by Sea Fires
“Aw now, Cap’n, she said she was a good climber. And damn if she weren’t. Why you’d a been right shocked at how fast she scurried up there. And I swear on my mother’s grave she didn’t tell us what she was up to before she done it. Just grabbed hold of a ratline and up she went.”
Jack let out a deep sigh. Knowing Miranda, it was easy to believe Phin’s explanation. “What’s done is done. Thank God no harm came to the wench.” The memory of lying with her on his bunk and of what he wanted to do flashed into Jack’s mind. Henry would have a fit if he found out.
Shaking his head, Jack watched the shoreline of pines and palmettos pass by. They were sailing into the all-but-hidden inlet, toward a narrow, deep-channeled creek that Jack had discovered one time while evading a British frigate. Since then he used the landing often. It offered a safe, protected area for his crew to refit the Sea Hawk. This time he’d see the work done as quickly as possible. The sooner he had Mistress Miranda back in the loving arms of her father, the better off she’d be. And the better off he’d be.
By five bells in the forenoon watch the Sea Hawk was anchored near shore. The creek’s bottom was hard and gravelly, and at low water, the men began graving the ship’s hull. Scrubbing the barnacles from the ship’s timbers was hard work; but a pirate ship demanded speed; and to accomplish that, the hull needed frequent cleaning.
Miranda observed what she could from the transom windows. At first it was interesting watching the pirates hanging over the side and scraping at the wood. But she soon found her gaze shifting to the shore where lacquered leaves and cord grass swayed alluringly in the breeze. Miranda bit the end of her thumbnail and wondered what riches of discovery she might find beyond the cloak of green.
If only she could explore... like the naturalist, John Ray. Miranda’s shoulders dropped. She needed to do something ... anything to take her mind off her encounter with Captain Blackstone. A wave of excitement rushed through her, and she curled her arms about her waist.
This was terrible. All she could think about was him. How he looked. How it felt to be held by him, to be kissed by him. Why he pulled away so suddenly.
Miranda paced to the door. Her mind was usually full of such lofty thoughts and notions. She wondered about the universe. She wondered about animals and plant life, and gravity and light and all manner of important, and fascinating things.
And now the only thing that occupied her mind was a pirate captain. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And the only thing she could think of to change it was to immerse herself in a new project. Like exploring the vegetation on shore.
Miranda strode back to the window and flopped onto the window seat. It wasn’t as if the captain forbade her to go ashore. Miranda turned and stuck her head out the open window. They were almost close enough to the sandy beach to wade through the water. Besides, she knew how to swim even if they weren’t.
Gathering up her parchment, Miranda headed for the door. She would simply ask the captain. He’d told her she was to have nothing to do with any of the crew, but he hadn’t said anything about staying in the cabin.
The captain wasn’t on deck. No one was. Shading her face from the afternoon sun with her hand, Miranda walked around the railing, glancing over the edge as she went, for some sign of the captain. She noticed Phin hanging over the side and came close to calling down to him, but decided the captain wouldn’t like that. Instead she continued to search.
She finally found him aft of the main mast. Like the other men he was scraping at the overlapping shells stuck to the hull. He seemed so busy with his sweat-slick muscles gleaming in the sun that Miranda hesitated to yell down to him. But when she remembered that the alternative was to go back to the stifling cabin and spend her time ruminating about him, she gained courage.
“Captain Blackstone?” Miranda called twice before he looked up. “May I have a word with you?”
God’s blood, what did she want now? Jack took another vicious swipe at the hull. “What is it, Mistress Chadwick?”
“I was wondering if I might go ashore?”
“Nay.”
Nay? Just nay? No let me think, on the matter. No please be so kind as to explain why you wish to go ashore. Just nay.
Miranda squeezed in beside the belaying pins and leaned farther over the rail. “I wanted to collect some flora to study under the microscope.
Jack shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he regained some of his control, he squinted up at her. She’d braided her hair, and the thick, woven curls hung down over her shoulder as black and shiny as a crow’s wing. Jack tried to ignore his desire to dig his fingers into the sweet-smelling mass. Instead he concentrated on all her annoying little habits... like pestering him while he worked.
“I don’t recall asking why you wished to go ashore, nor do I care. ‘Tis all I can manage to keep my eye on you while you’re confined to my ship.”
“I didn’t know you thought it necessary to keep your eye on me.” After all, she’d been below in his cabin until a moment ago. The pirate captain made no comment. Like the rest of the pirates, he sat on a small, wooden swinglike contraption at the end of a long rope. Ignoring her, he started scraping again.
Miranda was used to discussing differences of opinion, thrashing them out with facts and logic. Captain Blackstone’s method of dealing with something—to simply pretend it didn’t exist—she found most annoying. Besides, she didn’t like being treated like a child who had to ask permission to do anything. Grandfather had never interfered with her studies.
With renewed zeal Miranda hung farther over the side. “Actually, it would be easier to watch me if I were on the beach. See?” She leaned over until only the tips of her shoes touched the deck. “You’d have naught to do but turn your head to monitor my whereabouts.”
He didn’t intend to, but Jack swung his head around toward the creek’s edge. He did have a clear view of the sandy beach that served as a buffer between the pine forest and the gently lapping water. But just because he could see the beach didn’t mean he was going to let her get off the ship. He glanced up to tell her, and his mouth went dry.
“What are you doing? Do you want to fall into the creek?” She was leaning over the side so far, Jack thought any moment she might topple over into the water.
Miranda slid back over the rail. “You needn’t worry. I know how to swim.”
“That’s truly a comfort.” Jack’s heart seemed to be steadying to its regular pace.
“Actually, I could swim to shore if you’d rather not be bothered to take me.”
“Hell, yes, I’d rather not be bothered. But that does not mean I want you swimming to the beach.” Jack stuck his scraping tool into his belt and grabbed hold of the rope. If he was going to get any work done, it probably would be best if he took her to the shore. She could sit in the shade, do whatever it was she did, and be out of his hair.
Miranda watched him pull himself hand over hand up the hemp. It brought back vivid memories of when she’d clung to him and he’d shimmied down a rope... and of what had happened in the cabin after that.
He bounded over the rail and landed on deck. As with every time she saw him, Miranda was struck by his size. Or maybe this time it was because he wore no shirt. His smooth, bronzed chest shone slick with sweat. And Miranda couldn’t help watching a droplet run down the flat plane of his stomach and soak into his cotton breeches.
He turned, walking away on bare feet, and Miranda followed. “Gather whatever you wish to take with you. I’ll lower the boat.” They actually were close enough to shore to swim, but he wasn’t having Henry think Jack didn’t treat his daughter with utmost respect.
The whole time he’d ben scraping at the barnacles, Jack had thought of his vow to his friend. He’d said he would treat her as he would his sister. Well, he sure hadn’t been thinking of his sister when he kissed Miranda.
“I’m ready.”
Jack turned and scowled down at her. She had a straw bonnet perched atop her
head and her parchment and charcoal. At that moment Jack thought to ask her about the strange drawing he’d found on his desk, but decided against it. He didn’t want her thinking he was interested in whatever she was doing.
Jack used the short row to shore to emphasize the rules she was to follow. “Stay on the beach. Do not go anywhere. Do not do anything. Oh, and stay out of the water,” Jack added. He remembered her words about knowing how to swim and could just imagine her trying it.
“I’ll come back for you in two hours. If for any reason you wish to return to the ship before that, just yell.”
“Thank you, Captain. I shall be fine.” Miranda spread a blanket out on the sand and seated herself beneath the shade of a large live oak draped with gossamer veils of Spanish moss.
The pirate captain pulled the boat onto shore and, after giving her one more reminder to stay put, waded into the water and swam to his ship. Miranda watched as he returned to his spot near the anchor. His powerful arms caught hold of the rope, and he hoisted himself onto his wooden plank. Before he set to scraping he turned his head and stared at Miranda.
She waved; he didn’t.
Miranda had plenty to keep her busy in this new setting. Species of plants she’d only begun to explore before her kidnapping lined the beach in seemingly limitless variety. She had only to reach out to trace a leaf’s serrated edges or outline the meandering of a vine. Everywhere she looked there was something new and exciting to see. Then, why did she spend the majority of her time watching the pirate captain?
Telling herself she only wanted to examine his musculature, she studied his form as he bent over his task. She picked up her charcoal and decided to do a series of drawings of him, not just the one. When Miranda caught herself concentrating on just the right way to sketch his aristocratic nose, and the shape of his generous mouth, she knew this had gone way beyond scientific research of anatomy.
In exasperation Miranda tossed aside her charcoal. What was wrong with her? She was the pirate’s captive. If anything, she should be thinking of ways to escape him. After all, she only had his word that he planned to take her back to Charles Town.
What if her father couldn’t pay the ransom? Or what if the messenger couldn’t find this place? She glanced around. It was certainly remote, seemingly inaccessible except by sea. And she certainly had seen no indication that a messenger had arrived... or even that anyone was expecting one. Yet, the captain had clearly said that here was where he was to receive the money.
But who would bring it? Miranda stood and walked along the edge of the small beach. It was completely surrounded by dense forest and underbrush. She couldn’t even find a path. It was perplexing to consider how a messenger would find this place. Miranda shook her head. It just wasn’t logical.
But then nothing about Captain Blackstone was... including her own reaction to him.
With a sigh, Miranda went back to her blanket. The sun’s angle threw most of the woolen square in bright light, so she pulled it back farther into the shade. Sitting down, she set to sketching the palmetto tree off to her right.
It was warm even in the shade, and Miranda found her eyes drifting shut. She didn’t want to sleep, so she shook herself and straightened her back. That’s when she noticed the small lizard sitting on her blanket. She’d seen them before in Charles Town but never this close.
It was about three inches long, a vivid green in color, with a tongue that whipped out periodically. Slowly, Miranda moved toward the lizard for a better look. She reached out her hand just as it darted off the blanket into the sand.
Miranda pushed to her feet and watched it scurry into the underbrush. Without a thought other than studying the lizard more closely, Miranda followed.
“What’s all this yelling about?” Jack bounded over the rail and wedged his way through the circle of men to Scar and No Thumb. The two pirates, one large and dark, the other scrawny and fair, glared at each other beneath lowered brows. These two had their share of squabbles, and usually Jack let them work through them without his interference.
But this time the noise from the rest of his crew was so great that he couldn’t ignore it. He’d been over the side careening when he’d first heard them. Just to make certain Miranda Chadwick wasn’t at the center of this brouhaha, he’d glanced toward shore. She was sitting innocently on her blanket, and he’d had to smile at the pretty picture she made as she bent over something near her.
But he didn’t watch her long, because the men on deck recaught his attention. What were they doing on deck anyway? Everyone had orders to be cleaning the hull so that they could get the job finished and get back to Charles Town.
Now he found the men were not only slacking off their jobs; they were nearly having a free for all.
“All right, I want to know what this is all about.” Jack shouldered between the two pirates. “Well?”
No Thumb jutted out his bristly jaw. “This good-for-nothing son of a whore says we’re gonna be sucked into the ground.”
“What?” Jack could barely believe his ears. His crew had some pretty strange ideas sometimes but this...”Scar, you know better than that.”
“Weren’t me sayin’ it. Mistress Miranda told us.”
This announcement set off a barrage of yelling, most of which was directed at Scar. The scene was so ridiculous that at first Jack could only stand and stare at his men in amazement. Then he took a deep breath. “God’s blood, would you be quiet! All of you.”
Mouths clamped shut, and all eyes turned toward Jack. He met their stares, then let out his breath. “Now, Phin, tell me what this is about,” he asked his quartermaster when he thought things had calmed a bit.
“Ain’t sure, Cap’n. Scar here says Mistress Miranda said we was goin’ to be sucked down.”
“I already heard that part of it. When did she say this?” Jack’s fist clenched. So help him if he found out she’d gone behind his back and told this rubbish to his men he’d... Lord help him, he didn’t know what he’d do.
“That’s just it, Cap’n. She ain’t never said no such thing. She talked to us ‘bout gravity.” Phin paused to make certain everybody noticed his use of the scientific word. “But that was the day she climbed the... well, ye know what she climbed.”
He did indeed. That moment he’d looked up to see her hanging on the shrouds was etched forever in his mind.
“And she hasn’t been spouting this nonsense since then?”
“Hell no, Cap’n. None of us done more’n seen her. Which to my thinkin’ is the problem.”
Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about?” His crew listening to her had caused all this mayhem.
“If n she could explain stuff to us, maybe Scar wouldn’t be so all fired mixed up.”
“I ain’t mixed up. She said—”
“Quiet!” Jack’s hands rested on his hips. “Let me get this straight. You all want to hear what this... woman has to say. Even though she talks about maggots and being sucked into the ground?”
“She didn’t say nothing ‘bout being sucked in. And, aye. We do want to hear what she has to say ‘bout stuff.”
There was a general mumbling of agreement that even Scar joined. Jack could only shake his head. What in the hell had come over his crew? God’s blood, they were pirates, not green schoolboys. But if they wanted to listen, Jack didn’t see what he could do about it. He sure didn’t want Miranda Chadwick to cause a mutiny on the Sea Hawk by not talking.
“All right, men. I’ll allow her to come on deck and talk to you again. But you still have to do your work.” Their nods and smiles were almost humorous. “I’m going to fetch her and see what she has to say about this agreement.”
“Where is her ladyship, Cap’n?”
“She’s right over—” Jack turned to point to the shore, and his jaw dropped open. There on the beach was the blanket, a straw hat... and nothing else.
“God blood!” Running to the side, Jack vaulted over the rail and dov
e into the creek.
Chapter Eight
There was a path.
As soon as Miranda cleared the first tangle of underbrush, she found it: a footpath leading farther into the woods. By this time she had lost track of the lizard, but was sure there was much more to see.
Blocked from the sea breeze by the veil of leaves, the air hung heavy and thick. Insects droned about, dancing slowly among the beards of Spanish moss drooping from the trees.
Miranda stood in the middle of the trail and gazed about her. Slivers of sun filtered through the pine needles. This was so different from the forests in England. Everything... the flora, the insects, the birds squawking in the branches begged to be investigated.
Gnawing on her thumbnail, Miranda looked back where she’d pushed through the bushes, then forward along the path. She wasn’t foolish enough to explore where she could get lost. When she followed the lizard, she’d broken off twigs so that she could find her way back to the beach. But now she didn’t even have to do that. There was a path... obviously well used. All she had to do was stay close to it and she wouldn’t lose her way.
She thought of Captain Blackstone, and indecision seized her. What if he noticed she was gone? But he probably knew about the path and would figure she just went for a stroll. She wasn’t going to be long. And she probably would never get another chance like this. Her father was much more protective of her than Grandfather had been. Papa didn’t allow her the freedom to simply explore.
Miranda started along the sandy footway. Besides, it wasn’t as if she owed the pirate captain anything. He did kidnap her, for heaven’s sake. And it wasn’t like she was trying to escape. She’d come back.
In the meantime she could collect all sorts of wonderful samples. Miranda pinched some leaves off a vine tangling up around a live oak trunk. For lack of her sample pouch, she gathered up her skirt in front, forming a sack where she deposited her finds. She only wished she’d thought to bring her parchment so that she could record her findings. Instead, Miranda spoke softly to herself, describing the texture of the tree trunks and the knobby way the roots stuck out of the soil, trying to store these facts in her memory.