Blacksouls (Blackhearts #2)

“I hope the governor will truly send help,” Anne said, getting the feeling that Beth did not care much for the governor.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s an English ship and Nassau is an English settlement.” Cara struggled out of her dress. “Although I don’t know how people can live here in this heat,” she muttered. “I wish my da would have accepted the money Uncle Alastair offered him. But he was too proud to take it. Men and their silly pride.”

Anne walked to the window. She knew how much Cara missed her mother. They were the unfortunate victims of a rift between Alastair and Cara’s father. Family was important to Cara, and she hoped to earn enough money to send back to her parents. If her father wouldn’t accept assistance from Alastair, Cara hoped he’d accept it from his own daughter. Cara’s greatest wish was to be reunited with her family. Anne wanted to help, which was why she needed to send word to her father’s solicitor immediately to get him to send the other half of her inheritance—if Richard Drummond would still honor his word and send her the rest.

Cara lay down on the bed, dressed only in her shift. “We’ll do what we can to help you, Anne. We’re your family now. Try to get some rest. When we both wake up, maybe we’ll feel better.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Anne tried to relax. Cara was right. They were her family now. Although they weren’t blood-related, they’d treated her better than most people she’d ever known. She and Cara had slept side by side for weeks, sharing secrets and wishes in the dark, falling asleep exhausted, knowing that Coyle guarded their door. Anne knew about Cara’s desire to get married and settle down and Coyle’s hopes to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and own a tavern of his own one day. And both of the Flynns knew about Teach. Anne wished for the millionth time that Teach could meet them. He’d warm to their kindness, humor, and humility.

Anne leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees to ease the tension settling between her shoulder blades. The exhaustion weighed on her, tightening muscles, making her fingers tremble, and drying her eyes. She could not free herself from the tumultuous thoughts haunting her mind. Every time she pictured Teach, pain unfolded in her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. She’d give anything to see those green eyes once more.

Cara’s soft snores lingered in the room. She had an enviable knack for falling asleep easily, even during squalls aboard the Providence.

But Anne always struggled.

Determined to rest, she lay down on her side. She squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach gripped in a vice of fear. Her mother had often told her if one lost courage and hope, one lost everything. The desperate strength of her hope was her one link with Teach. As long as she clung to her courage, all was not lost.

Anne stared at the wall in front of her, until her lids slowly lowered. In the distance a dog barked. Someone shouted. A shot rang out.

Anne’s eyes flew open. Nassau wasn’t safe.

But please, she prayed. Let Teach be.





CHAPTER 6





Teach


“We lost young Daniel during the night,” John said, approaching Teach at the helm. Gray clouds hung heavy in the sky as the Deliverance limped toward the Bahamas.

John and Teach took turns guiding the ship and did their best to ensure the injured men were as comfortable as possible despite their circumstances. They’d lost the ship’s surgeon during the battle, as well as their medicine chest.

The weary and sweat-soaked crew was somber, though the mood aboard had more to do with the heavy burden of lost comrades than it did the weather. Those injured during the battle littered the weather deck. Every once in a while, a painful groan rose up to the heavens. Bloodied bandages covered opened wounds, and the air was hot and smelled of death and rotting flesh.

Teach frowned as he altered their course a point and a half to the south. Daniel had been one of the livelier crew members and had had a penchant for jokes. “If we don’t make port soon, I fear we won’t have anyone left.” The supplies on the Deliverance were alarmingly low. One of the cannonballs had pierced the side of the ship, destroying valuable barrels of water for cooking and brandy for drinking, as well as their supply of salted beef.

John’s eyes searched the horizon. “We can’t be that far off. It shouldn’t take us more than a few days to get there.”

Drawing a deep breath, Teach nodded. It had already been three days since the attack, but to him it felt like twice that amount. “So long as we don’t encounter any storms . . .” His voice trailed off. They both knew the unpredictability of the seas.

“We could always stop at one of the first islands we see. There are enough trees to repair the damage, an’ fresh water shouldn’t be too difficult to find.”

“We can’t do that with the injured,” Teach said. “They need more help than any of us can provide and that help can only be found in Nassau. Any delay could cost more men their lives.” Teach had given their options serious thought. If there weren’t any wounded, he would be tempted to repair the ship and try to sell off what cargo they still had to the highest bidder. He could buy a smaller vessel to continue his search for Anne. But that was too risky and too many things could go wrong. The Providence was bound for Nassau, and Teach needed to get there as quickly as possible.

“You should get some rest. I can take over for now,” John offered.

“I think I’ll have another go at the chest,” Teach said. He still hadn’t found Anne’s chest of coins and wondered where Captain Murrell could have hidden it.

“Have you asked Peter? I reckon he’d have an idea of where it is.”

“Peter hasn’t spoken since the attack.”

“Should we beat a call to quarters? That would draw him out an’ the coward couldn’t hide.”

Teach shook his head, reaching automatically for the leather cords around his neck. Captain Murrell had been fond of the practice of beating the drums and causing the men to scurry and gather on deck. He’d said it was to practice in the event of an attack, but a lot of good that had done him. The minute those ships had appeared, Murrell had practically wet himself. “No, there’s no need. Let the men rest. I’ll find Peter and ask him myself.”

“Do you think he’ll cause trouble for us when we get to Nassau?”

Teach had wondered the same thing. “It will be his word against ours. If he does charge me with mutiny, it will be on him to provide enough evidence to support his claim.”

John scoffed. “He’ll get no support from me or the crew. Don’t you worry none, Teach. We’ll get through this. And we’ll find Anne as well. Things will work out. Mark my words.”

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