Shiver Her Timbers (The Plundered Chronicles Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  Grace held One Eye and watched with a raised eyebrow as Lake carefully spread the thick sap across the gash. “It will seal the blood to prevent him from bleeding to death, but if the wound is too deep, there is nothin’ we can do.”

  Grace nodded. “Get us to the ship, Tavish. Stop fer no one.”

  They made good time and arrived just as the Malendroke entered the bay.

  “We’ll need to row out to it,” Grace said.

  “I’ll find a boat.” Quinn was out of the wagon with Lake and his two men right behind her.

  Once they found a boat large enough to carry them all, Quinn opened the purse hanging around her waist and paid the harbormaster more than he asked for.

  Lake tilted his head. “They pay ya pirates well.”

  Quinn barely grinned. “Why else be one?”

  In less than an hour, they were all aboard the Malendroke, with One Eye and the other injured down below.

  “I need that physician from the Breeze,” Grace said, grabbing her whiskey and gulping some down. “As soon as she comes this way, I need ya to get him here.”

  Nodding, Quinn went back out to the Malendroke’s deck and thanked Innis for firing.

  “Sorry it took so long.”

  “No apology necessary, Innis. Ya saved us.”

  “Not me, Callaghan. The captain saved ya. She always has an exit plan, and she had this one in place long ago.” Innis faced Quinn, one hand still on the wheel. “Ya took a big risk stayin’ with her. She’s not likely to forgive that.”

  Shrugging, Quinn felt bone-weary. “She’s our captain. I knew she’d never leave our wounded.”

  “Well, she’s either gonna toast yer courage or smack ya upside the head.”

  Turned out, she did both.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Quinn and Lake stood over the bedside of Evan. The physician had taken care of Evan’s head. There was a lump on his head, but the gash at the back of his head had been expertly sewn up, and he was resting peacefully.

  “Ya saved his life... our lives.” Lake’s voice was low and almost inaudible. “No one but Evan thought ya’d come back fer us. He never gave up hope.”

  Quinn kept looking at Evan’s soft features: Evan, who knew she’d be back.

  “We owe ya our lives, Captain Callaghan,” Lake said more softly than Quinn had ever heard him speak.

  “It’s just Callaghan. And no, ya don’t. Ya’d have come back fer us. Ya did. Ya could have stayed on the ship, but ya didn’t. Ya saved me and saved Evan. Ya probably have saved One Eye.”

  “That remains to be seen. He took it pretty deep.”

  Evan stirred.

  “I’ll leave ya alone.” Quinn started to leave when Lake reached for her arm.

  “No. He will want to see ya.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  Lake took his hand off her arm. “Ya doona strike me as a man with little brain. Ya surely are aware of how Evan... er, never mind. I’ve got to check on the rest of my men. Some were burned bad in that fookin’ fire. Stay. Please. As a favor to me.”

  The last sentence was said with a great deal of hesitation––Quinn figured because he so seldom said it. “I’ll stay.”

  Lake nodded. “Thank ya. Make sure he’s comfortable. If he needs ennathin’, ennathin’ at all, come to me.” With that, Lake left Quinn alone with Evan.

  Pulling up a chair, Quinn picked up Evan’s hand. It was so much smaller than her own. “I’m here, Evan.” Glancing down at his gentle features, she traced his eyebrow with her index finger. “What spell have you cast on me, little laoch?”

  Quinn sat with Evan for two more hours. Four times, one of her crew came to her quarters to report on the repairs. The fifth time, Tavish pulled up a chair next to her.

  “How’s he doin’?”

  “Hard to say. He’s alive.”

  “Well then, that’s somethin’, ain’t it?” Tavish patted Quinn’s shoulder. “Ya okay, lad? Ya seem a bit withdrawn.”

  Quinn sighed. “I knew some Scots opposed Mary, but I had no idea what we were truly facing. It seems like half her countrymen wish her dead.”

  “Aye, lad. I fear fer the worst where Mary is concerned. I doona ken if we will arrive in time to help her.”

  “Grace O’Malley is correct in her assessment of the Scottish situation. Without Scotland between us, it truly is only a matter of time before Elizabeth comes after Ireland. That is all I shall say on the matter.”

  When Tavish was gone, Quinn started to leave. Evan’s hand reached out for her and gently held her hand.

  Sitting back down, Quinn held his hand once again. “I’m here. I’m here.” Laying her head on the edge of the bed, Quinn closed her eyes. “I’m not goin’ ennawhere, Evan. I promise.”

  When she opened them, it was dark out. She thought about checking on her crew, but her eyelids were too heavy and her body was still sore and weary. Instead, she climbed in next to Evan, who was now asleep facing the wall.

  Checking Evan’s head, Quinn was relieved to see the bump had gone down a bit. “Ya better be alive when I wake up.”

  As her eyelids slammed shut and her fatigued body relaxed into the bed, she thought about Fiona and how much she loved sleeping with her. Her soft body always yielded to her as they lay together like two spoons. Fiona would back her arse up into Quinn’s thighs and comment on how nice it was not to deal with a dick against her back and how amazingly soft Quinn’s skin was.

  As her mind drifted to different tangents, she threw her arm over Evan’s body. It fit into hers much like Fiona’s.

  As her hand brushed across Evan’s nightshirt, Quinn’s eyes suddenly popped open.

  In her hand was a small lump of flesh that shouldn’t have been there: The same sort of lump she tucked her hand under whenever she slept with Fiona.

  Was it possible?

  Had she overlooked Evan the way everyone overlooked her?

  How had she missed the fact that

  Evan

  Was

  A

  Woman?

  * * *

  The next morning, Quinn was at the helm, following in the Malendroke’s wake as they rounded Northern Scotland. She’d been up since before dawn checking on the repairs and making sure the Breeze could make it the rest of the way.

  All she could think about was Evan. A woman. Suddenly, she was relieved to know she had not had feelings for a man. She had not been able to figure out how that could happen, and now she knew—she happily knew.

  She just did not know quite what to do about it.

  Two of Lake’s men had died during the night; one from burns, the other from an ax wound. Lake would not allow the crew to throw the bodies overboard.

  Quinn lost five of her crew in the melee. The Scots had had the numbers and the advantage initially, but Grace’s crew had fought back valiantly. Still the loss of Irish life was something she’d never gotten accustomed to.

  What had amazed Quinn the most was the ferocity with which the galloglaighs fought. Reckless abandon was putting it mildly. They appeared to enjoy it thoroughly, and she’d never seen anything like it.

  Still, a loss was a loss, and they’d lost too many this round.

  “How’d little Evan fare through the night?” Lake’s voice cut through the cool morning air.

  Quinn stared straight ahead, the knowledge of Evan’s secret burning a hole through her. “Slept all the way through. I think he’ll be fine.”

  A long pause.

  “I appreciate ya watchin’ him overnight.”

  Quinn gripped the wheel tighter. Could it be? No. It was impossible that Lake didn’t know. Of course he knew. She came to his family as a young girl. “No worries, Lake. It is what we do fer each other on Grace O’Malley’s ships.”

  “Much appreciated. Evan... is special. To me. To my family. To me people. He... has saved me life more times than I can count.”

  This made Quinn turn. “He saved ya?”

  Lake nodded. “A goo
d laoch cuidich is worth their weight in gold, Callaghan. They make sure the right weapon is in yer hand at the right time. They keep ya fed, watered, healthy. One time, I was fightin’ three men at a time and me sparth took an odd hit that cracked it, renderin’ it unusable. I was a dead man at that moment, but Evan saw it all before it happened. It was like he had a sense aboot it. He called me name. When I turned, there was an ax comin’ at me end over end and a sword doin’ the same. I threw my arms up and both weapons landed smack in me hands.” He shook his head. “Took no talent on me part. I just flung me hands out in front of me and they landed in me palms as if summoned. I got ’em, whirled around, and cut all three down without breakin’ stride. I went from dead man to the only man left standin’ all because of his instincts.”

  “He saved yer life.”

  “More than once. Evan is family. And what ya did––protectin’ him that way––well, that makes ya one of us... and we are special, we galloglaighs. Ya have our allegiance, Callaghan. Now and forever, if ya ever need us, just call and we will come runnin’.”

  When Lake was gone, Quinn regripped the wheel, questions swirling around in her mind.

  Evan was a woman.

  A woman.

  Like her.

  Wearing men’s clothes, fighting in a man’s world, being as much a man as any man on the ship—Evan was just like her.

  Just like her.

  Suddenly, Quinn wondered how many others out there were like her? How many women eschewed their traditional clothing in favor of pants and a jerkin? How many other women were sick of the roles they were forced into?

  At least two she knew of.

  What did that mean to her?

  As the wind blew through her hair and she kept her eyes on the main mast of Grace’s ship, Quinn could not stop the warm feeling flowing through her veins when she thought about Evan’s soft lips and creamy skin.

  Then there was the way Evan had called to her... No, not the way Evan called to her, but the way her call stoked the fire within Quinn.

  And it had burned her deeply. It was burning her now.

  “Ya keep thinkin’ that hard and yer head’s gonna bust.”

  It was Tavish.

  Quinn just shrugged. “Lots to think about since that damnable island.”

  “I ken that ya and Captain O’Malley are close––closer than most of us... but... well... if ya ever need to talk to someone, lad, ya can always talk to me. Ya can trust me, Callaghan. Hell, ya’ve trusted me with yer life, but never yer secrets. Never those.”

  Quinn’s head whipped around. “Secrets? What are you talking about?”

  Tavish leaned closer. “We all have them, lad. Some are bigger than others, and the one ya’ve been carryin’ might be the biggest one on this ship.” He laid his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “I can help shoulder some of that burden, if ya’d let me.”

  Quinn stared straight ahead, her heart racing.

  How could she trust this man with her life, her very life, and yet not confide in him about who she really was? Was her fear of rejection so great she couldn’t bring herself to trust a man who had and would lay his life down for her?

  Suddenly, she felt inches tall.

  “When yer ready, lad. I’ll be here.”

  As Tavish walked away, Quinn inhaled a deep lungful of sea air. Maybe he was right about shedding some of her skin. She remembered how great it felt when Grace knew. It took a load off her to know she could be herself around someone.

  Herself.

  Funny thing was, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore.

  She’d spent so much time being Callaghan, she wasn’t even sure she knew who Quinn Gallagher was anymore.

  * * *

  They docked in Aberdeen to pick up supplies and more local galloglaighs that Lake knew. When the Scots left the dock area, Grace and her crew hustled about the village collecting food and supplies, checking the riggings, and making sure all three ships were in excellent working order before making the final push down the coast.

  Grace, Quinn, Tavish, and Innis stood on the pier watching the men checking, loading, and scurrying about doing their duties.

  “Word has it the queen is inland at her place in Jedburgh,” Tavish said.

  “Jedburgh?”

  Tavish nodded. “Aye. By the looks of it, she is stayin’ on the move. Somethin’ must have happened while we were away.”

  “Even with a baby?” Quinn asked.

  “Especially with the baby.”

  Grace and Quinn exchanged looks.

  “Tavish, I need ya and Innis to check on the taverns. Make sure the Scots are goin’ fer more fighters and not drinkin’ their day away. We need to be in and out before noon.”

  When they were gone, Grace stood next to Quinn, her hands clasped behind her back.

  “You sent them away so we could talk.”

  Grace nodded once. It was several more minutes before she spoke. “What is goin’ on in yer mind, Callaghan?”

  “My mind, sir?”

  “Ya know what I’m askin’ ya. Yer heart is heavy––”

  “So is yours.”

  “Aye. I suppose that is how I know.” Grace turned to her. “I thought killin’ Hugh’s murderers would make me feel somewhat better. That blood fer blood would ease some of my pain. It has not. What I would not give fer one more hour with him, one more kiss, one more night in his arms. Blood did not bring him back or give me that time.”

  “Your heart is broken.”

  Long pause. “Aye.”

  Quinn wanted to comfort her, to put her arms around her and hug her, but she couldn’t. Not here. Maybe not anywhere.

  “Callaghan, we live in a violent world. Hell, we are violence incarnate. Our loved ones have us on borrowed time... or vice versa. It is not a place most women would ever choose to be.”

  “Captain, is there something you’re trying to say to me?”

  Grace set her hands on Quinn’s shoulders. “I don’t know what all ya have left with Fiona, but she’s a married woman with a child now. She has a husband with a great deal of influence and money. She needs to keep that man happy, and he needs to keep her safe. It’s high time ya loved someone who can love ya back. I’m thinkin’ it might be that wee little glaigh.”

  “Sir?”

  “The men do not see it, but I do. It is clear ya have feelins fer her.” Grace held her hand up. “I have not survived this long on the open sea without havin’ open eyes. I know ya, Callaghan. I know that ya have feelins fer the whelp.” Grace lowered her hand. “And I apologize fer puttin’ ya in this position, Callaghan, but we cannot move freely about Scotland unless there is some important reason to do so. The Scots believe this to be true. We’ve not run into one issue since the engagement was announced.”

  “Well, here I am. Am I to pretend marry Young Mary in Jedburgh? Is that your plan, or do we just allow the story to float out there, giving us a reason to be in Scotland?”

  Grace nodded. “If I coulda done it differently, Callaghan, dontcha think I would have? There will be no marriage, pretend or otherwise. We just needed a story to keep people at bay. I thought ya knew that.”

  Quinn shrugged “It does not matter anymore, Captain. It’s over with Fiona.”

  Grace adjusted her sword belt. “I’m sorry to hear that, I truly am, but it is fer the best. She is not of our kind, nor are we hers. Ya had a good time and were loved well, but a baby changes everrathin’. So what about Becca? That woman loves ya somethin’ fierce.”

  Quinn cocked her head. “Captain?”

  “Look, Callaghan, I’m not afraid to admit it. I...” Grace looked away for a moment, then turned back. “I don’t want to lose ya to the land, to a broken heart, to––”

  “Lose me? Why on earth do you think––” Quinn stopped in mid-sentence, with the realization of what was really going on here. “You blame yourself for Fiona leaving me.”

  “Ya’ve been distant. Quiet. I can tell somethin’ has crept into yer heart. Some
thin’ big. Somethin’ that has taken the sting out of yer pain from Fiona. I am glad of it. Really.”

  Quinn stared straight ahead as the truth pushed its way past her guarded heart and out of her mouth. “I think I do have feelings for Evan, sir. You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.” Grace chuckled.

  “She’s like me. No one else knows but us, Captain.”

  “Does she return yer––”

  “She doesn’t know that I know, but yes, Lake believes she might return my affection.”

  “Ah. That’s a problem. Well, one problem. She is a laoch ciudich. That’s the other. She won’t leave Lake or their clan. What is wrong with ya, Callaghan, that ya can’t find a good Irish woman who is attainable?”

  Quinn raised her eyebrows.

  “Besides the obvious, I mean. Ya keep fallin’ fer women ya can’t have. Ya do realize that, right?”

  Quinn frowned. “In case you haven’t noticed, Captain, nearly every woman alive falls into that category in my life.”

  “I suppose yer right. Fiona and Becca both know the truth and love ya nonetheless. Though, truth to tell, if a man had fooled me on such a scale, I’d have run him through just fer playin’ with my heart. So what are ya goin’ to do?”

  Shrugging, Quinn started back for the Breeze. “There’s nothing to do, Captain. Like you said, she’s a woman I can’t have. I’ll have to learn to live with that. Again.” Trudging up the plank to the Breeze, Quinn checked on the riggings and spoke to a few of her crew before opening the door to her quarters.

  Evan was not in the bed.

  “Figures,” Quinn muttered, closing the door. “I can’t seem to keep a woman in––”

  From behind the door, Evan threw her arms around Quinn’s shoulders, pinning her to the door, her full lips silencing Quinn’s surprise or objection.

  The kiss started out with passion and continued with it even as Evan pulled Quinn back to the bed. They kissed and kissed, giving and receiving tongues, biting lower lips and consuming each other’s mouths with a fire that stunned Quinn. When their lips finally disengaged, Quinn tried pulling away, but Evan’s grip was solid. There would be no escaping this woman. Not this time.