Passion's Tide

by Sarah West

  Logan stood back and observed Amber. Her face was lit up with what he could only describe as childlike amusement, her hair glowing as it reflected the flames, a wide smile on her face as she leaned over the railing. He was bewildered.

  Shaking his head, he ordered his men to haul anchor. He manned the helm himself to keep his eye on his peculiar passenger. While the other pirates grew bored and wandered off, Amber remained on deck and watched the burning ship slip farther and farther away into the distance.

  When the Queen Charlotte was barely a speck on the horizon she looked up, back again at the ship, and then picked up her skirts and stomped over to Logan.

  “We’re traveling south.”

  Logan shot her an amused glance. “Aye.”

  “Why are we going south?” She made a pretty picture, her hands balled into fists at her waist, an accusatory scowl pursing her lips into a pout.

  He had the strangest urge to run his callused finger over her bottom lip, see if it felt as soft as it looked. He shook it off. “We are going south, Lady Townsend, because that is the direction in which the ship is pointed.”

  Amber felt like screaming, but instead bottled her rage and spoke, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and exasperation. “Do you think me a fool, Captain Tigre?”

  “Logan.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My name isn’t really el Tigre. It’s Logan Jeffries. Or just Captain,” he added with a grin.

  “Fine,” she said. “Do you think I’m a fool, Mr. Jeffries?”

  “I haven’t yet decided,” he told her as he leaned against the wheel, the smile never leaving his lips.

  Her eyes were fierce as they locked in on his. “Let me assure you that I am not. You are sailing in the wrong direction.”

  Logan couldn’t help himself. He snorted. “And why would that be?”

  “England is Northeast from our current location, not South.”

  He responded by lifting an eyebrow, a gesture she was all too quickly coming to loathe. “And who said we were going to Europe?”

  Amber opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Well, I just assumed…”

  “You assumed wrong.”

  “Oh.” The word was barely a whisper as it slipped from her parted lips. Logan turned his back to her, thinking that the conversation was over.

  Apparently she thought otherwise, moving around the steering column so that she was blocking his view.

  “I need to get to England.”

  He shrugged. “Not my problem, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t think you understand!” Her voice rose in pitch as she struggled to keep her panic in check.

  “I’m not turning the ship around, if that’s what you’re asking. Maybe, if you’re good,” his eyes sparkled as they traveled the full length of her body suggestively, “I might set you ashore in Tortuga.”

  She gasped. “Tortuga?”

  “Then again, I might be tempted to keep you for myself.”

  Amber shot him an icy glare. “Not if you were the last man alive.” Then she turned and stormed down the stairs, passing a very surprised quartermaster on her way. Logan waited for the sound of the door slamming before turning to Elijah.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?” Elijah’s hazel eyes were warm, his nose slightly crooked after being broken in a bar fight years ago, his long brown hair pulled back from his face and held at the nape of his neck with a piece of string. Logan smiled as he remembered the fight in which he had broken Eli’s nose, the moment that had cemented them as friends.

  “A simple misunderstanding, Eli. The lady thought she had the authority to tell me to turn my own ship around.”

  His friend laughed. “She does seem to have a mouth on her, from what I’ve witnessed. What are you planning on doing with her?”

  “I’m not going to bed the girl, if that’s what you’re implying.” Logan grimaced, having harbored that very idea once or twice himself.

  “And yet she’s staying in your quarters.”

  “Would you rather have her sleep in the orlop, surrounded by men with less than honorable intentions, who travel long distances at sea without seeing a woman for months?

  “They are trustworthy enough to crew your ship,” Eli pointed out.

  “Aye, I would put my life in the hands of these men, no question. Never have I seen a more loyal crew. Doesn’t mean I trust them with an attractive young woman.”

  “The question is, Logan,” his friend said, in all seriousness. “Can you trust yourself around her?”

  It was early evening when Logan abandoned his post at the helm. In the sky, the sun was slowly sinking, casting an enchanted light across the calm surface of the water. It was his favorite time of day.

  After passing the wheel off to Jean he walked the length of his ship, checking on his men and stopping to make idle conversation with the newcomers, hoping to set them more at ease. For the most part, they had taken on the lives of pirates with no opposition, and Logan was pleased to see that. He then headed below to visit Abe, who was limping around the galley as if he had always worked there, making the evening meal with the help of Johnny and Henry. Henry too, seemed to be comfortable in his new surroundings.

  Logan spent half an hour in the hold with Eli and Deacon, making an inventory of the cargo they had taken from the other ship, then another fifteen minutes at the feverish side of William, a sailor who had received a terrible blow to the side of his head when the mizzen mast of the Queen Charlotte toppled, and another nasty cut on his leg from a cutlass. The wound on his thigh looked to be infected, and the poor man was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  Not wanting to witness Piers pouring alcohol into the open gash, he left the doctor to do his work and with reluctance headed for the stairs that would lead him to his quarters, where a lovely, and most likely furious, woman waited for him.

  The sight that met him when he opened the door made him struggle not to smile, however. Amber glanced up from the book she was reading. Perched on a chair at the large table, she threw him an indiscernible look. She had obviously been working hard for a good part of the afternoon. She had pushed all three of her trunks into the back corner, boxing off a section of the room that was as far away from his bed as possible. No doubt she had then rummaged through his own drawers and chests, because she had located a bunch of blankets that, with the help of some ribbon, now hung suspended from the ceiling.

  The result was a closed off partition, in which he assumed she planned to sleep.

  “Do you like it?” At the sound of her voice he turned to her, surprised to see her luscious mouth curved in a sweet smile. “I took the liberty of borrowing a few of your blankets, I hope you don’t mind.”

  “It’s very creative, no doubt about that,” he admitted, scratching his chin. She beamed. “And solves the question of privacy. I can only foresee one small problem with it.”

  “What would that be?”

  “That’s where the tub goes.”

  “Tub?” she repeated.

  “Aye, my bathtub. Despite what you might have read, not all pirates are disgusting, vile creatures who never bathe. Besides,” he added as he walked over and pulled down a blanket, “I’ve already decided to give you the bed.”

  Much to his chagrin, she looked surprised. “Why would you do that?”

  He sighed. “I’m not a terrible man, Amber. Do you think I enjoy taking women prisoner on my own ship?” He noticed her shrug and continued. “Because I don’t. I regret having to put you in this situation, I really do. But believe me, your chances are much greater with me than on a corrupt merchant ship.” He finished untying the last blanket and threw it onto the bed, then sheepishly handed her the ribbon.

  She snatched it from his fingers without a word of thanks.

  “What were you doing on that ship, anyway?” She turned back to her book, pointedly ignoring him. Logan forced himself to breathe as he tried to unclench his j
aw. His attempt to be civil was failing.

  Realizing he was being as childish as she was, he plopped himself into a chair across from her and picked up the bottle of rum, watching her as he poured a liberal amount down his throat. Their eyes met as she peered over the top of her book, but she dropped her gaze with a frown.

  Amber struggled to read, but her mind couldn’t focus with Logan so near. His intense staring wasn’t helping matters much either. Though she couldn’t see him, she could still feel his eyes upon her. Finally she closed the book and set it on the table.

  “Can I help you with something, Logan?”

  “Nope.” She watched as he kicked off his boots and began to pick at his fingernails with a short blade that he produced from his belt.

  “Is there a particular reason you are trying to annoy me?”

  “Nope.” She threw up her hands in exasperation just as the door opened and Eli entered.

  The quartermaster stared at the scene in front of him, Amber looking furious as Logan absentmindedly dug under his nails with a knife. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Abe is just about finished with supper. Should I gather the men?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. Please extend an invitation to Noah and Jackson as well.” Eli left and Logan shoved the knife back into his belt, turning to Amber.

  “You hungry?”

  “Yes,” she answered, her stomach growling to remind her she hadn’t eaten anything that day besides an apple at breakfast.

  “Help me clear the table, then.” Amber said nothing in return but picked up her book and began rolling up the maps, moving them to the dresser along the wall. She was about to move the bottle of rum when Logan stopped her. “Might as well leave that.”

  Piers was the first to enter, taking a seat across from Amber after the introductions were made. Then came the formidable man she remembered from that morning as the one who had grabbed her. He apologized now, even giving her an awkward bow as he sat down next to her. Jackson, Logan had called him.

  Noah appeared in the doorway next, hesitating before coming in. His eyes located Amber and he gave her a warm smile.

  “Miss Amber, I take it you are being treated well?”

  “As well as one can expect, thank you.” He nodded and seated himself next to Piers. Finally Elijah returned with Johnny and Henry behind him, carrying the evening’s meal. Another man followed and set the table with plates and silverware, placing a tin mug in front of each setting.

  Logan sat at the head of the table and motioned for Eli to sit across from him at the opposite end, then began serving himself. The others followed his suit, filling their plates with fish, meat, fruit and bread. Amber decided manners would be wasted on such a group and grabbed a turkey leg, moaning as she tore off a section with her teeth, ignoring the juice running down her chin.

  Dropping it to her plate she reached across the table for the bread and ripped off a hunk, bringing it straight to her mouth. She paused. Looking around, she realized that everyone was staring at her.

  She could feel the color creeping up her cheeks as she returned the bread to her plate and picked up her knife and fork, which, in her haste to eat, she had failed to notice the others using.

  “Would you like some rum, Amber?” Logan asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence. He held out the bottle to her.

  “I would prefer water, if that’s possible,” she replied, lifting her napkin to wipe the grease from her chin.

  “Of course.” He motioned to the man leaning against the wall, half hidden in the shadows. “Please bring Miss Amber some water. The freshest barrels are the ones we took from the Queen Charlotte, they should be next to the stairs.” With a curt nod, the man left.

  Logan turned to Eli. “I walked the length of the ship earlier, and it appears that everybody is adapting well enough.”

  “It didn’t take them long to discover the advantages pirating has over sailing. Our men seem especially pleased to have Noah with us,” Eli said, nodding his head towards the blond carpenter, who smiled into his mug.

  Jackson threw down his napkin with a flourish, startling Amber. “Daniel was a right foul ass, always slacking, never doing his fair share. He was always stealing from the galley, too. Bastard deserves to rot in—” He noticed Logan’s glare and cleared his throat, picking up his napkin and replacing it in his lap. “May God rest his soul.” Amber ducked her head to hide a smirk.

  “I will agree with you that Noah is a much more amiable substitute for Daniel,” said Logan before turning to Noah. “I only hope your carpentry skills are equal to his.”

  “They are better,” Eli assured. “He’s already cut a gun port for the new cannon we picked up from the Santa Anselma.”

  Logan looked impressed. “I’m glad to hear that.” At that moment someone knocked on the door and Logan bade him enter. “Thank you Andrew,” he said, as the man brought a silver pitcher filled with water to the table and filled Amber’s mug, then returned to his spot against the wall. Logan waited until Amber lifted the mug to her mouth and took a sip before continuing.

  “Now, tell me. Is the Captain of the Queen Charlotte on my ship, scrubbing the deck as we speak?”

  Elijah shook his head as he reached across the table to grab a bunch of grapes. “He died defending his ship.”

  “It’s a pity they felt the need to fight. We offered them the obvious choice.”

  Amber gaped at him. “Surely you must be joking!”

  He turned his steel eyes towards her. “You must recall us firing a warning shot before we even boarded. We always give the other ship the opportunity to surrender, in which case we need not even draw our weapons. Your Captain,” he said, “refused to surrender. That is the reason for his death.”

  “Well, if you are under the impression that every captain will stand by and watch a bunch of pirates loot and raid his ship, I think you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “I never mentioned being under such a delusion, Miss Amber. And do not think for a second that just because we offer the other ships an opportunity to yield, that we are not capable of fighting if they choose not too.” His gaze narrowed. “All of my men are trained in cutlass and pistol alike, and would not have boarded your ship were they unable to defend themselves. I do not put the lives of my men so willingly into other people’s hands.”

  Amber was silent, staring at the bones on her plate and moving them around with her fork. Logan turned to Eli again. “What about the first mate?”

  “Lyle is swabbing the forecastle deck right now. Out of all the sailors who joined us today, he is the only one I remain wary of.”

  “What can you tell us of him, Noah?” Logan asked.

  “Well, he’s a surly man, very strict. When the Captain wasn’t around he would threaten us with lashings if we dared disobey him, and he always made us do tasks over. No matter how many times you would scrub the same section, he would always walk over it and demand you do it again.”

  “Would the other members of your crew verify that?”

  “Aye, Captain, I believe they would. Not one of us liked Lyle.”

  Logan leaned back in his chair. “Very well. After dinner, Eli, I would like you to gather all of the sailors from the Queen Charlotte on the main, where we will let them decide the fate of their first mate.”

  The rest of the supper passed quickly, and when it was over, Andrew, Johnny, and Henry cleared the table as the men left. Amber settled down on the large bed, and Logan pulled out a map and spread it out on the empty table. She tried again to read, but something kept bothering her.

  “Logan?”

  He never took his eyes off the map. “Hm?”

  “What did you mean, when you said that the sailors would decide the fate of Lyle?”

  He set his compass down and looked at her. “It means that they will have the power to decide what becomes of him, whether he remains on the ship or not.”

  She hoisted herself farther onto the bed, crossing her legs in front of he
r. “How do they decide?”

  “By voting, of course.” He smiled. “You look surprised. Did you think that pirate ships were run like the British navy? Or even as merchant ships? Men have more power as a pirate than they ever would as a sailor. Why else do you think so many sailors turn to pirating?”

  “I naturally assumed it was for the money,” she told him with a shrug. “Forgive me for thinking that pirates couldn’t be anything but greedy, selfish, blood-thirsty rogues.”

  His smirk widened, and Amber was again struck by how attractive he was. “You’re forgiven. But now we must go outside, for I wouldn’t want you to miss your first ever pirate court.” He got to his feet and motioned towards the door.

  “You mentioned that the crew can decide if he stays on the ship or not.” Amber stood. “In this case, what signifies the ‘or not?’”

  He stared at her calmly. “If the crew members of the Queen Charlotte so choose, he will be marooned on a deserted island with a single pistol.”

  Chapter Six

  The stars glittered ominously as Amber passed through the doorway and walked down the stairs to the main deck, all too aware of Logan’s hand on the small of her back. At the bottom, she saw Lyle standing against the longboat with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face. Every so often his eyes would dart to the two men who stood on either side of him, hands resting on the butts of their pistols. The sixteen other sailors who had joined the pirate crew stood along the railing, waiting for their Captain.

  Logan instructed Amber to stand by Eli, and then took his place in front of his men. “You have been called here tonight to stand witness to the trial of your former first mate, Lyle. As an officer on the Queen Charlotte, he was in command of your destiny. I can only hope that he was a fair leader,” he said, turning to each of the sailors, “because now the tables have turned and his fate rests in your hands.