Pirated Love

by K'Anne Meinel

  Tina headed below and by-passed the kitchen and the remainder of her meal. Grabbing some bread, she continued on to her cabin. It was dark and she hesitated to light a lantern. She stripped and dried her wet body as she ate the bread, pulling large chunks from it as she chewed savagely, having no audience. She had no one to impress with her manners as she dressed in dry clothes, hanging the wet ones up around the cabin. She would be ready to go should it be necessary. Once dressed in dry clothes, she fell into her bed, tying herself in as she had Claire so long ago and so often in the past. She missed her wife at this moment, snuggling into her warmth was always a welcome relief. It was not long, with a full stomach and her fatigue, before she fell into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  When Tina awoke, it was to a calm that did not seem natural. It must be that quiet that woke her. She heard the shouts of her men on deck, but she was puzzled at the stillness of her ship. She shook off the sleep, rubbing it out of her eyes as she untied her body from the bed. She got up and pulled the tub from the closet, turning on the tap to pour water into a pitcher, quickly filling it and pouring it into her washing bowl to bathe her face and privates. She quickly used the slop jar from under the bed, added water, and poured it out the window. Looking out at the calm, she could see in the distance the wall of clouds that they had ridden through. She poured water in the jar and rinsed it out a second time before returning it under her bed. Washing her face and hands a second time in the wash basin, she further woke herself up. She was still fatigued, but she knew there would be work waiting. She quickly closed her window and returned the tub back to its closet, locking everything against the coming storm. She realized they must be in the center of it, what was called the eye of the hurricane. This was a calm that could be miles, even days wide, before you hit the other side of the enormous storm. She hurried upstairs, noting that Geoff was using this lull to quickly cook something for the tired crew. She grabbed some bread on her way by, as well as a peach, and headed up to the deck to relieve James. She did not find him behind the wheel; instead one of the other crew members was manning it.

  “Where is James?” she asked as she walked up onto the poop deck.

  “Captain,” the man gasped, seeing her and looking guilty.

  She looked around, seeing the men affecting repairs where they could, her third mate directing them. She was relieved that the mizzenmast seemed okay. After losing the one, she had worried about losing more. She turned back to the man behind the wheel as she bit into her peach. With food in her mouth and going down her gullet, she asked once again, “Where is James?”

  “He was washed overboard last night,” the man gulped, seeing the immediate fury in her eyes.

  “And no one thought it important to wake me?” she asked, aghast at the loss of her first officer and friend.

  “I told ‘em not to wake ye,” a voice said behind her, and she whirled in surprise to see Frank standing there.

  “Why would you do that?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Ye needed yer sleep,” he responded grumpily, knowing she would be angry and bury the hurt deep.

  She swallowed, nearly choking on the full mouth of food. She fought it down into her belly, as it wanted to immediately come back up. Tina took a deep breath, knowing she needed to grieve later. She looked around, swallowing her ire and the loss of what had been a good friend. She would mourn at another time. She looked around, blinking rapidly and hardening her heart. She nodded when she turned back to her men, some of whom had stopped work to watch her reaction. “Get to work, this ain’t over,” she called, nodding to the wall that was rapidly approaching. She turned back to Frank, “This is the eye, ain’t it?” At his nod of agreement at the obvious, she took another bite of the peach that was dripping down her hand to quickly finish it. She looked at the crew member manning the wheel and asked, “Can you handle that?” At his nod, she turned away to inspect the repairs on her ship, to encourage and help her men at their work, and to show she was not affected by the loss of one of the crew. She would find out later they had lost another man too.

  “Has someone checked the bilge?” she asked, knowing it was the weakest part of the ship and the most likely to take on water. The men sighed in relief as she took command again and began barking orders, orders that would ensure their safety.

  “Sail ho,” the call came down, and she glanced up to see one of the crew in the crow’s-nest before following where he was pointing to have a look. They were too far down on the horizon to see it, as the nest was much higher off the deck, but they would watch for it. They could not afford to be taken by a pirate at this point. Glancing at the approaching wall of cloud, Tina realized they were far from out of this storm or the dangers.

  As they worked on repairs, some of them merely temporary to hold them over until they could really have the time to make permanent repairs, she watched the cloud approach. She remembered the bread in her hand and ate it too. Not because she was hungry, but because it would fill the hole in her stomach and keep her strength up. She judged the cloud and went below to inspect the repairs her men had done there. The ship was holding together admirably, and she thanked the gods that she had personally requested specific modifications to this design. Stopping by the kitchen, she quickly ate a hot meal that Geoff had put together, gulping down the food before vacating her spot to another of the crew. Each of them was trying to put away as much as they could before the oncoming storm returned. They could already feel the waves getting deeper, the troughs they had to climb out of getting higher. Tina returned to the deck to watch the oncoming storm, the other side of the eye of the typhoon that they had to get through. Already another of the crew was manning the wheel while the other hurried below to get his food. “Tell Geoff to put out the fires,” she ordered him as he went by. He nodded and gave her a salute. She looked off on the horizon, recognizing one of her own fleet, the Dirty Marlin, which was why the alarm had not been raised. She peered at it, wondering how hard it had been hit and then lost sight of it as an especially large wave came over the side of the ship. Several of the men were deluged by the water coming over the side. Looking up, she saw that the crewman at the wheel was fighting it and she climbed up to take the wheel in her own hands. “If you have not eaten, you better go below while the food is still hot. I have just ordered the fire out.” He nodded, gave a salute, and hurried down from the deck, nearly losing his footing as another wave came over the side. Tina turned into the wave to ride it.

  The next couple of days were a nightmare. Tina felt her immense strength waning as she fought the wheel and the storm. In six hour shifts, she was relieved by a crewman for a couple of hours. It did not seem to help, the breaks barely long enough for her to really rest. Her body was tense, always waiting for a tell-tale sign or sound of the ship breaking apart. The winds were so fierce, they lost sails. The waves were so big, they lost men. By the time the storm was over, there were four men missing in total. Tina felt their loss personally. It all wore on her. She had not lost men before like this, except in battle.

  As the days passed and the storm lessened, they slowly began to recover from the incredible magnitude of it all. Repairs were enacted, but they were badly damaged. It would take weeks before they made it back to the harbor to finish their repairs. They found two more of their ships, limping along as they were. They quickly got in formation together to sail in safety. Supplies were shared as they helped to fix the ships, and as they sailed for the safe harbor and more supplies and repairs. Tina was anxious as the weeks passed and she wanted information. Hailing a few ships that were coming from the direction they were heading proved to be fruitless, several tried to trick her, tried to capture her damaged ship. Prates were pirates the world over, some disguised as merchantmen. Fortunately for her, the cannon deterred them. Her men shot muskets as well as she, and her other two ships could come up, the three of them defending each other. It did not stop her worry over their return. She wanted to know h
ow the city had fared, how Claire was. Her depression over losing James and the other men was exhausting her, besides the amount of work she had done personally to repair her ship. She wanted to get back to her wife, finish their trading, and get underway…away from this part of the world and the bad memories it now held.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The sight of that harbor was a welcome relief in so many ways, to all of them. The men gave a resounding cheer! Land, although a foreign shore, was welcome after all they had just been through. It would give them all a chance to recover, both physically as well as in many other ways they all needed. They could restock, restore, and replenish their supplies, enact repairs, and finish the trading. Tina wanted it all done as soon as possible. She was relieved to see another of her ships in the harbor, hoping that the men had all survived the typhoon they had just gone through. She felt overly-anxious to go and see Claire, puzzled that she was not waiting at the dock. Their house had a perfect view of the harbor and she had to have been watching for the Red Bettina. Between arranging things with her crew, including the replacement of the mast they had lost, she was quite late before she herself left the ship in the small boat they used to transport supplies when a dock was not available. The crewmen manning the oars sensed her urgency. They noted the care she had taken with her appearance to go ashore and pulled hard and deep to get them quickly ashore. She smiled at their efforts as her eyes scanned the crowds, but no blonde head was visible among the dark-haired people. She hailed a rickshaw and was grateful he spoke pigeon English as she told him her destination. It had been difficult with some of the other drivers to pantomime her temporary address while in the city.

  As Tina let herself in the gate, she looked up at the many lights of the house and was puzzled at the activity she saw within. She had never seen the house so...active. It was almost as though a party were going on and as she made her way to the front door she saw that she was right, there was a party within. She let herself in.

  “Do you have an invitation?” a lofty voice stopped her, as a hand reached out to grab her arm and stop her from proceeding.

  Tina looked down at the hand and said in a menacing voice, “This is my home. You had better be removing that hand if you want it to last, boyo.”

  With a very snooty look, the man tried to stare her down, but her pulling the knife from her sash had him backing hurriedly away, but it was just to get others to help him. One of the helpers recognized Tina.

  “Captain?” he said in astonishment. “But yer alive?” he stuttered.

  “Of course I am alive. Where is Claire?” she asked, and then did not wait for his reply as she hurried into what was obviously a party.

  She looked about in surprise. There was a small orchestra, and dancing going on in the center of their home using the ballroom that they had never used before. She looked about and one of the servants leaned over to ask her name. She did not recognize him, but realized he was a majordomo. She wondered why there were so many servants she did not know? Why had Claire needed them, and why she was throwing a party? She brushed him off as she spotted the distinctive blonde in an absolutely breathtaking, ice-blue dress. Its low cut almost had her breasts spilling out of the material, but it was the height of fashion.

  As she came up to her wife, she was puzzled by the men hovering about her and especially by the one who seemed to hold a proprietary air on her arm. “Claire?” she asked, to get her attention.

  Claire turned and went white, almost fainting as she began to fall back in surprise, but the man held her up. “Are you all right, m’dear?” he said in a decidedly upper crust and British voice as he looked down at Claire in concern.

  Claire blinked quickly, doubting her sight as she took in the nattily dressed redhead. People were looking on curiously as it was not every day you saw a woman dressed in captain’s attire. Yes, it was elegant, but it was still manly in appearance. “Tina?” she asked in a strangled voice. “I had heard you were dead,” she gasped, her hand coming up to her heaving bosom. Several of the men around her watched avidly where her hand went.

  “Who are you, madam?” the man asked defensively, holding Claire protectively, his arm around her now.

  “Who are you?” she asked in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

  “I am Lord Albert Hayes and this is my fiancée, Lady Von Hagen.” He gestured at the ball going on around them, many people stopping to stare at what was looking like a drama before them. “This is our engagement party.”

  Tina looked at Claire in astonishment, which soon turned to anger. She saw guilt written all over her wife’s face. As she contemplated running the man through with her knife, she glanced back at Claire whose color was returning to her face. Swallowing her anger, she stared at the woman who had become a stranger to her. She began to turn away.

  “Tina, let me explain,” Claire entreated her.

  Tina did not stop as she turned and walked out of the party.

  THE END

  Coming in Spring 2016

  If you have enjoyed PIRATED LOVE you’ll look forward to a sample of K’Anne Meinel’s splendid and unforgettable novel:

  Blown Away

  In print and E-book and available at fine retailers.

  Two different covers, same GREAT story!

  Chapter One

  REMEMBRANCES

  She stared at the ruins of a once beautiful farm house and memories came, flashing back in an instant yet spanning years. Over there once stood a beautiful pair of oak trees with a swing between them for her to play on. She could still hear the echoes of her mother telling her to be careful as she climbed them. Skinned knees and scraped palms; she never complained over the slivers her mother had to remove from her tomboyish activities. Their shade provided her endless hours of escape from the relentless sun and still she would burn from it. The wind would part the leaves and the sun would beat down between them. Her imagination could play for hours as she gazed up through them, envisioning them as towering giants and she a mere mortal. She loved those trees.

  “I can’t believe you climb like a monkey, and in a dress too!” her mother would scold. She remembered that fondly, the inflections, the lilt in her voice was still in her consciousness despite the span of years.

  The house still tilted haphazardly. Weather and time hadn’t pulled it to the ground and for this she was surprised as she stared at its sturdy build. Her great-grandparents had been among the first to build in this area and had used good wood and stone to construct their sturdy home. Their son and granddaughter had both raised families in this house. She scowled as she remembered she had been the last raised in this house.

  It look well picked over. The weeds around the place were elbow high and although she hadn’t seen it in over twenty years, she couldn’t help but wonder why it hadn’t been torn down before; which was why she was now here.

  “Ms. Avril?” a voice asked her respectfully and she started in surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. “Oh, I’m sorry miss, I was expecting…” he began apologizing.

  “It’s okay, you just startled me,” she said in precise and clear tones, not a hint of the accent that was unique to this part of the country and so apparent in his voice. That accent brought back other memories. Ones she’d tried to quash and couldn’t. Ones that she’d known needed exorcising, and that could only be done by coming here. It was why she had come herself. She needed to stop the dreams that had returned. Her feeling was that it was in the past and it should remain there. Her psyche though was haunting her and she had to face it, one last time.

  “I was expecting Ms. Avril,” he began again, and peered at her intently and wondering who she was. He was shorter than she, his skin brown from the winds that blew here; he was stooped from a lifetime of work.

  She smiled, not realizing the beauty that was apparent in her face. Her pale white skin hid the freckles that came out in the sun, but no tan touched her creamy milk white skin anymore. “I’m A…Avril,” she answered hesitating
over the name for only a millisecond. ‘Or, I was,’ she mentally corrected herself, but not aloud, he wouldn’t understand.

  “You’re Ms. Avril?” he asked puzzled. He peered at her for a long time shaking his head, trying to see some semblance of the youth he had known. As her smile faded, he saw a glimmer of recognition. Not of her but of her mother and that was when he took on a relieved look. His hat came off his head in an instant and his weathered face wreathed a smile showing several missing teeth. “Why Ms. Avril, you’ve all growed up!” he drawled, pleased at his discovery.

  “How are you, Mr. Davidson?” she asked pleasantly. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes though. Not with the memories pushing at her temples wanting her to remember, to relive them; all the while she was trying hard to once again suppress them.

  “Poorly,” he said honestly. “Right poorly, but I aim to do the job you is needing done. I shorely do. Just like I promised.” He gestured to the truck that was parked at the end of the drive. On the trailer attached to it sat a front end loader, securely chained to its bed.

  She glanced at it, then back at the house he had come to demolish. It was the town’s attempt at getting rid of an ‘eyesore’ that had sat there empty for over two decades. Why they had decided that it needed to be done now, she didn’t know. But she was here, as requested, to get it done. Mr. Davidson had answered her call, surprised that she remembered him. He was eager to earn the money she had promised him for the job.