Then with a shrug, Jamie forced himself to get back to the problem at hand. Finding the source of the water. From behind him he could hear Anne’s occasional protest.
“I laugh all the time.”
“In truth there has been very little to laugh about since I met you.”
“Being marooned on a small boat in the middle of the ocean is not very amusing.”
And then when he thought she was finished arguing with herself she yelled, “Constant grinning like some silly cat who lapped the cream is not a sign of good nature, you know.” Because of her Jamie stepped into the clearing with that very grin plastered on his face.
“Looks as if we’ve found it,” he announced, then stepped aside for Anne to get the full impact of the small pond of crystal-clear water. Trumpet-shaped scarlet flowers vined around the edge as if ready to herald their arrival.
“It’s beautiful,” Anne breathed, stepping forward into the shaded glade. “Where did the water come from?”
“An underground spring, I imagine.” Jamie scooped some to his mouth, checking for potability.
“Well, I for one am thankful.” Anne leaned forward and twirled her fingers in the cool liquid. “How far do you think we are from the beach?”
Standing, hands on lean hips, Jamie looked toward the east. “’Tis hard to say. We’ll go back this way and find out.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. Then we’ll have to make a path. I suppose you can cut one out with the knife. And collect some sort of containers for the water.” Anne wrinkled her brow. “Coconut shells will have to do at first until we can think of something else.” Her expression brightened. “And a storage shed. We’ll need something built near our shelter where we can store the water.” She looked toward Jamie, obviously pleased with her suggestions. He merely stared back.
“We have storage for the water.” He jerked a thumb toward the pond. “And there it be.”
“Well, I...” Anne sucked in air that smelled exotic and mildly erotic. She ignored the scent. “I realize that’s where the water is now. However, we need it closer.”
“Why?”
Anne blinked. Few people ever questioned her orders. Partly because her ideas were usually correct, and partly because those around her didn’t have the time or inclination to think of practical things. That task had fallen to her from the time she could remember. First with her parents, and then when she went to live with Uncle Richard and Arthur.
The citizens of Libertia, their minds full of lofty democratic ideals, had utilized Anne’s talents to the fullest, putting her in charge of seeing that the island ran smoothly. While they lived their grand experiment.
With the exception of her parents’ death and d’Porteau’s devastating attack on Libertia, she’d never failed. She didn’t intend to now.
Squaring her shoulders Anne faced the pirate. “If we are to live here for any length of time, we need to behave like civilized people.”
“Which means?”
“Building a storage shed for water.” Anne turned and started to forge a path toward the beach. She heard him follow, imagined he shrugged in that offhand way he had. While she trudged, Anne tried to think of a foolproof argument for why they did need the water closer. Most of her reasons evaporated like smoke when after a short distance she broke through, stepping into the blinding sunlight onto the beach.
She didn’t need to shift around to know the smug, self-satisfied expression on the captain’s face. But she did anyway. Her chin notched up. “We shall need a path anyway.”
“I’ve no problem with that.”
“And some sort of shelter.”
He shrugged and glanced around, squinting toward the treetops. “Nothing too fancy.”
“Something sturdy enough to keep out the elements,” Anne countered. My God, if he had his way they would sleep sprawled on the warm sand. An image sprang to her mind, of them lying, both naked to the night, gritty sand sticking to their entwined, sweat-slick bodies. She swallowed, forcing the thought aside. “I don’t wish to sleep in the pouring rain.”
“Nor do I.”
“Good.” Anne turned on her heel. “Then it’s settled.”
Except nothing was settled.
Jamie grimaced and clenched his jaw as she supervised the cutting of the palm fronds that would form their roof. Since he was near the top of a palm tree, having shimmied his way up, and she was giving unnecessary orders from the ground, he found it twice as annoying.
With a yelp she jumped out of the way just in time to avoid the broad leaf he let fall to the sand.
Construction of the shelter, which Jamie envisioned more as a lean-to type structure while Anne thought a square hut more the thing, was no easy task. By the time hunger drove Jamie to dive into the turquoise water, knife between his teeth, the roof he’d managed to fasten to the oars from the boat wasn’t half the size of the plan she’d drawn in the sand.
“We need more room,” Anne called after him as he disappeared beneath the water. With a sigh she glanced at the rough shelter he’d thrown together, a grimace darkening her face. There was barely room for both of them beneath the roof. And certainly no extra space between them. Which was fine, Anne assured herself, for she could sleep out under the stars. After all, she’d done it many times since going aboard the Lost Cause.
Just as long as it didn’t rain.
While the captain fished for their supper, Anne set about making beds out of the dried seaweed that collected around the rock formations. She made certain to keep a strip of sand, no matter how narrow between the two mounds. When she was finished she looked around for something to use as a cover for the mattresses, but could find nothing.
“Tomorrow I’ll start weaving mats,” she mumbled, adding that to her mental list of things to do.
For now she gathered twigs and fallen branches, using some of the dried seaweed to catch the spark from the flint. She had a good fire going by the time the captain returned with a fish large enough to fed them both. To this main dish they added coconut meat, and crystal-clear water, each pronouncing their repast a feast.
If the captain noticed anything about the beds he didn’t comment as he leaned back on his elbows and tilted his head to study the stars that came out while they ate. Anne sat stiff-backed watching the flicker of light and shadow from the fire play across him: the bold bone structure of his face; the plains and valleys of his body.
She’d always thought there was something savage about him, something wild, but never more so than now. He seemed to meld into his surroundings, the broad stretch of isolated beach, the untamed forest beyond. And the sea. Always the sea.
He shifted, the gold in his ear loop catching the light, and his eyes met hers. Even in the near darkness she could see their blue-green color, yet another link with the sea. Anne’s heart thumped, and it was all she could do to breathe.
“’Tis a good job ye did with the beds,” he said, his voice low, blending with the eternal lap of the waves, the soft clatter of wind through the palms.
“Thank you.” Anne’s mouth was dry.
He pushed to his feet and without another word stretched out on one of the seaweed pallets. After he wriggled a bit to get comfortable he crossed his arms over his bare chest and shut his eyes. Within minutes his snores joined the symphony of night sounds.
Anne looked from him to the seaweed beside him, then back to him. True, there wasn’t much space between, but then there didn’t seem much need for any. After taking a deep breath Anne settled into her own bed. But it was a long time before she slept.
And even then her mind was filled with thoughts of the sinfully handsome pirate captain.
Chapter Thirteen
Sleeping late was becoming a habit Anne couldn’t appear to break.
It didn’t seem to matter how often she told herself that she would rise at first light, she still managed to wake to find the sun rising in the sky and the captain gone. On the third day on the island, like the other two, she
found him swimming out by the rock formations. With the dolphin. Except for her stay-a-bed tendencies and the fact that she rose to the smell of fish cooking, Anne would have berated him for wasting time.
Not that he didn’t work, Anne admitted to herself as she waded knee-deep into the water, scattering a covey of stiffly stepping herons. The previous day he hacked out a definite path to the pond. It wasn’t as wide as Anne thought it might be, but there was a path. And since he only had her knife to work with, she gave him credit for an admirable job.
Anne splashed water onto her face and scrubbed down over her cheeks. By the time she finger-combed her hair and started back toward shore, Anne noticed the captain swimming her way. She braced herself for the sight of him emerging from the water. It still took her breath away. But at least she didn’t let him know how much the sight of him dripping wet, his breeches clinging to him like a second skin, affected her.
As usual his spirits were good in the morning, a trait Anne found annoying.
“I think Lucy has decided to take up permanent residence here,” he announced once onshore. He shook himself as thoroughly as any dog Anne had ever seen, then glanced out to where the dolphin arched out of the water.
“I imagine this is as good a place for her to stay as any,” Anne responded without enthusiasm. She couldn’t help thinking the captain spent too much time frolicking with the creature. Time he could use to accomplish something. She knew he credited the dolphin with saving their lives. Anne was less inclined to believe.
After pulling her jacket over her wet shirt Anne stepped into her shoes and followed the captain to their makeshift table. The fish was tasty; the water refreshing.
To keep her mind off the captain’s bare chest, and the fact that the sun seemed to be bronzing it darker, and bleaching the hair lighter with each passing day, Anne started her mental list of things to do. It was growing to include such things as strengthening and expanding their shelter, which Anne still found too small, when the pirate leaned back and surprised her with his announcement.
“What do you mean today is a holiday?”
“I mean we should declare it one.” He grinned at her. “Make it a day of thanksgiving.”
Her brow arched. “You plan to spend time on your knees, thanking God?” Somehow she couldn’t reconcile that vision with the pirate.
Apparently he couldn’t either, for he leaned back and laughed, a sound that sent shivers down her spine.
“Nay,” he chuckled. “Though I do believe today is the Sabbath, so if you’re so inclined... He shrugged his powerful shoulders and left the rest unsaid.
“Is it Sunday?” A wave of sorrow passed through Anne when she realized she’d lost track of the days. From now on, she decided, she’d make a small mark on the largest palm each day.
“Aye.” He smiled at her again after biting off a hunk of fish with his strong teeth. “A day of rest.”
Anne didn’t know whether to believe him or not about it being Sunday. But she didn’t think they had time for a day of rest or a holiday, and told him so.
“And just what do ye think is so important that needs done?” He sat up and leaned toward her, his expression sober. “We have a shelter.” Jamie ignored her mumbled, “of sorts”. “A path to the pond.” To Jamie’s way of thinking, they’d taken care of the essentials.
“Well, for one thing, I thought we might begin drying fish today.”
“Drying fish? What in hell for?”
His tone made Anne fold her arms. “Well, we have no salt to preserve them so... We do have sea salt. Do you think that would work?”
“I think ’tis foolish to bother. We have all the fresh fish we want.”
What he said made sense. Except that Anne was a firm believer in squirreling things away in case of emergency. Experience had taught her that lesson. Her chin notched up. “What if something happens to you and you can’t swim out to fish for us?” Anne thought her argument a good one and was gratified to see him nod slowly. She was confident there would be no more talk of taking the day to lie around on the beach.
“’Tis a point ye have there, Annie.” Jamie stood and stretched. “And one I’ve been remiss in ignoring.”
“Good.” Anne rose putting off cleaning the area for the moment in favor of explaining to him how she wanted the drying racks built. “I thought perhaps over there out of the way. We could dig a pit for the fire and then construct some sort of ledge where we could line up the fish....” Anne stepped closer to him, her eyes narrowing. “Are you listening to me?”
His only response was to look down at her and grin.
“I don’t think you heard a word I said.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Annie. You’re worried I might be unable to bring in food, and ye be right in your concern. ’Tis possible that could happen. That’s why it’s time ye learn to swim.”
“Swim?” Anne sputtered the word. “But I can’t.”
“And that’s because ye’ve never been taught, I’ll wager.”
What was there to learn? You got into the water and either floated to the top, or as in Anne’s case, sank to the bottom like a stone. She wasn’t interested in swallowing choking amounts of salt water on such foolishness. “I haven’t time,” she told him, then turned to walk away.
But before she could take a step his hand clamped about her arm. “Now what are ye going to say needs doing?” His brow arched questioningly.
“Well there’s...” Anne began but stopped when he began shaking his head.
“There’s plenty to eat. We’ve water to drink. A shelter’s been built.”
“Of sorts.”
“Now, Annie, let’s don’t start denigrating me work.”
“It isn’t large enough... or sturdy enough.” Anne glanced toward the roof on stilts because it was less disconcerting than staring into his sea-colored eyes.
Jamie studied the structure a moment, then shrugged. “Perhaps I could expand it a bit.” He tightened his hold when she tried to slip away. “But not today.” With one scooping motion he had a wriggling Anne in his arms.
“Put me down, you brute. No! What do you think you’re doing?”
What he was doing was slowly walking into the surf. “Now, Annie,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t believe ye want me putting ye down here.”
He was right. Instinctively, as the water swirled higher and higher around his legs, Anne clung more tightly to his broad shoulders. “Take me back. Oh, please take me back.”
“Now, Annie.” Jamie slowed his pace when he stood waist-deep in the calm sea. “It seems to me that ye have an unnatural fear of the water.”
“What’s unnatural is swimming about like a fish.” His laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating into her body where she was pressed against him.
“I can see why ye might think so, but Annie, I assure ye it isn’t true. Especially since, at least for a while we’ll be living on this wee bit of land surrounded by water. Now try not to dig your fingernails quite so deeply into my arms.”
“But you’re trying to put me into the water.”
“Aye, that I am.” Jamie grimaced when her nails clawed deeper. “But ye can stand here with no trouble. And I won’t let ye go till you’re ready.”
Since he was pulling her away from him, forcing her feet into the water, it didn’t appear Anne had any choice in the matter. Still, she persisted. “Do you swear?”
“Me word as a gentleman,” he said with a grin.
The water crept up Anne’s body. “You’re no gentleman.”
He seemed to take the insult good-naturedly, simply lifting a shoulder. “My word as a pirate then.”
Hardly reassuring as pirates were notorious for not keeping their word, but it seemed the best Anne could do. Her feet were planted on the sandy bottom while warm water lapped at her breasts. The sensation was not unpleasant. Especially when the tall, powerful captain was close, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.
They stood
that way for so long with him grinning down at her that Anne wondered why she’d fought this so. That is until he suggested she dip her face into the water.
Her hands cupped, Anne decided to do the next best thing. Liquid dripped down her chin.
“Nay. Down under, like this.” His hands skimmed lower on her arms as he squatted, plunging his head below the crystalline-green surface. He reemerged wet and blinking. Just hold your breath and sink.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Now, Annie...”
Anne jerked her arms free. “I want no more of this foolishness,” she said, taking a step toward shore.
“All right, ye don’t have to stick your face under,” Jamie conceded.
Anne hesitated. “We can just stand here?”
“For a bit.” Jamie folded his arms. “Until ye feel comfortable.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable.” Anne started to cross her arms. “No, stop. What are you doing?” Again Anne was lifted off her feet, this time to be lowered until she lay on the water’s surface. At least she would be lying if not for the arms that clung to the captain.
“I’m going to teach ye to float.” Jamie unfastened her grip around his neck only to have her latch onto his arms. “Now ye have to trust me, Annie.”
“But I don’t,” she insisted. “Put me down.”
“Now, lass, you’ve hurt me feelings.”
“What are you talking about? Oh!” Anne clutched his elbows tighter as he shifted, dipping her lower into the water.
“Saying ye don’t trust me. After all we’ve been through.” He actually did look as if his feelings were hurt. At least it seemed that way to Anne. “Who rowed day after day?”
“Following a dolphin.”
“True enough. But it got us here, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” she finally admitted.
“Then to my way of thinking your trust is something I’ve already earned.”
Anne took a deep breath, hoping it wouldn’t be her last before plunging beneath the water. “What do you want me to do?”
“That’s a good lass.”
My Seaswept Heart Page 19