Within a Captain's Hold

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Within a Captain's Hold Page 14

by Lisa A. Olech


  The rancid smell of burning flesh filled the galley. Searing pain brought Jaxon to consciousness. His scream pierced the air. Robbins and Quinn held him down as his body tried to buck away from the pain.

  Blessed darkness claimed him yet again, and Cookie quickly stitched his side closed.

  “We should move him to his cabin.” Quinn wiped the blood from his hands.

  The galley was full of men. Injured needing care, and six dead crewmen awaited their final stitch and watery end.

  Cookie nodded. Jaxon lay quiet. His wounds were tended and bound, but he didn’t like the look of him. The night was far from over. Cookie took another swallow of rum. Jaxon was as close to kin as he had. He’d never seen the man sick, let alone so near death. It would be a long night indeed, but if he made it through, there was a good chance he would recover.

  Jaxon was young and strong. He had that in his favor, and maybe he had a bit more to live for these days. Annalise. In the commotion, Cookie had forgotten about her.

  Quinn called over two men to help carry their wounded captain below. Cookie jerked, “Wait. Wait. Let him lay here a bit. I’ll see his quarters be ready.”

  “Ready?” Quinn threw up a hand. “Ready for what?”

  “Ye want to be draggin’ him in there in the dark? Ye clouts trip over a trunk and drop ’im, it’ll be his death, I tell ye.”

  Robbins stepped up next to Cookie. “I’ll see to it.”

  Cookie turned and took in the serious look on young Robbins’ face. An unspoken truce formed between the two.

  “Good man.” Cookie slapped the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t dally. We be right behind ye.”

  * * * *

  Men soon carried Jaxon to his bed. Cookie moved them out, but it took longer for him to convince Quinn. He tried to steer him toward the door. “I don’t dare leave him. Ye best be givin’ them a hand with the rest of the wounded.”

  “With the captain down, I guess that puts me in charge, for now.”

  “That’s right. Just get us to port.”

  Quinn skirted Cookie and paced a bit. “With a juried mast and half sail, the best course of action is to reach Port Royal as quick as possible. Given the ship’s damage and load, we’re fortunate port is close. I figure we’re more than two or maybe three days away at this speed. Had we been farther out, we might not have made it. We can’t afford another skirmish.”

  He retrieved the ship’s log from Jaxon’s desk. “I’ll need to make the proper entries and reports.” He scooped up the ship’s charts as well. “I’ll see to the wounded, then the logs, and then I’ll study the navigation charts. Maybe there’s a sheltered cove where we can anchor and make repairs. I may find a faster route.”

  “Knew ye’d be on top of things, Quinn.”

  “Yes. Yes. I’ll be back after I’ve set things to right.” Quinn left, his arms brimming with his new tasks.

  Cookie turned to Robbins. “The man won’t sleep ’til he’s charted eight different routes and written a damn novel in them logbooks.”

  He threw the latch and locked the door. “’Tis clear, lass.”

  Annalise slipped out of her hiding spot not three feet from where Quinn just stood.

  “I’d ne’er known you was there. Good lass.”

  Not acknowledging his praise at her hiding abilities, she rushed past them to get to Jaxon. He was an awful gray color. In the moving of him, his wounds had begun to weep and bright stains of red spread across his bindings.

  “Oh, Jaxon,” she whispered. She turned tear-filled eyes to Cookie. “What happened?”

  “Bonchette got a shot on ‘im. I pulled the lead from his side and stitched him up.”

  She reached out a trembling hand and came within a hairbreadth of his bindings. She drew a shaky breath. “Please tell me he’ll be all right.”

  “If there’s any say in me, he will. But he’s lost a lot’o blood. It’s gonna be a close one. All we can be doin’ now is the waitin’.”

  Annalise knelt next to the bed and laid her head upon his chest. She held his hand and wet his chest with her tears.

  “I’ll be headin’ topside to lend a hand.” Robbins said to no one in particular.

  Cookie stopped him. “Robbins, hold on. I don’t care about me, lad, but I have to ask ye--Am I prayin’ the captain’ll survive only to have ye turn him and that fine woman over to the crew?”

  Annalise raised her head and looked at the boy.

  He was shifting his glance from Cookie to Jaxon and back to her. He held her gaze a long moment before he shook his head.

  “’Afore this day, I looked at Capt’n Steele as some kind of hero. Capt’n who fought and scraped and led us through the worst kind of battles and storms. Like he was unbeatable. But he ain’t. He just be a man like the rest.

  “But he showed me some today. Showed me part of him I ain’t ne’er seen afore. He was willin’ to risk it all to protect ye, Mistress Steele. Showed me there ain’t no weakness in that. He may be just a man, but he be the man I want te be.

  “I got me duty, and I know where me loyalty lies. I won’t be seein’ the captain come to more harm.”

  Relief washed over Cookie.

  Annalise swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “Yer more of a man than ye know. Surely more than I gave ye credit.” Cookie puffed. “I’m mighty sorry I put ye through that spirit nonsense.”

  “Try it again, and ye’ll be gettin’ more than me fist in yer face.”

  Cookie rubbed his jaw. “One belt from yer ham hock was enough.”

  Annalise rose and laid a tender kiss on the boy’s cheek. “I’ll never forget your kindness, Mr. Robbins.”

  Color flooded Robbins’ face before he gave a quick nod, and left.

  Annalise knelt next to the bed again and lifted Jaxon’s hand to lay a kiss upon the palm. She pulled a shuddered breath and looked to Cookie. Her gaze locked with his.

  “Now we be waitin’, lass.”

  * * * *

  As the sky began to lighten, Cookie rose and stretched his back. His captain still lay unconscious, but alive. There was somethin’ to be said for that.

  The first night had been hell. Jaxon’s fever spiked and he’d torn through the stitches in his side as he thrashed against the pain and infection raging within.

  Annalise only left his side when Quinn’s arrival forced her to hide. Otherwise, she bathed his scorching skin, lay with him to keep his body still, and stayed awake through two nights and a full day stroking his chest and holding his hand.

  Cookie wondered if the capt’n knew how much his wife loved him. She had fallen into an exhausted sleep in his chair only after Jaxon’s fever broke a few hours ago. Cookie covered them both. “Well, Son, it looks like ye’ll live to see another day.”

  He went back to looking at the brightening sky and sent a quick thanks to the man upstairs. Not that he was a praying man, mind you. He figured God had better things to do than keep watch over the likes of him, but he couldn’t have lived this long and not seen a thing or two without believing there wasn’t somethin’ up there.

  The day he lost his leg, he believed he was a goner for sure. It was Jaxon told him otherwise. The boy held him down, or tried to, while that bastard surgeon did his work. Cookie felt bad for blackening Jaxon’s eye, but he’d paid for it in the end. Two fingers worth.

  But the boy stuck by him. Even when he asked him to put him out of his misery and shoot him.

  “I’m not about to waste good pistol shot on you. When we get to port, I’ll get you a fine peg and you can stop complaining long enough to learn how to be a proper cook. Or you can always strap yourself to the bowsprit and be the ugliest maidenhead on the seas.”

  No, Jaxon never left him any room for pity. He’d dragged him back into life. Gave him a purpose. He’d saved him. Cookie’d never forget all Jaxon did for him. It went beyond being his captain. Jaxon became kin. A friend. A son.
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br />   Cookie sniffled. Dammit all. This was no time to be getting misty. He looked back at the man in the bunk. Jaxon hadn’t moved. Not an inch. Annalise was curled into Jaxon’s chair. Poor lass had worn herself to nothin’. She was a good woman. A real beauty, too. She made him miss his own woman somethin’ fierce.

  The Scarlet Night was getting close to land. Any time now. Cookie could smell it. The air changed when the wind touched land before it hit the sea. It never failed. Every voyage’s end brought a cravin’ to Cookie’s soul to settle into the ample bosom of his Sarah and stay there forever. How many more battles did he have in him anyway? He’d seen it all, done it all. Mayhap it was time to hang up his cutlass and drink his rum laying in the sand with a fine woman wrapped around him. He had enough gold to finish his days, and then some.

  ’Course every time his mind got to thinking of leaving the Scarlet, his sea leg would start to twitchin’ and he’d be the first one up the gangway. Could be it was true what they said about old dogs. They’d chase their tails ’til they screwed themselves straight into the ground.

  Cookie ran a hand over his eyes and scrubbed at his face. He was tired. This woolgathering made him crave his bed more than any sand, rum, or--

  A low moan had him turning about.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Annalise…” Jaxon tried to rise but the shaft of pain that bore through him drove the air from his lungs.

  “I wouldn’t be tryin’ that yet, ye damn fool. Lay quiet.” Cookie put a strong hand on his shoulder and held him to the bed.

  Jaxon grabbed the man’s arm. “Cookie?”

  “Was ye expectin’ the king?”

  “Where… Where’s Annalise?”

  “She’s asleep in yer chair. Ye’ve put the lass through hell and back. She’s been camped by ye since we dragged yer sorry arse in here near two days ago.”

  Two days? Jaxon could barely keep his eyes open. He struggled against the lure of sleep. “I guess you saved my sorry soul.”

  “Let’s just say, we be even.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  Cookie brought him a cup and helped him drink a few swallows of weak ale. “Bonchette did ye dirty, was gonna shoot ye in the back, but ye turned in time to catch it in yer side. Dug the shot out and stitched ye up. Quinn did the mendin’ on yer shoulder there, so if the scar be ragged, ye be knowin’ who’s to blame.”

  “Aye, now I remember. My own deck came up to knock my thick head.”

  “Yep, went down like a sack of stones. Least ye did right and made it back to the Scarlet after ye shouted orders to scuttle the Sea Dragon.”

  Jaxon fought the pull of sleep again. “How are the rest? What condition are we in?”

  “We be down to a jury mast, movin’ fair at half speed. Some damage top side, but we be high and dry below. We lost six of ours. Eleven more wounded, but none of them worse as you.”

  “Six. Who?”

  “Bishop, Preston, Willaby, Jacobs, Brisbee, and young Cotter.”

  Jaxon shook his head. Cotter was just a wee lad. “Did you see to them proper?”

  “’Course.” Cookie returned the cup to its place.

  “Good.”

  “Jaxon?” Anna threw back the blanket and rushed to his side.

  “Annalise.”

  “You’re awake.” She lifted his hand and kissed it. “Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “And you’re alive.”

  “Of course, I’m alive.” He attempted to reach for her, but his wounds stopped him. “Dammit.” He ground his teeth against the searing pain.

  She helped ease him back. “No, you must be still.”

  Jaxon could feel the sweat breaking out on his face and chest. “Good advice.”

  Annalise left his side to bring him brandy. “Here, drink this. It will ease some of your pain.” She held the cup to his lips, easing the liquid into his mouth. “Cookie only had two doses of laudanum. I wish we had more.”

  He sighed as the brandy lit a path into his belly, closing his eyes as the warmth spread through him. When he opened them again, Cookie stood behind Annalise.

  “Where’s Robbins?”

  Cookie turned to the desk and picked up the pistol Jaxon had given Robbins before the battle. “Told me to give this back to ye. Said no more trouble was comin’ yer way. Least not from him.” Cookie returned the small gun to its place in the desk. “Boy’s earned his stripes this sail.”

  “That, he has.” Jaxon drank more brandy. The sharp edge of pain was easing, but he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. “Go. See to things above. Tell the crew not to spend my share just yet.”

  “Aye, Capt’n, I ken be back soon, but I be leavin’ ye in good hands.” To Annalise he said, “Git some more brandy in ’im. If Quinn’s with me when I return, I’ll knock only twice and give ye time to hide yerself away. He be out of the woods, me thinks.”

  Annalise poured more brandy. “Thank you, Cookie.”

  “No thankin’ me, lass. His livin’ has as much te do with ye as wit the likes of me.”

  When Cookie left, Annalise came and knelt beside the bed. She tried to get him to take more brandy, but he refused.

  “It will help, Jaxon.”

  “It’s muddlin’ my brain.”

  She laid a gentle hand upon his cheek. Pale smudges beneath her eyes told him how little sleep she’d had these past days. He hated the worry and fear he saw in her eyes.

  “It will help you rest,” she whispered.

  “Lie with me.”

  “Jaxon.” She shook her head.

  “Annalise, come here.” With his good arm, he tugged at her elbow until she set the glass aside and acquiesced.

  Moving with great care, she stretched out along his side. The warmth and feel of her soft body caused a sigh to escape him.

  After covering them both, she settled into the crook of his shoulder and laid a hand upon his chest. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

  Jaxon turned and laid a kiss onto the softness of her hair.

  “When they brought you here, you were so pale and still. I feared I’d never have the chance to tell you how I’ve come to love you.”

  His heart surged, and a warm rush filled his limbs. “You love me?”

  She nodded against his shoulder. “I do. More every moment.”

  “Say it.”

  Annalise raised up and gazed at him. Golden eyes told him how she felt before her lips caressed the words. “I love you, Jaxon.”

  “No one has ever said those words to me.” His voice cracked.

  “Never?”

  He shook his head.

  Anna ran a hand across the scratch of his unshaven jaw and traced his lip before dipping her head and laying a feathered kiss upon his mouth. “Then I shall have to say it often, won’t I?”

  She lay back down and he could once again hold her close to him. The perfect warmth of her body next to his combined with the brandy and his own body’s need for sleep was making it near impossible to keep his eyes open. I love you, too. He wanted to whisper it in her ear. Too much brandy made him want to shout it from the crow’s next. I love you, Annalise. He loved her more than anyone or anything else in this world, but he ground his teeth against the words.

  He wouldn’t say it. Couldn’t let himself dream of a future with her. The dull ache of his wounds reminding him why. This was no life. Not for her. Never for her.

  He’d steal this sliver of time. Hold her captive only for him. Ravish her when his body was able. Hoard her love. Fill his heart and mind with her for as long as he could before he had to let her go. I love you. His mind repeated those three impossible words until sleep pulled him away.

  Over the next twenty-four hours, both Annalise and Cookie poured a great deal of brandy down Jaxon’s throat, as well as making an equal number of threats to
keep him in bed. He was determined to push past the pain and weakness. Cookie raved at him. “Ye’ve been shot, ye great stubborn ox. None will speak against ye if ye just let Quinn do the job.”

  Annalise showed him patience and gentleness through the worst of it. Last night she’d fallen asleep in his chair. With her feet tucked beneath her, she curled up like a child, her beautiful face surrounded by a riot of brilliant hair.

  He loved her more and more with each passing hour, yet each minute forged his determination to protect her from the brutality and ugliness of this world. Thoughts of a life without her, however, burned a dark hole through him more painful than the shot Cookie’d dug out of his side.

  The Scarlet Night was limping closer to port. There was much to do. Details to see to regarding docking and unloading, but his top priority was seeing Annalise away from the ship without discovery. They made it this far with only Robbins discovering her. Jaxon hoped their luck would hold.

  He rose with great care. If he held tight to his wound and moved slowly, perhaps he could be rid of this bed. He swung his legs over the side and stopped to rest. His head was light from days on his back, but the pain in his side had lost some of its sharp, fiery edge.

  Feet on the floor, Jaxon used the edge of the alcove to pull himself to standing. His head swam and his legs threatened to abandon him, but he held on. Sweat trickled down his neck. Hold on there. I can do this. Slow and easy.

  He’d get himself dressed and, if his legs held, give himself a shave. Easy. Three full strides to the desk, two more to gather his clothing. His side throbbed, but taking deep breaths was starting to clear his head.

  He made it to the desk and the cupboard. Pulling open the drawer made him groan in frustration. Pain flashed anew.

  “Jaxon? What are you trying to do?” Annalise was next to him in an instant. “Why are you out of bed?”

  “Open this for me. Please. I’m trying to gather my things.” His head swam.

  She slipped under his arm, supporting him. “You need to be in bed.”

  “No. I must…” His legs began to mutiny. “Let me sit.”

 

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