Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) (25 page)

Conal stared at Landon a moment before he sent orders to the crew. “Lighten the load. Unlash and pitch over half of the water barrels.”

“Aye, sir!” Several crewmates jumped to action.

“Clear the lashes and load!” Conal shouted. His order was repeated and echoed in relay. Additional orders were relayed as the cannons were primed to fire. Conal flung a command at Keelan. “Take Johnny and Remus down to the galley and haul up the heaviest contents of Marcel’s larder.”

At Landon’s direction, sails were hauled high and guns loaded. Men carried up crates of smaller weapons, such as rifles, pistols and swords and lashed them to the masts. Conal and Landon continued to shout commands while Keelan hurried to locate the two crewmen.
 

She found Remus and Johnny and after relaying the captain’s instructions, the three headed for the galley.
 

Marcel met them at the galley door. “What eez—”

At the sight of the three of them, he shook his head and sliced the air with his hand. “Non! Take ze water first! I spend too much—”

“The water has been let go, Marcel,” Remus shouldered his way into the pantry. “We’ll start with the salted fish and rice.”

They hauled large barrels and sacks of other staples up to the amidships deck. Marcel, Keelan noted with amusement, grudgingly pointed to the items he was more willing to part with and greedily protected those he was not.

“You will not take my citrons!” The red-faced cook grabbed the burlap sack half-filled with bright, yellow lemons and clutched them to his chest. “Throw the goat instead!”

“You can’t throw the goat overboard!” The words were out of Keelan’s mouth before she had time to think.

Marcel and Remus stopped arguing and stared at her oddly. She almost froze in panic. A galley boy probably wouldn’t have said that. What would he have said?

“Take the molasses," she suggested, “at least it will not kick you.”

Remus grinned and nodded. “Aye. That makes better sense. ‘Tis easier to toss, too.” He took the crock and headed up the steps.
 

Marcel, however, continued to stare long and hard at Keelan. “Why would you care about a goat?”

Keelan swallowed. “It’s not the goat I care about,” she replied, fearing the frenzied beating of her heart was visible in the pulse of her neck. “The captain ordered half the water barrels overboard. We’ll need the goat for the milk.”
 

Marcel narrowed his eyes After a second he nodded, and shrugged. “Makes sense.”

With as much calm as she could muster, Keelan wiped her nose on her sleeve, grabbed a bag of onions, and swiftly followed Remus to the upper deck. She’d come dangerously close to giving herself away. After noting Marcel’s reaction, she wasn’t sure she was safe from discovery just yet.

Above deck, an active crew had readied the guns and unfurled additional sails.
 

The pirate ship maneuvered to intercept them, tacking back and forth like a serpent.

“There’s a second vessel!” The call came down from the watch. “Ahead on the larboard side!”

“A second?” Conal reached for the glass and put it up to his eye. “A cunning trap. I wonder if she’s a prize crew or is part of Gampo’s fleet.”

“Prize crew?” Keelan had never heard the term.

“The former crew what’s aboard a taken vessel,” Remus answered. “It’s what
we
don’t want ter become.”

“Johnny, eyes on the larboard sloop!” Conal barked. “Call out if she changes course.”

“Aye, Captain!”

The second boat was ahead of them and in-between the
Seeker
and the pirates. If they slowed and turned toward them and the
Dragon
swooped in behind, Conal’s ship would be raked across the stern and aft, as well. The small portable guns the sailors set up fore and aft couldn’t possibly defend them against two other vessels raking them with their broadside guns firing.
 

Conal focused on the pirates and their darkened sails, the ominous look on his face making Keelan catch her breath. How dire was this situation?

Landon’s earlier observation had proven worthy. The
Seeker
sailed with the current and the winds. The pirate ship was approaching from the east and starboard side. By the time it was able to position itself along the same path, the
Seeker
had begun to gain speed.

A puff of smoke from the pirates caught Keelan’s attention. Immediately, a sailor gave a warning shout from the crosstrees before the report echoed over the water.
 

Conal whirled. “Helmsman! Hard to leeward!”
 

“Aye, sir!” The crewman spun the wheel to the left.
 

Landon barked another sharp order and a small sail was shifted. The ship changed its course, turning away from the dark sails.

To Keelan’s relief, the cannonball landed well short, with a rather unimpressive splash. Elated, she whooped her cheer along with the crew.
 

Conal made an observation. “We’re in range of their guns. We might not be able to lighten the load fast enough to outrun both of them,” he said. He locked gazes with Landon, his gaze steady and predatory. “You know my take.”

“The guns are ready.” Landon held Conal’s gaze a moment longer. “We have women aboard. We have to outrun the bastards best we can, and pray we reach Harbour Town first.”
 

Conal nodded. “I realize that.”

Landon issued instructions of his own. Sails were trimmed and the
Seeker
made another sweeping turn westward. The crew began wetting the canvas so it would hold more wind. Keelan carried buckets of seawater from the rail to Johnny, who handed them to another shipmate. Her shoulders burned under the strain. Although she tried to be careful, water sloshed from her buckets, making the walk back and forth a slippery one until someone scattered sand over the boards.

“The little sloop has lowered her mainsail!” a sailor shouted.

Keelan’s heart lurched against her chest in mild panic. The
Seeker
bounded over the waves and would soon pass the smaller boat. Gampo’s vessel still approached from farther west, and if it didn’t alter its course it would ram the smaller sloop broadside.
 

“What the devil is Gampo doing?” Landon leaned forward and focused on the other two boats. “Is he using the sloop as a shield?”

Conal scowled. “We won’t attack the other boat, and he knows it. He’ll come around then bolt out of her cover, ready to fire his port side guns.”

Damage and destruction to the
Seeker
seemed inevitable. Keelan reached down and checked for the dagger strapped to her boot, hoping its presence would bolster her bravado.

It didn’t.

“Keelan.”

She jumped, startled at the sudden voice in her ear. She spun around and expelled a breath. “Landon, you almost frightened me out of my skin.”

For a moment, concern left his face as he gave her a lopsided grin. “My apologies,” he murmured softly. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I frightened you out of your skin.” He paused while his gaze traveled from her eyes to her throat. A strange tightening in her belly moved with his perusal as it continued downward. “Not long ago," he continued, barely audible, “while attempting to bathe, I found the feel of your skin most appealing.”

“Captain,” she barely breathed the words. “You have no scruples.”

“Nay.” He smiled devilishly. “I haven’t a single one.”

She wanted to walk into his arms and let his strength calm her fear. However, that would be counter productive to her current objective, which was to avoid him. He stepped closer and she caught herself breathing him in.
 

Stop it.
 

This was not being strong. This was being weak. This was definitely not keeping a safe distance.
Was
there a safe distance? Landon reached his arms around her and she almost jumped back, fearing he was about to embrace her in front of the crew. A stiff leather belt pressed against her hips as he buckled a pair of pistols to her waist.
 

His voice remained low, barely a whisper, while he focused on his task. “Keelan, we will not surrender this ship. If we have to engage, you are to lock yourself in my cabin. They’ll have to make it past the crew and me to get to you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his crystal gaze intense. “These pistols are only good at a short distance. Best at close range. Don’t fire unless you have
no
other
choice
.”

He swallowed, his expression a swirl of emotion.
 

Concern. Fear. Despair.
 

Yet also…Courage. Ferocity. Determination. He would battle to the death for his crew.
 

For her.
 

She suddenly understood.
 

If they were defeated, she would have a choice to make. She could let the pirates assign her fate, or she could determine her own. She stroked the cool, dark gray metal. Would she have the courage to use both of them? She couldn’t find the words to speak, so she just nodded.

“Keelan.”
 

His voice barely reached her ears over the wind and the sounds of the ship flying over the water. She lifted her face and met his gaze.
 

The pirates could only board the
Seeker
if they disabled her. They could only get to Keelan if Landon…The thought of him lying cold and motionless on the deck of the
Seeker
paralyzed her breath. A swirling, gray cloud permeated her mind. Images of Landon cut through the fog, giving her a brief glimpse of a memory before it faded: Landon discovering her hiding spot in the garden…on his horse with her riding bonnet perched on his head and a leering grin on his face…fighting with ferocity sword to sword with Gampo in the warehouse…his eyes darkening to a deep blue just before kissing her….

The fog dissipated when he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Keelan, I love you.”

Their eyes locked, and in that moment the wavering uncertainty skittering through the air around them calmed. Sounds became muffled; motion seemed to slow. In this single slice of time, she had an acute sense they were connected by a power stronger than fear, more resilient than the possibility of impending death. From the cadence of their breath to the rhythm of their heartbeats, they were bonded.

She raised her chin and took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

Whatever Fate had in store for them…let it come.
 

They would fight together.

 
Landon stood on the uppermost deck as the
Dragon
chewed away the sea separating them. The hull was painted a blood red. Several sails were the same color; others were various shades of grey, blue, green, or white with numerous patches, making them appear more like a ragged quilt.
 

“It’s him.” Conal ground out the words as if they were pieces of gravel.
 

“Yes,” Landon answered warily, his voice soft and even, as if he raised it but a little, the air around Conal would catch fire.

The sharply-angled boat rushed to engage the
Seeker.
Landon stood at his friend’s shoulder. “We’re not murderers, Conal.”

“I know that.” Conal’s jaw clenched hard. “However, I believe Lady Justice has earned her due.” He stood still as a rock, except for the sea breeze lifting his hair from his broad shoulders. It was the first time Keelan had seen him without it neatly pulled back.
 

“True enough.” Landon nodded. “But can you be sure the crew is willing? Can you be certain no innocents will be lost to satisfy the vengeance Gampo has earned? It might not belong to him.” He pointed to the sloop. “Look, even now they seem to be trying to haul up her mainsail again, although I’m still at a loss why they dropped it in the first place. It wasn’t something a seasoned crew would do.”

Conal’s gaze was fixed on the dark, two-masted vessel, which sliced through the waves toward them, but his shoulders dropped a little. “You’re right,” he finally answered.
 

Keelan noted the hard line of his jaw and the tightness around her half-brother’s eyes. He loved his family; that realization made her happy and proud.

Landon nudged Conal’s ribs. “We’ve outrun him before, we’ll do it again.”

Conal inhaled deeply through his nose and blinked. “Aye.”

A distant boom made Keelan jump. She watched in horror as the small sloop’s foremast shook, then broke in half. The top section folded down over itself and the sail fluttered crazily beside it.

“Perhaps it’s not Gampo’s prize ship after all,” Landon mused.

“Well, she’s about to become one, unless we can detain, or at the very least, distract the
Dragon
,” Conal said.

“Ho, Captain!” came a shout from the crosstrees. “The sloop’s foremast has been crippled, but she’s still hauling up her mainsail. The
Dragon
is almost clear of her.”

Conal snapped to action. “Clear the braces! Man the port side guns! As soon as she passes the sloop, fire.”
 

“The second and third guns are filled with grape shot, one and four are armed with bar shot,” Landon said, his voice confident and firm.

Conal nodded. “Send them a volley of grapeshot. Pepper the
Dragon’s
mainsail and slow her down. Avoid sweeping the decks, if you can. Disable her sails. Aim high.”
 

Landon strode across the poop deck. He’d strapped a saber to his hip and a gun belt around his waist. Long dark curls whipped behind his broad shoulders and her breath left her lungs.
 

He’s magnificent.
 

And he loves her.
Her
.

Landon shouted to another man standing by the main deck hatch. “Two and three guns, at the ready! Aim high lads, aim high! We want to shred the canvas best we can.” The order was relayed below to the men manning the ship’s guns. Keelan nervously tapped the handle of a pistol as she tried to follow the activity on the main deck below.