by Ava Bradley
Christian emerged two rungs on the ladder and reached out. "Come here you dimwitted mongrel," he shouted as gently as he could. "This is no place for you. That's right, come here, boy."
For once the dog seemed glad to see him. His head lifted and his tail wagged as he scampered toward him.
A wave hit the port side and sent the ship pitching severely to his right. Christian grabbed the edge of the hatch to steady himself. Before he could reach for the dog, a bucket flew off the cabin roof and tumbled across the deck.
Damn! He had forgotten to secure it. Chauncy yelped as the bucket hit him and knocked him onto his haunches.
Christian stepped out of the hatch and onto the deck as far as he dared without a safety line. He knelt and reached out. "Come here, you little nuisance. I'm wet and cold and I want to go below."
Through the raging wind he heard snippets of Adriana's screaming voice, but Christian was afraid if he took his eyes off the dog it would be gone when he looked again. "Come here now!" he shouted. "Enough of this. Chauncy, come!"
The ship rolled violently, toppling his balance. A frigid wave stunned him from behind, sending him sprawling onto his hands and knees. Icy seawater stung his eyes and carried him several feet, as slippery as if it had turned to ice when it hit the deck. He shook the water out of his hair and cleared his vision. Chauncy slid away in a graceful circle, four little legs splayed like a wooden rocking horse before he vanished over the side.
Christian jumped to his feet. He ran to the edge and leapt, one foot onto the rail and up, over the side.
Time seemed to slow down as he sailed through the air. He remembered his summers in Cabion, and the ease in which he'd leapt from the thick arm of the oak tree hanging over the lake, before his accident. It seemed only yesterday, and strangely less terrible than the memories leading up to this day, as if it were someone else who'd nearly drowned instead of him.
Adriana's scream drifted over him as if from a great distance away. Then shocking cold catapulted him to the here and now as he plunged into the icy black sea.
Chapter Fifteen
"Christian, no!" Adriana screamed and ran as far to the railing as the safety line would allow. She frantically loosened it and pulled it over her head. Before she could run, Henri grabbed her arm.
"Adriana, be careful!" He thrust a coil of hemp line at her with shaking hands. The furious wind whipped his silvered hair around his head, making him look like a ghost. She'd never seen such fear in another person's eyes. There was death in them. "You know how to do it. Don't let me down, girl."
She didn't need to rehash what he'd told her their first day out in this macabre voyage–she knew Christian was like a son to him. Don't let him drown, was what he'd really meant.
Her leather soles slipped twice as she scrambled to the rail. She looped the hemp line around a bollard and coiled the end in her hand.
She screamed as loud as she could for Christian, but could barely hear her own voice over the raging storm. The wind tossed salty spray into her eyes. She desperately rubbed it away, straining to see into the black abyss.
Christian's dark hair was hard to make out in the churning sea. He surged in and out of view behind gigantic rolling waves. Chauncy appeared as a tiny white dot in the furiously roiling water, then was gone behind a mountain-high surge.
She watched as a wave picked up Christian and threw him over, and suddenly he and the dog were together. Christian's arm whipped out and snatched Chauncy, then a wave rose between them and Lady Luck, taking them from her view.
By some strange miracle the waves pushed them and the ship toward each other, but the sea was violent. If he was thrown against the hull, Christian could be hurt or even killed.
Strong hands grabbed her. Ollie had fashioned a longer safety line and was tying it around her waist. When she glanced back at the water, Christian was gone.
She screamed again and again until her throat was raw. No, please Lord, don't let him die this way! She could not let the sea take him. He was so close to his goal, they were less than five hundred miles from French Guiana. Why was his life plagued with such unfairness?
"There he is!" Ollie pointed. Christian's pale face and the white scruff under his arm surged into view. With all her might Adriana threw the rope. It uncoiled in the air and smacked the water beside him. He didn't see it!
The ship was surging away. If they didn't get him fast, Christian would be lost.
"Throw the kedge over!" she shouted to Mr. Ling. It would drag in the water, slowing the ship's progress. The Chinese man nodded and worked his safety line up the deck to the bin where the large funnel shaped anchor was kept.
Adriana's forearms burned as she pulled in the rope and coiled it again. Soaking wet, it now weighed three times as much.
"Christian, grab the rope!" she screamed hoarsely. She threw it again. This time he heard, but it landed too far away. Adriana quickly untied the end and moved to the last bollard at the stern. This was her last chance. If he didn't catch the rope this time, there was no way of saving him.
Her heart pitched. Somewhere in a dark, quiet part of herself Adriana knew her desperation was selfish. She loved him. She could not bear to lose him this way. She could not bear to lose him at all.
Adriana looped the end to the last bollard and jerked it tight. Her arms burned as she dragged the rope back. She screamed his name again, watching as a wave splashed over Christian's face. She threw the rope. It splashed down, too far away. His grasping fingers fell within inches. At the last instant, Christian kicked and surged forward. He caught the rope with his free hand and Adriana felt it grow taught under his weight. The wet rope slid through her hands until it was the bollard cleat holding him, not her.
"He's got it! Help me!"
Mr. Ling took the wheel and Henri and Ollie helped her drag him to the ship. But once they started pulling him up, the rope only slipped through Christian's hands. He started drifting away. Snippets of Chauncy's pitiful whining penetrated the din.
"How will we get him up? He can't hold on!" Adriana screamed over the gale.
"Wrap it around yourself twice," Henri yelled down to Christian. "Adriana, get another rope. Put a loop in the end for his foot."
She opened the bin. Inside lay their last spare rope. If this didn't work... It would. It had to!
She quickly tied a loop in the end. Instead of dropping it overboard, she went to the winch for the mizzen skysail and let it free. The skysail fell into the wind and its rope snapped wildly like an enormous bullwhip. She wound the last rope around the winch until it was secure.
"Henri!" She tossed the end when he looked up, praying the winch didn't take too much of the length and the rope was long enough to reach Christian in the water.
It grew taut under her hand. Henri turned and signaled her. Thank you, dear Lord, thank you!
Ollie ran to her side and helped Adriana turn the winch.
After what seemed an eternity, Christian finally appeared at the railing. He dumped a shivering Chauncy on the stern bench and Henri grabbed hold of his clothing to haul him over.
Adriana ran over. She threw her arms around Christian as he collapsed on deck, taking her down with him. She had never felt anything so wonderful as the cold, wet mass of his exhausted body.
Henri and Mr. Ling helped roll him over. Adriana grabbed him by the lapels of her father's ruined velvet waistcoat.
"Are you mad?" she screamed. She slapped him hard across the face. He focused on her with utter shock. "What possesses a man to dive into a raging tempest? You are daft, I am sure of it now!"
A hideous tearing split the air, followed by the demon-like growl of splintering wood. The mizzen skysail yard crashed down on the deck only three feet away. Adriana raised her arm, protecting her eyes from spraying splinters.
As one sodden mass, they scrambled out of harm's way. The loose rope whipped past with a sharp snap and was taken out to sea as the remaining shreds of sail tore loose and disappeared into the black
sky.
Adriana leapt to her feet. The other half of the broken yardarm dangled, smashing against the mizzenmast.
"Henri!"
He grabbed her hard by the arm. "There is nothing we can do except thank the Lord we don't need it."
"It will destroy the mast!"
He shoved her around the port side, out of danger. "Get the lower studdingsail up. The current is pushing us back into the island. We've got to get to deeper water. Mr. Ling, bring in the kedge."
She struggled up deck, dimly hearing shouting voices behind her. It was Ollie who appeared at her side to help her raise the sail. When she finally looked back, Henri stood alone at the wheel.
She didn't know whether to feel passionate relief, or intense rage. Christian had endangered them all. He was reckless, daring, jeopardizing those around him without a second thought.
She shivered, soaked through to her skin. The wind howled around them, pulling at what remained of her braid. Loose wisps of hair slashed at her eyes. The sea suddenly seemed a lonely and forbidding place, and this storm a bully's taunt.
She knew Christian spent his life in bad company, risking his neck for the very thrill of it. That was how he lived. He was a thief. She shuddered as she realized the magnitude of their differences. When all this was finished, the more distance she put between them, the better.
Adriana gulped down hot disappointment. What had she been thinking, taking a fancy to him? He was a different creature altogether. He would never fit into her world, and she would never fit into his.
She and Ollie worked their way back to the quarterdeck. "Go below, you two," Henri told them. "I can handle this."
Adriana shook her head, too hoarse to respond.
"No, it's my shift," Ollie argued, even though it wasn't.
"We're moving away from the island." Henri pointed. Land's green palms were illuminated brightly against the gray sky as dawn's first lights slipped through the gap between sea and smoky clouds. The far off horizon glowed with a golden beam of promise.
"You shouldn't be alone," Adriana yelled. Her throat burned.
Henri smiled at her, and in it she could see his gratitude. His eyes shone with tears he would rather she didn't see. "Get some rest. I'll ring the bell if I need you."
"Go down first. Change into dry clothes and get your oilskins. Mr. Ling will stay with me while you do."
Henri nodded and made his way below deck.
"Don't be mad at Christian." Ollie's low voice barely cut through the vicious wind, but Adriana saw it on his lips. His chin trembled. She wasn't sure if it was the storm that frightened him most, or what she would do to Christian.
"I'm not," she lied.
"Yes, you are."
It was useless to coddle the young man. He was smarter than anyone gave him credit.
"It was a dumb thing he did, but you're glad he saved, Chauncy, aren't you?"
"Of course," she responded over the wind.
Henri returned in a matter of minutes, changed and looking ready to tackle Neptune himself.
He looped the safety rope over his head and tugged at it, testing its integrity.
"If I did not know better, I would say you enjoy this." Her entire body trembled in the aftermath of their near tragedy. Making light helped slow the terror racing through her veins.
"Ah, the sea and I are old friends. She never stays angry with me long."
She nodded and turned to go. Henri caught her arm. She leaned close to hear him over the wind.
"That was a courageous thing you did, and mighty smart, using the winch to pull him up."
"I lost the mizzen skysail."
"You saved a man's life." Henri nodded. "That's what is important. Your father would be proud."
What he really meant was that he was proud. Adriana smiled as inner warmth chased away the angry sea's chill. "Thank you, Henri."
Adriana climbed down the hatch ladder. Mrs. Bailey rushed to her, bouncing off the walls as the ship swayed and pitched.
"Adriana! Dear child, I feared the worst when Henri came down without you. That beast. Leaving you up there by yourself in a gale like this. I'm going to see your father hears about each and every atrocious incident since leaving Norfolk."
"I was not by myself, Mrs. Bailey. Ollie and Mr. Ling were with me."
She gathered Adriana into her arms. "Oh you poor dear. You are soaking wet. You will catch your death in these clothes. Come now, I shall run a hot bath for you and get you clean and dry."
Adriana pulled the loose strands of her wet hair into a mass at the back of her neck. "We cannot fill the tub in these seas, and we must ration our water. We do not know how long we will be trapped in this storm." She turned toward her cabin. "Where is Chauncy?"
Christian emerged from his cabin, a towel over his shoulders and Chauncy wrapped in a blanket in his arms. Adriana guarded herself as she approached and took her dog.
"That was a foolish thing you did. It could have meant the end for all of us."
His eyes held no kindness. "I am quite sure you would have sacrificed me, had the risk become too great."
She issued a humorless chirp of laughter. "As if Mr. Dupree would have let me. The fool man has some unexplainable attachment to you that I cannot, for the life of me, understand."
A lie. She understood perfectly well. Christian possessed a unique charisma that caused her tingles with a simple smile, that deep, throaty laugh. Even that mischievous, sideways glance he sometimes tossed in her direction.
Leave now, before this gets worse than it already is, she told herself.
"But you would have let your little dog drown?"
Even as fast as she turned to leave, her anger flash boiled. She turned back. "Yes. Because I know the lives of my crew are more important than a dog's."
"You ungrateful little witch."
She laughed in amazement. "Mr. De la Croix, I suspect you feel you have committed some great heroism for which I should fall at your feet, sniveling with gratitude." She forced herself to ignore the insult filling his features. "What you did was foolish and irresponsible."
"Sometimes impulsive is what saves the day," he growled.
"I forgive you that you do not share the same experience, or for that matter, common sense. However, in the future I will thank you to think before you act and not risk my ship or my crew in such a reckless and careless manner."
She turned to enter her cabin.
"Miss Montague, the life of that dog may not mean very much to you, but it does to me. I could not have slept nights knowing I turned my back on a helpless creature."
She stopped in her doorway. "Because you know it was your fault? Yes, Mr. De la Croix, I saw the bucket. It was fastened down when I left you to your shift."
Christian started towards her, lifting his hands as though to throttle her. Mrs. Bailey quickly placed her large body between them. "Enough, Mr. De la Croix. It has been an upsetting morning for us all, and it has hardly begun." She stepped into the cabin behind Adriana and turned to close the door. "Do be a gentleman and lend your assistance to Mr. Dupree, should he require it."
She slammed the door. "Of all the nerve! I do declare, that man hasn't a single decent bone in his body."
Adriana undressed in silence and handed her wet clothes to Mrs. Bailey.
"Goodness me, I am ill all over again. When I disembark, I shall never set foot on a ship again."
Adriana retrieved a dry skirt and shirtwaist from her wardrobe.
"Adriana, you should go back to bed. You've been through a horrible ordeal. You need your rest. There is no reason for you to head back up there. It isn't safe."
"I'm not tired, Mrs. Bailey." She buttoned the shirt and tucked it into the waist of her skirt, but left her feet bare. "Would you be so kind as to get me a cup of water?"
"I'll have Mrs. Ling make you some tea."
"She cannot light the stove in these seas. Not until it is absolutely necessary." Adriana sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned Chau
ncy. "Really, water is fine."
Mrs. Bailey pinched her lips and grumbled, but thankfully didn't protest. Adriana didn't think she could take much more. The door swung open when Mrs. Bailey left, but Adriana didn't have the energy to get up and close it properly.
Chauncy whined pitifully as he crept across the rolling cabin floor and hopped onto the bed. "I know just how you feel," she said as she gathered him in her arms. "Whatever possessed you to do such a silly thing as go on deck in a storm, my darling? You know better than that."
Christian did not. He'd leapt into the sea foolishly to rescue her little love, without thinking of the risk to the rest of them. And to save him, Adriana had to sacrifice the mizzen skysail and quite possibly the entire mizzen mast.
She hugged her little dog close. She did love this little mutt, and a part of her never would have been the same if he'd drowned. Had it been foolish daring? Or the most heroic and selfless act she'd ever seen?
Suddenly she remembered Christian's fear of the water. It had been a stupid thing to do, but a great act of bravery.
Inside she waged a war with herself. She wanted to admire him for courageously rescuing Chauncy, but she couldn't get over the fact that he'd risked the ship and all their lives. It was just this type of thing that made them so different, and so impossibly unsuitable for each other. He would never fit into her world, nor she into his. Adriana couldn't imagine living life so recklessly.
Christian moved carefully through the hall, drying his hair with a towel. When he glanced through the door and his eyes met hers, he hesitated. His cheeks glowed as if the encounter with the storm had invigorated him. He'd removed her father's velvet waistcoat but still wore the wet shirtwaist. It clung to his chest, outlining every superb ridge and bulge.
Adriana quickly looked down at her shivering dog. Chauncy licked her chin. When she glanced up, Christian was gone.
* * *
"Sweet Jesus! Mary, Mother of God."
From his bottom bunk across the tiny cabin, Edmund indulged in a private smile. John Locke thought he was dying. Good. The man deserved as much. Perhaps he would. Edmund searched his memory. Had a man ever died of sea sickness? Perhaps he might die of starvation, unable to keep food down. Or thirst, from vomiting up everything he consumed until he dried up like a beached jellyfish in the sun. Or maybe–and he hoped this the most–of diarrhea, being so nauseated his insides turned to goo.