. After he finished, he gave a sharp intake of breath. “There. That should hold.” The intensity of his gaze pierced hers.

  “Thank you.” Her breath carried away her voice. Her heart pounded against her breast so hard, he must be able to see it.

  He was right. She had no experience in matters of the heart. Her reaction to his touch proved it.

  “My pleasure.” Rising, he extended his hand.

  Sliding her palm across his, she arose with the heady feeling of being drawn into the depth of sky stretching beyond.

  Isum’s voice broke through. “Supper’s ready.” Cupping his hands to his mouth, he stood. “For those who are hungry.” He strained toward them, worry plain in his face.

  She steadied her breath. “We should join the others.”

  He held her gaze a moment. “All right.”

  His tone revealed the same reluctance she felt.

  Their slow steps brought them to the group.

  Livvie settled next to the doctor’s wife.

  The cook scooped fish from the pan onto plates. Liam held the plate to Captain Howe, who insisted the first go to Mrs. Meade. After the doctor received his plate, Liam served Livvie hers.

  “Thank you.” She accepted the dish. Whether her body would accept food after such a fright, she didn’t know. Each time she thought of Barnaby, her stomach clenched anew.

  Sam squatted near the fire. “Don’t sit too close. It’ll irritate your skin.”

  Dr. Meade pierced fish onto his fork. “He’s right. You’re already burnt. The fire will only add to it.”

  Her smile held no mirth. “No need to worry. This is not the first time I’ve endured such a burn. My father took me in his boat many a time while I was a girl.”