“I’ll see you later, John,” Anne said pointedly.
John left, slanting a grin at Teach before closing the door.
“What was that about?” Anne asked, gripping the table to keep her balance.
“It’s time for him to return to his duties. The entire crew will have to work through the night if we hope to weather this storm.”
“Did you have to be so short with him?”
Teach shrugged, reaching up to ease the cramp of tension at the back of his neck. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Anne held his gaze as she moved toward him. Placing a hand on his chest, she pulled his head down for a kiss. He dropped his hands to her waist, worried he’d undo the very stitches he’d made a fool of himself to keep intact. He had to remind himself that she was still injured, even though she wasn’t making it easy for him.
“There’s no reason for you to be jealous,” Anne whispered in between kisses.
“I’m not.”
He felt Anne smile against his lips. “Good. And there’s no reason for you to be worried about my stitches. I’ll be careful.”
The ship listed beneath their feet, pushing them closer together. This was not being careful. The storm. The crew. It was time for Teach to leave. Drawing back, he motioned to the hammock swinging behind her. With a sigh, Anne let him clasp her beneath the knees. She kept her back straight as he lifted and then lowered her into the hammock. The sides came up and instantly cocooned her within. Leaning over, he gave her another kiss on the lips. Every touch between them was like a stamp on his soul.
“Stay here.”
Anne shook her head at him. “I’ve been on a ship before, remember? And we weathered many a storm.”
Teach debated telling her about the extent of the approaching squall. He didn’t want to worry her needlessly, but she should be prepared. “Stay here unless I come for you.”
Some of his concern must have shown on his face, because her brows furrowed. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“We’ll get through it.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
? ? ?
By four bells, the men of the Triumph were soaking wet and exhausted. All hands were on deck and had been for the past hour. There was no sign of the storm lessening. Rain lashed at them like needles, and the drop in temperature caused their limbs to shake and their teeth to chatter.
The bare poles overhead swayed, their canvas tightly rolled to protect the sails from the wind. The occasional flash of lightning lit up the night sky, and the thunder in the distance bellowed its response.
“Teach!” Bent over at the waist and with his stance wide, John attempted to approach Teach, but the wind and lurching deck beneath his feet made it difficult. “We saw a light in the distance.”
Teach wiped the rain from his eyes. “It could have been lightning.”
“It was steady.”
Before Teach could answer, a wave rolled over the deck, sweeping his feet away. The deck slammed upward, smashing into his back. A pained grunt escaped his lungs, but he couldn’t hear it over the roar of the water in his ears.
“John!” he shouted, flailing for something, anything. But the sea was the master, dragging its wayward servant into its eternal prison.
One boot smashed into the railing, sending a bolt of pain clear up to his hip. It hurt like the devil’s hottest poker, but he scrabbled for a handhold. Suddenly he found it, a bit of wood. One hand stable, then the other.
“Teach!”
The voice came from Teach’s left, and he turned toward it, still blinded by the salty spray.
John gave a watery cough, and shouted for his friend once more.
Releasing his grip on the railing, Teach lunged toward the sound. For a moment, his surroundings receded, his entire attention focused on John. As Teach neared, the whites of John’s eyes were all Teach could see as John tried to find some purchase on the deck. The waves bashed relentlessly onto the sides of the Triumph. If any other men noticed or attempted to help, Teach couldn’t tell. Perhaps they were battling to save their own lives.
Just when it appeared that John would be swept overboard, Teach grabbed his friend by the arm, his fingers digging desperately into John’s flesh. Teach was quickly followed by more members of the crew. They heaved and pulled John and Teach to the center of the ship. With a mighty tug, the two collapsed onto the deck, struggling to regain their breath, wet hair hanging in their eyes.
“I guess this means you’re no longer mad at me,” John yelled at length, his voice carrying over the strength of the wind.
Teach gave a shout of laughter. “No, John. I’m not mad at you.”
Drawing a deep breath, John smiled. “Good. Because you’re a fool if you think she’d care for anyone the same way she cares for you.”
Getting to his knees, Teach grimaced as he held out a hand to John. Teach was a fool. But when it came to Anne, he couldn’t seem to control his reactions.
They both struggled to their feet.
“Come. I think you deserve a break.”
John shook his head. “No. I saw a light.”
If it had been anyone else, Teach would have questioned their eyesight. But John was an experienced sailor and wouldn’t make such claims if he wasn’t sure. “You think it was Easton,” Teach said.
“Aye, I do.”
A part of Teach wanted to find Easton immediately. The sooner they found the pirate, the sooner they could return to Nassau and free the others. But another part of him dreaded the upcoming confrontation. If the rumors about the pirate were true, Teach feared that not all of his men would survive the encounter.
CHAPTER 27
Anne
Anne stood at the windows, steadying herself against the pitching of the ship as she watched the endless procession of waves threatening to capsize the Triumph. It was just before dawn, and the sky outside was gray. The rain came down in horizontal sheets, and the wind screamed, drowning out any sound of the men’s shouts on deck. She was actually grateful to be in the shelter of the cabin, and hoped that the rest of the crew would be protected against the storm. It appeared to be abating. Somewhat. Of course, it hadn’t completely passed.
The hull creaked ominously and Anne moved once again toward the safety of the hammock. Wondering what time it was, she reached for the watch in her pocket, but a sudden shift in the floor sent her sprawling. Her arms flew out as she tried to catch herself, popping a few of the stitches in her back. The watch sailed across the room, and landed near the armoire in the corner.