by Lora Thomas
“Ahh,” Smitty replied as he raised his chin up. “Did ya happen ta mention that yer ma was a whore?”
“Yeah. So?”
Smitty rolled his eyes. “If’n ya wouldn’t kill me, I’d cuff yer ears, pup. In her mind ya just called her yer ma … who was a whore … hence, ya just called her one, too.”
“You’ve lost your mind, old man.”
“Naw, I’ve jest been around long enough ta know jest a smidgen of how the female mind works.” Smitty watched the younger man and could sense his frustration and uncertainty about the woman. Smitty placed a fatherly hand on Max’s shoulder. “She ain’t yer ma, son.”
Max jerked his arm away. “She’s a woman, isn’t she? They are all like Sybil.”
Smitty slowly shook his head. “She ain’t nothin’ like yer ma. I know.” He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. “I’m goin’ tell ya somethin’ that yer not gonna like hearin’, that nobody knows, not even the capt’n … but I knew yer ma. Hell, I even bedded her a time er two.” Smitty watched as the younger man gave him a malicious look. “I know what a bitch she was. A time er two I even seen you at Red’s when ya were still in knee breeches and saw her meanness towards ya. Yer ma was a mean bitch ta everyone … ta you, ta the other whores, ta her customers.”
Max turned fully forward to face the older man, hands clenched at his side. Smitty held up his hands.
“I don’t mean no offense, Max. But I know what that woman done ta ya. She tore every bit of love ya had out of ya and destroyed it with her cruelty. She made ya untrusting of all women. Made ya think that all women are like her. But I’m here ta tell ya, they ain’t. That feisty young thing in yer quarters ain’t nothin’ like yer ma. She has a special way about her. She’s kind and caring. I know she takes special care ta make sure you have the best grub. She mends yer clothes and keeps yer quarters as neat as a pin. Hell, she even talked ya into teachin’ her how ta read in English in order ta spend extra time with ya. She’s always a watchin’ out fer ya, ta make sure yer near.
“She’s had a rough go of it, too, ya know. She knew love from her parents and had that tore away from her. She knows what it means ta have love and lost jest like you … but different. Her love was stolen from her by another man’s hands and yers was beaten out of ya by a heartless whore. If ya keep fightin’ with that pretty young thing, yer gonna chase her away. If ya keep fightin’ with her because ya think all women are like Sybil, yer lettin’ yer ma control yer life and strip any love from ya again. If ya keep actin’ like ya are, ya let Sybil’s cruelty win again.”
Smitty watched the other man. Max’s face was expressionless. He said nothing as he turned away from Smitty and walked to the bow, letting the old pirate’s words echo through his thoughts.
Chapter Thirteen
When Max returned to his quarters later that night, he was feeling somewhat better. He had reluctantly listened to Smitty and his advice on how to deal with Kristina. He had somehow managed to avoid Alex the remainder of the night as well. He didn’t want to deal with him right now.
Kristina was curled up in a tiny ball on the bed. Silently, he walked to the wooden chair across the room, sat down and removed his boots. He gave a long, slow stretch, causing the chair to creak. The noise caused her to slightly stir, but she settled back, comfortably asleep. He slipped out of his shirt, walked quietly to the washbasin and splashed the cool water on his face. Viewing his reflection in the mirror, he rubbed the day’s growth of beard and sighed in frustration as he realized that he needed to shave today … again. He hated the fact that his facial hair grew so fast that he could shave twice a day. It would take him less than a week to grow a full beard, one long and thick enough to disguise his appearance from anyone. Rubbing his cheek again, he decided to wait to shave until the morning. As he made his way over to the pallet, the door to his room was thrust open. Max had the trespasser pressed against the wall, with a dirk to the person’s throat, before the door finished opening.
“Do you mind, Max?” Alex angrily questioned.
Max lowered the knife and eyed his friend. “What do you want, Alex? It’s late and I’m tired.”
A malicious sneer crossed Alex’s face. “And my ship has been tore all to hell because of that,” he said, pointing to the feisty Spanish lady in the bed, sleeping soundly. “Wake up!”
His loud command woke Kris. Her eyes flew open at the noise, but she didn’t rise. “What?” she grumbled, annoyed that she had been disturbed from her slumber. She pulled the covers over her head.
Alex shoved the rest of the way into Max’s room with Smitty following after.
“What’s this about?” Max replied, obviously annoyed and becoming angry.
“Well, you,” Alex said pointing at Max, “have been the devil to deal with since she came onto my ship. Everyone normally walks on eggshells around you Max, but, hell, you’re worse than normal. You even killed a man for her.” Alex turned to face Kristina. “And you nearly tore my ship apart in your anger towards Max. So I have decided that since both of you have made my life hell, I’ll make your lives hell.”
“What are you up to, Alex?” Max growled.
A tight-lipped smile crossed Alex’s face. “This is for your own good, Max. Being the captain of this ship and with Smitty as the witness, I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Max’s fist connected with Alex’s jaw before the words finished exiting his mouth. Alex saw the punch coming and attempted to sidestep, but to no avail. Max’s fist made partial contact with his jaw, the sound echoing throughout the room.
Smitty just laughed. “Told ya what his reaction would be, Capt’n.”
“Take it back,” Max growled as he grabbed Alex’s shirt, pulling him in close.
“No,” Alex replied, standing toe-to-toe with Max.
Smitty grimaced. Alex was the only person Smitty knew of who could face Max head on, unafraid, and live. Both men were inches from each other’s faces. Max’s eyes had a dangerous slant to them as he clenched his jaw. Alex’s blue eyes had darkened and his hands were coiled in tight fists, waiting on the quartermaster’s next move.
Alex growled at his friend, “Now she’s your wife, deal with her, bed her, or toss her overboard. I don’t give a damn what the hell you do with her, but you two settle your differences before I maroon you both on a deserted island.”
“But I do not want to be married,” Max protested in a low growl.
“Well, good for you,” Kristina said, finally finding her voice as she joined the argument. “But as you both seem to have forgotten, I am involved in this little mess, too.” She hopped out of bed, wearing only Max’s shirt. She marched over to the two men, undisturbed by the fact that her bare legs were exposed, and wormed her tiny body between the two giants. She shoved Max back and turned towards Alex. She began voicing her grievances at him in Spanish. Granted, in her mind she was thrilled. Her plan had worked, just not the way she wanted it to. She wanted Max to come to her, to ask her to marry him, not be forced into a union he didn’t want.
Alex raised a golden brow at the fiery raven-haired beauty. “In case you have forgotten, sweetheart, I don’t speak Spanish.”
“Don’t call me that!” she yelled at the same time Max said, “Don’t call her that!”
“Well, I really don’t give a damn whether you do or do not want to be married. You can divorce once we reach Nassau for all I care.”
“Divorce is out of the question!” Kristina interjected.
“Then get an annulment.” A sinful expression crossed Alex’s face. “Unless you have already consummated your marriage?”
Kristina’s hand connected with Alex’s cheek loudly, causing his head to turn. His eyes lowered as he looked at her. She could see the outline of her hand on his cheek and a smug look crossed her face.
Max could sense the anger building in Alex. She had deliberately attacked the captain. Max was the only one who could get away with that for the simple fact of his lifelong relation
ship with him. But Kristina? He felt an overpowering urge to protect her. Pulling her to him, he wrapped a protective arm around her body. His expression held a warning to Alex.
“Deal with your insolent wife, Max, before I do.” With that, Alex and Smitty left.
Kristina ran to the door and slammed it. For good measure she opened the door and slammed it two more times, but it didn’t ease her anger.
“Why that … how dare he … Oooooo!” Max gave a snort. She turned to face him. “This is all your fault!” she yelled, pointing at him.
Max’s eyes narrowed, “How is this my fault?”
“Well, if you hadn’t called me a whore, I wouldn’t have attempted to destroy this ship. So, it is your fault!”
Max did not respond. He clenched his jaw, turned and walked to the table. Picking up the half-full bottle of rum, he downed the remainder of the liquid with one drink. He needed to calm his nerves. He would have loved nothing more than to beat someone, but, alas, there was no one here but her. So instead he threw the bottle across the room causing the glass to shatter everywhere. Kristina flinched and took a nervous step back upon seeing his fury. His face turned to hers and she saw a blackness to his features.
“Well?” she insisted, in a tremulous voice.
“What?” he asked in an abrasive tone.
His sharp question caused her anger to return. “Admit it! It’s your fault we’re married! I hadn’t planned on it happening this way!” she admitted before she realized it.
“Planned?” The realization of what she admitted hit him. “I knew it!”
She furrowed her brows together. “What are you talking about?”
“I told you women always had a plan for something and yours just happened to be marriage.”
“You’re insane.”
“You just admitted it!”
“Fine. I did have a plan, but this wasn’t what I intended!” she insisted. There was no point in lying about it. She had planned to marry this man. The captain and his arrogant nature just expedited her plan.
“What did you intend? That I would fall hopelessly in love with you and beg you to marry me?” He snorted in disgust. “Like that would ever happen.”
Kristina could feel the tears coming to her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she willed them away. Her pride forced her chin high. “No,” she lied. “I saw you in the tavern in Tortuga. I planned on finding you and planned on you helping me and I had thought it would have been nice to have you as a husband, but I never planned for it to happen!” His comment had hurt her worse than any physical blow; she would never admit the truth to him now.
“Well, good! Because let me tell you something, Kristina. I never did plan on marrying and don’t plan on staying that way. So just get the notion of divorce set into your head, because as Alex so conveniently pointed out, annulment is out.”
“Fine.” She forced the words out, fighting the tears. “And if a child comes out of our time together, don’t bother trying to find out.”
A child! He had never thought of that. He never had to worry about that in the past. Prostitutes had ways of preventing that. He narrowed his eyes and drew his mouth tight. “You want to see what it would be like with me as a husband, you’ll find out.”
“What?!”
“You just made a valid point. I grew up fatherless, and if a child was conceived from our nights together, I will take care of it.”
“Oh, now you want to be married to me?” she hissed. “Well, you can forget it! I’ll never tell you if I am expecting, so you might as well divorce me.”
“It takes two to divorce. No, when you have proof that you are not carrying my child, we’ll divorce.” And with that statement he left, slamming the door upon his exit with such force that the washbasin was knocked from the dresser, causing the glass to shatter.
Kristina made her way through the glass fragments to the bed, threw herself face first onto the bed, and pounded the pillows. She began to cry. He made her so angry. Why did he have to be so cruel with his words? She buried her face into the pillow. Sometime during the night, she cried herself to sleep.
Max stormed to Alex’s quarters. He didn’t knock; he walked right in and straight to the liquor cabinet. Pulling out a bottle of rum, he downed the remainder of the bottle. He took out another bottle and looked around the room.
Alex was sitting at the table. After his encounter with Max and Kris, he had come straight back here and grabbed a bottle himself. He didn’t know why he had done what he did. He knew Max had vowed against marriage.
Max crossed the room and sat in a chair across from Alex. He didn’t look at his friend. He propped his feet up in the chair across from him, knowing it would irritate Alex.
“Why in the hell did you do it, Alex?” Max asked in an indignant tone.
Alex just stared at his friend, unsure of how to answer. Unsure if his friend wanted to hear what he had to say. Alex took a long, slow, deep breath. “Because I’ve noticed the way you look at her,” was his reply as he gestured towards Max’s feet in the chair.
Max ignored his friend’s gesture. “How I look at her?” Max replied with heated skepticism in his voice.
“Yes. You look at her like my father looks at my mother.”
“Hatred? I’ve never seen Jonathan look at Helen that way.”
“No,” Alex said with a small chuckle. His parents far from hated each other. They loved each other immensely. “You look at Kris with frustration and anger when she defies you, with fear and concern when she’s in danger, and with longing and caring when she pleases you. I’ve never seen you act this way with a woman before. Earlier I said that you were unapproachable, but that’s not true. You have a calmer presence about you now. Your temper is not as easy to fuel. You even laugh now. And not your normal vindictive laugh, but a true laugh. Whether you know it or not, she’s changed you, Max.”
“Well, I’ve never spent more than a night with a woman at any given time,” Max replied trying to explain his actions. “She … she … irritates the hell out of me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you implying, Alex?”
“I’m not implying anything. I just figured this would either give you the opportunity to bed the woman and get her out of your system or—”
“That didn’t work.”
“Have you tried it more than once?” Alex asked. The look Max gave him told Alex he had broached a sensitive topic, but it answered his question. “Ah, I see. Well, I guess an annulment is out of the question.” Alex watched as Max sat in the chair, unmoving. “So, if you’ve already bedded the chit and she still works on your nerves, divorce her when we reach Nassau.”
“Well, I wouldn’t need to divorce her if you hadn’t made it necessary.”
“So what’s the issue?”
“What if she’s pregnant?”
“Is she?”
“No. I don’t know. But I won’t abandon her if she is. I won’t leave her to raise a child by herself. I know how it is to grow up without a father.”
“She’s not Sybil,” Alex reminded his friend.
“I know that! But all women might as well be. They all treat bastard children the same,” Max bitterly replied.
“Max, I believe she’s not that way. I believe—”
“She planned this!” Max interrupted.
“Planned what?”
“She admitted she planned on marrying me, even before we met.” Alex began laughing at the confession. Max continued, “It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t pretend to be pregnant in order to stay married. And what’s so damn funny!”
“Why would anyone in their right mind want to marry you before they knew you? Hell, even afterwards for that matter? You scare the hell out of everyone you meet, without saying a word.”
“Shut up, Alex.”
“Sorry,” Alex said, but the laughter was still apparent in his tone. “Anyway, she’s good for you, Max, whether you know it or not. Samuel told me about her life, which I as
sume you already know about.” At Max’s nod, he continued, “You complement each other. Give her a chance. Make peace. If not for her or you, at least for the rest of us. Lord knows I don’t want to go back to James’s cooking.”
Max looked at his friend and could see he meant well. “You’re all heart you know that?” Alex just gave him a toothy grin. “I’m going to bunk here tonight, if you don’t mind. I’m afraid of what she’ll do to me if I return.”
“Fine, just get your big feet out of my chair or I’ll go to your quarters and send her here.”
With that threat Max plopped his feet down, not wanting to tackle hurricane Kristina again tonight.
Chapter Fourteen
“You lost your patience with him, daughter,” Sophia said as she stroked Kristina’s hair. Kristina looked up at her mother. She had her head in her mother’s lap like she did when she was a child. Sophia’s warm brown eyes studied her daughter. “He’s a good man, Kristina. Break the barrier surrounding his heart. He has had so much pain and heartache his entire life. Show him what love is … what it feels like to be loved.”
“I don’t know how,” Kristina admitted.
“Yes, you do. Just remember your childhood. Remember the love your father and I showed you,” Sophia told her. “I taught you all you need to know. My only regret is that I made you become too independent. And after your father and I passed, the nuns’ treatment of you turned your independence into spitefulness. Don’t let them use you as a pawn against him.”
“They’re not here, Mother.”
“I know that. But they are here,” Sophia said as she touched Kristina’s head. “And here,” she said as she tapped Kristina’s heart. “Get their bitterness out of here before it’s too late. Before you lose your dark-haired devil. He is only a man, and men have limits. You can only push them so far before they stop letting you and begin to push back. If you press him too far, he will leave you, daughter.”
“But I don’t want him to.”
“I know you don’t, child. I know you will be good to him, and he will be good to you. That’s why I led you to him. Show him what you are and what it would be like with you gone. Give him time and space. I know you are afraid. Afraid of the future. Afraid of losing him. Afraid of being alone. But don’t be. Remember your father and me. When you do this, you will remember how to love. What it feels like to be loved. Remember, Kristina. Remember.”